Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Uninvited Visitor
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"Potter!"
Harry jumped, accidentally knocking over his mug. Cold coffee spilled across the parchments scattering his desk, soaking through them in seconds.
He cursed, reaching for his wand and jabbing it at the mess until it vanished. "Sir?"
Robards was standing several feet away, looking harried. "The meeting, Potter. Are you coming?"
"Right, yes." He hurried to stand, making toward Robards. The Merlin-forsaken jobs meeting.
"The report?" Robards pressed, observing Harry. "We need the report, Potter."
"Of course." He eyed his desk, spotting the rolled-up scroll in the corner. He grabbed it.
[Oh, the report you haven't read? Don't know why you're bothering] drawled the unpleasant cold voice in his ear. [May as well just stay here and keep trying to get rid of me. Of course, you will embarrass yourself at that, too.]
"Shut up," Harry hissed in frustration.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Sorry, sir."
They started walking together toward the main conference room. Harry unrolled the report as he walked, scanning the parchment.
"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" Robards asked conversationally.
Riddle laughed softly in Harry's ear. [You could say that.]
Harry didn't laugh. He closed his eyes and channeled every bit of Occlumency that he had ever learned and tried to close his mind, hoping it would be enough to lock Riddle away.
It wasn't. Riddle laughed softly and receded a bit into the background, but he was still very much there. Harry made a conscious effort to ignore him and stepped through the glass doors and into the conference room.
It was packed. Ron, Daniyel, Ernie, Alicia, and Tonks were all sitting around the long table, along with the majority of the Auror department. Its wooden surface was covered with several boxes of sweets, half the contents already missing. On another day, it may have looked halfway appetizing. As it was, Harry wasn't sure he'd ever want to eat again.
"Wotcher, Harry?" Tonks said brightly.
"Tonks." Harry nodded at her. Ron was trying to catch his eye, mouthing, Where were you? Harry ignored him. His hands were shaking slightly and he squeezed them into fists, accidentally crushing the edges of the parchment.
"Let's get started," Robards said, following Harry into the room. "Now that we're all finally here. We've got a lot to get through and no time, as always." He sounded weary. Looked it, too. Just another person with far too much on their plate.
[Finally realizing you're not that special?] Riddle breathed softly.
Harry ignored him.
"Yesterday, Potter, Weasley, Zeller, and MacMillan apprehended Bensen Burke," Robards continued without preamble, "who attacked a group of Muggles hiking in a cave up in Staffordshire and held them at wandpoint for several hours. As of yet, his motivations remain unclear, and we're not sure if he was acting alone."
Robards paused in his pacing of the room and leaned forward, placing both hands on the edge of the long table. "I don't need to stress that this is a huge, high-profile incident with a significant Muggle presence, that we don't have the bandwidth to cover right now. But we will, because it's our damn job, and there's no one else to do it."
"Yes, sir," Alicia Spinnet said firmly, and there was a general murmur of assent around the table.
"Good. Now, I know you're all neck-deep in it, but there's going to be some shuffling around." Robards turned to Harry. "Potter, you ran point yesterday in Thor's Cave, but I need your team to stay on Mysteries. You're too involved with that to shift gears here. Tonks"— he glanced back at the Aurors at the table —"you'll take the lead on this investigation. Zeller can stay on. Head to Azkaban today and question Burke again. Potter will brief you on yesterday's events.
"And Potter, the Unspeakables provided a final list of items both salvaged and potentially missing from Mysteries this morning. I need your team to review it. We'll be cross-checking the missing items against those confiscated from Rookwood's residence. Let me know if you need more hands. Spinnet, regarding the attack on the Blackwells…"
Harry leaned back against the wall, letting out a tight breath as Robards droned on. It was a relief that he could let the Burke investigation go, at least. More time to focus on the problem at hand. To figure out why the hell Voldemort's bloody horcrux was not only very much alive, but suddenly haunting him like a ghost who had taken an Attachment Elixir.
[Kidnapping Muggles in a cave,] Riddle whispered in his ear, his tone dripping in disdain. [How pathetically small minded.]
[You're one to talk] Harry spat back, baring his teeth. [Remember those children you terrorized?]
Riddle's soft laugh echoed in his mind. [I was ten, Harry.]
Harry closed his eyes, staring at a patch of Riddle-free darkness, and resisted the temptation to smack his head against the glass, as if the motion would knock Riddle out of his mind. When he looked at the room again, Ron caught his eye, giving him a mildly concerned look.
What's wrong? he mouthed.
Harry shook his head.
How the bloody hell was he supposed to tell Ron about this? His heart sank. How was he supposed to tell Ella?
Merlin, they'd think he'd lost his mind.
[I can't imagine why you'd tell any of them] Riddle chimed in, seemingly amused by the situation. [All those people around you. They lack imagination. They would never understand you, Harry. They will feel nothing but disgust for you.]
[That's funny] Harry thought back, closing his eyes to glare at Riddle again. [I feel nothing but disgust for you, too.]
[You should drop the charade. Join me. Think of the world we could build together.]
[Join you] Harry repeated. He could actually feel his blood pressure rising. [Why the actual bloody fuck would I join you. Have you forgotten what you've done? You killed my parents. You tried to kill me.]
Riddle shrugged. [The Union has been completed. There is nothing to be gained from killing you any longer. Yet, you are a container for a piece of my soul, Harry. Like it or not, you are a part of me. You would be much more useful alive.]
[You tried to kill me yesterday] Harry hissed. [Yesterday. I would die before joining you. Occlumens.]
A black shadow slipped over Riddle, engulfing him. He gave Harry a mocking bow as he vanished, fading into the black. Harry sighed and opened his eyes. Riddle would be back. Harry didn't have nearly the skills to keep him contained. He wasn't sure those skills even existed. But he'd get a few blissful Riddle-free hours until the spell broke apart. And then he could simply cast it again. And again. And again…
He pressed his fingers against his eyes, already weary at the thought alone.
"Harry?"
He started. The meeting was over; Aurors filing out of the room past him with a clattering he was surprised he hadn't heard. Tonks was standing in front of him, frowning slightly. "All right?"
He lowered his hand and forced a smile, seeing Ron and Daniyel slip past out of the corner of his eye. "Fine. Sorry."
He didn't elaborate, and they stood in silence as the room emptied, until she finally raised her purple eyebrows and said, "Did you want to brief me on Burke?"
"Oh, right." He unclenched his fingers, offering her the scroll, which was very nearly flat. He was glad that Tonks would be taking over. There would be few explanations and walkthroughs required. He didn't have the mental headspace for either. Tonks made no comment on the state of the parchment, she simply unrolled it, smoothed it out, and devoted her attention to its contents.
"Nine Muggles," she muttered, skimming the report. "Two kids? Merlin, they must have been terrified."
Harry nodded, his mind struggling to refocus on yesterday's incident in the cave. It had been rather horrible. He could see it quite clearly in his mind's eye, now that Riddle had finally fallen silent. The small group of Muggles; trapped on a ledge, cut off from safety by Burke, who had been pacing back and forth, threatening to knock the stones out from beneath their feet. Laughing maniacally the entire time. Screaming about murder and sacrifices.
"The lot of them were," he said. "Can't blame them. Imagine. One moment you're on holiday, trekking through a mad cave, and suddenly a lunatic's waving a wand around and the rock wall's collapsing. They probably thought they were done for."
And they likely would have been, he knew, if their team hadn't arrived so quickly. If the two witches who'd happened to be there hadn't had the presence of mind to send a Patronus straight to the DMLE as soon as they escaped the cave. The thought of the little Muggle boy stumbling to the edge just when they'd arrived still haunted him.
"So why do it?" Tonks was frowning at the report. "He made no demands? Just laughed and attacked, it says. Odd."
Harry shrugged. "We couldn't get a thing out of him yesterday, to be honest. That'll be why Robards wants him questioned again."
He'd had the impression, yesterday, that Burke had had no goals. No demands. Just a raw desire to cause damage. To hurt.
"It says he was recently laid off from the Ministry," Tonks said, her eyes still on the parchment. Muggle Liaison Office."
"Ah." Harry tried to reign in his surprise.
"Could he have known the Muggles?" she theorized. "Was it personal?"
"To be honest, I haven't read the report," he admitted, before she could question him on the specifics. "You'd have to follow up with whoever did that background."
Tonks glanced up from the parchment. "Lot on your plate, Harry?"
He nearly laughed at that, not that it was remotely amusing these days. "You could say that."
"All right," she said, seemingly deciding that she wasn't going to pry. "I'll grab Zeller and head to Azkaban. We'll circle back with you if anything."
"Thanks," he said, relieved. "And Tonks? I reckon you might need a Veritaseum order from the Wizengamot. When we questioned him yesterday, he swore he didn't do it. And never mind that we saw him with our own eyes."
Tanks paused on her way out the door. "Gotcha. That's a new one. Thanks, Harry."
She stepped through the glass doors, leaving him alone in the empty conference room. He sighed, rubbing a hand across his head again. Or, more specifically, across his scar, which ached dully.
"Is Ella all right?"
Ron and Daniyel were hovering around his desk, seemingly waiting for him to return.
"What?" Harry said, taken aback. It took him a moment to rearrange. To sift through the events of this morning, and last night. Merlin, so much had happened since yesterday. He and Ella had never really talked about her visit to Hannah. "Yeah, she's fine."
"Then what's the matter with you?" Ron was frowning. "You look all out of sorts, mate."
"Nothing. I'm fine, Ron."
"Not buying it," Ron said seriously, crossing his arms as he leaned against Harry's desk. "You didn't show for the Burke recap this morning. You're the team leader, Harry."
Harry made a frustrated noise and pressed his hands to his eyes again. "I forgot. I've been here, just…"
Just arguing with Voldemort like a bloody madman. He sighed.
"Did something happen?" Daniyel asked. "If it's something about…" He glanced around, lowering his voice considerably. "Shit, Harry, if it's important, you've got to tell us."
"No, I'm… fine. It's..." Harry looked between them and sighed, uncomfortably aware that they'd probably been discussing him all morning, and for good reason. He was lying through his teeth. It was no good. He'd have to say something. What, though?
The silence stretched. No, he couldn't say it. Riddle was right. They'd be horrified if they knew. Disgusted. It was one thing to be a horcrux. To know the horcrux existed, and dedicate yourself to destroying it. Quite another to have that horcrux stalk you like an overeager ghost. Whispering in your ear…
His hand shook and he squeezed it firmly into a fist.
Ron and Daniyel were still staring at him, waiting for answers.
He glanced around, stalling for time. The area immediately around them was empty, but there were Aurors working at many of the cubicles nearby and milling around the open areas, locked in conversation. It was the worst possible place for any sort of discussion, and he debated drawing them into one of the meeting rooms. But what would he tell them after all that build-up? Already, they were expecting something, and he wasn't… he couldn't…
He drew his wand. "Muffliato."
Ron raised his eyebrows.
"Snape stopped by last night," Harry said finally. "He had a plan to get rid of the…" He shot them a significant glance, not quite daring to say the word horcrux despite the Muffliato around them. "The one, er, that I have."
"All right!" Ron's voice rose by several decibels.
Harry paused, his fingers digging into the wood of his wand. He could feel the sweat gathering there. Yes, he would tell them about Snape. Snape and the potion. He could hardly hide that anyway. And nothing else had changed, really. The horcrux had been there, and was there still.
Nothing was really different. If he just applied Occlumency all the time—
"So what is it?" Ron pressed. "What's the plan?"
"Doesn't matter," Harry said shortly. He drew in a sharp breath. "It didn't work."
He'd said it. And now they could move on.
"Didn't—" Daniyel repeated slowly, and then an incredulous look slipped across his face. "Do you mean you tried it last night?! After we left? After Ella just got back from St. Mungo's?"
"What the hell, Harry?" Ron frowned. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Look, Snape just showed up, all right?" Harry said uncomfortably. "You know how he gets. He wanted to do it right then, and there wasn't time to make a whole thing of it."
"Make a whole thing of it?" Daniyel repeated, his face twisted in disbelief. "Of getting rid of— Of you possibly dying?"
"I didn't…" Harry cursed inwardly. This was going all wrong already, and he hadn't even mentioned Riddle.
"We're supposed to be handling this as a team," Daniyel said pointedly. "Snape or no, you should have let us know. What if something had happened?"
And the guilt had him all over again then. Because Daniyel was bloody right. And a voice he couldn't blame Voldemort for was whispering in his ear.
Reckless.
He gritted his teeth, forcing the words out. "Snape had a plan and we—"
"And you let him goad you into doing something bloody stupid, just you and Ella, yeah?" Ron shook his head. "Let me guess, he made some potion? Something vile and dangerous, and you two decided to just—"
"I'm the one with the bloody horcrux in my head, all right!" Harry snapped, his patience breaking.
As if he didn't know that he could have left Ella right then. As if he didn't think every day about how he still might.
Ron paused. "We know," he said seriously. "That's why—"
"No, you don't know!" Harry yelled, his voice rising as the anger snapped through him, like a coil breaking. "YOU DON'T BLOODY KNOW, ALL RIGHT!"
He turned away, slamming a hand across the desk. His palm stung. He didn't care that they were in the middle of the office. Didn't care that Ron and Daniyel were undeniably right. They couldn't be nearly as angry at him as he already was at himself. There was a silence, filled with the slight buzzing of the Muffliato around them.
"Harry, er…" Daniyel said finally. "I'm sorry, we didn't mean. We're just concerned. That's all. This is a lot."
"I know," Harry said shortly. And in his head, Riddle began to laugh.
[Told you so] he whispered.
Harry cursed, slamming his hand against the table again.
There was another silence, this one much more loaded. This one quivering like a string pulled tight to the bow. He feared they were all in the crosshairs.
"What did you mean when you said that it didn't work?" Daniyel said finally.
"Just that." Harry turned back around, in time to catch them shoot glances at each other. He refrained from commenting.
"How do you know that it didn't work?" Daniyel pressed.
"How do I— it's still there," Harry said, frustration and anger swirling together as he spit out the words. "It's still alive. That's how I bloody know."
"All right…" Daniyel frowned. "But how do you know it's 'still there,' if you didn't know it was there to begin with?"
"I…"
He stared at them like a fish out of water, at a total loss for words.
[You know, I would never let my followers question me like that, Harry] Riddle informed him as he stood frozen in silence, trying to come up with a suitable response. Harry briefly closed his eyes. Tom Riddle was back, standing there. Looking terribly smug. [If they were to question my intentions, they would live to regret it. Should they live at all.]
[They aren't my followers] Harry snapped. He was fighting a losing battle. He would drown here. Drown here with Voldemort in the dark chambers of his own mind. And realization hit him. [And I'm not you.]
He opened his eyes.
I'm not you.
Ron and Daniyel were staring at him, concern clearly evident on both of their faces.
I'm not alone.
Not like you.
"I know it didn't work," Harry said quickly, before he could lose his nerve. "Because the damn horcrux is standing right there next to you. And it won't shut the hell up."
"What?" Daniyel's mouth all but dropped open.
Beside him, Ron looked shaken. "Shit," he said. "Shit, that's not good."
"You can see it?" Daniyel's voice was hushed. "Like, what, it's haunting you? Like, I See Dead People haunting you?"
"Er— yes?" Harry shrugged, the reference lost on him.
"Like a ghost only you can see?" Daniyel clarified.
"Sure, yeah."
They both stared at him, aghast.
"So to sum up," Ron said finally, "after you and Snape had your little party, the horcrux is less dead and more alive."
"Sure," Harry agreed. "You could say that."
He closed his eyes again. Riddle was standing there, looking absolutely furious. [Are you laboring under the mistaken impression that your friends can help you, Harry? Need I remind you what happened last time they tried?]
Harry managed a humorless laugh. "He's displeased I told you. He was probably hoping I wouldn't, so he could try to manipulate me better."
Ron sat down heavily in Harry's desk chair. "Bloody hell. We'd better go find Hermione."