A/N: A lot more was added here, hope you all enjoy the extra scene at the end.
Chapter 2
We'll Go Together
"Albus, I need help." Albus was roused from his focus at the noise from the entrance to his office.
The voice was certainly male. Young, too. But no student at Hogwarts had ever called him by his first name. Even most of faculty did not do so. Therefore, it was a most curious Albus Dumbledore who opened the door to his office, only to find a complete stranger in front of him.
Young had almost been an understatement. The boy could have passed for a seventh year. Albus guessed him to be no older than eighteen. But a student of Hogwarts, he was most certainly not. Albus had never laid eyes on this youth at any point in his life.
Almost without realizing his own words Albus spoke to him. "Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask, young man. But I am going to have to ask you who you are first."
Albus watched as the boy nodded wearily. "Of course. Of course. My name is Harry."
Albus waited patiently for the surname, but quickly realized that it would not be forthcoming. Deciding to deal with that small detail later, he opened his door, allowing the youth entrance.
"Might I ask how you know me?"
The boy before him showed a soft smile. "Isn't that the million-galleon question, professor. A lie would be simple, no mess. But the truth, would stretch beyond even your belief, sir. I don't even know where to begin."
Albus reached out a hand to place on the boy's arm. When the boy's watery green eyes met his own, he tried to reassure him.
"I find that when one struggles to tell a story, one should always start at the very beginning."
Albus stayed silent as Harry nodded his head and began to speak. "I was born Harry James Potter on July 31st, 1980."
It was a tale that stretched for over an hour. Long forgotten lay the stack of ungraded essays, left behind for a tale that spanned the better part of two decades. A tale of pain and bitter failure. Not Harry's, no. The young man acted with a sense of bravery and honor that was almost beyond reproach. No, every ounce of failure that littered Harry's life lay on the ground at Albus's feet.
"And I killed her. Albus, I wrapped my hands around her neck and screamed as I took everything from her." The raw pain in Harry's voice and the tears being shed almost brought Dumbledore to tears himself. Before he could speak, to try and pull the boy from his grief, he heard Harry chuckle.
"I begged, Albus. I begged for just one more chance. And all of a sudden, she was standing in front of me, asking me who I was again. And all could see was the girl I had killed, not Voldemort. She was barely more than a breath away from breaking down into little pieces herself. So, I told her I'd take care of everything. I put her to bed on the seventh floor and came to find you. I just don't know what to do."
The story ended so abruptly that Albus found himself expecting more.
"And I assume there was nothing that could be done about Ms. Warren?" There was a tinge of hope that Albus could not help but express. Surely if Harry had possessed the ability to move through time, then he had to have done something for the girl whose life had been so tragically taken. But Albus knew deep down that his hope was a little more than a fleeting wish.
The boy shook his head. "I'm pretty certain that her body was the medium I traversed through to get here. It wasn't around when I found myself here, at least. I was caught up in an... explosion in my own time. I probably arrived unconscious and woke up soon after."
"Is there a connection you had with Ms. Warren, or do you think it was your connection with Emily that summoned you to this point in time." Once Albus heard Harry's theory, he started making theories of his own. But before he made any real estimations, he needed more information.
Harry looked at him, confused. "What do you mean, sir?"
Dumbledore stood, motioning for Harry to follow him as the two left his office. As the two entered the corridor he told Harry his theory. "I believe, Harry, that your arrival at this point in time was no mere coincidence. I think that at the moment of your death, the connection you had with Voldemort prevented you from passing on. Somehow, her horcruxes have tethered your soul to hers though this connection in your scar. Though clearly the effects were far different. Your soul, nonetheless, was ripped from your body."
"How do you explain the time travel then, sir?"
Dumbledore wished that he could give Harry a smile, but the passing of Myrtle Warren weighed too heavily on his soul to do so. "That is a theory that I am a tad more confident in. I believe that the connection you share to Voldemort, brought you to her in her time of need. But it could not transport the living Harry Potter. When you became a wraith, that was the first moment in time that you were susceptible to being pulled through time, to Emily Riddle."
"So, does that mean my soul is damaged? Do I have a horcrux somewhere now? I've had to kill before, yeah, but I never enjoyed it." Harry was trying to draw his own conclusions, and it was clear that he found the concept of Voldemort's soul having such a direct impact on him hard to understand. Albus wasn't certain either, he was just theorizing, but he was taking Harry somewhere so he could learn more about what happened.
However, to explain the intricacies of soul magic to a young man who was not very knowledgeable on the subject would be akin to describing color to a blind man. Futile. Therefore, Albus shook his head and gave a different, but still true answer to the question, "No. There are many ways to damage the soul, Harry. But to make a piece that can be extracted, for the purpose of a horcrux, for instance, needs a truly terrible act."
Harry nodded in understanding. Albus was about to continue before the two were interrupted by a man that Harry had only seen in photos, Headmaster Dippet. Dumbledore heard Harry's slight intake of breath and knew that Harry did not want others to know about his existence yet.
"Albus, a rare thing to see you up so late. A few more parchments than expected, I assume?"
Albus could only offer the older man a nod. Though he knew he'd have to arrange a meeting with the headmaster soon about the incident involving the death, or at the very least disappearance, of a student there were more pressing matters.
"Ah, before you two get too far... I'm sorry, young man, but might you tell me your name? It's a rare night when I fail to recognize an older student."
Harry couldn't help but inwardly panic at this question. He hadn't even given Dumbledore his newly changed last name and now he had to tell someone else.
"A rather understandable conundrum, Headmaster. This young man is Harry Gaunt, and he is not a student, rather he is the teaching aide I requested a month prior."
"Ah, I see. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gaunt, though I am sorry to say Albus, I do not remember receiving your request for an aide. Clearly..." Dippet gave a look to Dumbledore that told Harry that the headmaster knew the professor was lying. "I must have misplaced it. I am glad to see he has arrived safely. I will most interested in your performance, Mr. Gaunt." With that, the man walked away.
"Do you often get away with stuff like that? Or was there something going on that I missed?" Harry asked perplexed. Albus understood the boy's reasoning well enough, few people that are caught in a lie are fortunate enough to have the lie glossed over.
"Not particularly, no. But Armando trusts my judgment. If I lie to him, he understands that there is a good reason for it. He will question me on it, but he will do so when he and I are alone."
Harry nodded, then asked, "How did you know my... new last name, sir?"
"Well, Harry, when a young man shows up at my office and begins a rather farfetched tale, I tend to use a bit of legilemency to make certain I am hearing the facts. I also picked up on a few extra details." The headmaster didn't bother explaining that
The two of them eventually made their way to Albus's quarters. Once inside, he brought Harry to a large cabinet in the corner of the room.
"Are we using your pensieve, sir?" Albus had to pause for just a moment before he remembered that the boy with him possibly knew Albus better than Albus knew himself.
"Yes, we are. I wish to view a few more specific details of certain events, if you wouldn't mind."
Harry nodded. "You're more than welcome to look, but I can't go back to... that moment, sir. You'll have to be on your own."
Albus nodded, "Of course, Harry. I wouldn't ask you to relive that. If you'd like, you're welcome to leave that particular moment here. It won't erase the memory, but it will lessen the impact it has on your mind."
Albus gazed curiously at the boy, wondering which path he might take.
"No sir. There are some burdens that a person has to carry. Otherwise, the weight never gets any lighter"
Albus finally found the will to smile. His first impression of Harry had been right on the nose. He really was a lad of exemplary character.
"I understand, Harry, but I feel I must impart a hard truth to you. The weight of what happened will never lighten, Harry. You will simply get stronger as you bear it."
As Albus watched the boy withdraw his memories, he found himself fearful. He almost didn't wish to see what horrible act his care of Harry Potter had wrought, but he knew he couldn't turn away. Harry had already taken up his cross, and Albus was resolved to correct the future mistakes he would hopefully never make.
As Albus sat through the death of Emily Riddle, it became all too apparent that he'd failed more than just one person. He had also failed Emily. He watched as the girl almost immediately latched onto Harry as a sort of parental figure. Watched as she begged him for something that was impossible for him to give. And when the young man broke down and attacked her, Albus allowed the weight of his failure to settle home.
After viewing the memory and processing his own emotions, Albus went back to the beginning and began looking for information. It was in the little things, such as the glass floating in the air when Emily punched the mirror and the droplets of blood that rose in the air after her death. These details told him that at different points, both children had completely lost control of their magic.
When Emily had lost control, her magic responded by opening the way for a person who existed that had the strongest connection to her. Because in that moment the one thing Emily Riddle needed more than any other was another person. Someone to lean on.
The magic that was required simply pushed far beyond basic comprehension. It was easy to believe that, should Emily Riddle wish to do so, she could become the Lord Voldemort that Harry described. Albus wondered if even he could match her.
Harry's magic, while impressive in its own right, was tame in comparison. Almost like comparing a lake to a puddle. But his magic responded to his wish in a far more clever manner. While Emily's magic had done the impossible, Harry's latched on to it, somehow pulling the boy back through the slowly mending rift in time, allowing him a chance to fix his mistake.
Albus kept digging into the memory looking for more and more answers. But a foreign memory could only relate so much without the original holder present. Had Harry joined him, he'd have been able to see far deeper into their magic. Either way, he'd gotten what he came for.
When Albus resurfaced from the memory, he was not surprised to see Harry asleep on a chair. The boy had been through a great deal.
Gently, Albus placed the memories back into the boy's mind. Resolving to let Harry rest, he made his way to the headmaster's office.
When Harry awoke, it was to the sound of a heated argument.
"No, absolutely not, Albus. She cannot remain at this school. She is directly responsible for a student's death. Expulsion should be the least of her worries. She'll be lucky to avoid Azkaban."
"I've told you already headmaster, Ms. Warren's death came about for the actions of a basilisk. While it is true that Ms. Riddle let the beast out, she never had any intention of hurting anyone."
"Hogwash, Albus. Lie to me again, why don't you. You've already admitted that she's the heir of Slytherin. She's been menacing muggle-borns all year. Bigsby broke his leg thanks to her chasing him in that ridiculous get-up she had on. All the while hissing and spitting at him in parseltongue."
Harry waited for the pause in their conversation before he slowly rose from the conjured bed he woke in. He saw Armando Dippet and Albus Dumbledore standing in the entrance of the room. Harry assumed it to be early, otherwise they wouldn't be speaking near the hall.
"I will be the first person to admit she took her games too far. She acted with cruelty and prejudice. But Armando, listen to me. Emily Riddle never meant to take a life. That was not her intention."
"Yes, because clearly one's intentions matter in more than just spell casting. I'm sure Ms. Warren's ghost will be consoled so much by that. Her family is livid. Thank heavens that they're only muggles or else we'd be swamped with aurors."
"You know, Armando, that the ministry will not interfere with the operations of Hogwarts. The punishment of students lies solely with the headmaster."
"That may be true Albus, but not when a murder is involved. Sixteen years ago, when Bletchley and Fargus had an unauthorized wizard's duel and Fargus perished, we turned over Bletchley to the ministry. Forty years ago, when I had just started teaching, Druella Warbeck poisoned Matthew Humphreys when she overdosed him with amortentia. We turned her over as well, and the poor girl was inconsolable. There is an established precedence, Albus. And you're asking me to damage our relationship with the ministry, to pull rank, for the heir of Slytherin?"
Harry watched as Albus stayed quiet. Resolving himself, he spoke. "It's fine, Headmaster Dippet. Alert the aurors if you must. But allow me to speak with Emily before you do so."
"Finally, someone who sees reason. Thank you, Mr. Gaunt." As Dippet nodded to him, Albus gave a pained sigh.
"Armando, don't be a fool. He's going to take her and run. Then the two of them will become fugitives and have both their lives ruined." Albus waved his hand rudely in front of Armando's face.
"I know that, you barmy goat. But it's the best ending for all parties. The girl gets out of the country and finds a fresh start. We salvage our relationship with the ministry. It's called compromise, Albus. No one's happy."
Harry watched as Albus looked downcast. He knew the man wasn't done fighting for Emily, but Harry also knew that Dippet wouldn't budge.
"Albus."
When his old mentor looked him in the eye, Harry gave him a firm nod. "This is the best way. I'll take care of her. I won't... I won't fail her a second time."
Albus shook his head, and Harry knew that deep down, there was a part of his headmaster that would never give up on any student. A part that believed wholly in second chances.
Harry got up and began moving. "Lock the castle down. I have a way out. Once the aurors are done searching this place from top to bottom, we'll be long gone."
Dippet nodded his head, "I suppose we can manage that for you. I'll floo the DMLE and inform them of the disappearance. That will buy you a few hours before they determine foul play."
"Thank you, sir." In a move that surprised both older men, Harry wrapped Dumbledore up in a strong hug. "Thank you, Albus. We'll meet again."
As Harry made his way back to the room of requirement, he wondered just where they'd go. Magical ministries did little communication until Grindlewald really started up his international campaign. And seeing as it was still fairly recent that Grindlewald had made an open move against the world, Harry hoped that the story of a runaway from Hogwarts would be pushed down further on the priority list. Once the two made it to the continent, they would gain a large amount of freedom.
Just in case though, Emily would need a new wand; wands were a wizard or witch's identification, so a new wand would take care of most of her other problems. Since the Ministry already knew the name Emily Riddle, he'd have to convince her to take her mother's name. It wouldn't be hard, so long as he told her the name Riddle came from her muggle father. Though this time he'd break the news much more kindly.
When Harry got to the room of requirement, he was surprised the door was visible. When he'd left, he had instructed the room to hide her away. The only reason that the door would be visible now would be if its sole occupant wished to leave. Meaning that Emily was awake, and most likely staring at the door. Waiting for him.
Opening the door, Harry found the scene to be the opposite of what he'd expected. Piled on the bed that was on the left wall of the room, were numerous assortments of rumpled clothes, as though they'd been tried on, only to be immediately discarded. On the right wall of the room stood several racks of various other clothes, pristine and unworn. And in the center of the room, was a very naked Emily Riddle.
"Out." The single word was spoken low and with a hiss. Slamming the door before she'd even finished the word, Harry groaned.
"She's not gonna be happy about that one. Fuck my life." Hoping that she didn't dawdle, lest he have to venture in a second time and inform her of their eventual fugitive status, he began to wait. It seemed that she was aware of their need for urgency, as she came out in a simple white sundress.
"Nice and sensible, good." Harry knew little about the fashion in the forties, but assumed that Tonk's black leather pants, halter top, and black leather jacket would have drawn stares in this period.
Emily sneered at him, "Please, I'm only dressed like this because anyone who knows what I look like would never think to look for me in a white dress."
"Do I even want to know what you prefer to wear?"
As Harry walked back and forth to rearrange the room of requirement, she answered, "Take a guess. You've seen me in my preferred state, and in total you've only seen three. So, it's between the dress, robes, or nude."
"Robes it is then. We'll pick some up once we make it out of here." When Harry opened the room, the interior was completely different. It was a long, earthen passageway. "Come on, this will take us out to the Forbidden Forest."
She kept up easily with his brisk pace, but she kept the conversation going. "I assume that you were less than successful in covering up my mess." Her tone held no blame for him, just meek acceptance for her situation.
"No, without a body, there was precious little to take care of. I also asked someone to take care of our magical signatures in there. But you being available to the aurors for questioning isn't something we need right now. We'll come back once there's no longer a target on your back."
Emily sped up so she could look him in the eye while they walked. "What do you mean? How did you get someone else to do that?"
"Wall."
"Huh?" Harry grabbed her arm to pull her down a turn of the passage, shuddering at the feel of her skin. He was starting to wonder if he'd developed some sort of queer phobia to putting his hand on her. If so, it was clearly getting worse. Giving his head a rough shake, he kept walking.
"I meant you almost walked into a wall. Pay attention to where you're going. And to your question, I gave someone a hug."
He couldn't see her face, but he knew that she had to be looking at him as though he'd grown an extra head. "A hug?"
"Yeah," He looked back at her. "Some people like those."
When he'd surprised Albus with the hug when he left, Harry slipped a note into the man's pocket. Harry knew the man would find it, Albus had a knack for noticing the smallest things, after all. Harry picked up the pace again, but he was not fast enough to miss her muttering. "How would I know? I've never had one."
Just when he thought he couldn't feel worse for her, she hammered down another nail in his skull. He'd been eleven when he'd received his first hug from his friend Hagrid. It had been one of the first instances of affection that had ever been shown to him. Harry had grown up in a home where he had been a freak, and when Hagrid had given him a gruff hug, Harry was terrified. Of course, this could also have been do the man's size, he was easily four times larger than most grown men. Harry's memories of that day were rather fuzzy, being nearly a decade ago.
Emily, on the other hand, was sixteen and more than likely had never received an ounce of affection from anyone, save praise from an authority figure. "Well, don't forget, you're not alone anymore, Emily. You've got me now."
Harry didn't need to look at her to know her expression. He heard her give an almost breathless laugh, giddy even. He knew that she was most likely beaming from ear to ear. The same blissful look that she'd had before she fell asleep the night before. Soon the two came to a shaft of light. Harry gave it a good kick and it cracked open, revealing the Forbidden Forest. Harry jumped up and out of the hole and looked at Emily as she held out her hand. Harry swallowed his discomfort before he grabbed her hand and hoisted her up from the hole as well. Letting her go quickly, he wiped his hand surreptitiously on his robes as he took note of their surroundings. The sunlight was barely peaking above the horizon, it was early. As for their location, the room had spit them out exactly where he'd wished to be. The center of what would become Aragog's nest.
"It's... a tree? Wait? Where is the passage? Why is it hollow?"
Harry gave a short laugh. "The room that you stayed in last night is the room of requirement. It's probably the most impressive thing in the entire castle. Anything you require, it gives you, well, as long as its within Gamp's laws anyway. I needed a way to get the two of us out of the castle that wouldn't allow pursuit. So, this is what we got."
"Incredible. Think of all the wonderful things you could do with a room like that, Harry. I have to come back to it one day."
"You will, just not today. Come on, I want to go a bit farther out before we apparate. There shouldn't be anything dangerous in this part of the forest." And he knew that there wouldn't be. In his time, this had been the den of Aragog and his children. With the spider not having been released yet, he knew that they could pass through safely... or so he thought.
"H-Harry. Do werewolves count as dangerous to you?" Harry turned towards the now audible snarls from behind them. Emily was already looking towards them, and had her wand drawn. Harry slowly drew his as well as the beasts slowly started to circle them. Harry counted, there were eight.
This was not according to Harry's calculations. It was common knowledge in his time that the descendants of werewolves existed in the Forbidden Forest. And everyone was aware that at some point, werewolves did inhabit parts of the area. It had been a major reason why the Forbidden Forest had been called Forbidden. But why where they... It suddenly dawned on him. Aragog and his children must have been the ones to kill the beasts. Then probably ate the corpses.
"Harry, they're surrounding us."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious. A most astute assumption, how could I have ever missed it?"
"Are you always an asshole before you're about to die? Or are you just being charming for me?" Her voice was breathless and light, and Harry really hope that she wasn't about to pass out. He'd need her help with this many. If he'd been in a building that would be one thing, but in such an open area, the lycanthropes had the advantage.
Before he could answer in the affirmative to the first question, the werewolves made their move. Harry waved his wand in a wide arc over his and Emily's heads, calling forth a dome of fire to surround them. Two of the creatures hit the flames and their matted fur, cake in leaves and twigs, lit up immediately. Harry banished them back through the flames.
"Okay, change of plans, we apparate now."
Emily grabbed onto him, and he stared at her wildly. "I said we apparate. Let go!"
"I'm sixteen Harry! I never learned how." Harry stared at her. Once again, he was painfully reminded of his partner's young age. "Can't you apparate us both?!" She was shouting to be heard over the noise of the flames.
"I've never taken someone side-along. I'll splinch us." In all of Harry's time running from Voldemort he'd never taken a passenger with him. It had never been an issue in his timeline, because whenever his group had been located, everyone tended to scatter. Of course, there were people who couldn't apparate or were rather poor at the skill, but Harry had never been tasked to take a partner. Voldemort herself would always follow him to his destination and try to kill him. Taking someone with him would only ever have put them in greater danger.
He watched as she looked at the fire that was slowly dying down. The wolves on the other side were already visible again. She was panicking, he knew the sight. It was a common one that he'd seen many times during the war. He saw her stumble as she gripped onto him harder. "You're not going to leave me here alone, are you Harry?"
Her hands held onto him like a vice, the contact making him queasy. The werewolves' growls had grown into howls and Harry had to shout to be heard. "No!" He looked into her eyes. "I already told you, Emily! I'm not leaving you alone!" He placed his hand on hers to offer some reassurance and was pleased when he didn't immediately flinch away from her.
"We're going to fight." As soon as he finished speaking the strong and confident Emily Riddle returned. Unfortunately, he found out very quickly that a confident Emily Riddle was a reckless one. She kicked off the ground and Harry wondered how she practically flew through the air. Surely, she hadn't already mastered flight at the age of sixteen. Barreling through the fire, she shot right at one of the monsters. Harry made to follow her but was thrown to the ground from behind.
"ARGH!" When he felt the teeth sink into his shoulder, Harry roared in agony. There was just something special about the bite of a werewolf. The pain was only second to the cruciatus curse. He pushed a wave of magic through his body that tore the creature off of him. Forcing himself back up he made to follow Emily; he had to keep her safe. He was forced to fall short as he found his way blocked by two other wolves.
Harry was no stranger to fighting werewolves. Rather he could be considered an expert. Voldemort had often used the creatures to do her dirty work. And for a woman who enjoyed killing, the deeds she had the creatures do were beyond appalling. He'd routinely fought these beasts during the full moon, when they were at their peak strength. These three wild werewolves were nothing to him.
The two in front of him dove at him in tandem. Harry whipped his wand at one, sending a blasting curse at its snout. The second one, Harry simply shoved his fisted hand deep into the beast's gaping maw. The first one's head vanished in a fine red mist, while the second werewolf sunk its teeth deep into Harry's arm. Before it could wrench the limb off of his body, it froze and rolled over dead, leaving Harry to pry its teeth from him with a grunt of pain. The third creature, the one who'd been on his back, had finally pulled itself back into the fray, but Harry didn't even spare it a glance. He ran towards Emily's form through the few flames that were left, only bothering to throw a single cutting hex behind him. The third wolf was dead before he could even cover half the distance to her.
Once through the flames, Harry stopped dead in his tracks. His help was no longer needed, and it possibly never had been. The scene before him made him want to puke, though. One of the werewolves had been turned inside out. Disgusting as that was, the worst part was that it was still alive but for how long was anyone's guess. The second one had been impaled over and over then strung up by over a dozen glowing purple chains. He'd faced this spell numerous times, and he had a permanent scar on his right thigh from where Voldemort had driven one of the chains through him as he apparated away from her.
Though it should have been impossible, it was the final werewolf's fate that was clearly the most pitiable. Emily had completely pulverized the creature's lower body, only leaving the upper torso and head intact. Its arms were completely missing. The high-pitched squeal that came from the beast's mouth as Emily slowly began flaying its skin gave Harry goosebumps.
"Emily." Harry called out to her, but she either ignored him or simply was so focused on her task she didn't hear him.
"Emily! That's enough! Stop." His shout certainly got her attention as the witch jumped and almost dropped her wand. As she whipped around to look at him, he saw that she was terrified. Harry looked behind him, expecting one of the two wolves that he'd banished from the beginning but saw nothing. More likely, her horror stemmed from being caught indulging in something obscene. Harry knew all about her love of torture, and her actions didn't faze him in the slightest. They were certainly still complete abhorrent, however, and he knew he'd have to speak with her about them.
"You're bleeding? You've been bitten." She was already a foot away from him when he turned back to her. She put hands next to his wound and might have been about to help him, but he backed away from her, quickly. Last thing he wanted was her playing around with his blood. Though he'd never heard Voldemort say it aloud, he'd seen a certain look in her eyes when she cast the Cruciatus Curse or did anything that caused a person pain. She got off on that sort of thing, and Harry was more than willing to believe that it was a habit that she'd nurtured since childhood. After seeing what she'd done to the dying animal in front of them, he knew that she was most likely already keyed up and he didn't want to be her next victim, despite how small the chance might have been.
"I can take care of it."
"Harry, I can he-"
"I said I can handle it, Emily." He spoke more forcibly to her than he'd meant to, but he didn't want her to place her hands on him again. Not only was he completely uncomfortable around her in her current state, but he also still didn't like how his body reacted to her touch. His entire body had felt as though it wanted to physically revolt when she placed a hand on his shoulder, and the pain that shot through him when he'd jerked away was extensive as well.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I got carried away." She spoke softly. Though Harry did not want to have this conversation at this moment, he had little choice in the matter. He couldn't let her draw the wrong conclusion. In truth, Harry didn't particularly care that Emily had tortured a creature that had tried to kill them both. Had the circumstances been different, then perhaps he'd have to lay down some ground rules, but for now, he'd just speak his mind.
"Look, Emily. I know that you have... unacceptable tastes. I understand that you like to hurt things." The horrified look she gave him told him all too well that she'd done her best to hide that part of who she was. "You and I both know, Emily, that those things aren't okay to do." He waited a moment, and she picked up on what he was saying and nodded in assent.
"I want you to do your best to resist that urge, Emily. Okay. Fight against it. That need you feel. The need to cause pain. I know it makes you feel strong, but it's not real strength. When you're doing that, you're just being a little girl who is playing pretend." Of course, he wasn't going to comment on the fact that she fetishized it. That was an entire can of worms that he had no intention of opening. If she brought it up that was one thing, but no matter how that conversation went, it would be awkward.
When Emily nodded again, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "If you ever get to a point where you can't stop it, where you have to hurt someone, come talk to me. If it gets to be too much, remember I am always here for you. No matter what it is. No matter how terrible the things you need to talk to about are, I will listen to you. Can you promise me that?"
Emily nodded a third time, and Harry wondered why she was still so silent. Perhaps she was still uncertain about how he'd felt about what he'd seen? Deciding not to push it, after all, he'd just finished telling her that she should come to him of her own volition, Harry sat down and summoned a medium sized pebble to his hand.
Emily sat and watched him in silence, but, as he knew it would, her curiosity soon got the better of her and she approached him. "What are you doing?"
"Arithmancy."
The impressed look she gave him was almost insulting. "What's up with that look? Did you think I was some blundering idiot?"
"Well, no, but... you certainly don't seem to be the type of guy who finds the topic interesting."
Harry laughed. Perhaps this girl already knew him too well. "You'd be right then. I hate arithmancy. However, I don't have the knack my friend does for making portkeys, so I need to do the calculations in my head first."
Emily stayed silent while he finished working. As he tapped his wand to the piece of rock in his hand and spoke the incantation, he looked at her again. "But I can get there eventually."
"You could have just given me the stone and I would've done it in half the time." This time, the look she gave him was plain to understand. She thought he was a blundering idiot.
"Just take the fucking rock, Emily." As the two disappeared from the forest, Harry frowned. He'd completely forgotten to get his sickle out of the second werewolf's body.
Emily browsed the shelves of the Hogwart's library. She needed to find what she was looking for quickly. She had no idea at what time Harry would come for her today, and she had questions. Questions that Harry could answer, but she had no idea if his words would be true. She had a clue though. The last thing he'd said to her.
"Here it is. The Pureblood Directory." Flipping the small book open, she scanned the first page. On it were a list of the so called Sacred Twenty-Eight. She was in Slytherin. So it made sense that she might find the Gaunt family somewhere in this book. Of course, the Pureblood Directory had information on all Purebloods in Britain, but most of the volume was dedicated to the last twenty-eight pure family lines.
"Gaunt!" Nestled in between Greengrass and Flint, was Harry's last name. The name of her family. Flipping through the book she made her way to the chapter with her family, but she was disappointed to note that the all the information about her family was held on a single page.
The Gaunt family was once a most Ancient and Noble house, directly linked to Salazar Slytherin himself. The family was once robust and were considered the guardians of all of Slytherin's mysteries and magics. The only line to hold the ability to speak in Parseltongue, a magic Slytherin's ancestor, Herpo the Foul, created. The magic to speak to serpents waned with each generation and to preserve the ability, the Gaunts resorted to inbreeding. Though the family has maintained the rare ability, their bloodline became polluted, and most children born to the family tend to be little more than squibs.
Though the family is untainted by muggles, one should not seek a union into the house as their degree of inbreeding has disgraced the nobility of their name. Very few Gaunts remain alive, though the family head, Marvolo Gaunt, did have two children and a disinherited brother. The family is destitute and is expected to be the first line of the Sacred Twenty-Eight to become extinct.
With a disgusted sigh, Emily snapped the book closed. After so much searching, of course she'd come to find that she came from a fallen noble family. The other Slytherin's mockery of her might even return if the knowledge of her heritage came to light. Of course, with a few... delicate reminders, she'd keep them in line, but her Slytherin house was full of politics. Emily wielded the authority that she had through brute force and power. After all, most of her housemates assumed she was muggle born. Which, as far as she was aware, would have been a first-time occurrence for the den of snakes. Still, Slytherins respected power and ability alongside purity. There was no need to upset the balance she had created by laying claim to a bloodline that was dubious and openly scorned.
Furthermore, she still knew nothing about her family. Was she a descendant of Marvolo? Or perhaps the offspring of the man's brother? The book made no mentions of the family's ages. It was possible, though unlikely that she was one of the two children that Marvolo fathered. Thumbing to the first page of the book, she looked for a publishing date.
"1932. It's possible. I would have been a babe at the time, but it's possible. My father... could I have finally found my father?" She knew her mother was dead. The matrons at Wool's orphanage had told her that much. Perhaps... no, there was no sense in making any theories. She'd question Harry. If she found his answers unsatisfactory or if she thought he was lying, she'd use force to get what she wanted.
As Emily left the library, she took note of the time. It was early, still a couple hours from sunrise. The dreamless sleep potion she'd taken had not been brewed recently. It should have kept her asleep for longer. More than likely, it had not been a full dose either. She found the magic of the room Harry left her in fascinating. The potion had not come from nothingness, the room had to have gotten ahold of it somehow. One of the fundamental laws involving magical conjuration was that you could not conjure complex things. A fully brewed potion was far beyond the abilities of even the greatest conjurer.
Stifling a yawn, Emily decided that she would not be staying at Hogwarts for the rest of the year. Even if Harry somehow managed to hide the death of Myrtle Warren, there was too much Emily needed to do. She had completed her OWLs a week previously and the school year barely had a month left. There was nothing left that she needed here for her fifth year. She'd convince Harry that they'd have to leave. She would find the man who was her father. She would find out why she'd been abandoned. And if the reasons were not to her liking... well, she'd spent so much of her life thinking her father to be dead already, it wouldn't hurt to make that thought into reality.
As she approached the room Harry had left her in, she was glad to see the door still remained. She had no idea how Harry summoned the room. She needed a change of clothes. She was going to sneak out of the castle, and she had no idea what kind of opposition she might face in the near future. As a ward of the muggle state, the DMLE would be eager to track her down and send her back to the orphanage. Hogwarts robes would not help her in any capacity. Magical wear in general wouldn't be an aid to her. She'd have to go full incognito mode in muggle wear. With a slight groan, Emily knew she'd be wearing a dress for at least a while. No one who knew her would expect to see her in one of those. Deciding to transfigure her robes, Emily opened the door, only to be surprised to find that instead of the mostly empty room that had greeted her last time, she found racks of clothes on the right side of the room.
Emily detested dresses. She preferred skirts, and when she could get away with it, trousers. An aspect of the muggle world that Emily hated was the insistence of women's formal wear. After the age of seven, Emily made it very clear that she'd not wear a dress ever again. It was the first, and last, time she'd ever been whipped. As soon as the leather strap made contact with her legs for a third time, the matron who had been disciplining her had fallen to the ground, convulsing violently in a seizure. Of course, Emily knew that the reason the woman later had gone into cardiac arrest and almost died was entirely her own fault. It had been her first attempt at killing a person. She had failed because her conviction had been halfhearted, but no one else had ever tried to discipline Emily Riddle physically since. This benefitted others more than Emily, of course. She had far more conviction now that she was older.
As Emily began ruffling through the clothes, one at a time, she threw most of them over her shoulder and onto the bed. The assortment was terrible. But then again, they were mostly dresses, so Emily doubted she'd find something she liked. With a sigh, Emily settled on a simple white sundress. It was plain and was unlikely to draw much attention. Stripping out of her clothes, Emily paused to scourgify her undergarments. The charm would cause undue harm to the delicate fabric, but if she was to be moving through the countryside with a man she barely knew, Emily had no idea when she'd get a chance to clean them again. And she knew from experience how bad of an idea it was to cast the charm while wearing them. The chaffing would make her walk funny for a week.
Just thinking of her new family member gave her pause. Harry Gaunt. Just who was he? He was cute, and with the little knowledge she had about her family... there was a good shot he was her brother. That was already very uncomfortable territory, but considering the Gaunt family's history, she could only assume the incestuous attraction was par for the course. There was no doubt that the man was kind, though. He didn't question her on what she'd done that resulted in the death of a student. He just wanted to take care of her. He'd been the second person to ever do so in her entire life, and not expect something in return. The first... was someone Emily didn't want to think about right now. Hopefully that was a person that Harry would never meet. Harry didn't seem the type to appreciate what Emily considered enjoyment.
With a sigh, Emily began to put her bra back on, only to stop all motion at the sound of the door opening. She immediately realized that her front was facing the door and she slowly lifted her eyes to look into the surprised face of Harry Gaunt. He looked to be as frozen as she was. To his credit, his eyes were locked onto hers, and not roving all over her body. This did not help her mood, and she angrily hissed a single word to him.
"Out!" She watched as his face paled and his eyes snapped closed. Quickly, he withdrew and slammed the door shut. Emily huffed in annoyance. "Of course, the only cute guy I've ever met just had to see me completely naked." Muttering a few choice curses, Emily donned on her chosen dress quickly and left the room.
