In Dreams, Ben Howard
Always a riddle in the world she said
Always a riddle inside my head
Always a thing of wonder
The way we come to be
Oh it's a big old place for me
Yeah it's a big old world indeed
Everyone is killing me and everything conspires
In dreams I have watched it spin
Seen the violent crack of atoms
Where all light comes in
In dreams I have lain in sin
Just to be the cracked and the cared for
Ginny had blinked at him, her eyes red, eyelashes clumped together with tears. Harry's heart jumped repeatedly in his chest.
As soon as his mouth opened he couldn't stop the words, and Tom seemed content to let him say it. "There's a prophecy. Voldemort's been taking me to the schools. Like a… Tour. At Uagadou, one of the students grabbed me, saw a prophecy related to us. I didn't hear it; all I know is it's 'Doomsday', and it's somehow our fault. Mine and the Dark Lord's. And he's losing his mind. Like, properly. My-" He cut himself off to glance at Reed and Draco, gnawing his tongue. "He took us to see an Unspeakable two weeks ago. It was bad news. For him. For everyone, as far as I can tell."
"What does that mean?" Ginny pressed.
"My… Horcrux," Harry watched Draco as he spoke. She—the Unspeakable—told Voldemort that if it was inevitable for Tom and me to fuse like we did, then it's inevitable for them too. We don't know if it was inevitable or a result of destroying my core…"
There was a long, confused pause, and then Ginny and Draco were talking at once. By that time, he should have been headed to Defence Against the Dark Arts, but doing his schoolwork or preparing for a purely political, rigged competition felt entirely ridiculous.
Harry waited for one of them to stop emoting profusely and make sense.
"Wait," Draco demanded, almost snapping at Ginny, "Hold on, no, what?"
"When I became his Horcrux, he became mine. He carries a piece of my soul. And he's incredibly dangerous. If they fused… I don't know. Maybe that's what the prophecy is about. He'd destroy everything."
"Your Horcrux would destroy everything?" Ginny repeated, frowning in disbelief while Draco's mouth hung open.
"Your Horcrux?" Draco asked, as though he might have misheard. "Yours?"
"Harry's Horcrux has made it clear he will stop at nothing to break the Dark Lord in order to induce the fusion. He does not allow him to sleep, eat, or think. I cannot guess at the prophecy, but if any of the four of us were to be a catalyst for the apocalypse, it would be Harry's Horcrux."
"I literally hate him," he said, finishing Tom's monologue.
"He is a product of his creation and of his prison, Harry."
"Ohh, right, of course, he can go around being the fucking worst, and he gets a free pass from you. Meanwhile, I can't even talk half the time for fear of saying the wrong thing." He was clutching the armrests of his chair as though he could wrench them off.
"I am doing what I must."
"Yeah, he seems pretty fucking pleased with the arrangement."
"For fuck's sake, Harry, for starters, it is not what you think it is, and the price is steep. I've told you-" Tom bit his tongue and rolled his eyes closed, and Harry was suddenly hyper-aware of his silent audience.
"Well. This is…" Draco said after a moment of quiet, "Information that will get me killed."
"The Dark Lord would not even notice if you told him you knew to his face at this point," Tom deadpanned. "I can have Cassiopeia Obliviate you if you wish."
"Harry… What is going on?" Ginny asked, frowning at him before glancing at a visibly sweating Reed.
He laughed, though it came out more desperate than amused. "I don't know. I don't know. I have genuinely no idea ever."
"We are off topic. If you wish to maintain a friendship with Harry, it will need to be conducted in private. Seeing as Harry has a guard and no way to dislodge them, this is difficult. Reed," when Tom said her name, she looked ready to shoot through the ceiling, "That would be where you come in. Obviously, with everyone's permission."
"Ha, oh, hold on, uh… Because it sounds like you're asking me to be a conduit for conversations behind the Dark Lord's back. I feel like just being here right now is like… Bad."
"You are free to make that judgment; if you agreed, I would obviously be giving you access to my mind," Tom said, and Harry balked.
"Whoa, to my mind, and I think she already knows enough? How many risks are you going to take?" He snapped.
"As many as it takes. I am sure you will find, Reed, that our goal is to fix this. Harry, it is either solitude or this; make your choice," Tom said when he tried to interrupt.
Reed seemed frozen in place, hands tight together in her lap. Then she said, "What is it you want me to do exactly? I'm not saying yes, but…"
"What is the range of your ability?"
"…We could be in separate rooms, but not by very far. Maybe fifty metres? A little more if I'm accustomed to your brain."
"Wait, what do you mean, no way to 'dislodge' his guard, what about his cloak?" Ginny asked.
"Voldemort took it. Stole it, really. For the Skeeter interview. Hasn't given it back. I don't know if he will," Harry said.
"That was your dad's."
He understood her anger and felt it, too, but it was one of his smaller slights. "He killed my dad, so…" The words never failed to take his breath away or silence a room.
Reed, in particular, looked mortified, not meeting his eyes.
"…I don't want her in my head I've had enough of it. There has to be a different way," Harry said. "I haven't agreed to this."
"If you have a suggestion," Tom said, "I will hear it?"
"Are you saying we're going to be linking up telepathically using Reed? Because I feel like that would violate some terms. Also, no offence," Draco looked her up and down, "I don't trust you."
"Valid," Reed said, "Get that a lot, actually," her Scottish accent was thick and she hadn't looked up.
"It would break the terms of your vow only if I did not allow it. Reed knows more than you do, about us." Tom paused, then abruptly switched topics, turning to Ginny, "If I killed Eris in a fit of blind rage, it would not be a surprise to me. Harry has made it clear the knowledge Eris possesses is deeply restricted. The Dark Lord chose not to silence him, leaving him an open venerability. Something Jager is quite proud of. You are, of course, free to do whatever and whoever you like, Ginevra, but he has gravely wronged me—wronged Harry, and shows no remorse."
"He just stood there and smirked at me. He said… I told him not to start. And he did. And then he took the hits. And I can't apologize to you for it. I can't. I won't." Harry finished.
She looked at him like it was impossible like she had no idea what to do. He felt the same way. Ignoring Eris was difficult enough when the necromancer wasn't busy goading him.
"I do not expect decisions now. I want you to discuss the telepathic link with Pollux and Ruby if you decide to do this, Reed. Draco, inform Pansy that we cannot be seen together." Tom said. "The three of you will leave here as though we have had an argument. The Death Eaters outside will report it to the Dark Lord. If you choose to reach out to Harry going forward… Do so carefully."
"Oh, I'm in." Draco said, "Sorry, if that wasn't clear."
"You said this information will get you killed?" Harry said. "And that you don't trust Reed?"
"Yeah, most of this is like that, isn't it? Your Horcrux?" The blonde repeated.
"This is all dependent on Reed," Tom said, ignoring Malfoy's disbelief.
"And me?" Harry said, "I'm- there has to be another way?"
'Reed already knows what we are. She already knows about your Horcrux. Anything she learns is protected by her vow and her powerful Occlumency. I could not move in her head. The Dark Lord will not be able to either. Of course, you are free to say no, Harry; these are your thoughts. The alternative is solitude. Historically, you do not do well alone. Voldemort knows that. You have me, always, but I believe you can also have them. It will simply not be comfortable.' Tom thought.
"There's places in my head you can't go. Can you do that? Avoid things?" Harry didn't mean it to come out so abruptly.
"Uh, yeah? I mean, you'd have to show me… Where not to go? It will take effort." Reed said.
"How much effort? Are you going to accidentally fall into it if you don't focus?"
"Not that much; I wouldn't 'fall in'."
"…Alright, fine. If you decide to do this, there are things you can't see. In… Both of our heads."
"Both of your heads?" She repeated.
"I mean Tom's… Thing. Space," Harry said. "It will be safer for you if you don't learn anything else."
'I don't want her knowing the plan or my 'secret', whatever the fuck that is. Or anything that you're doing with my Horcrux. If we do this, those are my rules,' he thought.
'Alright, Harry.'
"When you say it's a doomsday prophecy…?" Reed asked, and Ginny leaned in.
"That's all I know," Harry said.
"If we don't agree to let Reed in our heads, we aren't… We won't know anything? We can't talk to you at all?" Ginny asked.
Harry flinched at the way she made it sound like she wasn't going to agree or that the only reason she would agree was to be kept posted on the state of the apocalypse.
"No. I need him to believe he has successfully driven you away," Tom said.
"Why?" She pressed.
Harry didn't say anything.
"He's horrible," Ginny said, and Draco and Reed whipped to look at her.
"I mean, I'll engage in covert conversation for the sake of being informed on the 'end of the world' and keeping our Boy Wonder company during these dark times, but I'll stop you at slander, Weasley," the Malfoy said.
"Slander? You-Know-Wh- Voldemort, is- he might have changed his tactics politically, but he's the same as he's always been." Her arms were crossed, glaring at Draco, and Harry heard Eris in her words.
"Congratulations, Ginevra, on speaking my name. Are you the girl who clutched the diary, my diary—as it whispered poetry and violence and success so sweetly to you? Did you hear it? Are you the girl who raises the dead and holds them there, against all outside opinion, destined, truly, for greatness? Or are you a parrot, squawking pointlessly at me?" Tom snarled, and even Harry balked, fighting to avert his eyes.
Ginny didn't need to pretend to cry as Harry let them out, and neither did he.
Draco stomped down the stairs in a practised sort of way, as though it was not his first time faking a disagreement. Reed simply looked stunned, frowning with wide eyes as she trailed behind the other two.
Harry closed the doors and screamed into his fists.
The mark burned just before ten, and Cassiopeia was waiting for him in the corridor.
"You suck at school. Terrible student—my least favourite," she said, nose theatrically in the air, arms crossed. "Missing classes again."
"What are you doing?" Harry asked.
"Pulling a McGonagall."
"Awful impression. And she's in prison."
"Oh, I know; good, she was my least favourite professor. Have you been avoiding me or the world in general?"
"…World." He started down the stairs, and she went with him. "Are you going to the meeting?"
"Yeah, what's wrong with him? He's more Dark Lordy than usual."
"Uh, lots."
"Right, we need to do something about these snitches." She sneered at his masked guard as they followed through the west hall and out onto the grounds.
"Good luck," he said.
"…I really need an update." She muttered, watching him from the corner of her eye.
"Yes, you do," Tom said.
Cassiopeia took his arm when they reached the edge of the wards and side-along Apparated him to the Malfoy Manor.
Snape and Rookwood were at the wide double doors, open as usual. Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco just inside.
"Ugh. Snape. Ugh." Cassiopeia said as she started up the gravel path. "Let's kill him. You need the stress relief, I need the breakfast. Second thought, that's too much grease this early in the day."
Harry snorted despite his sour mood and smirked at her. A pop of Apparition behind them made him partially turn to find Fenrir Greyback following them to the entrance.
"Oh fuck yes, even better," Cassiopeia hissed, not turning, looking disgusted.
"What that that, vampire cunt?" Greyback called.
"Oh, I'm sorry, are your dog ears not working? I said even better!"
Rookwood and Snape had spun to watch, and the Dark Mark was fizzing on his arm again as the Dark Lord stepped between Lucius and Narcissa, Elder Wand pressed to his mark, eyes on Cassiopeia.
"Peace and love, peace and love," she said as she jumped up the three front steps, "I'll gut the mongrel in the foyer," Cassiopeia muttered at Voldemort as she passed him, Harry not far behind her.
"The blood will look stunning on these black and white tiles. Marble and granite, Lucius?" She continued.
"…Basalt and white quartzite," he told her, though she wasn't listening, and he didn't seem to care.
Harry met Voldemort's eyes as he passed and found them dull and tired, dark rings forming underneath. He was masked, but it was obvious that he was exhausted.
'This is not good for a multitude of reasons,' Tom thought, though he didn't exaggerate.
'…Why?' Harry thought, halfway down the hallway that led to the usual dining room, following diligently behind Cassiopeia, sitting down beside her in his usual seat.
Nagini sat on the wide tabletop as was standard, fingers blackened by charcoal, though there was no notebook in sight. She smiled at him as he took his seat, but she looked sad.
'He appears weak. It is becoming obvious. Many would take advantage,' Tom thought.
'My Horcrux said he'd shut up when we're around and speaking?' Harry wondered.
'Yes.'
'Time to start talking, then?' He thought, then said as the Dark Lord sat down: "Just out of curiosity, did you take the curse off the Defense Against the Dark Arts position before you gave it to Cassiopeia?"
Everyone had taken their seats. It was silent while Harry spoke and for a long moment after.
"…What?" The Dark Lord asked.
"The curse? On the Defense position. Did you remove it?"
"I second that question, matter of fact?" Cassiopeia said.
"I left it cursed for you. What do you think I did?" He was looking at Harry, talking to the vampire.
"I was just making sure you didn't forget," Harry said, watching his face for any sign it was working.
His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head fractionally, before he looked away and said, "…Enough." In Parseltongue.
Harry tried to appear nonchalant while he shrugged.
"Uagadou, Jaadoo Seekhana, Durmstrang, and Koldovstoretz are confirmed. We will need more space for transfers than I anticipated, Severus."
Voldemort didn't allow him to speak, though Snape's mouth opened.
"As you may know, Koldovstoretz—and, by proxy, the Russian Ministry—are now considered a significant risk. Fenrir." The Dark Lord snapped the werewolf's name—who was busy gnashing his teeth at a manically grinning Cassiopeia.
"Yes, my Lord."
Even Harry heard the edge in Greyback's tone.
"You will assist Lucius with the security preparations," Voldemort said, and Lucius looked constipated trying to hide his disgust.
Draco was doing an excellent job of pretending to be wronged, not meeting Harry's eyes, an air of distaste not unlike his father's about him. Though his eyes occasionally bugged, he didn't look at Harry or the Dark Lord.
"Did one of you fart?" Harry asked the Malfoys, in part to watch Lucius' face disfigure completely but also to see if Voldemort had noticed the silence yet.
"Having a disagreement with your little friend?" The Dark Lord asked in Parseltongue, almost predictably unable to resist.
"You would want to know, wouldn't you?"
It was obvious by then Voldemort had noticed that Harry's Horcrux was silent; his frown squashing his eyes, the room quiet for an uncomfortably long time before he spoke again.
"…Rookwood."
"Ah, yep. Vivariums are complete. Ready to go. You would think the rain cycle in a desert biome wouldn't be so bleedin' hard," he shrugged.
Narcissa gave her usual fund related spiel, then a fresh one on the potential Durmstrang profiles. Harry tuned it out, watching the Dark Lord's eyelashes flicker when he blinked.
Voldemort dismissed everyone but Cassiopeia and Harry, and he was quick to remove the mask.
"I want the vampires in the school. Viability?" He rubbed his face and pulled the hood back.
"Uh, well," Cassiopeia said, "That depends; what would you be offering him? Because there's a fine cost between bloodbath and peachy."
"And peachy costs?"
"Depends on Enos." She leaned her full weight on the wood, propped on her elbows, "You're going to ask me to deal with them, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Oh my god, no, totally I want to talk about the vampires, yep. I love liaising with them, yes. Thank you."
"…What do you want to talk about?" The Dark Lord looked around three seconds away from putting his face on the table.
"Oh, nothing interesting going on?" Cassiopeia asked.
Nagini grimaced and rolled her eyes.
"You want the vampires at Hogwarts for the duelling competition?" Harry asked.
There was a long pause. Voldemort frowned at him, blinking hard, head leaning heavily in his hand. "Your deductive skills are frightening."
"Yeah, thanks. Isn't this my business, though? Like, what goes on in the school."
As Harry knew he would, the Dark Lord slipped automatically into the serpent tongue with him, "What do you propose? You understand this is not simply an event? A show of force is required."
"Is it a show of force if your force eats the students?"
"You heard her; pay the right price."
"What if the price the whole time has been a bunch of… Juicy… Students?"
"Do you even think before you speak?"
"Not really, do you?" Harry knew he thought exactly too much before he spoke, but was again watching him register the silence of his Horcrux, confusion and relief mingling with disgust.
"Goodnight, Cassiopeia," Voldemort said, not taking his eyes off Harry.
"Ugh, fine, I'll leave without a fight only because of the obvious goo-goo eyes I'm being forced to witness. Nagini, help me find the front door, I forget where I am."
Nagini frowned but slid off the table anyway, followed the vampire out, and said, "We're in the Malfoy Manor?"
The doors seemed to shut at the same time as the Dark Lord's eyes, and his head fell into the fold of his elbow, mouth open, entirely and immediately unconscious. Without any hesitation, Tom reached out and touched two fingers to the back of Voldemort's wrist, resting Harry's forehead on his arm.
As the bliss spread through him, familiar in more ways than one, Tom didn't resist sleep. He seemed to encourage it, holding his eyes closed.
Tom was talking, humming, muttering into Harry's mouth in French, sucking and nibbling his bottom lip between words. Harry held his face and found his checks strangely damp. For a moment, he was confused by the physical contact, bewildered but not upset to find he was pressed against a wall. It was quickly disregarded.
"Tout ce que j'ai, tout ce que je suis, sera à toi," Tom whispered.
His kiss was intoxicating, soft and searching—mirroring his hands, flicking the buttons of Harry's shirt undone and snaking them across his chest.
"J'y veillerai. Je vis et je respire toi." Tom's tongue found Harry's, and an explosion of want had him tearing buttons loose in response, moaning helplessly into his mouth.
"Wow, that's GROSS."
His Horcrux's voice was the equivalent of being uppercut with a mallet, springing them partially apart, Tom's arms locking Harry against the wall. A wall in the Scriptorium, he realised.
"Reckon they'll still fuck while you're watch- Oh! Come on, got a face on like you've not seen true beauty. I'm asking for YOU, SICK fuck."
Harry had to duck under Tom's arm to see his Horcrux—at the same time he understood he was dreaming—to find him waltzing without a partner in circles around the Dark Lord. Voldemort watched him dance like he'd never seen anything so horrifying.
And Harry found that he had to agree. He looked like him, but only in shape. The same mop of dark, unruly hair, the same height and build, even dressed in robes that Harry would wear. His face, though, was entirely different. Expressionless, dark red eyes bulging. He moved disjointedly, transitioning from waltzing expertly smoothly to jagged, unpredictable, and alarming motions, like his bones were breaking and reforming.
"What the fuck?" Harry muttered, then again, louder, when no one answered him.
"What IS this?" Voldemort demanded at the same time.
Harry's Horcrux stopped dancing abruptly, facing the Dark Lord and grinning unnaturally wide. There was a brief, still, silence before his Horcrux took three quick steps towards Voldemort and screamed—a shrill, animal sound, baring sharp teeth—at the top of his lungs into his face.
The Dark Lord grabbed him by the throat, quick as a viper, eyes insane.
"Ye-ah! CH-OKE—ME—DAD-DY!" He'd been lifted off his feet, swinging his legs and holding Voldemort's arm.
"What the fuck, Tom?" He repeated, watching him watch them, eyes narrowed and calculating as he held Harry against the wall.
"It's alright," he whispered as the Dark Lord tossed his Horcrux across the chamber, thudding into the stones with a gasp and a laugh.
He quickly corrected himself to sit cross-legged and stare up at Voldemort.
Then he was singing tunelessly, and the Dark Lord immediately locked his hands over his ears.
"Lie still, little thing, no more whimpering, listen while I sing, and make less noise." He turned to look at Harry, wide eyes blank. "In my mother's day, people used to say thieves will take away all crying boys. Now you're being good, I see, so the thieves won't hear you."
"Shut UP! SHUT IT UP! WHAT IS THIS?!"
"You are very safe with me; I will stay quite near you. Oh, what would I do if that tale were true? No one will have you, my best of joy-"
Voldemort decided to take matters into his own hands and shut Harry's Horcrux up by kicking him—with a two-step run-up—in the mouth.
"RUDE! I WAS SINGING MY FAV-" He was kicked again, and he was standing in an instant, both the Dark Lord and Harry's Horcrux staring, manic, into each other's eyes.
Tom slowly stepped away from Harry and smoothly pressed a finger to his lips in a 'quiet' gesture. He was faster as he got closer to his Horcrux, grabbing his hair and tearing him to the floor, yanking him away from the Dark Lord.
He screeched like a banshee, thrashing his entire body as Tom dragged him rapidly across the chamber. Voldemort took half a step forward, scowling, before he stopped himself. In the same instant, Tom let his Horcrux go, smiling almost demurely, before backing away from them.
"Bad fucking touch, ASSHOLE." His Horcrux snarled.
Tom kissed Harry on the scar when he reached him and repeated, in a whisper, "It's alright."
Then he was approaching Voldemort, who was staring unblinkingly, as though in shock, at the version of Harry sitting on the floor—oozing spite.
It was bizarre to watch Tom Riddle whisper unintelligibly into his own ear, an older, angrier version of himself. He held the Dark Lord's jaw in one hand as though to stop him from pulling away.
Tom didn't take his gaze off Harry, and Voldemort appeared nearly distraught, his chest heaving as he watched Harry's Horcrux.
Harry glanced at him. He was almost demonic in appearance. Still sitting on the floor, almost meditative, silent and staring back at the Dark Lord. A furious flesh sculpture.
He returned his eyes to Tom, trying to read his lips or their faces.
Voldemort looked at Harry, and he and Tom had the same expression for an instant—one that made his stomach roll, made him feel entirely naked against the stone wall. Tom didn't stop whispering into his ear.
"Did you do this?" The Dark Lord asked, and Tom chuckled.
"Why on Earth would I want you here?" he asked, still laughing.
Harry noticed with a start that his Horcrux was right next to his face, smiling as though he'd never actually done it successfully before.
"He just dragged me around by my hair. Did you see that?"
Harry glanced at Tom—seemingly content to whisper at the Dark Lord in much the same way his Horcrux whispered to him.
"What does stuff feel like?" He asked. "After he leaves you alone, he tries to tear his cock off."
"…What?" Harry asked.
"Then he vomits. Sometimes, he cries. Your bitch asked me real nice to scream for him while he pulled me."
He and his Horcrux had the same idea simultaneously and cracked their foreheads together, instantly trying to savage each other.
He bit Harry's ear clean off without hesitation, sharp teeth cutting through cartilage like butter. Though it was a dream, and he didn't strictly feel it, adrenaline amped him anyway as blood poured from the side of his head. Harry shoved him off, his ear caught in his Horcrux's mouth—cackling like a hyena, fanged teeth bloody.
Harry jerked awake, heart pounding, face stuck to the table in the dining room of Malfoy Manor.
'What the fuck?'He repeated in his head.
The Dark Lord was still asleep, eyebrows having a stern meeting. Harry reached into his pocket for the blue stone he'd been given at Jaadoo Seekhana—transferred from pocket to pocket since—and dropped it into Voldemort's open palm.
'Forgive me. I needed to gauge something,' Tom thought, eyes locked on the blue stone as Harry stood up.
'And?' He thought, testing the doors and finding them unlocked.
'He nearly stopped me. From harming your Horcrux. It is extremely interesting that his first response is to protect him. From this, we can also assume that your Horcrux can be influenced and manipulated with the right input.'
'The 'right input,'' Harry scoffed as he collected Narcissa in the foyer, and she walked him to the gates.
(AN: Well then. This chapter was not particularly long, but Jesus was it hard to write plot-wise. Tom was like fuck it let's pull the pin on every grenade I've got while they're all still in my pockets. Even Harry was like, 'Uh, are you sure?' I wrangled him with difficulty, but he still… Made choices. Never seen him so poorly behaved.)
