It must be his lucky day.
He knew that he liked Halloween for a reason.
Hermione sat frozen on the floor while he stroked her hair.
The messy messy remains of the troll started to cool.
Hmmmm. That had been a bit… sloppy. He would do better next time.
He hadn't expected to find Hermione here. Gaining her allegiance had just been an added bonus for his original objective.
Setting up an adequate explanation for Ron Weasley's most unfortunate demise.
He levitated the body into the room. He had made sure to put the skin back on. Now just a bit of pulverizing, with, say, a big club…
Oh, there's one right there. So convenient.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
Hmmm. He would have to explain manners to Hermione at some point.
"Mr Weasley here was quite rude to you earlier. I do hope that it helps you to know that he apologized profusely many, manytimes before his soul was allowed to slip slip away…"
The expression on her face was beautiful. Truly.
"You… you…"
"Oh yes. Me."
He grasped the emerald chain around her soul and pulled her to her feet, pushing her dirty, tangled hair out of her face.
"I'm so very excited that you've decided to join me on this lovely adventure through the Looking Glass, Hermione Granger. With your precocious mind and my empty soul, we will have so much fun."
Tears ran down her cheeks. Exquisite. Drip drip drip…
Ah yes. Framing the troll for the weasel's melody.
Smash smash smash with the club.
Blood showering Hermione's pretty, haunted face.
Harry hummed while he worked.
"Alright, that should do it!" He exclaimed.
He looked around the bathroom.
What next. What next.
The troll. He needed an explanation for the troll's current state.
He could just vanish the remains. But Dumbledore would keep looking.
What if this was Dumbledore's fault?
That's an idea.
You're so good at this, Harry.
There was one other Thing in the castle that could make a troll sing such a sweet symphony.
A Thing with three heads and lots and lots of teeth.
Harry levitated the troll's ruined corpse and gestured to his newest acquisition.
"Come along, Hermione, we still have work to do. They'll ask questions if they find us here with the troll."
She nodded idly; her eyes were still fixed on the weasel's corpse.
Harry thought she would be happier. Ron had made her cry, after all.
Whatever. Onwards and forwards.
They wandered the castle, the carcass wobbling along behind them.
Third floor. Third flooooooor.
There it is!
"Severus! What are you doing here? And what happened to your leg?"
Snape's expression went through several very entertaining backflips as he took in Harry, Hermione, and the troll.
"Harry… I mean… I… Miss Granger, what do you think you're doing here? All students were instructed-"
Harry was in a hurry. He raised his hands and tugged on both of their emerald chains, making them both stumble slightly as the green light lit up the corridor.
"... Ah. I see. Well then. What do you require, my Lord?"
"I already asked, pet. What are you doing here?"
Hermione's expression was hilarious.
"Quirrell was trying to steal the stone. I stopped him, but got bitten by the dog."
"Ah. Well done. We will have the stone soon, don't worry. But for now, the Cerberus is useful. Poor Ronald was unfortunately killed by the troll in a bathroom before the troll went wandering over to the third floor to distract the dog while Quirrell stole the stone. Luckily, you were there in time to stop them, even if you got bitten and couldn't save poor sweet Ronald. The troll, unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your view, was killed by the dog. Understood?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Good boy. Take the corpse to the dog and let it have a few bites before you alert Dumbledore. Have a lovely night, Severus. Don't forget to smile."
Snape pulled his mouth in a rather sad attempt at a smile as he walked away.
Hermione's ever-growing look of horror was wonderful.
…
Harry pondered the meaning of life in his usual chair in their alcove, far from any of the fires.
Daphne lounged on the floor beside him and practiced flipping a knife end over end to try and catch it by the handle every time. She had only stabbed herself twice.
Hermione looked decidedly nervous as she looked out of the alcove at the rest of the Slytherin common room.
Draco looked like someone had both kicked his favorite puppy and shoved a rotting skunk under his nose. It was hilarious.
"My Lord…"
"Hmmmm?"
"Why is… she… here?"
"She is also mine, Little Dragon. Do you doubt my taste?"
Draco paled further, somehow. "No, of course not… it's just…"
"You saw the weasel's blood as it pooled and ran across our floor… do you think it would look any different than anyone else's, if I peeled them?"
"Well… no… but…"
"Power, Draco. That's what matters. There is indeed power in Blood, in wealth and prestige and influence, but there is also power in power,and many other things. Hermione has many other kinds of power, even if she may not have the status of your vaunted family name."
Hermione looked very unsure of what to think of the…praise?
"Yes, my Lord." Draco said and returned to his book on blood rituals.
Hermione still looked confused. "Why hasn't anyone noticed that I'm here?"
Harry's eyes blinked. "No enterprise is more likely to succeed than one concealed from the enemy until it is ripe for execution. I don't want to cause a ruckus by being forced to kill half of Slytherin. It may end… poorly. Probably for everyone else. But dear old Albus might actually manage to kill me somewhere along the line, so better to wait for now."
Hermione's conflicted expressions were still so much fun.
"So, they only see what they want to see?" Daphne asked from the floor as she snatched the knife out of the air again.
"Exactly."
Harry reached down and ran his fingers through her lovely blonde hair. Daphne missed her next throw and the knife stabbed deeply into her leg.
Harry giggled and healed her. Again.
…
Draco tried not to stumble over his feet as they walked through the Chamber of Secrets.
The actual Chamber of Secrets. That his Lord apparently had access to.
Also, Harry was Parselmouth.
Draco had never been happier with his life choices.
He was actually in the Founder's chamber, Slytherin himself…
That was a very large Basilisk.
"Harry… the…um… Basilisk won't eat us, or open its eyes, right?"
"Only if I ask it to."
"That's… comforting."
In the center of the floor, an extremely complex ritual circle was drawn in blood.
In the center was a man that Draco had never seen before. He was rotund, but short, with wispy hair and small, watery eyes.
He was also tied down and gagged, looking up at them with terror.
"Everyone, meet Peter Pettigrew, also known as Wormtail. He was ever so helpfully pretending to be a rat and living with the weasel. I found him when I snatched good ol' Ronny for our little chat about the correct way to treat a lady."
Hermione had her eyes closed and appeared to be trying to keep her breathing even. Draco wondered if it was the Basilisk, the Chamber, the blood ritual, the captive, or the talk of Ron that was overwhelming her. Maybe all of them?
"Now, Wormtail here has done us a favor by already faking his own death, which means that his actual death is so very simple compared to… others."
Daphne giggled.
"And! Since we get to choose the time and place, I thought that he would make a lovely sacrifice for this neat little ritual I cooked up!"
Even Hermione looked interested now.
"So, I stumbled across this-"
Harry pulled out a weird looking crown that radiated dark magic.
"-which is a fragment of Tom's soul. Who Tom is, isn't important right now. But he apparently left fragments of his soul lying around. And it turns out the Horcruxes can be utilized to…empower… empty Things like me. Not that there are any other things like me."
Some days, Draco wondered exactly what his Lord actually was, beneath the human facade.
"And! I can share it with my lovely friends. It's great! This ritual will let you all borrow my eyes, and even call me to you if needed. You know how I worry about you."
Draco thought he was lying about that last part, but he couldn't be sure. Harry was a very good liar.
"Now, everyone stand on the cardinal points around the circle, and we can get started."
…
Harry could feel the latent potential magic in the complex ritual circle.
It was exquisite. It hungered for blood, always more blood.
The Horcrux strained at the chains with which it was bound for this process.
Naughty naughty, Tom.
Harry drew an ornate ritual knife. Not strictly necessary; a kitchen knife would have been fine, but gravitas and drama were important on occasion.
His beautiful toys stared at him with fascination. He was so excited to share his eyes with them.
And excited to get a few more for himself in the process.
He stepped onto the circle and let his magic flow into the prepared channels of blood and pain.
The ritual runes ignited with infernal red light and the chamber around them darkened until all he could see was the circle, his favorite pets at each of the vertices, the struggling man in the center, a plain wooden cup beside him, and the Diadem.
Time for the symphony to begin.
Magic danced and pulsed around them.
He could feel his emerald chains connecting them all to him, and by extension to each other.
Beautiful.
He lifted the wooden cup and the knife.
"By my Blood and my Soul, we are bonded. By my Will and my Pain, I am Lord!" He intoned, his voice echoing eerily in the dense atmosphere.
He cut his wrist over the chalice.
Drip drip drip.
Once the cup was full, he healed his wrist. It wouldn't do to spill, and ruin the carefully laid runes.
He handed the cup to Draco, on his right.
"You wanted the Dark and the Blood of true Magic, Draco Malfoy. I have delivered, as promised. Drink, and be empowered. Drink, and gain eyes."
Malfoy only looked squeamish for a moment before his determination took over. He raised the cup to his lips and drank, ruby ichor dripping down his chin.
Perfection.
He stopped and smiled a bit sheepishly, his teeth stained red.
He handed the cup to Hermione, across the circle from Harry himself.
"You promised me anything, Hermione Granger. And I want everything. But do not despair. You will gain insight; you will gain knowledge that is understood by no one else. You will be loved, and valued, in my chains."
She fell into his gaze.
"Drink, and gain eyes."
She shuddered as she tasted his blood.
She wiped her mouth and handed the cup to Daphne.
Daphne just smiled wickedly at him.
"I promised you power, Daphne Greengrass. I promised you control, and my help in freeing you from your shackles. I promised you radiance, and rapture, within my chains. I now deliver. Drink, and be enhanced. Drink, and be enlightened. Drink, and gain eyes."
She chugged the rest of the chalice without hesitation.
She was such a treat.
Harry raised the Diadem and let go, even as its eyes struggled mightily against his will.
It hung in the middle of the circle, over Pettigrew's struggling meat.
"By my Blood and Soul, I call this fragment back to me. By Death and Anguish, I claim it as my own."
Harry knelt and slashed the ritual knife across Pettigrew's neck, his life blood flooding over the circle. The runes blazed with an eldritch blue light in the red and black void.
"As Lord of the Empty Vessel, I claim my rightful Eyes!" Harry screamed into the night.
Such beautiful music!
Harry raised his hands towards the Diadem and felt the soul within screaming. He laughed joyously as he felt its power being drained, its mind and soul drowning in the power of the ritual until….
He opened his eyes.
His eyes may have been infinite before, but two infinities were still bigger than one.
His perfect toys joined him in his mad cackling as the magic of the ritual took hold, bonding them in agonous rapture as all of their eyes were forced open, the others for the very first time.
He was the Eyes, and they were Him.
And it was glorious.
…