(AN & TW: Sorry about the delay, I was rereading and got up to the part where the author hadn't written any more. (Sake). You're gonna need a translator open for this one. Drug use, sexual scene.)
CVNT, Sophie Hunter
My clitoris is a pill, my clitoris is a labor you cannot unskill
My clitoris is a nuclear button
I press it at will, I go in for the kill
My clitoris is a bill, my clitoris pussy pops it on Capitol Hill
My clitoris is a villain
I'm willing to bet, I'm the reason you come to an end
(Chilling)
Way that I'm different
My clitoris is a bit of an enigma
Children story time, get on the rug
Now repeat after me, "I'm a C-U-N-T"
That's a cunt (cunt, cunt, cunt)
Double take
I'm giving 'em stunt (stunt, stunt, stunt)
Pipe down, pipes down
There are ladies at lunch (lunch, lunch, lunch)
And the names cocaine, way I make a bitch run
Yeah, run when you see me, I run up my funds through the ceiling
Now scream it, I'm giving 'em cunt
"Great! Effortless. Let's go." Cassiopeia dragged Harry toward the doors, Nagini, Har, and his students following behind.
"Yasmeen, Aaliyah. You're with me. The rest of you, see to our accommodation. Cassiopeia, you almost had me believing this would be simple," Har-im-hotep said, keeping pace with the vampire while the rest of his students fell behind. His golden skin glittered in the firelight.
Lydia had joined them once they were through the doors and shot Harry a look that he shrugged off, far too distracted to feel bad about forcing the entirety of Hogwarts inside with the curse.
It seemed as though the Death Eaters had picked up on the overall seething attitude of their Lord and dispersed the students at some point after that.
"What do you mean? I did no such thing. I said they're easy to manipulate, not that any of this would be simple."
"What are you talking about," Tom demanded.
"Oh, hello, gracing me, are you?"
Harry thought it was uncanny how she could immediately detect the difference between them.
"You asked for my help, and it so happens that you've got quite the rallying force on your side." She continued.
"On my side for what," Tom said.
"Come on. Come on. Be serious." She led them into the dungeons, and Harry almost wanted to run the other way.
"Did you tell him?" Tom snapped, "Have you involved him?"
"A conversation for under wards. You knew he knew something was going on."
"…What have you told him?"
"She told me nothing I do not already know," Har said, not quietly.
It silenced Tom, words bubbling and aborted in his mouth until he stood in a room in the depths of the dungeons that had to be Cassiopeia's. Dark red curtains framed every wall, a round wooden table dressed like they'd convened for afternoon tea, teapots, cups and saucers, cakes and sandwiches. A pitcher of blood alongside stemmed glasses.
Vanya sat at the table, muzzled and chained to a central point on the floor, her arms crossed, sullen.
"…This is my baby. Vanya. Vanya this is Har-im-hotep. You can call him Har. Can you say Har? Har? She said words to me before I turned her." Cassiopeia told Har, while she shoved Harry into a seat. He had to assume the room was pre-warded. "She's still young. Turned her at Skulmadras."
"What the fuck is going on." Tom snapped. Harry had to catch his fist, about to slam it on the table.
"We're just having a chat." Cassiopeia sat down, and everyone but Har followed suit.
The Djinn examined Vanya instead, close to the fledgling's tan face, and touched a hand to her dark blonde head. "Hello, Vanya."
Cassiopeia's spawn didn't seem to know how to take him, wasn't registering him as prey. Instead, she frowned at him while he sat beside her, his two students beside him as though they'd predicted where he'd sit.
"I understand you've been having some difficulties," Har said, looking at Harry—though he still wasn't sure what the hell they were talking about.
He knew what it seemed like they were talking about, but that was insane. Worse than embarrassing.
"…What?" He said, then Tom said, "Cassiopeia."
She and Lydia were intensely focused on dispensing tea, and the vampire pretended not to hear him.
Nagini was eating a cucumber sandwich and shrugged when he looked at her.
"What is this. Now." Tom said, and the Djinn laughed.
"Quick to anger. I'm working with stunted knowledge; no one has been particularly forthcoming. What I do have are seers not disinclined to snorting a line of Devil's Vapor and following it up with opium."
"…Excuse me, did you say snort it? It's not advisable ever, but… Snorting… It… Jesus Christ." While Lydia spoke, Yasmeen took a small gold container from her pocket, formed a line of dark grey powder on the tabletop with the lid, and snorted it.
She clicked her fingers at Har, hands rolling at the wrist of their own accord. He passed her a pipe, and by some miracle, she got it to her mouth and lit it with a flame from her fingertips. The smoke she exhaled couldn't have been the smoke she inhaled, far too dense a cloud.
"From their visions, I've learned enough." Har was watching the cloud, though Yasmeen wasn't, staring unblinkingly at Harry while her nose dripped blood onto the wood.
Lydia was looking at Cassiopeia with alarm, and the vampire shrugged.
"There's a healer here?" She said when the healer in question didn't stop staring at her.
"So, we're not doing anything about this seventeen? Is she seventeen? Year old snorting Devil's Vapor? That she's just got in her pocket?"
"Lydia. My sweet angel love. Babe. Honey. You're darling. I really honestly find it charming. I don't care about the teen doing drugs. If a toddler were in here doing drugs… I'd be like, wow, look at that, cognizant enough to want a bump? …If someone handed me their fresh newborn baby, I would treat it like a juice box."
The girl whose name he'd already forgotten, the one he decided in that instant to call 'Not Yasmeen', snorted into her hand.
"Just because you're saying cute words," Lydia blushed, dispensing full teacups on saucers to everyone who could drink.
"Yeah, but do you like them?" Cassiopeia poured her drink, blood, in a stemmed glass.
Vanya whined, and the vampire sighed.
"If I had a baby, would you eat it?" Lydia asked.
"Ew, why would you do that? Okay, yeesh, of course not. I'd ask first."
Harry sipped his tea with his eyebrows raised. The visions in the cloud above their heads were nonsense to him; the Djinn was more focused on the flashing dark images than anyone else. Cassiopeia and Lydia were a mildly amusing distraction, but all he wanted was to know what exactly the Djinn knew, and why it was important enough to show up in November, risking everything he'd worked for… He took another sip of tea, and Tom narrowed his eyes.
"…This is really good tea? Did you make this? Lydia?" Harry asked as Yasmeen slammed her head into the table, making Not Yasmeen snigger into her hand again.
The Djinn checked her pulse and shrugged. Harry sniffed the cup. Spearmint, cedar, and something else… Tom put the cup down, eyes on Har, then on Cassiopeia.
"Is there alcohol in this?" Harry asked, the room collectively staring at him, except Yasmeen, unconscious—her vision cloud dispersed.
Lydia whispered in Cassiopeia's ear.
"What? What is it?" Harry asked.
"What I need are the pieces I'm missing," Har said, resting his chin on his hands, dark eyebrows near his white turban.
"…What pieces are you missing?" Tom asked, still looking at the vampire. Then he was talking in French, "Je suis très sérieux, Cassiopeia, il ne peut pas savoir."
"I noticed immediately the similarities between you and Voldemort," he grinned when he said the name, "And the visions are very distinctly pointing to four. Four as in—I believe—four key players. And I think to myself, how can this be?"
Harry didn't say anything, too busy frowning at the vampire while she frowned back.
"Il ne sait pas? Comment peut-il ne pas savoir?" Cassiopeia asked, and Tom clenched his fists so tight his nails cut in, letting go when Harry noticed.
"Il se l'est caché. On ne peut pas lui dire. Tout est caché là. Sans cela, nous avons perdu," Tom said.
"And I see it now. See that you are somehow two," Har said, and Tom nearly snapped his neck with the force when he turned to look at him.
"I need to know why you're here," he jabbed the table, anger bubbling up again, making Harry flinch.
"Vous auriez dû dire?" Cassiopeia said, and she seemed halfway to standing.
'What's going on? Why are you being weird? Stop talking in French?" Harry said, then thought, 'What are you doing? What happened?'
"Voici pourquoi. C'est pour ça que je ne t'ai rien dit, Christ." Tom stood up, a strangled, nearly insane laugh popping out of his too-tight throat.
"What I know is this, Tom Riddle," Har said, freezing them in their inexplicable escape, "You fail here, and you take us all down with you. I am fond of being alive. I am fond of the life I've built, so I have presented myself as a tool."
"…I didn't ask," Tom seemed on the verge of a panic attack, and Harry was struggling to find the breaking point.
"And yet I offer. I insist, as a matter of fact. You're fortunate I didn't rain fire on my arrival. I am feeling that spirited."
"You're here because of the prophecy?" Nagini asked.
Har leaned across the table and nodded.
The Dark Lord's familiar chewed her tongue. "How bad is it? What have your seers seen?"
"Honestly, dear, seers around the world are walking on their tiptoes at this point. Uagadou remains tight-lipped, unusual, I thought," Har said. "And irritating. Others still spread misinformation for amusement or gain, so little can be trusted. What we have seen is unsavoury."
"And yet you won't say it. Qui a eu l'idée du philtre d'amour?" Tom was glaring at the vampire.
"Cunt." Vanya said.
"Uh…" Cassiopeia finally stood up, hands raised, "I'm helping. Well done, Vanya." She clapped at her spawn, and Harry got the impression Tom wanted to kill her.
'What did she do?' He wondered, met with silence.
"Comment aurais-je pu le savoir?" She said, arms returned to the air in a move Harry realised she used on the Dark Lord often.
"Vous l'avez drogué. Que pensiez-vous qu'il se passerait?" Tom was rounding the table like he might actually fight her, while Harry frowned in cluelessness.
"Certainement pas rien!?" She laughed but she seemed more shocked than amused.
"He talks about it. In his sleep," Nagini said, Parseltongue distracting Tom and Harry both.
"The prophecy from Uagadou. He talks about it a lot. And I can usually tell what's… What's just his thoughts and what's not." She was squirming in her seat, and Tom couldn't resist.
"What has he said?"
"He would be so angry. With me."
Harry didn't roll his eyes, though it had been close.
"I think the stakes are higher than that now," Tom said, returning to his chair and shooting the vampire a look that said he wasn't done.
"I know parts. I don't know which way they go."
"Doesn't matter," Tom leaned on the table then sat back, the thoughts and feelings that spilled over were borderline manic.
"…Four pieces whole or black is the forest and reaching is the horror's scream; all will suffer dawn. …United or shadow devours the Earth, fire ever-burning in the night." She took a shuddering breath, "There is more to it; that's what I've been able to put together. 'Lest we be torn asunder?' …He says that a lot, but there's no context."
"…Four pieces whole?" Harry repeated.
"Man, I really wish I'd successfully convinced Tom to teach me Parseltongue; imagine knowing what they're hissing about," Cassiopeia said.
"Imagine," Har-im-hotep said, placing a small glowing crystal fish on the table.
All over again, Tom was standing, hyperventilating. "Get out. Get out of my fucking castle." His tone was remarkably steady, not yelling, though Harry knew he wanted to, gripping the back of his seat with white knuckles.
"…No." Har said, crossing his arms, "I won't do that. Instead, I will stress to you the gravity of where we… Sit right now. You and your zany quest for immortality have landed us all in boiling shit. If you look past your carefully curated reality, Tom, you'll find the world is about to panic. Much like yourself."
Nagini was coming to terms with the fact that she'd been eavesdropped on, white as she deconstructed a sandwich, a small pair of frown lines getting deeper between her eyebrows.
Yasmeen screamed, flailed from unconsciousness into a howling mess on the floor in an instant. The blood—her nose still bleeding—and the screaming was too much for Vanya, and she flopped gracelessly to the floor with the seer, her muzzle preventing her attempted bites. The vampire spawn was levitated free by Cassiopeia before she ripped any limbs off.
Again, Not Yasmeen was delighted, giggling into her palms.
'What the hell is going on?' Harry wondered; he felt like he'd thought it a thousand times.
"I do not want you here. Your presence has very nearly ruined everything," Tom said.
Lydia was on the floor with Yasmeen, shouting for Cassiopeia to get her potions, but the vampire stayed in her seat, open-mouthed at Harry. Har was loading a pipe with opium as though he hadn't reaped any disaster.
"Now that I am informed, there will be no repeat fumbling." The Djinn watched the vampire as he spoke.
"Okay, I'm so fucking done here? Thanks for this shit," Harry snapped, adrenaline bursting his last refrain, "If no one's going to tell me anything?" He waited for an instant, then laughed at their blank faces. "Of course. 'Wouldn't want egg-head here to know a single thing,'" He tapped his temple, laughed again, and told Tom to shut up before he thought anything. He backed out of the room and gave them the finger as he went.
Which felt stupid the instant he was alone in the hallway, his robes sweltering, Bed Sheet hanging loose around his neck as though he was genuinely too hot to touch. He suddenly had too much to think about, so he bolted.
Tom was non-responsive as he sprinted up the grand stairs, jumping from one staircase to a landing while it was still moving as though he hoped to plummet to a painful potential non-death.
He found himself by Hagrid's hut, and he wasn't really sure which of them took him there. He snarled at the Death Eaters stationed at the door not to follow so convincingly that they didn't move at all, looked at each other until Harry vanished into the trees.
"…Bed Sheet, wait here." Tom was shaking as he shrugged the Lethifold off Harry's shoulders.
"What are we doing?" He asked, though he had one guess.
The curse was under every inch of skin, rippling as though it was trying to tear out of his flesh without input, and Tom was sprinting for the edge of the wards as soon as Bed Sheet was loose. Vaulting over stones and tree roots as though they were being chased.
He went beyond the wards, then further still, deep into the Forbidden Forest.
"You can't ask." Tom panted when he stopped, though Harry had already gotten that impression.
He was torn between anger and fear as Tom exploded, agony pouring from the core of them, brought him screaming to his knees. He felt the curse uproot trees, rush through the woods like a hurricane and destroy every living thing unlucky enough to be too close. He felt it reach further than ever, lay the forest low as it went. His arms outstretched, howling, unable to stop even if he wanted to.
He didn't ask if Tom was okay when the black-green ink smoke cleared—still clinging to his arms, he couldn't shake it off—oxygen somehow useless, his lungs screaming for more. He knew he wasn't fine. "…Are we- did- how bad is it? Did… I don't get it."
"I know. I could fucking-" Tom didn't finish his sentence, but Harry knew enough to know his rage was directed at the vampire.
Tom was repeatedly groaning, still on his knees, hands in the shredded dirt and leaf litter; anxiety popped like bubbles in his stomach. "I- that fucking Djinn," He was laughing, but it was pure crazy. "The fish."
"He spoke like… Like we're fucked? What do you think it meant, the- the 'four pieces whole' part?"
Instead of answering, Tom was stripping his outer robe off, frantically rolling his right sleeve up to stare at the Dark Mark. Then he was hyperventilating again, gripped Harry's hair and bit his tongue as he rocked his head into the dirt, forehead pressed to the soft Earth.
"Your Horcrux is going to fucking spit rage." Tom muttered, flecks of dirt winding up in his mouth, too close to the ground.
"Why?"
"He wanted that prophecy as a bargaining chip at a minimum. I… Don't want to think about what 'four pieces whole' means. I don't know. Je ne veux pas penser à ce qui se passera quand tu le sauras. Quand tu m'as dit que tu ne pourrais jamais m'aimer, j'ai pensé, eh bien, cela raye cette possibilité de la liste des possibilités. That's fucking that? Right?" He gripped Harry's hair tighter, almost growling.
He wondered if Tom was about to lose it, his fear joining Harry's confusion, lines blurred.
"Puis tu te l'es caché... Et je me suis dit 'merde, il ne peut vraiment pas le supporter. Il ne peut pas le supporter.' C'est presque pire que de dire que tu ne peux pas m'aimer pour commencer. Et je suis..."
"I can't understand what you're saying…?"
"I know. I know." His whole body was shaking, tingling with panicked pins and needles as Tom rolled onto his back.
The curse was still snaking up his wrists, and though he felt on the verge of a mutual panic attack, he dragged it further up his arms, a distraction that might have worked too well.
He was sucker punched with desire, mixed with a gut-rolling fear that didn't stop Tom from jamming his hand down Harry's pants.
"Et je n'en mérite pas une miette," they both gasped as Tom gripped his cock, "Je ne mérite pas une seconde de toi et je la prends quand même."
Though Harry had no idea what he was saying, it flushed his skin red-hot, granted him immunity to the freezing air.
"Je t'ai revendiquée comme mienne comme si j'avais le putain de droit."
He could have been anywhere in the world, and nothing could have taken his attention away from Tom. At the centre of Times Square? Blind. Inside a volcano? Blind. In the middle of a two-kilometre wide dead-zone in the Forbidden Forest? Blind.
"…Tom, fuck," he was thrashing under his grip, his desperation and uncontrollable desire coursing through Harry's veins like a drug.
"Mais je suis à toi."
He came so hard he was momentarily genuinely blind, eyes open, unseeing.
Tom's fear washed the pleasure out quickly thereafter. He sat up, heart pounding and covered in crumbled leaves. He used his wand to clean himself off but didn't get up from the ground.
"I'll do whatever it takes. You know that? Right?" Tom asked, "Fuck the Djinn. Fuck the vampire. We can do this."
Harry didn't like the way he seemed to be working to convince himself.
"Just trust me."
(AN: Okay now you can no longer me like 'what's Harry hiding from himself' because Tom's just screamed it at you, m'kay? Granted, you needed a translator but that's none of my business. Been busting to write that chapter for months. I wanted to spend more time on it, but life etc. I'm sure some of you might think, 'why would he react badly to this information?' and to that, I would say… Voldemort? Harry would react fine to being IN LOVE with Voldemort? (I hope you didn't save translating for last; if not, this AN is a hilarious reveal.) Don't sass me, pls. I love you xx)