WARNING: Traumatic violence and Voldemort being creepy as fuck.

Raising Thestrals C30 - Oh Nose

Harry knew this was a bad idea.

But he couldn't let Theo get punished.

Besides he had done stupider things for friends.

But at the very least, this time, Harry was rising his life and sanity already from within the hospital wing.

Closing his eyes, he thought of the man, the monster, who he occasionally shared mind space with.

When he next opened his eyes, they were not his own.

Those who stood before him were the Death Eaters who had been freed last time.

Who had managed to escape this time without anyone learning about it.

Harry tried to remove himself only to find the door locked behind him.

Cold fear filled him as Voldemort's glee rose through them both.

Last time, they had been in the arena of Harry's mind, now they were in the bone court of the Dark Lord's.

And only one of them was a Master Legilimends.

oOo

Voldemort laughed, standing from his throne.

He and his followers had taken over a muggle church, they had dusted muggles and warded the place out of existence that not even Dumbledore would be able to get through.

Voldemort cradled Potter's consciousness and essence in his mind as the boy tried to escape, scraping ineffectively at the confines of the walls he had constructed around him.

Potter's fear was the finest thing Voldemort had tasted in decades.

He practically skipped down the steps, as the possibilities flooded him.

"Welcome, Mr. Potter," he crowed, his followers looking around as if they were missing something.

Which of course, they were.

"Where shall we start, Mr. Potter?" he crooned. "Did you really think you would have the upper hand? That I would allow you to spy on me? Poor, poor naive child."

Bella looked at him, cocking her head, the only one among his followers with an inkling to what was happening.

Voldemort went to her as Potter's panic crescendoed. He reached a hand out to her which she took without question or hesitation.

Feeling giddy, he spun her as if in a dance, she landed against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, pinning her arms as he buried his face against her neck. He rubbed his cheek against her dark hair, glorying in Potter's disgust.

"How did you two meet, Mr. Potter?" Voldemort asked aloud as she sank into their embrace. "You didn't meet our dear Bella while she was in prison– oh…"

Voldemort watched Potter's memory, of running through the Ministry, throwing the torture curse for the first time.

You have to mean it.

"Oh, Mr. Potter," Voldemort laughed.

Time travel? Isn't that cheating?

Harry growled at him, throwing raw power at him without precision or effect.

Voldemort held Bella closer, her breath catching as he kissed her cheek, before spinning her away from him.

Her laughter had such a wonderful reaction on Potter.

The boy's disgust was delicious.

"I was hoping you would be present for our next strike," Voldemort told him

What? Potter asked.

Voldemort laughed, gripping the boy closer in his mind.

His Death Eaters summoned their masks, and in a swirl of shadows they dissipated, appearing with pops that echoed in the halls.

Where–

"Welcome to prison, Mr. Potter. Muggle prison," Voldemort said, pulling his wand with a flourish, arms spread wide.

Muggles raised their weapons, their bullets pinging off their shields as green light spilled from their wands.

Bella began cackling and literally skipping down the halls towards the men's wing of the prison while he turned toward the women's wing, Nott clearing the way.

"Do you miss your family, Mr. Potter?" Voldemort asked.

oOo

Harry felt as if everything was spinning out of control.

Voldemort knew now, knew that Harry had time travelled.

And the monster's glee was inescapable.

He had been planning this.

Preparing for this ever since Harry had gotten the upper hand.

Voldemort was a Master of the mental arts, of course he wouldn't allow for that first attack to stand.

Have you ever heard of a horcrux, dear Harry? Voldemort asked within their minds.

"No," Harry said with their lips, flinching as more bodies dropped.

"The soul is a funny thing," Voldemort said. "Is that they are elastic. You can anchor them to this world and then they heal over time."

Harry made no reply.

"You broke one of my anchors, I didn't feel it at first, but I realised soon enough and now I have a favour to return," Voldemort crooned.

Harry was confused until he felt a sensory memory of his hand on a book.

A diary.

Harry shuddered at the memory of the basilisk and Ginny collapsed on the floor.

Voldemort laughed, "Such a soft heart, even for your enemies."

Harry screamed as Voldemort ripped into his mind once more.

Looking into his past. Not anything important that he had thought to protect.

No, instead, it was his childhood.

His sad, pitiful childhood.

Life in the Dursleys' house.

The hunger.

The fear.

Hiding beneath the steps in the darkness.

"The first person I killed didn't matter," Voldemort said as they entered the cell block and began executing women in their cages. Alarms were blaring, gunshots rang out and in the distance, laughter and whooping of adults like primary school students released for the summer.

Harry felt as if it was his spells killing them; these women who likely didn't deserve death for whatever crimes they had done or been accused of.

Voldemort laughed, "Oh, Potter. You make it too easy. The world's my hostage when it comes to you, anyone will do."

If Harry was the one with the body, he would have been hyperventilating.

"But you're special, Mr. Potter, and I want your first time to be special."

Harry shrunk in on himself, metaphorically speaking.

"Oh, no longer a virgin, I see," Voldemort sing-songed. "Congratulations. But that wasn't the cherry I was referring to."

I hate you, Harry snarled.

"Here we are," Voldemort said cheerfully.

The prisoner screamed.

Only… Only Harry recognised that voice.

This woman.

Aunt Petunia! Harry tried to yell.

"Like I said, special," Voldemort said.

Please, don't! Please, Voldemort. She doesn't deserve to die!

"Doesn't she?" Voldemort asked. "It's because of people like her that make it impossible for people like you and I to live in peace. Look how afraid she is."

Harry looked down into his aunt's face. Her hair fell limp around her cheeks, her eyes pale and unfinished without the makeup she typically wore.

She was on her knees, afraid of him.

And it felt awful.

Voldemort scoffed, "You're no fun. Why can't you enjoy the little things, Potter? She made your life hell."

Because I'm on my knees with her.

"But I haven't even hurt you yet," Voldemort sang.

Go to hell.

Voldemort tsked, "I'm trying to be nice."

Bullshit.

Voldemort ignored him, "See, I've realised what connects us, and I want back."

You want what back?

"My anchor, of course," Voldemort said, pointing his wand at Aunt Petunia. "You're not as pretty as your sister, did you know that?"

Aunt Petunia choked on a sob, "Please, spare me."

Voldemort scoffed, "It must have been the magic that made Lily Potter the superiour being. You, Ms. Petunia, are the uglier, weaker, inferior creature. And I can honestly say you deserve this, beyond the tragedy of your birth."

Please, Harry tried again.

"Imagine how you'll beg when this is someone you love?" Voldemort cut him off. "You have so many to choose from now, your father, your dogfather, the McGonagalls, and dearest Luna."

Rage filled him, replacing the fear, I will kill you.

Voldemort's sense of victory was like a flash of lightning as he took a breath to cast with Harry's fury, "Avada Kedavra!"

You have to mean it, Mr. Potter, echoed in their mind as the light left Aunt Petunia's eyes as the green light of the magic faded.

Harry screamed as Voldemort ripped Harry's soul apart.

There was power in death, and Voldemort was using that power to tear into Harry's soul.

Voldemort's fortress he had built to keep Harry in crumbled, and Harry's bleeding consciousness fell back into his own body.

oOo

Voldemort had always enjoyed making horcruxes, in experiencing tangible proof of the intangible.

Voldemort breathed in as the woman's body cooled, strength returning to him that he didn't know he was missing.

His whole body tingled as his soul reforged itself after being separated from Potter, his accidental horcrux.

The power he felt returned to him was… indescribable. Potter had been unlike any other horcrux, more than anchor, it had halved his soul.

But now?

Now he was whole.

He looked down at his hands, smiling as they became better defined, as if clay had finally become flesh.

His mind spun as he reviewed every choice, every nonsensical choice he had made since killing Lily Potter.

Voldemort exhaled as he turned on his heel and called to his followers, "Move out!"

His Death Eaters in sight stared at him.

He ran a hand over his face and smiled as he felt the proper arch of his features, his nose, and up through his hair.

Voldemort laughed as he set the world around him ablaze.

oOo

Harry woke, rolling off his cot, screaming.

He had killed his aunt, he had killed his aunt!

It was only once he was fully possessing everything that had happened to him did the pain hit.

He clutched his chest as he bled, his heart feeling as if it was pouring out between his fingers.

His aunt was dead because of him. Just like his mother's death had been on his hands too.

"Mr. Potter!" Madame Pomfrey cried out. "Hold still, you're bleeding."

Harry sobbed, curling in on himself. He felt… tainted.

Violated.

Gentle hands caught his, pulling them away from his chest as Madame Pomfrey dabbed a rag against his forehead.

It wasn't his heart that was bleeding but his scar.

Luna was sitting on the floor in front of him, her cheeks wet with tears, "Oh, Harry."

"It hurts," he managed to get out.

She squeezed his hands, "I know, Harry. I know, but you're free to fly now."

"What?" he gasped, feeling as if his heart was pumping around a hole.

"You can shift now," Luna said with a pained smile. "You're yourself now. Shift and it won't hurt so much."

"I don't understand–"

Luna cupped his cheeks, "You've been fighting him your entire life. Fighting to stay yourself, to own your own soul. It's yours now, he's gone, and whatever the intention was, you will heal now."

Harry shook his head, "I killed her."

"No," Luna said. "Voldemort killed them. Please shift?"

"I can't transform."

"Try," she pleaded.

He took a breath, trying to set aside the agony in his soul.

Luna had asked this of him. He had dragged her through hell and she was asking this of him.

To shift into his animal form like she had been able to do months and months ago.

He pictured his kite for her, the bird that could follow her winged rabbit through the night sky.

Suddenly, it was that easy, his human body melting away as he fell with spread wings toward Luna who gathered him up in her arms as if he were a lost fledgling.

And perhaps he was, because she was right.

Sirius was right about being an animagus.

It hurt less to be himself as a bird.

Guilt wasn't the same for him. Everything still hurt, but it wasn't the pain that was overwhelming but the sheer exhaustion of it.

His head dropped against her chest and everything in him told him that he was safe.

With Luna, he was safe.

oOo

Free, no paywall content, join this discord cult: Live reading this Sunday, 26th of November, 12pm Eastern Standard Time (New York Time) /BNMEXM9RBB Discord dot ggBNMEXM9RBB

oOo

AN: Thoughts, robins, or feedback, pretty please?