"Severus, we need to chat."
Snape looked around in confusion. He was sitting in a plush, burgundy armchair in front of a merrily crackling fire.
Which was strange, since he was certain that he had been standing in front of his second-year potions class just a moment ago.
In a matching chair to his right sat Harry Potter. Red eyes blinked at him from the empty darkness outside the firelight.
Ah. That would explain the unexpected turn of events. His Lord's ability to bypass Occlumency shields and drag him into living dreams was as unsettling as ever.
However, Snape had dealt with the previous Dark Lord's proclivities for many years. He could handle some mind games.
"Of course, my Lord. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I need to see see see, pet. What is the Bumbleman doing, with the Chamber exposed?"
Severus paused for a moment to consider his words. Trying to reach between the lines of his last conversation with Albus.
"The headmaster is… less concerned than he should be in some ways, but more in others. We know that he suspects that you contain a piece of the Dark Lord's soul, and I believe that he at least entertains the possibility that you are a Parselmouth and potentially involved with the Chamber."
Harry hummed and steepled his fingers in a way that seemed much more… composed… than Severus knew his broken mind to be.
He couldn't even begin to guess how the inner mechanisms of his Lord's mind functioned. Every new aspect of Harry's personality matrix that he discovered seemed just as real, or fake, as the last, facades within dreams within facades.
He had already decided that he didn't want to know. He would do his best to protect Harry, because he was bound to, but he could not try to parse the goals of the demon child.
"Hmmmmmm. I suppose that's a fair assumption." Harry leaned back and stared at the imaginary ceiling. "Irritating, but fair. I am hoping that this supposed Heir will be causing a few… terribly tragic… events this year. How do you think that old Al will respond?"
Snape tried not to think about whatever the boy and his ever-growing circle of murderous children were planning.
"Albus often feels like he has more control than he actually does, a byproduct of 12 years of relative comfort without an enemy to seriously challenge him. He will believe that he can handle the Chamber issue, at least for now. It will depend on whether any of the… tragic… events happen to certain students, whose parents cannot be dissuaded or are influential at the ministry. He may also become unpredictable if too many children are killed outright."
Harry hummed again before his face went completely blank for a moment. Severus started to get concerned after a few seconds, until the child smiled.
Then he became very concerned.
"Fifty years ago, Albus didn't do anything until a child was killed. So many children frozen, petrified, left lying stiff and still… yet they didn't do anything…"
Snape didn't know where his Lord was going with this line of thought.
"You've been most helpful, Severus. Here, have a biscuit."
A tray of biscuits appeared on the table beside him.
The eyes stared at him from the dark.
He ate a cookie.
And was suddenly standing in front of his classroom again, in the middle of explaining the steps of a swelling solution. He decidedly did not look at the smirking boy who now only had one of Lily's eyes.
…
Ginny couldn't help but watch, the following days. It was impossible not to, now that Luna had mentioned it.
Harry Potter had one silver eye.
He wore a sharp and pristine muggle suit.
He gave of an unmistakable air of danger and barely constrained violence.
How hadn't she noticed before?
His friends, his followers, orbited him like beautiful planets around a dark star.
She didn't know what to think.
She had long dreamed of meeting Harry Potter. In her more embarrassing moments, she fantasized about him whisking her away from her doldrum life of chores and drudgery in the crowded and cluttered house with too many people, too many trinkets, and too little money.
It didn't necessarily have to be him, specifically, but the tales of the Boy-Who-Lived made him a convenient target for her escapism.
But seeing him now…
She knew that she shouldn't. That Luna was crazy, and that Harry must be similar if they traded eyes, like other children made friendship bracelets…
But he was enticing. Refined and gorgeous, he radiated a dark and unfathomable power as he walked with the other second-years, both within and above them all.
She didn't think that she would ever have the courage to talk to him though, even to ask what happened to Tom.
…
"Ginevra… may I have a moment of your time, please?"
The high, smooth voice cut through her daydreaming like a knife.
Ginny jumped sharply, the book on her lap falling to the floor as she spun to stare at the boy next to her.
Harry was here.
In the Gryffindor common room.
Sitting cross-legged on the couch next to her like it was the most normal thing in the world.
What.
He was looking at her, with those pretty mismatched eyes. He was waiting for her to respond. Oh no.
"I… Harry, um… I… oh, can I call you… um," Ginny felt her face heat up with a brilliant blush as she tried to find the right words.
He was here. Talking to her.
Her brain wasn't feeling cooperative right now. Between the excitement and the abject terror and the many other feelings all knotted together in a tangled mess, she was not exactly coherent.
Harry just smiled. "Yes, of course you can call me Harry. Everyone gets so caught up in the formalities in Slytherin, it's a bit silly. Can I call you Ginny?"
Her mouth wasn't working right now, so she just nodded.
"Lovely. Now I am here for a number of reasons, but first I just wanted to check on you. Are you alright, after your brief possession?"
Learning that Tom had been trying to use her to consume her soul and return to life has been jarring, but it was hard to miss Tom right now. While she was talking to Harry, at least.
Her mouth still wasn't working. She nodded again.
"I'm glad to hear that. For what it's worth, I'm… sorry, for taking Tom away from you. It was necessary, but I know how intoxicating his power can be."
Ginny didn't know what to make of that. She looked up at him and finally managed to meet his mismatched eyes.
It was so easy, to fall into those eyes. Emerald depths and silver skies. She forgot that she was planning to ask him how he knew about Tom, planning to ask him how he knew about Luna, planning… planning…
He reached out and took her hand.
"I can see all of your questions, Ginny. All of the things you wish could be, but don't trust yourself enough to ask for."
Her head spun. She couldn't even focus on the feeling of his skin on hers, as she stared into his eyes.
"To answer at least one of them, Tom and I share more similarities than you would expect."
Crimson red eyes opened in the walls and the fire.
Eyes that she had seen before, in her dreams.
"I am very much like the diary, in many ways."
She was both horrified and entranced by the gaze of the infinite eyes.
"Tom is part of me, Ginny. But I am also so much more."
She suddenly realized that they stood alone in the dark, with the infinite ruby eyes watching them from the endless night.
His hand reached out and caressed her jawline and she couldn't help but tremble under his touch.
His skin was soft, against hers.
She finally closed her eyes and leaned her head back, trying to clear her thoughts as her mind whirled and she wanted nothing more than to fall into his eyes again again again…
"Come and find me, when you are ready to ask more questions, Ginny Weasley. You are precious, and most welcome. Come with me, and you will be free."
Ginny gasped and almost fell off of the couch when the world returned to normal. She looked around frantically, but she was alone on the couch in the firelight in the Gryffindor common room.
It was real, it had to be real…
Right?
She reached up to let her fingers brush involuntarily and idly over her face.
Her skin still tingled and burned from his touch.
She knew it had been real, even if it had all been in her head. Just like Tom had been real.
She shuddered again and closed her eyes. She shouldn't go to him. She should stay away from both him and Luna and never tell anyone about their eyes and their music, but she just…
She didn't think that she could.
Didn't think that she wanted to.
Stay away.
…
"I have another surprise for you."
Harry couldn't, didn't want to, resist the wide smile that split his face as he gave his Alice a piggyback ride through the castle.
She giggled in his ear. Lovely lovely Luna.
"You always have the best surprises, my Mad Hatter. What do you have in store for us this time?"
"Well, it wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you, now would it?" Harry laughed with her.
She sunk her teeth into the back of his neck just hard enough to hurt.
He shivered. It was delicious.
"Then don't keep me waiting, Harry Potter." He could hear the smile in her voice.
"Why do you think we're going up so many stairs? Even if carrying you around is fun fun fun."
They stopped on the seventh floor, in front of a tapestry of dancing trolls.
"Now, we just have to walk back and forth and ask for the room of Hidden Things."
They walked walked walked while Harry thought thought thought.
He opened the door and…
Well. This was interesting. It took a lot to surprise him, but he should never underestimate his Alice.
"Alice, dear, may I ask what you were thinking about?"
"Well, you said to think about the room of Hidden Things, but that sounded boring, so I asked for a room made of chinchillas."
Harry stared at the soft, gray, undulating room in amusement.
He hadn't even thought to ask for anything else before. The eyes hadn't mentioned that bit. Of course, Alice would be the one to surprise him, instead of the other way around.
His smile widened.
"Luna, do you want to make a snow angel?"
"Why else would I ask for a room made of chinchillas?"
Obviously.
They laughed together, and made snow angels in the room of Hidden Things that was so, so much more.
It felt nice.
Everything was nice, with his Alice.
…
Harry dodged sideways as a knife embedded itself in the gray stone pillar behind him and he was forced to flip backwards over the emerald chains that sought to tangle his feet.
Daphne was getting better every day. It was glorious to behold.
He lost sight of her for a moment as he flipped and when he landed, he knew that he would have to move immediately but-
The chain attached to the knife now fixed deeply into the stone pillar whipped around and he barely got his arm up in time to block it, but he was yanked back into the stone with one arm pulled to the side and with the other…
He reached up and barely managed to catch her wrist before the enchanted dagger slid into his heart.
Her ice blue eyes pierced him as he met her triumphant gaze.
She was exquisite, his Blade.
"Very well done, Daphne. Such wonderful music. You are as deadly and beautiful as ever."
Her smile lit up the dark Chamber.
…
"Draco."
Malfoy looked up at where Harry sat in the armchair in the corner of the alcove far from the fires.
"Yes, my Lord?"
It felt like an appropriate time to use Harry's title. He didn't quite know why.
"Design me a ritual, my Dragon. I want to see how your skills are progressing. Assume that you will have a… mostly innocent… sacrifice, to utilize as you see fit."
Draco swallowed his apprehension and nodded. His Lord was testing him. Wanted to see how far he had come.
He had asked Harry to return magic to the Old Ways, and his Lord had never shied away from the dark and the blood of true magic. They reveled in it, together.
Sometimes, he could still taste his Lord's blood on his lips. Could still feel the crimson ichor slide down his throat.
And now Harry was asking him to take the lead in their dance of death, for the first time.
"Of course, my Lord. Thank you, for trusting me with this. I won't let you down."
Harry smiled at him, and Draco repressed a shiver.
"I know, little Dragon."
…