Numb, Dotan
Low, feel the weight of the world in my bones
Try to swim but I'm sinking alone
Always falling in the deep unknown
Now I'm fighting with my hands up, hands up
Feel the bullets from your head rush, head rush
I can see you but I can't touch, can't touch
'Cause I feel numb
So infected with your bad blood, bad blood
Keep on running 'til it blows up, blows up
All I wanted was a real love
But I feel numb
Harry hadn't said anything to it about what he'd felt when they'd cast the curse. He knew it wasn't his, what he had felt. But his mind kept coming back to it, a strange, sick curiosity. The thing itself was refusing to acknowledge that Harry had witnessed anything, or that the Boy Who Lived thought about it almost as much as everything else that had happened.
That morning in the Great Hall felt a lifetime away. Unreal.
It had been two days since he'd last cast, and they'd noticed that the core seemed slightly more solid, though neither of them was going to chance casting anything other than what they had to. Not without Nagini dampening his panic.
Each night Cassiopeia would chase the children of Death Eaters around the grounds, while they fought feebly back. During the day they duelled each other, no holds barred, spells and curses flying wandlessly while they learned to fight with their fists, tackling each other to the ground and swinging. They ran laps, and performed drills, while Cassiopeia was there and when she wasn't.
They would both watch from their window every time they heard them gather.
'So, if we… I mean-' Harry struggled to form the thought that appeared as they watched the Slytherins chase each other around the darkened grounds, 'If we were… Dueling, or- fighting… And they-'
'Cast something painful?' It finished for him, 'It is… Situational.'
'Okay… How- how situational?'
It seemed to not want to answer him. It hesitated and sighed with their mouth.
'Physical pain is- it is a manageable… Issue, depending on... Most spells and curses- they do not… Affect me unless they're... The more intense- the more intensity- more pain the more of a problem-'
Harry thought about it, red in the face and ears as he watched Malfoy stun Crabbe six times in quick succession.
'So, Liquida Tenebris, then… No one's going to be just using that casually, so I mean- maybe it won't be that much of a-' Harry wasn't sure why he was trying to make it feel better about their situation, while he was the one feeling deeply violated.
'You feel deeply violated? You do? Only you, is it?' It snapped, their heart suddenly pounding.
Harry supposed it wasn't just him.
The next time Cassiopeia brought food instead of Narcissa or Nagini, it stopped her, and she sat down, eyebrow raised.
"It's only been two days, hasn't it?" She asked, impatient.
"Stop being a bitch, as though I have wronged you," It surprised Harry by snapping, "If you or the Dark Lord want a sane pawn in your fucking game, you are going to have to consider letting it get some sun."
She looked them up and down, smiling but not friendly, arms crossed.
"Well now, all you had to do was ask," she stood up and left the room, locking it behind her.
They both glared at the door until Harry grew bored of it. She came back over an hour later with a real grin splitting her face, which only served to concern them.
"Tom agreed to make a bunch of school children swear Unbreakable Vows so you can go outside and -not get sun actually… Because it's nighttime right now- but you can run around in the daytime if you insist. Under strict supervision, of course. You're not a visitor," she held the door open for them, and they watched her with their mouth slightly open.
"So, I'll be- I'll be training with you? And them?" Harry asked.
"In a manner, I suppose. You won't be casting obviously, but you can run drills and at least be fast while you're useless," she kept gesturing out the door, so they got up and followed her down the hallway.
Harry couldn't deny that he was glad to be leaving the room. If he ran hard enough, for long enough, he might sleep. She led him through the manor while a nervous energy began to build in his stomach. When she opened the front doors, they squeezed past her and jogged towards the Slytherins.
Harry had expected them to know he was there because he'd been told they'd sworn Vows. At the sight of him though, several things happened at once. Pansy screamed and fell backwards, while the girl Harry recognized up close to be Daphne Greengrass pushed her sister, Astoria, to the ground in shock, both gasping, the youngest scrambling away in the grass. Zabini swore, grabbed Draco's arm and shook him side to side while Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, mouths open.
"You- Why in the hell wouldn't you say that Harry fucking Potter is in your house," Zabini hissed at the blonde, who was quietly watching Harry with narrowed eyes.
"As you can see, children, we have a prisoner joining us today. I trust you all recall your Vows; you will also recall that Potter is not to be harmed. You will not curse him; he will not curse you. He will, however," Cassiopeia pushed Harry into the Slytherins, who were shocked silent, "Run."
Harry sprinted, slipping slightly from the momentum on the well-watered grass. She shot curses from behind them while the Slytherins tried to knock each other to the ground, scrambling to be faster than the slowest, shooting hexes back at the vampire while she danced around them. Harry's head was blessedly clean and all that mattered was where he put his feet as they scrambled into the tree line, Crabbe screaming as he tripped over a tree root like Cassiopeia was actually going to kill him when she caught him.
After she had chased them for over half an hour, then commanded them to do sit-ups 'until she said stop' Harry and the thing in his head were slightly less impressed. It told him that she was likely pushing them too far because it called her a bitch. Harry had almost laughed at that, had to fight a grin from his face.
"How's this for you, you freeloading piece of shit?" She asked, smirking, confirming its theory.
Harry felt it smiling back at her as it pulled them into what felt like the millionth sit-up, "You know I love it, Cassiopeia."
Harry figured that was true judging by the way a small pleasure burned hotter as the pain grew. His cheeks were red and his head buzzed as he fought not to feel it.
The Slytherin's eyes were on him, as they had been all night. It had begun as curiosity and shock but quickly devolved into blame for the extended training session. The vampire had turned away at his comment to look up at the manor.
'Why would you say that.'
It didn't answer him.
They were returned to bed exhausted. Pain and weakness radiated in his legs and middle, and despite the vague want it produced in his gut he was glad to crash into the bed and fall asleep.
Nagini sat in front of him, her hand on his across the table, absently calming the rage he'd been unable to shake while he pointed out words in the book between them. He'd read them out loud in English and she'd repeat them in Parseltongue.
He didn't know how to teach someone to read -and he had little spare time- so it had been slow going, though she was smart as a whip. She hadn't recalled her human life when she'd shocked them both by randomly shifting back into a startled, screaming woman. Being unable to read had frustrated her almost immediately.
"Golden. This word. Golden," he pointed to the handwritten word, and she nodded, finding 'Golden' with her fingers.
"Full-lipped flowers bitten by the sun, bleeding rain, dripping rain like golden honey-"
He stood and crossed to the window, -looking down at the grass where Cassiopeia had punished the whelp and the young Death Eaters hours earlier- letting Nagini read through the book in Parseltongue; A poem she knew from memory, placing the words herself. He was confident it wouldn't take her long. Hopefully, it would stop her from demolishing every book she found and prevent Narcissa's early death via heart attack.
Cassiopeia entered, sheepishly sitting down in the high-backed chair he had previously occupied.
"Sorry, I was starved," she told him, blood smeared on her chin and cheeks.
He didn't say anything to her as she watched Nagini read.
"Look…" She began, and Harry's eyes rolled back into his head knowing she was going to start again, "I know you wanted to find a way to remove it- Ah! Ah! Don't look at me like that. It's too late, for that now, I know you realise. They're like… Fused. It's…" She shook her head, frowning, "…gross actually, you should hear the lip I get- I think you broke the kid, Tom, I don't see what you could possibly want-"
"We have discussed it," he said, firm, "He holds sway whether we like it or not. Used correctly…" He made a sweeping gesture with his hand.
"And what makes you think he'll be used? Went spectacularly at the school, didn't he?"
He smiled a slow, creeping grin, "I am starting to think he did."
"Do you think someone could survive a drop from four stories high?" Harry asked when they woke up.
'…Maybe.'
"Reckon the window would even open?"
'…No.'
"Yeah. Yeah, I didn't think so either."
Cassiopeia told them when she'd chaperoned them back to their room that they were free to roam the manor, under company and by request. They'd immediately requested to be let out in the morning.
And so Narcissa collected them not long after sunrise and lead him to a different dining room than the one he'd seen before, occupied by a smaller, round table, as well as Blaise and Draco. The pair paled at the sight of him and stood to leave as he entered.
"Sit down," Narcissa said, sounding weary as she clicked her fingers for a house elf, who she ordered to bring food. Her son and his friend slowly sat back down, eyes locked on Harry, who sat down as well, feeling bizarre.
"I was more hoping… To go outside-" Harry began.
"First you will eat. Then the boys will accompany you for your morning drills. I will watch from the greenhouse."
"Mother-"
"Draco," she'd put a hand up to stop him as food was levitated in by the house elves.
The blonde watched him with suspicion and distaste while the thing used Harry's hands to pour tea.
"So, why are you here?" Blaise said, tearing a piece of toast in half and asking the question conversationally.
It laughed, short and sharp while it picked up the teacup, startling everyone at the table.
"Blaise!" Narcissa snapped.
"Was it because of what you did at the school?" Zabini continued, biting the toast while Draco backhanded his arm.
Harry's face darkened as they locked eyes with Blaise.
They put down the teacup and it smiled at him, slowly, "You seem keen to find out."
Draco nudged Blaise in the ribs and kept his wide eyes on his plate. Narcissa cleared her throat and Harry took over their hands, picking the tea back up and taking a sip, tearing his gaze away and looking at the table.
They ate in silence after that, the Boy Who Lived not eating much, feeling far too bizarre. Afterwards, Harry followed the Slytherins to the grounds, Narcissa behind them.
"Behave," she warned them as she crossed to the greenhouse at the far end of the gardens, sitting down at a small white table outside it and watching them from afar. A house elf appeared and brought her a tray of tea.
Neither of the Slytherins seemed to want to say anything to Harry as they drew their wands on each other, and Harry found it preferable as he started to run laps from where Narcissa was sitting back to where the Slytherins duelled, ignoring their existence as he forced his vision to tunnel. After twenty minutes, more of the young Death Eaters trailed out of the manor. The three girls came in a group, followed ten minutes later by Crabbe and Goyle.
He could feel them all watching him as much as they could manage while duelling each other, curses flying everywhere. He'd stripped his outer robe and was doubled over, having sprinted for twenty minutes after working too long the night before. The pain in his legs was becoming too much to not be a… Problem. He sat on the grass instead, cross-legged, and soaked in the sun.
'I suppose I should thank you for… Arranging this. I wouldn't have asked-' Harry began in his head.
'We both needed it.'
'Yeah. Still.'
Harry looked up at the manor and tried to guess which of the multitude of windows was the one he'd seen the Dark Lord looking through in his dream. He didn't need to look long, because Voldemort was standing in a window on the third floor, watching them. He didn't move when Harry spotted him.
The Boy Who Lived looked away, scowling.
In some moments it was possible to compartmentalize everything he'd been through. To squash it down, to think of something just slightly less awful. Then other moments -like that one- he felt it all, heavy like cinder blocks in his stomach and head.
He got back to his feet and sprinted again.
Eventually, it told him to stop, rather abruptly and in a stern tone, after he'd pushed them for another twenty minutes, legs screaming in protest. It had stirred the desire low in his gut, but running was better than thinking, and it was manageable enough. More so when Draco, Pansy and Blaise came to sit before them as they leaned against a tree and caught their breath.
Harry noticed absently that Pansy's robes were heavily singed as he raised an eyebrow at them.
"Yes?" It asked when none of them moved to talk, instead shooting each other looks.
"Well…" Pansy said, gesturing at Harry, "We want to know what this means…"
'You and me both,' Harry said in his head.
"Why don't you humour me and tell me what you think this is about," it said, leaning their head back and closing their eyes.
"I think you're here of your own free will," Blaise said immediately.
"That doesn't make any sense Blaise," Pansy responded, exasperated, "Obviously he's a prisoner. Fangs said so last night."
It looked at Pansy while they squabbled, head still leaning on the tree trunk.
"Oh yeah, that settles it then," Blaise said sarcastically.
Harry looked at Malfoy then, who'd been silently watching them. They weren't sure how much the blonde knew, but they guessed it was more than his friends did. He'd accompanied them to support the wards when they'd cast the curse, and so the blonde had to have theories. It was clear that he'd been sworn, or warned, to secrecy. Judging by the way he'd tended to tell Pansy and Blaise everything he wasn't sworn to keep to himself, Harry guessed it was the former option.
"Are you a spy?" Pansy asked, and it snorted.
"Well?" She pressed when they didn't answer.
"Are you allowed to be drilling me like this? Yes? No?" It asked.
Draco looked nervous, and Harry took that to mean no.
"Definitely here on his own accord, Pans. Obvious. Listen to the way he's talking."
"I thought the Greengrass family were anti-Death Eater," it said, ignoring the dark-skinned Slytherin's comment as they watched the Greengrass sisters look at them sitting in the grass, decide against coming over, and then head into the manor with Crabbe and Goyle.
"Things change," Malfoy finally spoke.
"Yeah, they do," Harry sighed.
Come nightfall Cassiopeia entered their room, looking grim. Harry looked at the ceiling and begged for strength.
"What is it," it said, while the Boy Who Lived resolutely didn't look at her.
"Well, it's about… What happened at Hogwarts. I'm sure you're aware murder is frowned upon, especially when caught," she sat down in Nagini's chair.
Harry's gut churned at the word 'murder'. It made him retreat deeper into his head, though there was no relief in it anymore.
"We are fugitives. There is a trial. When?" It asked, forcing them to look at her.
"It's lovely it's like having a creepy mind-reading possessed teenage boy in the house," she muttered, then, "Rescheduled for the eighteenth of August. It would be…" She paused, narrowing her eyes, "…Most advantageous if you could have Occlumency in place by then."
It examined their magic at her words, and they were both annoyed to find no improvement.
'It seems like… When we cast Liquida Tenebris it's somehow… Helping,' Harry thought what he hadn't wanted to think.
'It does seem that way.'
'So, potentially, if we… Cast more often…'
'In theory.'
'I… Don't want to do that,' Harry frowned, flicking his eyes to Cassiopeia and wondering why she was still there.
'Neither do I.'
'So, we'll just- cast when we have to?' He was relieved at the prospect.
He might have agreed to do it, but it would have been begrudging and in desperation.
'Yes.'
"Tom was unsuccessful in trying to bribe me into discussing the finer details with you, so he'll see you when he returns. I don't know when that is, before you ask," she left them before they could ask any question.
"I get why she doesn't like me…" He began, "But why doesn't she like you? You're in my head but... Before the school- she seemed to like you fine."
"We were a novelty, quickly turned threat. She cares about the Dark Lord, not us. We're also… No longer separate."
'So, he planned to remove you from me? But now he can't? Because… Do you think he'd found a way to do it?' Harry asked in his head, and grief bubbled. Not his.
'…Rendered myself irredeemable.'
(AN: Nagini is reading Storm Ending, by Jean Toomer. The next few chapters aren't behaving and as a result there might be a slight delay while I kick the literal shit out of them thank you.)