Cold Blood, Dave not Dave
They call me useless, careless, nobody ought to miss
With the thing they don't understand
They call me hopeless, heartless, there's no way out of this
When it's so far outta your hand
I confess there's a hole in my chest
From the things that I did
And the gun in my hand
I won't rest till it's all done and said
And I get what I give
I'm a pain dealer, I'm a faith healer
I'm a soul stealer, and I'm coming for you
I'm a dream breaker, I'm a truth maker
I'm a cold-blooded killer and I'm coming for you
And there's nothing you can do
I'm coming for you
They call me freedom, fallen
Don't you hear me calling
I'm the voice in the back of your head
With a whisper, I'm there, over your shoulder
Don't you wish you never let me in
I confess that the devil's my kin
I'm a brother to sin, since I don't know when
I won't rest till it's all done and said
And I get what I give
'Are you alright?' Tom asked once they were back in the Room of Requirement, and the previous two days felt like a wild fever dream.
"Not really. Are you?"
"Honestly, no." There was a finality to his tone, so Harry didn't press, torn between guilt and an increasingly irritated curiosity, almost desperate to know his every thought, emotion, and reason.
It had been dinner time when they had returned to the castle, so most of the students were in the hall. The ones they did pass as they entered were particularly enthusiastic in their whispering. It wasn't the same frightened, hushed atmosphere that Harry had become accustomed to following him around; they seemed thrilled.
The Dark Lord had left him in the defence tower without a word. Nagini had kissed Harry's cheek, still in her t-shirt and jeans, before she'd sprinted after Voldemort.
On returning to the castle, he realized that he hadn't spoken to Ginny about vanishing for the weekend. He thought about finding her, spotting her on the map in the Slytherin Common Room, but the idea brought a lump to his chest that he couldn't dislodge.
Narcissa had his new school supplies sent to his room when he returned, waiting outside his room when he opened the doors the next morning.
'Are you mad at me?' He wondered as he dragged the trunk inside.
'Why would I be angry with you?'
'I just know you're mad.'
'Not at you.' There was a rare rush of affection with Tom's thoughts that immediately had Harry grinning like a fool as he descended the defence tower stairs.
'How do you think we did?'
'You did not fold. A double-edged sword: it will frustrate him.'
'What was he asking for? It didn't seem like he just wanted me to fold; he wanted me to admit to something. Do you think he knows what we're doing? Is that something an Unspeakable can find? Secret plans? I don't-'
'I don't know.' Tom interrupted, and his heart palpitated. Not Harry's fear.
"You have some guesses, though, right?" he asked out loud, then realized he must look insane wandering through the west tower, directing questions at himself. He felt his entourage of Death Eaters' eyes on him, and he pretended he didn't know what they were looking at.
'Nothing good. Nothing solid either; I genuinely don't know what he knows.'
'You could tell me your guesses anyway, you know.'
'No.'
'Ass.'
"Not dead; just absent-minded." Eris' voice made Harry stop in his tracks and scowl at the ceiling.
He'd walked right past the necromancer, standing with Avalon.
"Where's Ginny?" He asked as he spun.
"She's got Transfiguration," Avalon said, "No glasses?"
Harry touched his face, again shocked to find them gone, "Oh, yeah. I got my eyes fixed. Is she okay? Ginny?"
Eris laughed, almost a bark, "No!"
Avalon shot him a ferocious look, her brown eyes sharp.
"What? She's not." He was walking and grinning, and Harry wanted to punch his teeth in.
He didn't think Ginny would like it.
"Walk to Care with someone else." Harry stopped, and Eris did, too, turning to face him. "You don't wanna do this right now," he said through gritted teeth.
Tom wouldn't allow him to turn his back, and the necromancer wasn't budging, standing in the way.
His four guards had their wands drawn, semi-raised, looking at each other.
"Going to run to your Dark Lord?"
In that moment, technically speaking, he knew just by the look on Eris' face that he wanted Harry to react. To do something about what he was saying, so he could report it to Ginny, and she could have yet another reason to turn away from him.
He did it anyway. Quick as a blink, he shot the curse out with both hands, yanking Eris onto his back by his feet and using the split-second advantage to straddle him, locking his arms by his sides. The curse was wrapped around his fists as he tried to cave the necromancer's face in.
He felt Avalon pulling frantically on his arm, and Tom had the awareness to shroud them in darkness when she let go, and the stunners started flying in his direction. Eris had either been unprepared or unexpecting—possibly assuming that Harry wouldn't take the bait. He'd barely reacted, something he registered on the fifth punch. He retracted the curse when it was obvious the necromancer was unconscious.
"Shit. Get Lydia. You, are you listening? Get the healer," Harry snapped at one of the Death Eaters, who danced around for a moment before he decided to do as he was told.
He didn't wait or say anything to Avalon, her wand still drawn on him as he bolted back toward the Room of Requirement.
'I'm not going to fucking class.'
'I see that,' Tom thought.
'Why didn't you stop me?'
'I wanted you to hit him.'
'He didn't fight back.'
'On purpose, Harry.'
'What? Why?'
Tom sighed and sat up, reaching for the map tucked under his pillow. 'We should talk to Ginevra. And Cassiopeia.'
The vampire was already heading toward his tower; the sun had fallen a little over thirty minutes earlier. Harry opened his doors, eyes on the map.
"Well, now, back for one day, skipping classes and kicking asses in the halls?" She said as she danced past him to sit in her usual armchair. She had a newspaper tucked under her arm and was wiggling her eyebrows independently of each other. "I can tell you're about to ask; no, I haven't seen him yet—he hid last night like a scaredy wuss boy. I thought about it, but didn't want to deal with a moody Dark Lord before breakfast. Came here first. Tell me everything."
He did, with an emphasis on his confusion. He told her about Barty, the tree, the tomb, the Djinn, the questions the Dark Lord had kept asking, and finished it by saying he had no idea what any of it meant.
"Oh, easy." She said, laughing, waving a hand. "He's just rapidly cycled through the five stages of 'Tom Riddle grief'."
"What?" Harry and Tom both said.
"Shock, denial, drama tantrum, murder, manipulate," she said, as though it were obvious, counting on her fingers. "The real question is what got him all shook up."
"…No, that's not how I- if it- Cassiopeia," Tom said, snapping his mouth shut and frowning at the table. "That is what I do."
"Duh. I know. We're onto a different subject now. The Unspeakable, you think? A prophecy or something?" She asked.
"No, they do not give prophecies. They take them. I am sure it has something to do with that night. Nagini showed us a memory of him threatening to cut Harry's Horcrux out, then put us in a permanent sleep directly afterwards."
"…The drama tantrum. Then, by Saturday, he's got you pinned to a tree. Aright, so he wants to- huh. He's conflicted, to say the least of it." She pressed the pad of her thumb into one of her fangs, then said, "Oh, and running an active smear campaign against you."
"A what?" Harry asked.
She tossed the newspaper onto his lap and grinned. "To be fair, for once, Skeeter didn't even need to make shit up to bring the drama."
The 'Chosen' One—Fallen of Free Will
EXCLUSIVE TELL-ALL INTERVIEW WITH HARRY POTTER
(Transcript pg. 8)
To say that I entered the heart of the lion's den for this interview
Would be an understatement, dear readers. Multiple threats on
My life were just the start of my time with the once exalted
Harry James Potter, once known as the Chosen One. The very room
I interviewed him in had an air of menace, and the Boy-Who-Lived
Has most assuredly become the Man-Who-Fell. Confidently and within seconds of
Sitting down, he threatened my life without reason. When I asked him about his
Previous murders, he admitted to them flippantly and without guilt.
When asked what his beloved, departed parents would think, he did not
Bat an eye I tell you, dear readers. We can wonder no longer at his whereabouts
After the Hogwarts massacre, he himself admitted to spending the
Time with the Dark Lord himself. This is hardly all, Avrom Dermot (Many of you know
all too well the Identity of the mystery man who represented Potter
In court has been a popular topic in my daily flier: For my full, unobstructed
Opinion, please subscribe) was told to be none other
Than the Dark Lord himself, representing Harry Potter in front
Of the Wizengamot Court. I must be careful with my words, make no
Mistake, loyal readers. However, I consider it my duty to say that
Potter was represented by a wanted man. The 'Chosen' One claims to
Have joined the Dark Lord's ranks willingly, without a hint of
Coercion on him, gentle readers. I witnessed a look of reverence on
His face as he happily showed his Dark Mark and spoke in Parseltongue.
Perhaps the worst of it, I am afraid to report-
Harry stopped reading and started skimming when she described the Squibbing of Hermione, Seamus, and Lavender, how painfully single and available he was (for the daring witch, only, apparently), and the beginning of a rumour mill regarding what could possibly be happening in December.
"He pretty much owns the media now, right?" He asked. "The Man Who Fell?" He scoffed.
"Yep."
"So, this would have definitely been run by him?"
"Oh, yeah. Him first." She grinned wider and wider with each question answered.
"And the Ginny thing," he said. As he did, her smile fell.
"I'm gonna pull his fucking guts out for that. Totally unnecessary. You're plenty vulnerable to him without all this faff."
"I know- hey, what?"
"Obvious. Puppy dog eying him. Whining, following about behind his heels."
"Shut up I do not."
She raised one brow, then the other. "Harry. Come on."
"Stop," Tom warned, and she narrowed her eyes.
"Alright, snake boy? What's your plan then? Because you're in up to your nipples now."
"We need to speak to Ginny. But she's not talking to me. And fucking ass-git Eris," Harry snapped. "He provoked me and then just stood there."
"I heard. He's fine. Lydia said he was milking the sympathy from his little lady love quite liberally in the hospital wing."
"I'm gonna rip his guts out," Harry said.
"I bet if you asked real sweet like, Tom'd let you." She winked, and he scoffed.
He knew Ginny was in the Great Hall with Eris and Avalon and that they'd soon be heading to Cedrum for Necromancy. He wasn't going down there. He was apparently far more raw than he thought he was, wanting nothing more than to sleep for days.
"Could you… Could you let Ginny know I want to see her? She's not- she doesn't seem to want to talk to me." The Dark Mark burned as he spoke, and he must have shown it on his face.
"Jesus Christ, are you okay?"
"Mark's burning." He stood up and squeezed his face with both hands.
She stood up, "I'll come with you; I have a few bones to stab him with."
He was immediately relieved that he wasn't going alone. He checked the map and found him in his office. The vampire had marched to the eagle statue, her arms swinging by her sides in a way that almost made Harry laugh.
The Dark Lord wasn't happy to see her, though Nagini was, grinning from the armchair she was lazing haphazardly on, a book held above her face.
"Nice holiday?" Cassiopeia asked as she swiftly took the seat at the desk Harry assumed was his.
"A veritable dream." He steepled his hands on the desk and leaned in, glaring at her.
Harry remained standing, blinking at the bookshelves behind Voldemort's head.
"You do look well rested," she said.
"There was a boat! It was called a felucca. And it was so warm in Egypt. I slept on the deck in the sun. I saw three crocodiles, and one saw me," Nagini said, and Harry fought a grin. "Ilvermorny was cold, and they were all pretending not to be miserable."
The Dark Lord laughed, then scowled at Harry like he'd done something wrong.
"Mm, I hear Ilvermorny is terribly poorly behaved this time of year," Cassiopeia said, crossing her arms.
"They are," Nagini agreed.
"I'm going to need you to stop your shit, Tom Riddle." The vampire turned to Voldemort, and Nagini looked at Harry, confused.
"Pardon?" The Dark Lord said smoothly.
"Pardon?" She mocked his tone. "The Weasley business."
"I am certain I have no idea what you are talking about," he warned.
"You're obvious as a foot up an ass, buddy, don't treat me like I'm a common twit."
His eyes were on Harry then, darker by the second. "What has he told you?"
"Told me? You still think anyone needs to tell me anything? You're being awfully rude this evening. And Egypt? So, Har? You went to see Har-im-hotep and you didn't invite me?"
"…He will be here in December."
"Yes, but you were there yesterday and didn't say a word."
"You would have been ridiculous. It was insufferable enough as it was."
"Oh? Me? Ridiculous?" She clutched her chest in offence.
"You wanted to come on a boat ride in the Egyptian sun, did you, Cassiopeia?"
"Like that was the only option." She scoffed.
"Unfortunately, it was. Can you reach your point?"
"Wow. Nagini, you hear this? Wow. My point is, leave the Weasley out of whatever you're doing. You're being a short-sighted limpet. And you're undoing all my work." She stood up and went for the door, shaking her head.
"…Wait, your work? What work?" Harry asked, but she ignored him and shut the room with more force than necessary.
Tom had already cleared their head of all telling thoughts, and the Dark Lord predictably invaded his head through his eyes after he'd ordered him to sit.
"What have you told her?" Voldemort demanded again when he found nothing.
"Told her about what?" He asked, both hands on the desk.
He touched Harry's hand nails first, digging them into his skin. "Percy Weasley approached Yaxley." The Dark Lord said it conversationally, but by then, Harry was decent enough at picking up the smell of bait.
"Yeah?" The bliss radiated like it always did, turning Tom into a lazy house cat in his head, fighting to stay aware.
"He might just do anything for his position at the Ministry."
"Yeah, reckon you're right."
"Betray his morals, his loved ones…"
"I don't think he's got a lot of morals? I mean, he's a hard worker, I guess. I've heard."
"He has a number of loved ones."
"I don't really think he cares, to be honest." Harry had propped his chin on his free hand, blinking like a doe at the Dark Lord.
"…Is he this stupid?" He seemed baffled and turned to look at Nagini, who wasn't paying them any attention, humming into the pages of her book.
"Who?" Harry asked. "Percy?"
Voldemort's lips and eyebrows were wiggling until he snorted a laugh. "…No. You."
"Oh, no, I'm not stupid. I know you're threatening the Weasleys. And trying to drive Ginny away. And everyone else, you hope, with Skeeter's bullshit. You're being a bit clumsy."
The Dark Lord winced and shook his head fractionally.
"Stop threatening the Weasleys I'm trying to read." Nagini hissed.
'You just made him feel like an idiot.' Tom thought.
'Is that bad?'
'Look at his face. He hated it. I fucking loved it. Probably not good though, no.' He was grinning savagely with Harry's face while the Dark Lord threatened murder with his eyes.
"Is that so?" he dug his nails deeper, "What do you think I should do with Percy Weasley?"
'Answer as though you have no emotional stake in it.' Tom thought.
'What?'
'Logically.'
"Uh, I think you're right about him doing anything to get his job back? But if you want to use him to infiltrate the Order, it probably won't work. His family knows he came here to see Ginny, that he was the only one who was allowed to. He's never been really close with them or interested in helping the Order. I think they'd see right through him." Harry noticed that the Dark Lord's eyes had flicked to his lips and stayed there, freezing the rest of his speech in his throat.
"…And?"
"And- and if that's what you wanted him for, you should probably let some time pass. A Dark Mark is also a dead giveaway, but honestly, at this point, I don't care what Percy does. I don't care about the Order."
"Why is that?" He was close, whispering in Parseltongue.
"Because… They were never what I thought they were. Too much has happened-"
Tom stopped him from leaning in, jerking him back. 'Careful.'
"Skeeter's a- can we not do that again? A ceasefire on the Skeeter thing?" He asked.
"…No ceasefires."
"No ceasefires?" Harry whined.
The Dark Lord was smiling, genuine and blinding, in Harry's opinion.
"How can you have a face like that? It doesn't make any sense." He reached out to touch said face, his hand slapped away by Voldemort, caught too slow by Tom.
"You have been thoroughly demented," the Dark Lord snapped.
"You're demented." He grinned, "And so hot."
'Harry.' Tom thought.
'Don't lie, lie, say this, don't say that.'
'…Harry.'
'I know.' He was irritated despite the effects of physical contact.
Voldemort's eyes trailed from Harry's lips to his scar. He frowned at it, lost in thought, and ignored his comment: "…You skipped your classes today. You will not do it again."
"But Eris—"
"A thrilling excuse, I am sure. Not—again. Understood?"
Harry grinned, his eyes hooded. "Sure."