FIC: Abandoned: The Re-Write ~ Harry Potter ~ HPLV/HPTR ~ Mature ~ Chapter 11
Title: Abandoned: The Re-Write
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: M/R
Main Pairing: Harry/Tom, Harry/Voldemort
Side Pairings: Ginny/Theodore Nott, Seamus/Blaise Zabini, past-Ron/Hermione, Hermione/Luna, others
Warnings: SLASH, mentions of child abuse/rape/torture, language, character death, minor Dumbledore bashing, Grey-to-Dark!Harry
Summary: A complete re-write of Abandon: Before the start of his seventh year, Harry Potter is abandoned in London by his muggle family and finds himself befriending Lord Voldemort.
A/N: This chapter does have what is probably the most graphic depiction of the rape in this fic. (No actual sex occurs, but it's very obvious what's about to happen.) If that might bother you, skip the nine or so paragraphs following Harry falling asleep. (Sorry I didn't mark it more obviously.)
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Chapter Eleven: Relationships
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'Focus on a good memory,' Tom directed. 'I know it's hard, but you need to focus on something good. Something that made you happy.'
Tom. Tom protecting him again and again. Coming in after him when he's trapped in his own mind. Saving him from his uncle. Checking up on him when he's upset.
Harry opened his eyes to Marcus' face, centimetres from his own. He was so wrapped up in memories of the man that he didn't think, just leant up and pressed their lips together.
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Marcus could feel the happiness pushing aside the fear and he opened his eyes, watching as Harry's eyelids fluttered and then opened. There was such happiness in the bright green eyes that Marcus almost smiled back, but then Harry's lips met his and the Dark Lord froze.
Harry was kissing him.
Harry was kissing him.
Harry was kissing him.
And it felt...right...
And Harry was pulling away, fear and self-hatred and dejection flooding the bond and making Marcus' head spin.
Why would Harry pull away?
Marcus' right hand came up, all of its own volition, and cupped Harry's face and then their lips met again.
'This is right.'
Neither was sure who thought it, but they both felt it, and happiness echoed back and forth.
Someone cleared their throat.
Marcus pulled away, gasping for breath and looking over at where Poppy was watching them with a smile. On the bed, Harry groaned and covered his blushing face with the hand that Marcus wasn't clutching.
"How are you feeling, Mr Potter?" Poppy asked, tone business-like.
Harry swallowed and very determinedly did not look at Marcus. "Better," he whispered.
"Do you have any idea what happened to you?" Poppy asked.
Harry nodded, because now that he wasn't being haunted by dark alleys and fluttering cloth, he could remember what he'd once read about the curse. "Someone hit me with the Curse of Nightmares. And, no, I don't know who," he added, anticipating the next question. Of course, he wasn't sure he would have said who even if he did know, not with the Dark Lord sitting next to him, leaking murderous intent.
Poppy sighed and nodded. "You'll have to be careful, then."
"He will be," Marcus growled.
'Tom, calm down,' Harry ordered through the bond. 'I can protect myself just fine.'
'Oh, and what was today, then?' the Dark Lord snapped, scowling at the teen.
'My own trust in you and your control over your class,' Harry shot back, raising one eyebrow when Marcus flinched. 'Stop that,' he added, feeling the other's self-hatred. 'You couldn't have known someone was planning to attack me any more than I did. We know about it now, so we can watch for it.'
Marcus sighed. "I don't like that it happened at all," he admitted out loud.
"It could have been worse," Harry said with the wisdom of one who had survived so much. "Better that we found out over a spell we could stop than one we couldn't."
The Dark Lord still didn't look pleased, but he could admit that Harry was correct.
Poppy smiled briefly at how close the two were, then enquired, "How did you end the curse? You clearly knew what it was, Mr Potter, but how did you break it? It's supposed to be notoriously hard."
Harry wasn't sure how to answer that, but Marcus easily said, "You know that muggle fairytale where the princess is woken by the kiss of her true love?"
"Marcus!" Harry cried and reached out to smack the Dark Lord's arm. Marcus just smirked.
Poppy shook her head at the two. "I'll let the Headmaster know you're doing better," she said to Harry, who was glaring at his professor. "I'd like you to stay here until at least lunch, just to make sure there aren't any lasting problems."
"Okay. Thanks, Madam Pomfrey," Harry agreed, shooting her a grateful smile.
"What about me?" Marcus asked.
"Your only class before lunch is already covered, so you might as well stay. Just don't go stressing my patient," Poppy ordered, then left for her office.
Once they were alone, Marcus threw up some privacy wards and they both relaxed a bit, but there was an undercurrent of awkwardness that hadn't existed between them before.
After a moment, Harry said, "Thanks. For coming to get me."
Marcus nodded. "I was...worried..." he admitted and grimaced.
Harry smiled at him. "I'm glad."
Marcus glanced down at the teen and squeezed the hand in his before letting go and standing up. He took a moment to pace, trying to settle his mind into some semblance of sense. Finally, he sat again. "How long?"
Harry shrugged. "A while," he admitted, knowing without asking that the Dark Lord was asking how long he'd liked him. "But it wasn't until my birthday that I really figured it out."
Understanding bloomed in the older wizard's eyes. "I'd wondered about that night..."
Harry sighed. "I'm sorry."
Marcus frowned. "Sorry? For what?"
Harry waved his hand between them. "This. I didn't mean to complicate this...this friendship or whatever we've got. I mean, at the end of the year, we were going to have to face each other and-"
"What makes you think you're the only one complicating anything?" Marcus snapped, anger in his voice.
Harry shrugged. "You only followed me to Hogwarts to try and find answers-"
"I already know you learnt the Dark magic from Moody!"
"But, then, why did you-?"
"I lied!" Marcus got to his feet again and paced under Harry's wide-eyed stare. "I lied because that was-" He spun and glared down at the Boy Who Lived. "I wanted to keep this damn friendship or whatever it was. I didn't want to have to be fighting you again. I didn't-" He choked and looked away. After a moment, he whispered, "I was worried. I needed to know you were safe."
Harry closed his eyes, feeling the confusion through the bond. "When we faced each other again," he whispered to the hospital sheets covering him, "I was going to let you win. I wanted... I thought, if you were happy, it would have been worth it."
"Happy?" Marcus asked, incredulous. "How could I have possibly been happy without you?!"
They both froze, surprised by that declaration.
Harry cleared his throat and glanced at the wide-eyed Dark Lord. "Thank you?"
Marcus groaned and slumped into the chair next to the bed. "You're turning me Gryffindor," he complained.
Harry smiled. "Fair's fair."
"Oh, piss off." But Marcus was smiling, too.
Harry sighed and reached out a hand, which Marcus took in his own. "I'm making you human," he offered.
Marcus closed his eyes. 'I'm scared,' he admitted in such a tiny voice that Harry wanted to hug him.
"Me, too," he whispered instead. And he was afraid, since all his relationships seemed to end in death or pain, but he was happy, too, because even if this...whatever it was ended badly, at least he would still have it to hold on to when he died.
"I'm not going to let anyone kill you," Marcus hissed, golden-brown eyes flashing red for a moment.
Harry blinked in surprise. "I know that. If anyone kills me, it would be y-"
"Don't you dare." Marcus grabbed Harry's face and forced their eyes to meet. "I won't let anyone kill you. Not even me."
Harry swallowed. "Okay."
They kept staring at each other for a long moment after that.
Then, Marcus closed his eyes and leant forward, forehead resting against Harry's. "Dammit, Harry. I care about you. I don't want you hurt; not by my hand, not by the hand of another. I want you to be...happy. I..."
"I love you," Harry whispered and Marcus' eyes snapped open, shock and fear echoing across the bond. But Harry wouldn't take his words back, even if this...whatever ended right here. "I love you," he said again. "I'd give you the world if it would make you happy. I-"
Marcus crushed their lips together, silencing Harry's confession. It scared the Dark Lord, but it also made him so undeniably happy to hear Harry say those three words; three words no one had ever said to him before. "Shut up," he whispered against Harry's lips before kissing them again.
Harry smiled and focussed on the kiss.
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Poppy came again just before lunch and checked Harry over. She'd watched the two wizards behind their privacy ward and, though she'd almost come over a couple of times to tell Marcus off for upsetting the teen, Marcus also seemed to always know exactly what to say to calm him back down. And while much of their conversation had consisted of Marcus pacing or Harry looking sad, they had seemed to have worked everything out and neither of them had resorted to yelling - except once, and it hadn't looked angry, per se.
Poppy smiled at the results from her scan. "Mr Potter should be fine to return to classes."
"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey!" Harry said, jumping out of the bed. He was flying high from all the kisses and attention he'd been getting from Marcus for the past hour.
Poppy shook her head. "Try not to let yourself get too stressed out today," she suggested. "I don't know enough about this spell to say for sure if there will be any after-effects."
Harry nodded, a little more serious at the possible danger. "I understand."
'If you start getting too stressed, I'll come up with something,' Marcus silently assured the teen.
Harry fought hard against the smile that wanted to appear at that. 'Thanks.'
'But you might want to tell your friends to keep you out of stressful situations, anyway,' the Dark Lord added. 'If nothing else, it will give them something to do.'
Harry couldn't keep from rolling his eyes, but Madam Pomfrey had already left the two to their own devices, so she didn't see and think Harry was doing it because of her. "Bastard," he muttered and led the way from the wing.
"Speaking of your friends," Marcus said as they turned towards the Great Hall, "what will you tell them?" He motioned a quick hand between them.
"After I just convinced them nothing would ever come of you and me?" Harry sighed. "If it's all the same to you, Marcus, I'd prefer to keep this to ourselves."
Relief echoed across the link from the Dark Lord. "That is acceptable," Marcus said quietly.
Harry grinned at him. "My friends are Gryffindors," he reminded the man. "And while I'm sure they can keep their mouths shut to others, I'll never hear the end of it."
"How did you get them to leave the subject alone?" Marcus asked. From what he knew of the teen's friends, not much would keep them from making sure Harry was as happy as he could be, not even Harry's own refusal.
"I told them you're a sociopath." Harry shrugged.
"And they let it go?"
"They've got a couple of weeks to move past it," Harry replied drily, but his eyes were alight with fondness. For all that he tried to get them to leave him be, Harry did appreciate his friends' attempts to see him happy. "If they haven't started up again by the end of the month, I'll start to worry."
Marcus snorted. "What will you do then?"
"Tell them you can't get it up," Harry said, deadpan.
"And how would you explain knowing that?" Marcus demanded.
"That question will buy me at least a week. The question of why I'd even care will buy me another."
Marcus shook his head. "Imp."
Harry grinned at him. "I'll see you after dinner, then?"
"You're coming to visit me?" Marcus asked, surprised.
"Only if you're okay with it."
"I'll see you after dinner," Marcus agreed, then strode into the Great Hall. He looked forward to spending time with the teen that didn't involve a nurse watching them out of the corner of her eye.
Harry took a deep breath, then stepped into the Great Hall. Everything was silent for a moment, then there was an influx of sound, and much of it was directed at his health.
Then his friends were there, crowding him and leading him out of the Great Hall. They turned to the kitchens and, once they'd all been served by over-eager house-elves, set about asking after Harry's health themselves.
"I'm out of the woods," Harry said in answer to the questions, "but Madam Pomfrey's not one hundred percent certain that there won't be any after-effects, so she wants me to try and avoid stress for the rest of the day."
His friends traded looks and Harry knew he wouldn't be facing any sort of stress for the rest of the week, if they had anything to say about it.
Indeed, his friends took it upon themselves to accompany him back up to the common room and shoo away anyone who wanted to talk to him during his free period. Dean carried his bag, despite his protestations, to their Transfiguration class and the group again deflected any questions. His second free period was spent in much the same way as the first, except that Hermione had joined the wall around him, having had a class during his first free period.
At dinner, Harry was hustled off to the kitchens again and he just shook his head and let them. Over their food, though, he said, "I was going to visit with Marcus a bit before lights out. Is that okay?"
There was a silent debate about that, but Neville cut into it by saying, "Most of the stress he'll face tonight will be from the other Gryffindors. Wouldn't the best place for him be somewhere that the students can't get to him?"
"And what about the stress from being around Brutús?" Ron asked. "I mean, unrequited feelings and all that?"
"I spent an hour in the Hospital Wing with Marcus before lunch," Harry said drily. "I'll be fine for another couple of hours." And, really, he sort of wanted to get away from his friends for a bit. And spend time with the Dark Lord, but he always wanted that.
"Let him go, then," Seamus insisted. "Better some minor stress in the company of someone who makes you happy than no stress being locked in the dorm. Right?" He smiled at Harry.
"Did you just make a sensible argument?" Harry wondered.
"Will wonders never cease," a dry voice said from the doorway of the kitchen.
"Hi, Marcus!" Harry called over his friends as they all turned, wands out, to face the unknown. "Did you come to pick me up?"
Marcus rolled his eyes. "Yes. Come on, you imp."
"Imp?" Seamus asked, looking over at Harry with amusement burning in his eyes.
"Bye!" Harry said a little too loudly and hurried past Marcus and out of the room. When the Dark Lord joined him, smirking, he smacked his arm. "Bastard."
"That might give you another week," Marcus said easily.
"More likely it will lose me a week," Harry muttered back, but he was too happy to be with the older wizard again to really care.
Marcus snorted and shook his head. "They did a good job at keeping you away from stressful things," he offered.
"Except themselves," Harry replied, wrinkling his nose.
But Marcus had a back door to Harry's mind and knew that the teen had been glad that his friends had taken their self-appointed duties so seriously. "They're good friends. For Gryffindors."
Harry smiled.
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Their evening together consisted of sitting on the couch with tea and discussing Tom's plans for his classes over the next couple of months. Harry's friends probably would have declared such discussion too stressful, especially since it was during one of the classes in question that Harry was attacked, but Tom kept an eye on Harry and steered talk away from any topics that might bother the teen. Incidentally, Harry wasn't actually stressed about having been attacked, just a bit irritated that he hadn't been more prepared for an attack from one of Tom's supporters.
"That reminds me," Tom said when Harry mentioned that to the Dark Lord after an hour or so.
"What?"
"I wanted to owl a few of my Death Eaters."
Harry raised an eyebrow at that. "You owl them? Don't you normally call them and curse them a few times for your own pleasure?"
Tom gave the teen an unimpressed look. "I only curse them when they screw up, and you know that. And when I summon them, it's en masse, but I only want to talk to a few Death Eaters. For that, owls work best."
"Huh. The things I learn." Harry shrugged. "Okay, what do you want to owl them about?"
"I intend to tell those with children in Hogwarts that they need to get their children to leave you alone," Tom replied, summoning his writing supplies.
Harry blinked and twisted his cup in his hands. "What will that accomplish?"
"Other than lessening the chance of someone attacking you in class?" Tom inquired a bit drily.
Harry rolled his eyes. "What would that accomplish for you, Tom? For the Dark?"
Tom scowled, but explained even as he set about writing his letters, "You letting your guard down. Perhaps, if someone is feeling daring, you choosing our side." He paused then and glanced up at the supposed saviour. "For that matter, what is your side? You told me you wouldn't kill me if we faced off in battle, but..."
Harry looked down into his cup and shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't..." He sighed and reached up to rub at his scar. "I don't want to fight you, but I don't believe in you. If that makes any sense?" He glanced over at the Dark Lord.
Tom offered him a strained smile. "You've made your feelings on my policies of kill first, ask questions later quite clear."
Harry smiled back and shook his head. "I understand where you're coming from," he agreed. "I know your fear of the muggles, of what they can do to us if given the chance." He couldn't stop the shiver of fear at the memory of Tom saying the muggles could aim a bomb at Hogwarts in a couple of years. "But, Tom, I can't..."
"Dumbledore's tendency to see the good in everyone has rubbed off on you," Tom muttered.
"Are you complaining?" Harry asked. "We wouldn't be here if he hadn't rubbed off on me just a bit." He paused, then added, "And he doesn't see the good in everyone. He seems to know without a doubt that you're a bastard."
Tom grunted in acknowledgement, then used a spell to copy the first draft of his letter to the parchments beneath it. "I have never had a redeeming quality in his eyes. Perhaps..." He shook his head and set about addressing the letters and adding the names of each child in the empty space he'd left.
Harry set his tea on the table. "I'm neutral, I suppose," he decided, taking one of the completed letters and absently looking it over. "I agree with your world view, to some extent, but I also agree with Dumbledore's."
Tom snorted. "There's nothing about the old man's world view that has any merit."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You're biased."
"You grew up Light."
"I grew up muggle," Harry corrected, setting the letter back down. "Same as you."
"Your first view of the magical world was Light."
Harry nodded, giving the Dark Lord that. "We're both biased," he decided, then yawned.
Tom glanced over at him with some concern. "Do you need to go to your dorm?"
Harry grimaced at the thought. "No," he muttered. "It's not curfew yet."
"No one would fault you for going to bed early," Tom commented.
"They'd just hover. Incessantly. I'm fine."
Tom sighed, then waved his wand over all the letters, causing them to roll up. Another wave saw them all branded with the Slytherin family crest, which Tom used as his slightly more politically correct personal mark. One last wave conjured a flock of ghost-like birds, which picked up the scrolls and disappeared.
Harry blinked in surprise. "What was that spell?"
"The last?" Harry nodded and Tom smiled just a bit. "The Messenger Spell. It creates semi-corporeal messenger owls which can deliver a letter without having to worry about wards, or being caught by a curious watcher."
"Cool! What's the incantation?"
"Bubo nuntius," Tom replied and leant forward to help Harry cast the spell when the teen needed it.
"Wicked," Harry decided and yawned again.
Tom gave him an amused look. "Dorm?" Harry scowled at him, so the Dark Lord stood and gently settled Harry more comfortably on the couch, then conjured a blanket. "At least take a nap," he said to the teen's questioning look. "You're making me tired."
Harry smiled and wiggled until he was a bit more comfortable on the couch. "Did you send one of those letters to Blaise's mum?" he asked as Tom sat in his usual chair, calling over some papers to grade.
Tom blinked. "Zabini?" he clarified and Harry nodded. "Of course. I considered not, but since he doesn't spend time with you..."
"Thanks, Tom," Harry murmured.
Tom shook his head and focussed on his papers while Harry drifted off to sleep.
Ten minutes later, Tom was startled out of his papers by a sudden feeling of terror from the teen on the couch. Heart in his throat, Tom waved the papers away and knelt at Harry's side. Unlike earlier, Harry's face was actually twisted with the horror of his dreams, which meant this was nothing more than a normal nightmare.
The Dark Lord touched the side of Harry's face and whispered the teen's name, but that got him no response. So he closed his eyes and touched their link. 'Harry?'
Helpless terror washed over him, and Tom mentally reached for Harry, but he couldn't seem to find him. 'Harry!' he called, trying not to get dragged into any of the nightmares floating around in Harry's unconscious. 'Harry, it's just a dream!'
There he was. Tom breathed in relief, but then felt a bit sick as the nightmare formed around him, despite his best attempts to keep it away.
The dark alley took shape first, followed by the four large boys huddling around where they had Harry pinned against a brick wall.
"Don't bother, freak," the fattest boy of the bunch suggested, "No one will come if you scream."
Broken green eyes looked past the group of boys, unseeing, as one of them started undoing his trousers.
Something in Tom broke at that expression and he strode forward, absently killing the large teens around them. As he reached Harry, the boy fell forward, into his arms, and clung to the front of his robes. "Tom," he whispered. "Tom. You came."
The scene changed, and Tom's grip tightened on the teen in his arms when he recognised his own throne room. Death Eaters were laughing as they tortured a muggle family someone had got their hands on. Up on his throne, Voldemort drank from a goblet of wine and watched on, bored.
"I never meant you to see this," Tom whispered, but he knew that, as he was in this scene, he couldn't have cared less if Harry Potter watched some torture. That man on the throne would have been perfectly happy to know that his enemy was watching the pain of these muggles and suffering for it. "Don't watch," he said and turned Harry's tear-filled eyes away.
The scene around them changed again and melted into a scene Tom had never witnessed himself, but heard so much about. In front of an archway, Bella duelled with a wild-eyed man who was laughing.
Laughing, laughing... Arching as he fell back, into the fluttering curtain...
"Harry, please," Tom whispered to the boy in his arms.
Dull green eyes looked up at him and something in them brightened when he recognised the man who held him. "Tom?" he whispered and the Veil Room disappeared around them, leaving them in a dark space.
Tom pressed his forehead against Harry's. "I've caused you so much pain," he said. "How can you possibly...accept me?" He couldn't bring himself to utter the foreign l-word. "How could you-?"
"You can't chose who you love," Harry replied, life returning to his eyes.
"I've done nothing but hurt you!" Tom snapped, regret roaring in his ears.
"You've hurt me," Harry agreed, "but when I needed you the most, you came."
"You didn't need me," Tom returned, remembering the time where he'd killed Harry's uncle; anyone else could have come to Harry's aid and been welcomed for it.
"I needed someone, and you came," Harry said so very calmly. "Even when you couldn't come physically, you were there. Even before either of us admitted to ourselves that we could be more than enemies, you were there."
Tom closed his eyes. "I can't..."
"I don't need you to love me back, Tom," Harry said, understanding what Tom couldn't say, "Just as long as you're there...that's all that matters to me." Then the teen smiled and drew away. "Now, get out of my head so I can repair my Occlumency barriers."
Tom grimaced, realising that, in joining Harry's nightmares, both of their barriers had pretty much completely fallen. The teen wouldn't be the only one repairing his mental protections.
An unknown time later, Tom came back to himself and found Harry smiling at him from the couch. "Hi," the teen said, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his posture.
"Hi," Tom replied and rubbed at his face. "What the bloody fuck just happened?"
Harry snorted. "I think you possessed me again."
Tom nodded. "Probably. Not sure how..."
Harry shook his head. "Don't know. It was weird." He paused for a moment, then asked, "What time is it?"
Tom waved his hand and the time appeared between them, glowing like the numbers on a muggle digital clock. Ten thirty at night.
"Curfew was half an hour ago," Harry muttered.
"I'll write a letter to your friends," Tom said, calling some parchment and a quill to him. "You can sleep here."
"I can go back to the dorm," Harry murmured.
Tom didn't bother glancing up from his letter. "I'd feel better if you stayed here," he said in a monotone.
Harry blinked once in surprise, then smiled. "Okay," he agreed.
Tom cast the Messenger Spell on the parchment, then glanced over at the teen. "We can transfigure the couch into something more comfortable."
Harry shook his head. "This is fine."
Tom nodded and stood, waving his grading things over to his desk to deal with at another time. "Very well. I'll leave you to sleep." He started towards the bedroom that Harry had never entered.
"Hey, Tom?" Harry called and the Dark Lord glanced back at him, eyebrows raised. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," Tom replied, and the words sounded strange coming from him. "Now, go to sleep."
"I'll try to avoid the nightmares," Harry offered drily.
Tom shot him an amused smile, then left the main room for his bedroom, the lights dimming as the door closed behind him.
Harry snuggled down on the couch and breathed in the scent of Tom with a smile. He only hoped his dreams weren't too pleasant. That, or he got up before the Dark Lord to deal with any aftermath.
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A/N: So the boys are kind of together, but they've still got their rough patches to get through. Not all is sunshine and roses.
~Bats ^.^x
Spell Explanations:
- Bubo nuntius -- meaning 'owl messenger' in Latin. Messenger Spell
This spell conjures a ghostly owl that will deliver one letter, directly to the intended recipient. Nothing can stop the owl, be it wards or another person.
Abandon & Reclaim Series:
Abandon the Prequel: Sixth Year
Abandon chapter 01
Reclaim chapter One
Abandoned Chapters:
One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten
Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen || Sixteen || Seventeen || Eighteen || Nineteen || Twenty
INCOMPLETE
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