CHAPTER 13: NARCISSA'S INFLUENCE
The Hogwarts Express rattled as it switched tracks, the carriages jostling slightly. The upper years swayed with a practiced ease, their bodies accustomed to the familiar motions of the journey. A First Year lunged to catch his falling owl cage, the bird inside hooting indignantly. Harry sighed, trying to shut out the noise around him. He practiced his deep breathing, letting his magic cycle through his core. In through his breath, out through his fingertips. Magic mindfulness, that's what he'd learned in Nepal, at the Namche Bazaar, the small town that acted as a gateway to the Himalayas proper. The sherpas there held a magic known only to themselves.
A magic understanding, Harry corrected himself. Magic was universal, but the way it was developed, understood, applied - every country had different approaches. Some sects or towns had different methods even within the same country. The sherpas of Namche Bazaar had a magic built solely to climb the hazardous mountains, to thrive in the high altitudes. They breathed in the magic and used it to restore their inner self. Everyone else brought it in only to immediately focus it in their wand. It was in Nepal that Tom learned about magic of the soul.
Harry was still filtering through Tom's memories. It was like sifting through a library with the lights off, feeling his way through the shelves. Even as he scratched the surface, he knew his soul was under threat. He no longer held that line of separation. He reached the peak of the Himalayas. He killed the sherpa for refusing to give up his secrets. And he learned it from his brethren, he razed the town to ashes, and watched it scatter away, until the white snow replaced the black and red.
"Harry?" Hermione's voice cut through his thoughts. She was sitting opposite him, her eyes filled with concern.
"Hmm?" Harry looked up, his green eyes meeting her brown ones.
"Are you alright? You've been awfully quiet," she said, leaning forward slightly.
"Just... thinking," Harry replied, forcing a smile. "About everything we've been through. And what's still to come."
Hermione nodded, understanding all too well. "We'll get through it, Harry. We always do."
Ron, who had been munching on a chocolate frog, chimed in. "Yeah, mate. Besides, we've got each other. And Hermione's plans. We're unstoppable."
Harry chuckled, the sound hollow even to his own ears. "Thanks, Ron. Hermione. I know we've got a tough road ahead, but I'm glad I've got you both with me."
Ron clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Anytime, mate. We're in this together."
The train's whistle blew, signaling their approach to Hogsmeade Station. Harry looked out the window, the familiar landscape bringing a sense of bittersweet nostalgia. Hogwarts loomed in the distance, its turrets and towers bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.
"Ready for another year?" Hermione asked, her voice soft.
Harry took a deep breath, letting his magic flow through him once more. "Ready as I'll ever be."
As they gathered their belongings, Harry's mind drifted back to Nepal, to the sherpas, and to the dark memories he'd inherited from Tom Riddle. He knew he had to keep sifting through those memories, had to understand them if he wanted to protect his own soul. But for now, he had to focus on the present, on the challenges that lay ahead at Hogwarts.
Stepping off the train, Harry felt a surge of determination. He might be carrying a dark legacy, but he wasn't alone. With Hermione and Ron by his side, he felt a glimmer of hope. Together, they could face whatever came their way.
Worse, he'd stopped caring. What did it matter if he was Tom or Harry if he was still so fucking weak? Power. He'd felt it before—enough to topple kings, to move mountains, to drain rivers, and to fill them with the blood of his enemies. There'd been a supposed Dark Lord in Indonesia, a savage who ruled with sheer power, who scared all into submission with his reputation alone. He'd walked up to him and slayed him within eight spells, and then his lackeys, just for fun. He'd changed the course of that entire country on a whim. And now, he was so weak. He had but a sliver of power left, like his magic dripped from a faucet when it used to rush from the seas.
Harry pressed himself to the side of the train as two boys rushed past, one holding a camera. Creevey, no doubt searching for him, unaware he was under his Invisibility Cloak. He had to wear it, to stop himself from sneering at the students of the most prestigious school of magic. After seven years of education, they were still nothing but puppies. What did they know of magic? He shook his head. He should have spent longer with Narcissa and apparated to Hogsmeade instead.
He stopped the soft smile that threatened to spread on his lips. Narcissa was never far away from his thoughts, and it was that truth that had made him leave her early. He was getting too attached. The bond of love he'd engraved on her skin, her soul, had unintended side effects. As her emotions grew, his own heart stirred, no matter what he tried.
"Oi, did you hear? They say the Ministry's sending Aurors to Hogwarts this year," a voice behind him said, dragging him out of his thoughts.
"Yeah, something about increased security. After what happened last year, they don't want to take any chances," another voice responded.
Harry listened, his interest piqued. More Aurors meant more eyes watching, more chances of being discovered. He couldn't afford that, not with everything he had planned.
As he made his way through the crowded corridor, he saw Ron and Hermione waiting for him in their compartment. He slipped inside, pulling off the Invisibility Cloak.
"Took you long enough," Ron said, grinning. "We were starting to think you'd given us the slip."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry replied, forcing a smile. "Just needed some air."
Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "You seem... distracted. Is everything alright?"
Harry sighed. "Just thinking about how things have changed. How weak I feel now compared to before."
Ron frowned. "Weak? Mate, you're one of the strongest wizards I know."
"Yeah, well, it doesn't feel like it," Harry muttered, looking out the window. "There was a time when I could change the course of a country on a whim. Now, I can barely muster enough magic to light a room."
Hermione reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "You're not alone, Harry. Whatever you're going through, we'll face it together."
Ron nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we've got your back. Always."
Harry felt a pang of guilt. They had no idea what he was really dealing with. The memories, the darkness, the struggle to keep Tom's influence at bay. But he couldn't tell them. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
"Thanks," he said quietly. "I appreciate it."
The train's whistle blew, signaling their approach to Hogsmeade Station. Harry gathered his thoughts, pushing the dark memories to the back of his mind. He had to focus on the present, on the challenges that lay ahead at Hogwarts.
As they stepped off the train, Harry felt a surge of determination. He might be carrying a dark legacy, but he wasn't alone. With Hermione and Ron by his side, he felt a glimmer of hope. Together, they could face whatever came their way.
"Ready for another year?" Hermione asked, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Harry replied, taking a deep breath and letting his magic flow through him once more.
He'd taken her constantly over the few weeks they'd had together, hard. In the kitchen, he'd bent her over the table and fucked her until her legs gave out, then came all over her half-catatonic body. In the bathroom, he'd made her eat Gillyweed and blow him while he took an hours-long bath, just because he could. She rode his cock while he lay in Draco's bed, and then he'd taken her once more when she bent over to try and change the subsequently soiled sheets. He'd tried hard to stop himself from feeling so sentimental.
And when that had failed, he'd made her try. Gave her roles to play. The Astronomy teacher who gave him extra lessons past midnight. The nurse who'd grew bones with more than just Skelegrow. But when he'd had his fun, finished in her, watched her stomach balloon with his seed, she'd sink to her knees, clean his cock lovingly, finishing with a gentle kiss on his head. She'd lead him to a warm bed, pull herself against him tightly, so his hand rested on her curved belly, nestle back into his neck, wiggle her delicious bottom against his crotch and sigh happily. Then she'd say, "Thank you, Harry," and fall asleep. She defaulted to the loving, submissive, Pureblood wife, the Lady of the House, and her smile had never been wider.
Harry would lie awake sometimes, staring at the ceiling, feeling the conflict roiling inside him. Narcissa's devotion was absolute, her happiness evident in every gesture, every word. But the more he indulged, the more he felt the line between Harry and Tom blurring. He remembered the way she looked at him with those adoring eyes, the way she would thank him after every encounter, the way she would hold him as if he were the center of her universe.
One evening, after another intense session, they lay in bed, Narcissa nestled against him, her breathing steady and content. Harry's mind drifted to the memories he had inherited from Tom, the darkness that still lingered within him. He knew he was walking a dangerous path, one that threatened to consume him entirely.
"Harry," Narcissa murmured, breaking the silence. "Are you happy?"
He hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "I'm not sure what happiness feels like anymore."
She turned to face him, her eyes searching his. "You deserve to be happy, you know. You've been through so much."
"Have I?" he asked bitterly. "Sometimes I feel like I'm just another version of him. Like I'm losing myself."
Narcissa cupped his face in her hands, her touch gentle. "You're not him, Harry. You're stronger than that. And you have people who love you, who will stand by you no matter what."
He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. "I'm scared, Narcissa. Scared of what I might become."
"You won't become him," she said firmly. "I won't let you. We won't let you."
Her words were a balm to his troubled mind, and for a moment, he allowed himself to believe her. He pulled her closer, seeking comfort in her embrace, trying to hold onto the fragments of himself that remained.
Days turned into weeks, and their time together continued. Despite his internal turmoil, Harry found solace in Narcissa's unwavering support. She was his anchor, grounding him when he felt like he was drifting away. But he knew he couldn't rely on her forever. He had to find a way to confront the darkness within him, to reclaim his own identity.
One night, as they lay entwined in bed, Harry made a decision. "Narcissa, I need to go back."
She looked up at him, confusion and concern etched on her face. "Back where?"
"Back to Hogwarts. I need to face whatever it is that's haunting me. I need to find a way to separate myself from him."
She nodded slowly, understanding dawning in her eyes. "I'll support you, whatever you decide. Just promise me one thing."
"What's that?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"Promise me you'll come back to me," she whispered. "No matter what happens, come back to me."
He kissed her softly, a promise in his eyes. "I will. I promise."
As he prepared to leave, Harry felt a renewed sense of purpose. He knew the road ahead would be difficult, but he had to try. For himself, for Narcissa, and for everyone who believed in him. He would face the darkness, confront his demons, and find a way to reclaim his own soul.
And with that resolve, he stepped out into the unknown, ready to begin his journey anew.
When he left for Hogwarts, she cried, begging him to come back often, promising to make it worth his while. Harry shifted, readjusting his stiffening cock. Fuck. He needed to clear his head. He needed to remember why he'd come back to Hogwarts in the first place. Girls. He needed to add to his harem, to gain more power.
He took a deep breath, pulled off his cloak, and opened the door to the compartment he'd been hiding in.
"Harry!" Hermione and Ron said simultaneously.
"Hey," Harry said simply, scanning his friends. Ron had shot up in height, but didn't look quite comfortable in his own skin, gangly, with awkward limbs not matching his wide grin. Harry felt an unexpected shot of affection. Ron had his faults, jealousy and pettiness, but he'd stuck up for Harry many times, against Draco every year and against the entire school's scorn after the Chamber of Secrets. Now, Harry reflected, he no longer needed his protection or his help. Did that mean he no longer needed his friendship? That would be too callous. But Ron would have to accept a dramatically different Harry this year.
"Where have you been, Harry? I've been so worried." Hermione swatted his shoulder and then hugged him tightly. "You could have at least written back."
"Sorry, guys. I've been going through some life changes," Harry said, somewhat understating it.
Ron snorted. "You look like your magical maturity was designed by Witch Weekly, mate."
Harry raised an eyebrow. He knew he looked different, more of Tom infiltrating him, but he didn't realize it was that strong.
Hermione flushed. "Don't worry, Harry. Ron's just teasing. But you do look, very, umm...different. Very aristocratic, I think my Mum would say."
Harry forced a laugh. "Guess I had a bit of a growth spurt over the summer."
Ron shook his head, grinning. "A bit? You look like you've been spending time with Gilderoy Lockhart's beautician. Got yourself a fan club yet?"
"Not quite," Harry replied, trying to keep his tone light. "Just... trying to figure some things out."
Hermione looked at him intently. "We're here for you, Harry. Whatever it is, you can tell us."
Harry appreciated their concern, but he couldn't burden them with the truth. Not yet. "Thanks, Hermione. I know. I'll explain more when I can."
Ron plopped down on the seat, stretching his long legs. "So, what's the plan this year? Besides the usual dealing with dark wizards and saving the school?"
Harry smirked. "You know, the usual chaos. But first, I need to get back into the swing of things."
As the train rolled on, the conversation drifted to lighter topics, but Harry's mind was elsewhere. He had to remember his purpose, his goals. He had to gather power, and for that, he needed to focus.
Hermione noticed his distraction. "Harry, you sure you're okay?"
He nodded. "Yeah, just thinking about everything. It's good to be back, though. Really good."
The train's whistle blew, signaling their approach to Hogsmeade Station. Harry felt a surge of determination. This year would be different. He had plans, and he wouldn't let anything stand in his way.
As they stepped off the train and onto the platform, Harry felt the familiar pull of Hogwarts, but he also felt the weight of his ambitions pressing down on him. He was no longer just Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. He was something more, something darker. And he was ready to embrace it.
"Ready for another year?" Ron asked, clapping Harry on the back.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Harry replied, a dark glint in his eyes.
He glanced at the castle in the distance, its turrets and towers silhouetted against the evening sky. Hogwarts was home, but it was also a battleground. And Harry was prepared to fight, not just for survival, but for dominance.
With his friends by his side and his goals clear in his mind, Harry stepped forward, ready to face whatever lay ahead. The game had changed, and he was ready to play.
Harry surveyed his loyal friends. He wasn't the only one to grow up - Hermione had developed nicely, growing some real curves. Her plaid red and black skirt was just above the knees now, displaying some of her lovely legs, though it still had some way to go to match the rest of the Hogwarts girls, who'd made it considerably shorter.
"You two are looking well too. I'm glad to see you," Harry chose his words carefully.
Hermione blinked. Ron laughed.
"You alright, mate? You sound like you're reading from one of Hermione's essays."
Harry's smile froze on his face. Had he forgotten so much of himself? He shook his head. "Sorry. Not a lot of human contact over the summer." Not a lot of talking, that much was true. Narcissa usually had her mouth full.
"Where did you go?" Hermione asked curiously. "Dumbledore said you'd left the Dursleys. He seemed quite upset."
Dumbledore, Harry considered. So consumed with his new ritual and Voldemort's memories, he hadn't paid much attention to the man. He might be a problem if he rightly guessed that Tom had more of an influence than just a painful scar now and again.
"Traveling," Harry replied vaguely. "Needed to clear my head, you know?"
Hermione frowned. "Traveling? Where exactly?"
"Here and there," Harry said, deflecting. "Learned a lot, saw a lot of things. It was... enlightening."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Enlightening, eh? You sound like one of those self-help books my mum's always reading."
Harry chuckled, trying to ease the tension. "Maybe I picked up a thing or two from them. Who knows?"
Hermione's concern was palpable. "Harry, if something's wrong, you can tell us. We're your friends."
Harry appreciated her worry but couldn't afford to let them in on everything. "I know, Hermione. Really, I'm fine. Just had a lot to process over the summer."
Ron leaned back, stretching his arms. "Well, whatever it is, you're back now. That's what matters."
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