Thank you all very much for the wait an all the great comments!
I definitely had fun writing this chapter.
Enjoy
Chapter 46 - The Locket
The hardest goodbye on the morning of September first was to Sirius. Their hug was slightly stiff and awkward on both ends, laden with unspoken truths and mutual pain, yet it lingered long as neither wished to truly let go. Harry's godfather had fought hard for hours to convince everyone that it wouldn't hurt to come with as Snuffles. Mrs Weasley hadn't budged, and even Kingsley had spoken out against the idea, saying that Dumbledore had expressed concerns about Sirius leaving this place of safety. They thus had to part in the gloomy entrance hall of Grimmauld place, echoes of Walburga Black's screams and insults in everyone's ears even after the curtains were firmly shut again. The last glimpse Harry saw of Sirius before leaving, as the front door closed behind him, was how the man's wavering smile fell and he was swallowed up in the darkness of the house. A house that was barely a better prison than Azkaban had been if Sirius was to be believed. Harry's hatred for Albus Dumbledore burned stronger than it had in months, and he hardly spoke a word on the way to the Hogwarts express, too much rage and worry on his mind.
Somewhere in the distance, he registered himself saying goodbye to the Weasleys and Tonks, who had escorted them. Or rather, escorted Harry. There had been supposed to be more 'guards', including Lupin and a man named Sturgis Podmore, but word had reached the Order last night that there had been raids in central Europe, and Dumbledore had been adamant to send people out immediately to gather information. Harry was glad for it, an entourage of bodyguards was rather unwelcome and unnecessary, especially since the Order had no more than vague hints of Voldemort's return and a couple of Death Eaters 'running loose' as they called it. The teen shivered lightly as he thought of the news, flashes of what he had seen last night still on his mind. He hadn't been dreaming exactly, he thought. It was more as if he'd been in a trance, unable to move or free himself from it. Voldemort hadn't noticed this time either, Harry had just found himself back in his bedroom at one point again. It was all very strange. Was the link destabilising again? Could the Horcrux be at fault? It hadn't reacted to anything since, as if the piece of soul inside was inactive.
He was practically shoved in the train at the last moment by Mrs Weasley after a warm hug, and he joined the Weasley children at one of the windows to wave goodbye. All but Ron left soon after, and the two of them went to search for Hermione. They had already shoved open the compartments of half the train and disturbed a great many people, before Ron came to the realisation that Hermione was most likely in the Prefect compartment. Harry had never heard of there being separate compartments for Prefects, but his friend explained that Percy had pranced around about getting special treatment for ages after getting his badge.
''She'll show up in time,'' Ron said. ''Let's try to find seats, I hope anything is free still.''
There was, in fact, nothing completely free anymore after all the time they spent searching Hermione. The only compartment in which someone tried to invite them in was Cedric's, but none of his friends looked happy at the prospect of two extra people joining as it was already cramped, so they declined. After a rather desperate search which had Harry's arms hurting from dragging his trunk and Hedwig's cage around for so long, they finally found a compartment in the far back which only had one person in it. It was the same compartment that Ron and Harry had shared on their very first journey to Hogwarts and brought back rather nostalgic feelings. In front of the door stood a very nervous Neville, who held a cactus-like plant.
''Oh, hey, great to see some familiar faces,'' the round-faced boy sighed in relief. ''Everything is full, huh?''
Harry peered through the glass and pointed with his thumb to the compartment they stood at. ''Looks like there are at least five seats here still. We could just ask if she doesn't mind.'' Inside sat a younger girl he recognised as one of Ginny's friends, Luna Lovegood. ''Didn't you go to the Yule Ball with her?'' he asked Neville, raising an eyebrow. His friend became red and shuffled his feet.
''We-ell, yes… She is… I don't know. It was nice but… I got bullied even a lot more afterwards for bringing her, she's a target for a lot of Slytherins, and so am I. Don't want to get her in more trouble either.''
Anger instantly welled up in Harry's chest as he was reminded of the many bullies at Hogwarts. ''The behaviour of other people is no reason why you can't make friends with people,'' he growled. ''You're just giving them what they want, Neville. Let's go in.'' As Harry opened the door and asked if they could join her, she only peered at them over the edge of an upside-down magazine for a moment and gave a vague wave and a hello, eyes lingering on Neville for a bit before shifting to Harry. Harry's impression of the girl was 'weird', which wasn't improved by a necklace with a butterbeer cork and earrings that seemed to be made of actual radishes. If he'd learned anything in the past year however, it was to not judge people only by their appearance, and if he could even deem Voldemort acceptable company, he certainly wasn't going to instantly reject a slightly eccentric girl. Ron did not appear to have the same opinion, trying his hardest to look anywhere else and making smalltalk with Neville about summer after putting the trunks away. Neville went along with it, although he glanced at Luna a few times as if wanting to say something.
''Hey, thanks for not minding sharing this compartment,'' Harry said in the end, figuring that Neville was probably too nervous to strike up a conversation. A few seconds ticked by without reaction, so he cleared his throat and continued with: ''Really, the rest of the train is swamped, we might have had to sit outside otherwise.'' The magazine rustled as she flipped a page and turned the thing the right way up again so Harry could see the words 'The Quibbler' on the front. Pale blue, slightly bulging eyes looked at him again.
''You were talking to me? Oh, most people try to ignore me,'' she said in a rather floaty voice.
''Yeah… I have that problem often too,'' he replied, thinking of the Dursleys. ''You're Luna, right? Ginny introduced us last year before the Yule Ball.''
''I know,'' the girl replied, ''You're Harry Potter.'' Her unsettling gaze fell on his forehead as if her stare could pierce through his bangs. ''We didn't speak much then. Ginny enjoyed her date a lot, even if she was rather disappointed that it had to be cut short. You don't seem to be a person many would ignore.''
''It depends on the people,'' Harry shrugged, shooting an annoyed look at Ron, who bristled at the word 'date'.
She hummed. ''Watch out for those who want to be your friends with other motives. Most people are good, but most are also greedy. Wisdom lies in finding out who is good, yet not greedy.''
''Err, thank you, I'll heed that advice,'' Harry replied. The girl went back to reading.
During Harry's brief conversation with Luna, Neville had enthusiastically shown Ron the strange, slimy grey cactus he'd carried before. Harry had never been really interested in Herbology and had developed a healthy dose of wariness for magical plants since encountering Devil's Snare. He couldn't really understand Neville's fervour as the thing, which was covered in odd boils, reminded Harry most of a half-dead intestine. Ron did not look very happy either as it was shoved into his face. Without much of a warning, Neville suddenly poked the plant to demonstrate its defensive system, streams of a rancid, pus-like substance instantly spurting everywhere, covering the front of the girl's magazine and Harry's face.
As Neville panicked and started apologising profusely, Harry spit the stuff out and drew his wand, cleaning up the mess with a Scouring charm. It had been one of the useful charms he'd taught himself to be better at during summer to make cleaning up after dinner much easier. Flitwick had taught them in class midway through last year, but he'd been so caught up in everything back then that he hadn't properly gotten it down then. Neville and Ron both stared at him as if he'd performed a miracle, probably also not having successfully cast it before. Harry could vaguely recall Hermione trying to help Neville with practising it. ''Nice one,'' Ron said, looking impressed. ''I can barely remove a stain in my robes with that.''
''That was unpleasant,'' the girl said, somehow managing to not sound accusing at all, waving her magazine up and down which was, while clean now, still slightly wet.
''I can try to dry it too,'' Harry offered. ''Haven't practised that much yet though, so no promises.'' She wordlessly handed him the Quibbler. While trying to dry it with medium to bad success, his eye fell on a few of the headlines, and he started reading with growing astonishment. Fudge as Kobold-killer, Sirius as innocent singing sensation, the Tutshill Tornadoes as torturing manipulators and cheats… ''This has some… interesting articles,'' Harry said with slight concern. He hoped that she was reading this as entertainment, it was a dangerous thing to consume media with so many conspiracy theories at once. Merlin, the power of the media was the exact reason why Voldemort had seized control over the newspapers. Now Harry thought about it, that didn't make him feel much better about his own sources of information.
''They are, aren't they?'' the girl said, sounding pleased. ''My father is the editor,'' she said, pointing to the cover, where in various letters of which the fonts did not fit together at all stood: 'The Wizarding World's alternative voice by X. Lovegood'. ''I liked last week's edition better, it was a special about all the helpful neighbourhood creatures found in magical gardens like Aquagnomes and Gulping Plimpies.''
''You like magical creatures then? Do you take the Care of Magical Creatures course?'' Harry asked. He'd never heard of either one of the creatures she mentioned, but figured that it must be his Muggle upbringing. The most exciting thing he'd ever found in Aunt Petunia's garden had been an exceptionally large leopard slug which he had brought to the park before his aunt could order him to put salt on it. He missed the strange glances that Ron and Neville threw each other.
''Yes, although I don't know if I like it very much, Professor Hagrid is not a good teacher,'' Luna said, causing a round of protest from Harry and Ron. Luna only gave them a blank look until they fell silent and continued: ''The creatures he shows us are often very misunderstood even by him. I am very glad that he has proven that Fiery Crustapions exist though, even if he called them Blast-ended Skrewts. That made a lot less people laugh at me, my dad wrote another article on them last year as soon as I found out.'' Harry frowned slightly now, knowing that Hagrid had illegally bred the Skrewts himself from Manticores and Fire Crabs. He was about to open his mouth when he caught Ron's raised eyebrows and shaking head. Deciding that he wasn't enough of an expert on magical creatures to continue this conversation, Harry returned the magazine.
''So, should be all dry now. Hey, we're still expecting a friend to join us soon, is that okay?'' It had been 'her' compartment first after all, so it would be terribly impolite not to ask. Lovegood cocked her head, gaze drifting off to the window.
''Sure. My father always said that 'the more the merrier' is a Muggle saying that might one day prove to hold truth to it. I can try today.''
Not quite knowing what to do with that comment, Harry didn't reply, talking with the others instead. Almost an hour passed until their compartment door was shoved open. In front stood Hermione, but rather than her usual excited self, she had a scowl on her face that didn't promise much good. Harry saw why a moment later, when she stepped in and was followed by Draco Malfoy. ''I said go away, Malfoy! Or do I need to break your nose again?''
Neville's eyes grew wide and he mouthed to Ron 'She broke his nose?'
''My my Granger, threatening violence on your fellow prefect,'' the boy drawled. ''I might have to report that to your Head of House to see if you are unfit for the position.''
''I'm sure Professor McGonagall will be of the same opinion,'' she hissed back, throwing another glare at the Slytherin. Malfoy lingered in the doorway as Hermione sat down and tried to ignore him, his eyes wandering across the compartment. ''So Loony Lovegood joins your strange band of associates, Potter?'' he said with a disgusted sneer. ''Your choice of affiliating yourself with Mudbloods, freaks and traitors is getting more and more questionable.''
Harry tried hard not to take the bait and rose slowly from his seat, drawing his wand from his back pocket. ''You seem to have a very short memory span,'' he calmly spoke. ''I did tell you that insults aren't a good way to start a conversation. If you can't treat my friends with respect, then I have nothing to say to you.'' Pleased, he saw the simmering hatred in Draco's eyes die down and make way for a calculating glint. Malfoy wanted something he could give, the boy wouldn't be here otherwise, or have pulled that stunt at Gringotts.
''Fine. I… apologise, Granger,'' he spoke, looking as if he wanted to wash out his mouth afterwards. Hermione raised an eyebrow, but didn't look as surprised as Neville or Ron. Well, she had attended that one party with Draco and probably knew a bit more about Harry's odd not-quite-a-friendship with Malfoy than the others. ''Potter, a word.''
With a roll of his eyes, Harry stepped out of the compartment and shut the door, carefully throwing up a silencing barrier. He sighed, wondering where the hell he should even start this conversation. He'd hoped that they would have somehow… gotten further. Malfoy had been forced to spill out his heart while under the Imperius, he'd aided Harry with the second Task, had been a part of one of the Champion parties. But no matter what, it looked like the boy always searched out the comfort zone of bullying others to not have to look at himself. ''You're not doing anyone a service by acting like this,'' he muttered. ''Not even yourself.''
''I don't need more of your life advice, Potter.''
''Fine, then don't listen to me. You have some explaining to do,'' he continued, irritation rising. It wasn't his responsibility how Malfoy felt or acted. ''What in the world are you trying to do, telling other students about my… truce?''
''Truce?'' Malfoy chuckled. ''My father told me that it is a bit more than that. You stayed at the Dark Lord's home over summer. I heard he has been… teaching you.''
Ah, that explained a lot. Malfoy most likely saw Harry's closeness to Voldemort as an opportunity to climb the ranks of the Dark Lord fast even when at Hogwarts, without his daddy being around. To gain respect from his peers and information about what was going on outside of Hogwarts. ''I don't see what that has to do with you,'' Harry spoke coolly. ''Each time I tried to rely on you, you broke your word. You don't really expect me to let you benefit of my connections, do you? I offered being friends with you, I fully wished to uphold that. You didn't exactly do much to reciprocate that, treating the people I have counted among my friends for years like garbage.''
''I stopped bullying Gryffindors!'' Malfoy protested.
''Oh wow, it should be absolutely commended that you don't do something awful! Plus, that hardly counts when you bully children from other houses instead. It has nothing to do with trying to be a better person.''
The Slytherin huffed. ''I don't need to be a good person, Potter. I need people to listen to me, and fear is a great tool for that. I stopped harassing your little friends because you disliked it, but you can't make me ruin my entire reputation by suddenly being nice to everyone. Besides, don't be hypocritical, the Dark Lord himself rules through fear, you don't appear to have much of a problem having him as a role-model.''
''Maybe because he is actually capable of listening and intelligent thought!'' Harry bit back, feeling a great urge to defend the man. Sure, Voldemort wasn't a good person either and liked to cause pain to others, but he'd left the days of being a school bully long behind him and did not try to get people to join him by brainwashing or torture. Other than Malfoy, he fought the morally skewed urges he had instead of taking the easy road of giving into them. ''You know nothing about the Dark Lord.'' As he said it, the locket, which had been apathic since the morning, flared up with heat so suddenly that Harry almost grabbed it in shock, stopping himself barely in time.
''But you do,'' Malfoy said, mustering Harry with a serious expression. ''You could have been great in Slytherin.''
The echo of the Sorting Hat's words made a shiver run over Harry's spine. ''I'm perfectly happy in Gryffindor. So, just to be clear, you want to somehow parade around as my friend now that you spread rumours about me having influence in higher circles. The only thing I have to say to that is 'No thanks'. I don't like being used, Malfoy.''
''I have something you want too,'' the blond said, lips curling in a way that was eerily similar to Snape. Shit, he hadn't given Snape any thought anymore, he was not looking forward to seeing the man again after their last conversation.
''What could you possibly have that I want?'' Harry scowled.
The smirk widened. ''A way to survive this school year. Give it a week, Potter… I'm sure you'll come around once meeting our new Defence teacher. In the meantime, I do suggest still taking the invitation to the Slytherin opening party. After all, it wouldn't do to miss the opportunity of so many contacts… contacts of students who wish to help the side you picked. It starts at ten, I'll be expecting you.'' Malfoy gave a vague wave and walked away with an air of smugness practically radiating off him. Somehow, that conversation had not gone the way he'd imagined it. At all.
He could of course tell Barty or Voldemort about this, but he really didn't feel like letting other people fight his fights, or coming across as too weak to handle Malfoy on his own. Mood worsening, he joined his friends again, merely shaking his head when they questioned him about Malfoy. They all fell into silence soon for the rest of the ride. Harry rested his head against the window, looking at the landscape rolling past and the raindrops sliding down the glass with ever-increasing speed. Hermione was propped up against the other window, engrossed in a book, while Luna pulled more Quibblers from her bag to read one after the other. The only brief conversation came from when they bought a bit of candy from the trolley and from the sparse words exchanged between Neville and Ron.
Harry was absolutely fine with that, lost in thoughts. Another year at Hogwarts… his feelings about it were rather split. The castle always held a certain magic and warmth to it, but he wasn't looking forward to homework, exams, or dealing with many of the people who occupied the castle. Dumbledore might want to continue those strange lessons, it would be very weird to talk to Snape again, and he couldn't tell his friends much of what he was going through. He hoped that nothing strange would happen this year again to put him in the spotlight, but the ominous words of Malfoy about the new Defence teacher put him on edge. Harry just wished to have a normal schoolyear for once, was that too much to ask? Even though it was a magical school, plenty of his peers managed not to get entangled in dangerous situations. Him ending up in lethal danger had been Voldemort's fault three out of four times though, and once indirectly through Pettigrew, so that would drastically lower the chances of odd happenings now the man was not involving himself with Hogwarts business for a while. He desperately wished for it to be so.
The locket on his chest grew cold and heavy, a reminder of that even before the year had started, Harry might have screwed up.
Darkness fell quickly, a darkness so consuming that Harry doubted he'd even be able to catch a first glimpse of Hogwarts while in the train. They changed quickly as the Hogwarts Express slowed down, Hermione returning to the Prefect compartment to gather her trunk. Luna was allowed to carry Pigwidgeon's cage, the girl seemed very taken with the tiny owl and Ron was perfectly fine with having to carry less himself. There was something missing when they walked onto the platform though: The one calling out to the first years was not Hagrid this time, but professor Grubby-Plank. Filing that information away for later, they went to the carriages, where he was met with the strange black creatures that Voldemort had called 'Thestrals'. He stared at them for a moment, wondering if they could see him with those strange, milky eyes.
''They're beautiful, no?'' a floaty voice spoke beside him and Harry jumped, not having noticed Luna approach. She had her arms folded around Pigwidgeon's cage and swayed a bit from side to side.
''You can see them too? Who…''
''My mother. Potion accident. You?''
''My parents as well,'' he murmured, only failing to mention that it had been their second death which had made him able to see the horse-like beings. She nodded sagely and clambered into the carriage with the rest, followed by Harry. As sad as it was that Luna had lost someone too, he felt a little bit better knowing that he wasn't the only one here to see them.
He was surprised to find that Ginny had joined them, he hadn't seen her in the train or on the platform. He knew precious little about Ginny or her friends, even though they'd just spent a month in the same house. She didn't much like talking about herself, Harry had noticed, preferring to join the Twins in plotting their next prank or asking Bill about his travels and the magic he'd encountered. The short conversation in which she'd warned him against the influence of dark magic had been one of the very few moments in which she'd opened up even slightly. Now too, she was giving him concerned looks that he tried his best to ignore. He only needed to survive dinner and maybe that stupid Slytherin party, before everything would be alright. He'd already checked his trunk for the two-way mirror and put it on top to grab it instantly when having a moment alone in the dorms.
Ron and Ginny discussed Hagrid's absence further during the ride, while Harry stared out of the window again, this time hoping to catch a glimpse of light from Hagrid's hut once they entered the Hogwarts grounds. There was nothing to see, and nothing to feel but a cloud of despair descending on him that was far too overwhelming for the situation. Harry barely knew how he ended up sitting in the Great Hall, for he suddenly found himself there, among his chattering friends. Ginny was gone, sitting with her classmates on a different part of the table. Luna too had left them and Harry could not remember saying goodbye. Something gnawed at his chest, as if invisible insects ate away his heart. He grabbed the table as the locket started its low thudding again, which rang in his ears so hard that his fingers started trembling. Something was wrong. Something was terrible, terribly wrong.
''-think she remembers?'' he heard, and he jerked his head to the side to stare at Ron.
''What?'' he asked, disoriented. Sound and light was suddenly too harsh on his eyes and ears as the thudding subsided and allowed other noise to enter his head.
''You think she remembers that you punched her?'' his friend asked with wide eyes, making a sideway nod to the head table. Harry cast a glance at it and froze as his eyes connected with those of a very familiar woman. His mouth dried out as he realised that the Undersecretary of the Minister of Magic, the toad-like woman in pink whom he had slammed a fist in the face of after she insulted Fleur, was sitting at the teacher's table. From her glare, which he could see very clearly with his new glasses, she remembered all too well.
Malfoy had warned him about the new Defence teacher. Oh no.
As if in a trance, he listened to the song of the Sorting Hat, which was darker and longer than it had ever been, speaking of enemies and holding together against discord, a clear warning that was cause for many whispers amongst the student body. After the Sorting, Harry started eating to wash away the bad taste it had left in his mouth and listened to Nearly Headless Nick's explanation about previous warnings of the Sorting Hat, which was instantly followed by the first squabble of the year between Ron and Hermione about Ron's tactlessness that drove Nick off. What a great start, Harry thought to himself.
A second unpleasant surprise came when after the food, the Undersecretary -Professor Umbridge now, according to Dumbledore- interrupted the Headmaster's speech with a small cough. As bad as he felt, Harry tried to gather his thoughts and listened to it with as much rapt attention as Dumbledore appeared to have. It was clear that this woman was not going to make his life any easier, so it would be good to keep an eye on her from the start. Harry had been fooled and played too often by figures of authority to let this slide. Between the games Dumbledore and Voldemort were playing, he definitely did not want to be surprised when the Ministry suddenly became a third faction of importance.
After the experience of the Award ceremony, he was somehow not surprised when she started speaking to them as if they were all five-year-olds, blabbering on about becoming good friends, which caused many giggles and whispered comments. Harry had to grudgingly commend Umbrige: when in the next sentences, her tone changed and she turned to a far more serious topic that indicated her desire for change in Hogwarts, hardly anyone listened attentively anymore, too occupied with her behaviour from before. Because of it, he was certain that the true meaning of her words flew over the heads of many. From 'traditions that don't need tinkering' to 'pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited', it was clear that Umbridge's goal was to control exactly what would be allowed or not from this moment on, and that she would do everything to ensure her will would be pushed through. With her specific mention of Headmasters changing the school over time, he had a suspicion what her goal was. He only wasn't sure what to think of it.
Harry was relieved to find that he hadn't been the only one who had paid attention, when Hermione started muttering about the speech. Perhaps tomorrow he could talk about it in greater detail with her. ''That was very enlightening,'' she said. While Ron declared her mad, Harry nodded.
''I thought so too. Let's see how her classes are, that we only have a theory book for Defence doesn't sit well with me.''
''Agreed,'' she replied. ''Hopefully it will all stay at words only. In either case, the staff clearly doesn't want her here, did you see the looks she got?'' Harry hadn't seen it, needing all energy to concentrate on Umbridge's words and Dumbledore's reaction to it. ''Anyhow, we'll talk later. I need to guide the first years to the dorms now. Meet you there?'' She got up from the table and called for the new Gryffindor students, joined by Dean, who had indeed gotten the second Prefect badge, much to Harry and Ron's relief.
With a vague excuse about not feeling well -which was most definitely true,- Harry quickly asked Hermione for the password - Mimbulus Mimbletonia – before she could disappear, and hurried out of the Hall rather quickly, taking every shortcut known to him to reach Gryffindor tower faster. He was the very first to arrive and practically ran up the stairs to the sleeping dorms. A pressing headache was forming between his eyes again, and he did grab the locket now, uncaring that it was so cold that it almost froze his hand. He needed a solution, desperately. Harry fell down on his knees in front of the trunk that had been placed at the end of his bed, throwing open the lid and grabbing the mirror as if it was a cup of water for a man starving of thirst. The solution was here…
He barely had the sense of mind to realise that talking to a Death Eater through a two-way mirror was not going to look favourable to anyone coming in, and he would also make himself suspicious if he'd shut his bed hangings so early. As no other students had arrived yet, he exited Gryffindor tower again, clutching the mirror to his chest. He needed a place to be alone, somewhere where no-one would find him. Sirius had told him about something like that, had shown him a room on this very floor. Harry found his way to the tapestry of dancing trolls with little difficulty and paced up and down in front of the blank wall.
I need a place to have a private conversation, a place to be alone! He thought furiously. At the third passing, a door materialised and he sighed in relief. Help was so close.
Harry rushed through the door, hardly taking note of the room around him, all that mattered was that others wouldn't find him here now. ''Barty!'' he rasped, staring in the mirror, holding it up to his eyes, heart thudding wildly as seconds ticked by. ''Barty!'' he cried out, slightly more desperate after not getting an answer. He held his breath as finally, the surface of the mirror rippled slightly, his own reflection making way for the familiar face of his favourite Death Eater.
''Evan! Great to hear from you again, I've been worried sick about you, our Lord had such an irregular sleeping schedule that he said he hasn't been able to connect to your dreams. Survived the Order, did you?''
''Yeah, yeah I did. Everything fine in that regard. Barty, listen, I need advice, I found-''
A rushing sounded in his head, his lips became unable to form words. Harry blinked once, then twice, trying to make sense of where he was. When he looked down on the mirror again, it was empty. ''What? No…'' he whispered in disbelief, shaking it. His hands started sweating and he withdrew his wand, Ginny's words of warning ringing in his head. ''Tempus.''
He should have expected it somehow. Still, he stared at the numbers '21:47' with a growing numbness. Dinner had ended at eight thirty. He couldn't have arrived in this room later than nine. Nearly an hour had passed. The chain of the locket constricted around his throat as he furiously tried taking it off, crying out as he struggled with it. ''No, NO, Bastard!'' he yelled at it, torn between terror and fury. It was too late, the Horcrux had grown far more powerful than it had shown before. How could this have happened so fast? Ginny had written in the diary for months before Riddle had been able to cause her blackouts! It hadn't been more than a couple of weeks since he'd started wearing the Horcrux, and he hadn't even interacted with it! Did they all work differently? Was his connection to it stronger?
He calmed abruptly, wrapping trembling fingers around the damned thing. Voldemort had been able to listen to reason. Harry was a Horcrux himself and thus far too important to drain the soul of. Riddle, no matter what age or in what form, would never go down the road of self-destruction. If Harry was caught up this much already, he might as well face the Horcrux on his own terms. He'd put off talking to it in the hopes of Barty or Voldemort being able to take it off his hands before anything like this would happen. That was no longer an option if the Horcrux cut off his contact with anyone who could help. He raised the trinket up, glaring at the shining emeralds, feeling magic radiating off the metal. Almost instinctively, he knew what to do.
~Open~
A seam appeared across its surface and the metal clicked, two little golden doors swinging open. Harry wasn't exactly sure what to expect. A picture of Riddle maybe… or at least a sort of core. Instead, he was met by two dark green eyes that stared at him from within the polished metal for a second before disappearing. He sat there like an idiot, waiting for Riddle to come back. ''Can you… can you hear me?'' he started with uncertainty. It would be just his luck if this thing couldn't actually communicate in words. It slipped from his fingers as tendrils of thick smoke started coming out of the locket and he had half a mind to shut it when it formed a figure.
Riddle was clearly older than the one from the diary had been, but not by much. Harry guessed him to be in his early or mid-twenties. He didn't have red eyes yet despite splitting his soul three times already. Although, if Harry remembered correctly from Dumbledore's memory, they could certainly flash red already by this time. All in all, he looked pretty human still... and just straight-up pretty too, a crazy thought that Harry blamed on his sleep-deprivation before pushing it far away.
''Well hello,'' the apparition spoke, taking a form that was far too solid to Harry's liking. Riddle was wearing rather plain robes and a travel cloak, looking at Harry with a calculated glint in his eyes that Harry didn't like one bit. The teen felt as if he was being sized up by a predator. The young Dark Lord had his hands clasped behind his back, a stance that Voldemort took rather often even now.
''Evening,'' Harry said, trying his best not to glare at the one who had caused him such problems over the past weeks. Even if the thing was trying to suck out his soul, he knew how much Voldemort disliked impoliteness, and it wouldn't do to start this with hostility no matter how much he wanted to pummel Riddle's face in with rage. He knew how far that had gotten him with Voldemort…
Though he still wasn't going to call Riddle 'Lord' if he didn't show he deserved it. Harry had no disillusions about that this was surely a very different man than the Voldemort he had come to know. For one, it was only a sliver of soul with a mind of its own. The last Horcrux had tried to gain a body with no regards to the main soul. This one cutting him off from contacting Voldemort - first through not letting him dream and now with the mirror – didn't bode well. Riddle mustered him quietly in the same way that Voldemort had when trying to test how patient he was. Harry tried to hold out under the unnerving stare as long as possible before twitching.
''You look rather unsurprised at my appearance,'' the Locket-Horcrux finally spoke.
Harry didn't answer instantly, thoughts racing through his head about how much he wanted to reveal. Information was precious, both dangerous to give and good as bargaining material for a piece of soul that had been shut off from the outside world for who knew how many years. ''How much do you know about me?'' Harry asked, crossing his arms and frowning. He had no idea how much the piece of soul within the locket had been able to hear of the outside world in the past weeks. The vessel had seemed to react to some of Harry's words before, but for all he knew that could have been purely magical.
Riddle raised his eyebrows and wetted his lips before speaking: ''You found me at the Black's home, where you stayed for summer. You defended the Dark Lord and are clearly a Parselmouth. Yet you are a Gryffindor and people around you spoke negatively of the Dark Lord as well… You try to hide who you really are.''
''Good, then I know more about you than you know about me,'' Harry said with a small, victorious smirk. Holding the cards when talking to a person more dangerous than oneself was great. ''I know you're Dark Lord Voldemort's Horcrux. I also know what you can do and how I could potentially destroy you. So if you keep sucking out my life energy, I swear I'll stab a Basilisk fang through you or get one of my friends to do it.'' Riddle didn't need to know how much he was bluffing with that statement.
Unexpectedly, Riddle merely laughed softly, throwing Harry off, and stepped closer. With a movement so quick that he didn't see it coming at all, the man raised a hand, causing more tendrils of smoke to shoot out which wrapped themselves around Harry's throat. Okay, so maybe he didn't really know what this one could do. The Diary definitely had not been able to choke him with air. It was also a very red flag that he found himself in a far-too familiar situation, his air supply being blocked off as the man came closer and loomed over him, eyes shooting fire. Why did Voldemort have such a throat fixation?
''If you know who I am, then you also know that my power has no limits. Do not think that you can control me, boy. You will give me whatever I want, whenever I want it, or I will crush your skull and move to the next best person.''
Harry thought fast. The first tactic had failed, he had to throw something better on the table ''I… I'm a Horcrux too,'' Harry managed to rasp out. If he didn't want to become an empty husk, he needed to have at least the importance of his continued survival be known. The tendrils retreated, though Riddle did not.
''That explains… much'' the apparition hissed softly. ''A human Horcrux… And where, pray tell, is my soul?''
Harry shrugged. ''It didn't happen on purpose. Had some side effects, but that I am able to speak Parseltongue should at least be an indication that I'm telling the truth, unless you know of some more illegitimate children in your family?'' He pressed his lips together when Riddle stilled completely and gave him a murderous look, to not let any further snappy comments slip. The man didn't say anything in reply, which was possibly even worse than if he'd started throwing curses. Riddle retreated, walking around the room, pale fingers brushing over the surface of a table that stood in the centre of the room. It looked like he was in deep thought.
''We are at Hogwarts, no? Where?'' the man demanded to know, wandering around. It was… disconcerting to see how far he could stray from the locket already.
The Gryffindor looked around, really taking in the room for the first time. It wasn't very big, a rather simple room with a single chair and a small table. Well, he'd asked for privacy, there hadn't been much he'd expected from a wish like that. The teen did feel rather hesitant about telling Riddle the truth: that there was a room at Hogwarts that could change into nearly everything one wished for. Giving a Horcrux such a place of retreat was most definitely a bad idea. ''I just stumbled in here,'' Harry said, which wasn't really a lie. He followed the other's movements with wary eyes, feeling incredibly uncomfortable as he didn't have the slightest clue as to how he should react to Riddle. The man clearly didn't deem his comment worth a reply, instead crooking a finger at Harry.
''Come here.''
''Thanks, I'm fine,'' he replied.
Riddle stilled again, with that dangerous glint in his eyes. ''Come here or I'll do unspeakable things to you, boy. A Horcrux you may be, limbs are not vital to staying alive.'' Harry felt like it was his first meeting with Voldemort all over again, which in a sense was true. He'd almost forgotten how much he'd had to walk on eggshells before gradually starting to get more liberties. Ones he only now really recognised, the Dark Lord hadn't cursed him in ages anymore for insolence, usually only making threats about it in an ill attempt at humour. This version looked more likely to follow up on the threats. Voldemort's protection spell specifically excluded harm done by himself, and Harry wasn't willing to test quite yet if being harmed by a Horcrux was possible. The choking of before was a bad indication that it might be.
Riddle sat himself down on the table surface, gesturing for Harry to take the chair, which gave the other man even more of a height advantage than he already had.
''We need not do this the rough way,'' Riddle spoke in a velvety voice that made Harry swallow a tad harder than usual. ''You clearly know my older self and are aware of more details than most. I need information. Answer my questions faithfully and you will come out of this unharmed. Fail and… well… I'll leave it up to your pretty head to come up with suitable punishment. I might even pluck it out of your brain and use it.''
He certainly wasn't joking. With a bout of courage, Harry replied: ''Can I ask one thing first that has been bugging me?'' Riddle raised an eyebrow, which Harry, who was very familiar with Voldemort's facial expressions and body language by now, instantly took as an indication to continue. ''You don't seem very hyped about meeting your older self, you blocked all of my attempts to reach him. Why?''
Riddle furrowed his brow ever so slightly. ''All of your attempts…?'' the man muttered, then looked as if he'd slipped up and smoothed his expression. Inwardly, Harry gained a spark of hope again. So the Dark Lord hadn't been as good at hiding his thoughts when younger, that could work to his advantage. Catching Riddle's slip-ups by asking questions that threw him off was the way to go then. Interesting, so Riddle hadn't known about him trying to reach Voldemort, or perhaps just not the dreams. It would make sense if he hadn't known Harry was a Horcrux. Perhaps the lack of sleep really had been a 'normal' side effect of the energy-drain.
''I have been locked up for decades with very few opportunities to connect to the outside world,'' the Horcrux spoke. ''No sight, smell, taste, touch… even hardly any sound. Tell me boy, how would you like for all of your senses to be taken away for years? When my other self created me, I had no idea what was coming. To ensure survival, I know that this is the state I shall have to remain in for eternity and am willing to sacrifice this part of me for the good of the whole, but I think that after all that, I deserve a bit of freedom… and fun.'' He showed a smile with too-sharp teeth and leaned over to Harry, a hand reaching out to lightly stroke Harry's hair. The teen stiffly remained seated and only glared at the young Dark Lord ''Being in Hogwarts will give me plenty of opportunity to have that fun I so crave,'' he whispered, dark eyes glittering. ''And you are going to help me with that.''
''Why would I do that?'' Harry bit back. There was absolutely no way that he was going to let Riddle run rampant in Hogwarts only to feel alive again. He was pretty sure that Riddle's idea of fun would not involve Quidditch or exploding snap. Exploding humans were more likely to be on the list.
''Because if you don't help me willingly, I will take over your thoughts, possess your body like I did before, and kill your precious friends with your own two hands,'' the man answered in an airy voice as if he was talking about the weather, a deceivingly sweet smile on his lips.
It felt as if Riddle had punched him in the gut while drenching him in ice water. Slamming his hands on the table, Harry stood up, the chair falling to the floor, Riddle's hand quickly retreating. ''Don't you dare touch a hair on the head of my friends!'' he yelled, uncaring about how much emotion he was showing. Hatred boiled in his veins and he wanted to smash a fist in that handsome, smug face. Riddle reached out and grabbed a fistful of Harry's hair, drawing him closer until their noses almost touched.
''Oh yes, this will be fun,'' the man said before pushing Harry away again and smoothly sliding off the table again. ''You have no power here. If you knew what I was, you shouldn't have been so stupid to carry me around on your naked chest. Now, I can control you however I want, so don't even dare to try anything. To my older self, we should have equal value, and as you only have a dormant piece of soul in you, I doubt he'd care if I used you to further our goals.''
Harry snorted. ''Except you were stuck in that locket and have no idea what went down in the meantime. Trust me, if it is between you or me, I'm rather confident.'' This clearly displeased Riddle greatly, for he glowered and demanded, more aggressively now:
''Tell me what you are to him!'' The words sounded magically amplified and Harry instantly felt compelled to answer, having to greatly resist the urge. He bit on his tongue, the sharp sting and taste of copper on his tongue clearing his senses.
''You'll have to ask more nicely if you want answers from me. Even if you can control my body, my thoughts are my own.''
A light trembling of Riddle's hands was all that betrayed his fury. ''Don't be so sure of that,'' the other said, a light hiss in his voice. ''I can make your thoughts hell if I want to. So, Harry,'' The teen got a slight shock as his name was uttered. He'd been positive that he hadn't introduced himself. ''We can do this two ways. Either you're with me or against me. Aid me willingly, and I'll make sure that no harm comes to those who are precious to you. Fail, and I will utterly destroy your life so much that you wished I would have killed you after all. If you expect help from my older self, don't bother. It is the first day at Hogwarts and I can keep you here until next summer if I so desire.''
''He'll know something is wrong,'' Harry protested.
''Perhaps, and? I very much doubt that he can enter Hogwarts, being a Dark Lord. I saw today that Dumbledore is still Headmaster. So, your answer?''
Harry very much felt like being stubborn and not answering at all. Taking into consideration that he was a human of flesh and blood, while Riddle was a spirit-like being that needed neither food nor sleep, it was very doubtful that he would win when trying to outlast the other in patience. Was there any right answer to this? Agreeing to aid willingly would be the same as bringing a powerful sacrifice by letting Riddle take control of his actions, which could be interpreted as heavy magic with unforeseen consequences. He had no idea how much power he'd give the young Dark Lord with that. If he resisted, it might well be that Riddle kept true to his word of attacking Harry's friends, which was absolutely unthinkable too.
''You leave me no choice,'' he said in the end, weighing all options. ''Thus, I am forced to agree to your demands.'' There, that should at least limit the other's influence a bit.
A wry smile curled on Riddle's face. ''What interesting wording. You have been taught well.''
''How will this work?'' Harry asked, narrowing his eyes. ''Your… fun?''
''All in due time. For now, I can relish in having access to a body again, even like this. Your emotions fuelled me quite well…'' That answer wasn't very satisfying, far too vague to Harry's tastes, though better than some things his frantic mind had imagined. He silently vowed that if Riddle was going to stall his own plans, the teen would try to do everything in his power to ensure the stalling would last as long as possible. The young Dark Lord continued: ''I also want information, it wouldn't do to stand in my own way. I know just what will give me that. You have been invited to a rather interesting party, haven't you? It has just started, you should hurry down to the dungeons. I'm curious to see how a Gryffindor will fare when surrounded by Slytherins.'' Harry didn't answer, looking away when the ghost-like form came closer again and tried looking him in the eyes. ''Such defiance,'' Riddle chuckled. ''I shall return to the locket now. We'll see each other soon. Very soon.''
''Will you let me sleep again at least?'' Harry asked, a hint of traitorous desperation worming its way into his voice.
''Maybe…'' Riddle spoke, eyeing him carefully ''You did agree to my arrangement, so I will not deprive you of all your energy anymore. You need to do well enough at school to keep off the radar.'' Harry found it funny how casually Riddle used such a Muggle expression, but decided not to point it out. ''I'll help you brew a dreamless sleep potion, you may sleep when you take that.'' Harry's heart sank. He'd sleep but… he could not reach Voldemort without dreaming. ''Do you find this… disagreeable?''
''No, no…'' Harry quickly lied, uncomfortable beneath Riddle's stare and afraid that the man would take the promise of sleep away again. ''I'll go to the party now. Do you think I'll need dress robes?''
''It is the start-of-year party, many students of the younger years won't have any, so no. Good luck, do keep me entertained.'' Riddle didn't wait for another answer, dissolving into smoke that was sucked up by the locket, which snapped shut again and slipped between the folds of Harry's robes.
This could have gone worse. Riddle could have had plans to slaughter the entire school or something. However, Harry didn't think it could have gone much worse.
And yet, while Harry quietly made his way down to the dungeons, passing through winding, familiar corridors and staring at all the portraits that surrounded him, an odd feeling settled in his chest that he tried to place. His stay at Riddle manor being cut short so suddenly had been unpleasant, and he wasn't able to reach Voldemort now either. Draco Malfoy was an unreliable git and Barty wasn't a teacher anymore. He had no one to talk to when it came to topics on dark magic. Except… now he had.
He realised that the odd feeling was content. Maybe Riddle would try to use him like the diary had used Ginny, but it wouldn't end in the same way. He knew Voldemort, and Riddle was ultimately but a younger part of the intriguing man he'd come to admire so. That Harry had felt out of his depth during the conversation with Riddle now didn't mean it had to stay that way. Riddle was Horcrux, Harry was a thinking and living Horcrux-vessel, surely they'd have things in common or could talk. He wasn't alone. He had to think of the memories he'd seen in Dumbledore's Pensieve, of Tom Riddle in the classroom. Brilliant, quiet, wanting to prove his worth to those who'd already decided what path he'd go. Just maybe, Harry could help him.
''You're late, people were already starting to question me!'' Malfoy finally hissed, slightly red in the face as Harry finally stepped through the wall that blocked off the Slytherin common room from the rest of the dungeons. He'd been stumped about the password for a few moments as everyone was clearly already inside after ten, but a low hissed 'Open' that originated from the Locket had made the wall reveal the passage behind it. Harry should have known from the Chamber that Slytherin had liked Parseltongue passwords.
''I never said I would definitely come,'' Harry answered, raising an eyebrow at Draco. ''It's not my fault that you went around telling people that.'' He let his eyes roam over the crowd. He'd only been here twice and both times, the room hadn't been incredibly full. Now, it was absolutely packed, the leather couches shoved to the side to form a dance floor and tables laden with all kinds of fancy food standing near the walls. The room itself was stunningly decorated; strategically-placed lights illuminated the windows to the lake to increase the green glow, silver and green ribbons had been woven through the chandeliers and hung down in tresses, shimmering each time they moved; garlands of ivy and mistletoe were draped across the walls. The fireplace flared a constant green too, several students amusing themselves with making the fire turn into different shapes. It felt like a much posher party than the ones in the Gryffindor common room, but Harry could see why people like Malfoy would enjoy it. Was that a whole, stuffed swan to the side? Who paid for these things?
''Impressive, isn't it?'' Malfoy spoke with a slightly puffed chest, clearly having misinterpreted Harry's bewildered look. ''Snape makes sure we have the best of the best to welcome new students every year, in collaboration with some members of the board of Governors, my father included.''
''We just had an all-you-can-eat dinner in the Great hall,'' Harry remarked. ''Like, two hours ago.''
''An all-you-can-eat of common chicken drumsticks and bacon,'' Malfoy scoffed. ''That isn't food, we give that to our house-elves!''
''No wonder they all look so unhealthy, Elves are herbivores.''
''As if I care. Come on, let's stop standing here. It is bad enough that you're late, don't start defending House-Elves too now.'' Harry cared a lot, in fact, but he had no choice but to stay silent as Malfoy dragged him into the crowd of Slytherins who looked at him with curious eyes and pointing fingers. Fucking great, what wild rumours had been told? He wished now that he hadn't come, he was still tired as hell and just wanted to rest in bed, lose his eyes and listen to nothing but silence-
Malfoy stopped when they reached two familiar faces: the two boys who had accompanied Malfoy at Gringotts. Harry also knew why Malfoy had bothered with them now: on Pucey's chest he saw the badge of Head Boy, and Warrington had a Quidditch Captain pin on his. Harry wondered why neither had mentioned that before in Gringotts, only Malfoy had flaunted with his power of being a Prefect. Both greeted him with nods and curious looks.
''Good that you came, Potter. Just in time too, I almost started my speech without you,'' Pucey said with a nod. He raised a bottle with butterbeer -which apparently wasn't too 'common' for Slytherins- and clanked on it with a spoon, a clear sound ringing through the common room. The Head Girl and a few Prefects shushed the few people who wouldn't shut up. Harry grudgingly had to admit that he was slightly impressed, not a single person in Gryffindor would be able to command near-instant silence except their Head of House.
''This year, the honour falls to me to welcome all of you, as your new Head Boy,'' Pucey spoke. ''Today, most of us had the pleasure to return to Hogwarts. Some of you are finally able to start. Our newcomers have already been welcomed by the Prefects, so I'll keep it short. I expect all of you to represent our House well: show your abilities, look after your fellow Slytherins, dispel rumours as soon as they come up. I warn all of you to always be careful about showing too much of yourself, be it to other students or teachers. The Sorting Hat this year called for inter-house cooperation, and while I agree that making the other houses our enemies even more than they already are isn't wise, your housemates always come first, remember that. There is some truth to it however, and for this purpose we have invited a non-Slytherin to this party for the first time in centuries: the Champion of the Triwizard Tournament last year, who represented our entire school: Harry Potter!''
Pucey clapped and gave Harry an expectant look, who only stared back with hollow eyes. His brain, trying to use what little energy he had left, was slow to catch up. Was he supposed to do or say anything or…
''Go on, idiot,'' Malfoy whispered in his ear, giving him a shove in the back. He stumbled forward a bit, sure that he was getting red in the face when Pucey hauled him up to the table. Did they really expect him to give a speech now?
It appeared so, so Harry took a deep breath and said: ''Err, hello everyone. Thanks for letting me crash your party. I mean, I didn't come to crash it of course but… you know.'' Absolute silence followed, and his own awkward laugh sounded in his ears like the cry of a dying parrot. ''Right, so, as your Head Boy just said, the Hat wanted the houses to cooperate.'' He squared his shoulders a bit. If he had to be here, maybe he could actually get a message across. ''I think it is very important that we all stick together. It is clear that some higher-ups in the Ministry want to start controlling Hogwarts, but only we get to decide how this school is run. Please do not be tempted to rat out fellow students, no matter from which house, and try to create a helpful environment. I received quite a few points in the Tournament just because I cared not only about winning, but also about helping my fellow Champions on the way. Sometimes, your eye shouldn't just be on the prize, as it might not be worth as much as you think it is. Connecting to other people is just as important and can give you many better opportunities in years to come. So… so when you have the chance, be kind.''
The applause he received was kind of unexpected, and he tried to look for a free spot to jump down from the table again. There was none. Instead, he was bombarded by questions, ones that showed just exactly why they'd all listened to him.
''Is it true that you beat Krum and Diggory in duels in that maze?''
''Did you fight the Giant Squid?''
''Did that dragon wound you badly?''
He tried to answer them best he could, giving them details for everything the monitor spells had not picked up or kept track of during the Tasks. As the minutes ticked by though, people got bolder.
''Did the Headmaster speak the truth about Moody being a Death eater?''
''Have you really been personally trained by Crouch? ''
''Did you use illegal spells during the Tournament because of that?''
Harry realised it was getting out of hand and waved his arms. ''Whoa whoa, just want to cut you off there. Yeah, Barty Crouch impersonated Moody like the teachers said, but I won't say anything else about it. You should all know he was a wicked teacher, that's it. Whatever else Professor Dumbledore said about it, I won't confirm or deny.''
''You've met the Dark Lord though, haven't you?'' Pucey said in a calm voice, dark eyes twinkling unpleasantly. Harry tried to shoot Malfoy a murderous glare, but the boy had paled and was busy trying to whisper something to Pucey, who completely ignored the blond. This was getting out of hand and Harry had no idea what to do. Obviously, admitting it in front of over 70 students, most of whom he didn't know, was an idiotic thing to do. But to deny it, when he knew that these were the people most likely to wish for Voldemort's ideas to bear fruit, was also not great.
''What are you doing here, Potter?'' a voice spat from the back of the room, and Harry's gaze was drawn to a stone pillar shaped like a tree root with a snake curling around it. From its shadow stepped the Head of Slytherin house. ''Did you wish to already lose the Gryffindor House points once again before the school year started? Thought it funny to sneak into another common room after curfew?'' Harry blinked at the absurdity of Snape's words. If he would have snuck in, surely he wouldn't stand on a table with the Head Boy and Girl and several Prefects calmly watching him, would he? ''My office, now.'' For once in his life, Harry was relieved to be taken aside by Snape, for while surely horrible things were waiting for him in the Potion Master's office, at least he was spared from answering at all. He only threw a look back at Malfoy, who was in a heated debate with Pucey right now. As soon as they had reached the office and the door closed, Snape had his wand out and pressed it against Harry's throat.
''Of all the stupid things I thought you could do,'' the man slowly spoke, coal eyes boring into Harry's. In the flickering light of a nearby wall torch, it almost looked as if they were burning. ''Thought you'd gather some fame in my house now you can't flaunt with your actions among your friends?''
''I was invited,'' Harry bit back. ''By Malfoy, Pucey, and Warrington. I had no idea that it was only to bombard me with questions I can't answer. Maybe your Slytherins do not have as much self-preservation as I always believed. Pucey asked if I met the Dark Lord! No matter what I would have answered, things could have turned disastrous.''
The wand was removed, but Snape still eyed him suspiciously. ''And who told my students about this?''
Harry shuffled his feet. ''Well, I did tell Malfoy last year, but he heard it from his father anyway. The Dark Lord was rather angry about it for a while, but decided not to wipe Malfoy's memory or anything. Malfoy clearly told the rest, I'd even told him to stay quiet.''
''Have a seat, Potter.''
Harry blinked. Had Snape really offered him a seat instead of ordering him to sit? The usual venom had even lacked. He hastily sat down on the nearest wooden chair. ''Sir, I didn't think-''
''You never think, Potter,'' Snape sharply retorted. ''That's the problem. I will take care of my students to remind them not to ask dangerous questions or spread the word of there being something... odd about you, as difficult as that is. You should try not to jump into dangerous situations just because you can for once.'' Snape's robes swished as he walked past Harry and opened one of the many jars that stood on his shelves, withdrawing a root-like thing from the slimy container. It was dropped on a chopping board and Snape quickly diced it up with a knife. Harry followed the precise movements with his eyes, wondering if this actually had a purpose or if Snape was taking his anger out on a random object instead of Harry's throat. He received his answer when the Potion's master put the diced blocks of root into a satchel and handed it to Harry.
''You go back in there, Potter, and ensure that every single student eats one of these. I don't care how you do it, but you shall. It will make their thoughts of this evening incoherent, so they will not remember the details, including the detail of you being asked such a question and failing to answer. Now is not the time to either show your allegiance to the Dark Lord within Hogwarts, nor to reveal that you even know of his return beyond Dumbledore's suspicions.''
''Why are you helping me?''
Snape gritted his teeth. ''I am helping me. One wrong move from your side, and my own position could be compromised. Keep low, act like the dunderhead you were before and don't. get. in. my. way. Go now.''
Harry was about to leave, both confused about not actually receiving punishment and relieved by that the first conversation with Snape wasn't totally awkward, but he turned around at the last moment. ''Sir, I need some ingredients to brew a dreamless sleep potion. Could I reserve one of the labs somewhere in the next few days?'' Telling Snape about it wasn't something he'd wanted, but the git was Hogwarts's resident Potion Master, and it was better to brew it himself than going to the school nurse and making Madame Pomfrey aware of that he had sleeping troubles. At least Snape wouldn't care about his health. Or so he thought.
''Nightmares, Potter? Is your conscience getting to you?''
''If mine is getting to me, I can't imagine how many years of sleep you've missed,'' he retorted, almost instinctively. Snape instantly raised his wand at Harry again, lips trembling.
''Out, before I practise a new curse on you.''
Exhausted though he was, Harry stubbornly stood his ground, not wanting to leave before he got an answer. ''I request a reservation.''
''I do not see why I should give a precious spot of my labs to a student who does not even know the proper name of the potion he wishes to brew. It is a Sleeping Draught, Mr. Potter. While it indeed gives a sleep so deep that dreaming isn't possible, this informal name is incorrect.'' The wand was still raised in the air, and a feel of malice spread through him, appearing to originate from his heart. If Snape would fire a spell, it wouldn't be his fault that the man would be injured by a backfiring spell if Voldemort's protection activated… He opened his mouth to comment on Snape actually teaching more out of class than in it, when noticing that the locket had heated up again. With all willpower he could muster, Harry turned on his heel.
''Fine, I'll find another way then.'' With loudly beating heart, he exited the office, grasping the locket through he front of his robes. Had that malevolence been his own? Or were his emotions being influenced? Harry didn't want to talk to Riddle once more today, so his suspicion would remain unanswered. The teen slipped back into the Slytherin common room, where the party was in full swing now, people crowding around the tables with food and dancing with each other to slightly rocky music. Malfoy was easy to spot, and as soon as he reached the blond, Harry dragged him to the side of the room.
''Look Potter, I'm sorry, Pucey promised-''
''Yeah yeah, just like you did, you mean? Snape will have a talk with him still. You can redeem yourself by helping me.'' He opened the satchel and withdrew a cube. ''Every single person in this room needs to eat one of these. Well, you and me excluded, I guess. Maybe Pucey too, it wouldn't do to have him forget what Snape wants to reprimand him for.''
''Fine. Whatever,'' Malfoy agreed, far too quickly. He was still pale, and Harry guessed that Malfoy had never forgotten the one time that he, Harry and Voldemort had been in one room together. ''Crabbe!'' Malfoy called out, waiting impatiently until his lackey had trotted up to them. Without another word of greeting, the blond handed Crabbe the small cube. ''Eat this and tell me how it tastes.''
The other boy wordlessly opened his mouth and chomped down on the cube. ''Sweet,'' he shrugged.
Malfoy looked pleased and snatched the entire satchel away from Harry. ''Perfect, I'll hide them in the desserts then. Even those who stuffed themselves before won't miss out on the last toast with elf wine and dessert. I hope that was helpful enough to not have any sort of debt with you now?''
Harry sighed deeply and nodded. ''I'll be leaving then.''
''Leaving?'' Malfoy asked. ''Don't be daft! We've barely even started. Your speech wasn't too impressive, so you need to interact a bit with more people. Look Potter, I know you're not the most social person, but do make an effort at least. You're a Champion now, your opinion matters! Look what Delacour did with her title: organising a continent-wide debate and calling many groups to action. You can't rely on only a few allies, no matter how powerful they are. You have to carve your own name and getting to know your peers, the people who will ultimately be your colleagues in whatever field you end up working in, will open far more doors to you. Don't miss this opportunity! Merlin, it is really clear that you've been raised by some Muggle buffoons.''
Malfoy's comment was probably meant to be hurtful, like the insults that Harry's long-time rival threw at his friends, but the Gryffindor couldn't help but start laughing at the image of his family as three buffoons with exaggerated details like Aunt Petunia's craned neck and Uncle Vernon's moustache. ''Sometimes, Malfoy, you're pretty okay. Alright, if you insist…''
The start was annoying as he mingled with the Slytherins, stupid questions still being asked that he didn't want to answer, but as the desserts -some magical muffins with moving liquid chocolate on top- were served, all students indeed because a lot less talkative. The next hour passed rather quickly and peacefully, Harry spending more time looking into the depths of the lake than actually interacting with people despite Malfoy's nagging. In the end, he sat down with a few younger Slytherins who were curious about tales they'd heard about the Chamber of Secrets and the Forbidden Forest, two places that hardly any student had ever ventured to. Talk of the Forest made Harry throw in a comparison to the forest of Broceliande, which was followed by an interesting conversation about various magical forests.
''I practically live in one,'' a girl that Harry had before only registered as Daphne Greengrass' little sister, said. ''Our estate is built just past the borders of Brechfa forest in Wales, to keep all the nosy Muggles from seeing it. The forest used to teem with magic centuries ago, unfortunately the anti-Muggle wards have shrunk over time, with them trampling many of the beneficial plants. Mother tries to take care of the part that is left as best she can, forming a small area of preservation for magical wildlife. She's a Herbalist, you see. Sometimes she sells high-quality items to apothecaries all over the country as long as it doesn't damage the eco-system.''
''I must have been great to have that as your backyard, growing up,'' Harry remarked.
Greengrass shrugged. ''Sometimes. Mostly, I was yelled at for secretly playing with endangered plants. My sister Daphne stepped in a fairy ring once because she wanted to see what would happen. Mother saved her just in time and was mad for weeks.''
''What does happen if you step in a fairy ring?'' he asked with interest. ''They always seem like such harmless creatures.''
''They are, if you're not trespassing on their domain. If she'd stayed there long enough for the fairies to see it though, they might have taken that as an invitation into our home and messed up everything, or gotten into her head with magic. I'm still convinced that at least one of them did, Daphne has complained about strange dreams ever since that day. Doesn't seem too serious though. Was there nothing dangerous in the forest of Merlin?''
Harry thought about it. It had all looked so wonderful back then, he had a hard time imagining that anything in that forest could have been out to hurt him. Honestly, the most danger had come from Voldemort and he doubted that anything in there would have sought a quarrel with the Dark Lord. The way the man had sliced up that water fairy was still an unpleasant image in his mind, and was only overshadowed by positive feelings because there had been so many impressions on that day, most of them wonderful. The way Voldemort had imparted all of his knowledge, how he'd grasped Harry afterwards when being led away from those Muggles and the instinct to harm them-
''Hello? Earth to Potter!''
He was startled out of his thoughts as Greengrass waved a hand in front of his face and her three friends – Harper, Fearnsby and Edevane – all giggled.
''You look like you were thinking of a far-away lover,'' Greengrass teased, and Harry tried his best to control his expression.
''Sorry, guess I'm just tired,'' he said. ''Somehow need to find my way back to Gryffindor tower still and hope I won't get chewed out by my friends about my absence.'' He hoped he could just sneak in and have it be shrugged off by Ron. The brand-new prefect in their dorm might not be so forgiving. Dean had never cared too much before about Harry or Ron's nightly trips into danger, but he might now it was his responsibility to keep them in line.
''What's that Potter? You have a lover?'' he heard, and a second later, Malfoy dropped on the couch next to him with a shit-eating grin that didn't promise much good. For how distressed Malfoy had been before about the Dark Lord business, he'd sure regained his cockiness fast.
Groaning aloud, Harry tried to smack the side of Malfoy's head. ''No! Shut up!''
''So defensive! Sore topic?'' Trying to let the subject die fast, Harry didn't bother answering, not wanting to start any kind of rumours.
The four girls sitting around him looking at him with hopeful expressions made him slightly regret that decision, especially when Malfoy continued with the completely inappropriate comment: ''Come on, I know that you are a hopeless case and I'm sure that bird's nest you call hair doesn't attract many people, but you've been hailed by many fools as the Boy-Who-Lived before and now you're Hogwarts' Champion. You've had bloody fan clubs! Don't tell me that you've never at least slept with a single person.''
The words sounded so casual, as if Malfoy was an expert. Maybe that was the reason why, instead of the spluttered 'I'm only fifteen' that he'd wanted to say, he instantly replied with: ''Yeah, you've met him at Easter!'' The speed at which Malfoy's smug expression fell and his skin paled was so funny that Harry didn't regret it. It wasn't even a lie, Voldemort was the only person he'd ever shared a bed with, even if it had really been for sleeping. Now the thought entered his mind, he felt himself going red though, and Harry quickly stood up and excused himself, leaving Malfoy to the wolves: four nosy girls who were whispering amongst themselves and who would most definitely not let this rest.
His heart raced all the way up to Gryffindor tower, where the Fat Lady only let him in with a stream of reprimands about it being far beyond curfew. What had possessed him to say that? He couldn't even blame the Horcrux, this was not something that Riddle would have known about. He snuck upstairs, where all his dorm mates were thankfully all asleep. Harry shrugged his robes off and fell on the bed, shutting the hangings with a flick of his wand. Harry stared up into emptiness, fingers winding around the chain around his neck almost automatically. As usual, sleep wouldn't come when he shut his eyes, only more thoughts and questions popping up with each minute. What would Malfoy think now? Would Harry have to explain somehow or let it rest and hope that the Slytherin knew he'd meant it as a joke? Would his friends question him tomorrow about being gone all evening?
''You're a worrying little thing, aren't you?''
Harry bolted upright, staring at Riddle, who sat casually at his bedside. ''What.. What are you…'' he frantically hissed.
''Hush, you might wake your dormmates,'' the other spoke, far louder than Harry had. ''Oh, they can't hear me,'' he said with a hint of bitterness, answering Harry's unspoken thoughts. ''I received much energy from you, enough to materialise for you, but others can't quite notice me. I am less than a ghost, at best a hint of distorted reality in the corners of one's eyes.
''What are you doing here?'' Harry whispered, on a second thought casting a silencing charm to speak freely.
''Impressive, that is a fifth-year-spell,'' Riddle murmured. He lay down on his side, facing the other, and Harry instinctively scooted away a bit. ''So, you have some allies within Hogwarts, one of whom is a Professor? Good, although your speech was a bit tacky. Cooperation and kindness?'' the man scoffed. ''That's just embarrassing, no wonder they didn't listen to it. You need to know what captivates your audience, Harry. For Slytherins, speak to their ambition, concrete things they can gain, not an 'it might give a better reward in the end'.''
''I don't need your advice,'' Harry grumbled.
''I think differently,'' Riddle answered in all seriousness. ''You have interacted with my older self, you surely are… important to him as a Vessel. If I am now a Dark Lord comparable to Grindelwald, he will have expectations of you.''
''I know his expectations very well, better than you,'' Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes. ''Listen, I know that you and him are kind of the same person somehow but… I've spent months in the same house as him, okay? You don't know how much I know of him. That trip to Merlin's grave I've spoken about before? That was a... a birthday gift from him in a way. I've spent hours talking to him about all kind of topics and learned magic from him. I don't want you to have some sort of idea that you can teach me about how your older self would act or what he would think. If you want to share your thoughts, please do, but don't disguise it somehow as his supposed wishes.''
Riddle stayed silent for a while, and Harry became nervous under his unblinking stare. He'd only agreed to aid the man a few hours ago and Riddle was already looking as if he felt right at home here. It was one more confirmation that Voldemort could be rather clingy, even while speaking about being inhuman and not needing other people. ''Hey,'' Harry said, getting an idea. ''I've been able to… to connect to other Horcruxes before. It might benefit us both if I try that with you.''
''No,'' the other denied. ''I am parasitical in nature, if there are benefits to a mutual connection, you will reap those. I prefer to stay this way… at least for now.'' Harry admitted to himself that he was slightly disappointed. Secretly, he'd been longing to being able to feel Riddle's magic. Did he even have magic?
''Riddle…'' he sighed. He wanted to continue but couldn't. In a flash, the other was on top of him, a furious snarl on the young Dark Lord's face, eyes a glowing red now that gave him a demonic look in the dark. Harry lay completely still as two hands closed around his throat and smoke started rising around him, burning in his lungs. Nothing had been able to faze the other much before, so Harry was paralysed. Black, tousled hair fell down in strands around the pale face that was no more than an inch from Harry's now.
~You will never call me that! Never! Do you understand? My name is Lord Voldemort.
''Yeah…'' Harry croaked. ''I get it.'' The smoke and hands retreated, but Riddle still sat heavy on his legs, an ominous figure towering above Harry. ''I didn't realise… the only other Horcrux I've really spoken to still used that name. Sorry.''
''This was your only warning, boy,'' the Horcrux hissed, before vanishing in front of Harry's eyes, literally dissolving into smoke that was sucked back into the Locket.
The conversation had done nothing to ease Harry's hammering heart, which thumped faster than ever before. He should be more careful. Displeasing Riddle - Harry still couldn't think of him differently in thought, when comparing him to the entirely different-looking Voldemort he'd come to know - could have terrible results, Harry's friends being in danger the most pressing on his mind. Why was it just his luck that he always ended up having to deal with this unpredictable man one way or the other? Be it as an enemy, an ally, something-in-between or even as memories, Harry always crossed paths with him.
He closed his eyes once more and stroked the locket with his thumb, hoping that the gesture would calm Riddle down somewhat. ''It wasn't my intention to insult you,'' he whispered. He received no response.
Unable to properly sleep as usual, Harry let his thoughts drift wherever they wanted. Both Riddle and Voldemort appeared more than once, and the stark contrast between them already became clear. When younger, the man had been less patient, less obsessed with magic and more obsessed with himself and his place amongst people. Voldemort had power and immortality now. At the point of creating the piece of soul that resided in the Locket, the Dark Lord had still been clawing his way to it, and as a Horcrux, Riddle would never achieve either. The piece of soul could very well be killed. Harry's mind drifted in a half-delirious state, unable to tell what was real or not, thinking of Riddle, sitting on top of him. Of Voldemort, sleeping peacefully next to him. Of all the times Harry had ended up hugging the Dark Lord somehow, of the times they'd shared their minds and memories.
''I wish you were really here,'' Harry mumbled into the empty air.
So, the filler-chapters are finally over, haha. And no, the Horcrux is certainly not going to make Harry's life easy ;P
Please tell me if you have any questions or comments, I always love hearing from you guys!
xx GeMerope