FIC: Abandoned: The Re-Write ~ Harry Potter ~ HPLV/HPTR ~ Mature ~ Chapter 10
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.
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Chapter Ten: Teaching
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"Well, I'm off to bed," Harry announced at the end of the hand. It was Sunday night and the boys were playing poker down in the common room. Ron had been playing for a while, but some fool fourth year had come and challenged the chess genius to a game and was currently being soundly defeated.
"So early?" Dean asked.
"Not all of us can sleep until lunch," Harry replied, rolling his eyes.
"But you don't have class until ten, right?" Dean glanced at the other two boys, who were also taking Herbology.
"Marcus asked me to help with some of his morning classes." Harry shrugged.
"Right," Seamus said, nodding. " 'Morning classes'."
"He is going to curse you one of these days," Neville commented drily, "and the rest of us are going to sit back and laugh."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Good night."
"Good night, Harry!" they called after him.
Harry slept fitfully that night, worried about how well he would manage working with Tom in front of all those kids. He had never really considered running the DA as 'teaching', per se, though he supposed it sort of was, but it involved working with his peers as another student, not as a... What would he be, anyway? Teacher's assistant?
The next morning, Harry did a great deal of tossing and turning before he finally got up and went to breakfast.
After about ten minutes, Hermione and Parvati sat down across from him, and both girls looked concerned at how he was only really poking at his food. "Harry, is everything okay?" Hermione asked.
Harry sighed and gave his two year mates a smile. "Fine," he said and watched as irritated amusement flashed across their faces at his standard non-answer. "Just a bit..." He sighed and sat his fork down. "Marcus got me to agree to help him with some of his classes, and the first one is this morning. Not sure how it's going to go, really."
"You'll be fine," Parvati said with conviction. "You remember how I was having so much trouble with the Entangling Hex?"
Harry's lips curled with a smile at the memory. "You kept mixing it up with a bandaging spell," he agreed.
"Harry, you spent almost two hours working with me," Parvati reminded him. "We talked it through and you were so patient, even when I started crying. You were...amazing. Anybody would be lucky to have you teaching them."
"You're a good teacher," Hermione agreed. "In everything else I've seen you do, you sort of rush in, wand blazing, but when you're teaching, you're really calm and patient. Look at how much Neville improved when you were working with him."
Harry smiled. "Thanks."
"Sure thing, Harry."
The rest of breakfast went by quickly enough, with the two girls talking about their history class. Binns was as boring as ever, but they were focussing more on self-study, so there wasn't as much of a need to listen to the ghost drone on. Since Hermione's project was the war with Grindelwald, a lot of what she was looking up was about that time period, whereas Parvati's studies tended to focus on her own passion of laws.
At eight thirty, Marcus came down from the Head Table and stopped next to Harry. "Last minute prep?"
Harry grimaced, but rose from his seat. "Sure thing. 'Mione, Parvati, I'll see you both later."
"Good luck, Harry!" Hermione called.
"See you in Herbology!" Parvati added, grinning.
Harry rolled his eyes and fell in step with Marcus on the way out of the hall. "Unless you'd prefer otherwise, let's continue to refer to each other by our last names in the classroom," Marcus suggested.
"Okay," Harry agreed, seeing nothing wrong with that. It made sense that they wouldn't want the younger years getting too fresh with their professor, and if they saw Harry doing it...
"I am also...uncertain what you'd like the students calling you," the Dark Lord admitted. "I know you've taught some of them before in a more informal setting, but there will be a number of Slytherins..."
Harry shrugged. "Most of the younger years still call me Potter, even the Gryffindors. Occasionally, one of them decides to call me Harry, but they're mostly fifth years, with one or two forth years."
Marcus nodded. "I will request, then, that in my classroom they treat you with respect," he decided. "That should keep the Slytherins from calling you names, but allow those few Gryffindors comfortable with your first name to use that."
"That should work."
Marcus led the way through the classroom and up to his office. There, he motioned Harry towards the chair in front of the desk and sat at his own seat. "I've already graded their practical tests. Do you know who most of this year are?"
Harry sighed and shook his head. "I know enough of the Gryffindors, but almost none of the Slytherins."
Marcus nodded. "Any of the Gryffindors who aren't likely to cause trouble with the Slytherins?"
"Emma Dobbs," Harry said without pause. "Her sister, Angie, is in Slytherin. She's a shoe-in for the prefect position next year."
"I'll have her pass out the papers, then," Marcus decided. "I intend to split the class into two, like I did with your class, to let them duel each other. We should have enough time for two duels and then a discussion afterwards. Could you work with the less able group on figuring out what they could have done better? We can use our class on Wednesday to have a class discussion."
Harry nodded. "I can do that."
"Excellent." Marcus glanced over at the old clock in the corner with snakes for hands. "Well, it's about time. Ready?"
Harry took a deep breath and grimaced. "Not much choice at this point."
"You've already agreed," Marcus replied with a smirk.
"Alright, then. Let's go teach the little brats."
Marcus chuckled and led the way out into the classroom, which was already full. There, he stopped in front of the desk and Harry stopped just a bit behind him. "Good morning, class," Marcus said with a pleasant smile.
The students all muttered half-hearted greetings back. Some of them were staring at Harry curiously.
"I'm certain you all know Mr Potter. He's agreed to help me with the third through fifth year Gryffindor/Slytherin classes. While he's in this room with you, he will be given the same respect you give me. I hope that's clear?"
"Yes, sir," the students agreed.
"Excellent. Miss Dobbs, could you hand these papers back to your classmates?"
Emma got up and took the papers, then started handing them back. While she was doing that, Marcus explained the itinerary for the day, then started separating them into groups.
The duels went pretty well. It was obvious which students had had some sort of previous tutoring in duelling, most of them from the DA, but some of those were Slytherins. Both of the fifty-point prizes went to Slytherin, which made the Gryffindors look rather irritated.
"You'll just have to win the points back in the rest of your classes today," Harry said to the Gryffindors in his group. "That, or practise a lot and next time Professor Brutús has a duel, win." Then he turned to the Slytherins, who were looking murderous, and added, "Of course, that doesn't mean you have make it easy for them, does it?" And the snakes all smirked. "Good, now that you all plan to work harder in this class, how about we discuss what you could have done better during the duel?"
The conversation quickly devolved into an argument between the two Houses about how the others did more stupid things and Harry sighed and rubbed at his scar.
In the end, he was saved by the bell and the class hurried out, glaring at each other. On his own way out, Harry glanced back at where Marcus was sitting in wait for his next class and scowled at the smirk the man shot him. "Oh, piss off, you," he snarled and stormed out, followed by Marcus' laughter.
During Herbology, in between re-potting the plant of the day, Harry told his friends about how the class went and in between their laughter, they all gave him multiple suggestions as to how he could have got the students to stop fighting, most of which involved pulling out his own wand. Neville had the only suggestion that hadn't involved a wand: Glare at them until they whither.
Harry had just sighed and focussed on the plants.
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The third years just before supper had been easier, but Marcus wasn't letting them duel each other yet, so the only real rivalry involved who could answer a question fastest. Harry really hadn't needed to be there, but Marcus sent him to write notes on the board, which he rolled his eyes at even as he did so.
When the bell rang and the students ran out the door, Marcus turned to Harry, who was magically wiping the board clear, and commented, "Did you have trouble with the fourth years?"
Harry gave the older wizard an irritated look. "Piss off."
"The mighty Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world," Marcus continued, golden-brown eyes sparkling.
"You did not just spout that rubbish at me!"
Marcus chuckled and shook his head, leaning back against his desk. "What happened, then?"
Harry sighed and pulled out Marcus' chair to sit in. "The Gryffindors were being grumpy about the Slytherins having won both duels, so I told them they'd just have to try harder. Then I told the Slytherins they should also keep practising so it wasn't too easy for the Gryffindors. And they proceeded to snipe at each other the rest of the time." He reached up and rubbed at his scar.
Marcus nodded. "You're trying not to show favouritism?" he enquired.
Harry shrugged. "Sort of, yeah. I mean, it's a bit hypocritical of me to continue hating Slytherins so much when I've got you as a friend."
The Dark Lord smirked. "I'm touched."
"Touched in the head," Harry retorted. "Sociopath."
Marcus laughed.
A knock came at the half-open door and they both looked over towards it. Seamus, Dean, Neville, and Hermione were all peeking in, smiling at the two wizards at the desk.
"Where's Ron?" Harry wondered, standing from the chair.
"Out in the hallway," Dean replied, rolling his eyes.
"It's suppertime," Seamus added. "We decided to come see if you wanted to eat with us." He grinned a bit madly and waggled his eyebrows.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Excuse me, Marcus, I have an Irishman to kill."
"Make sure you hide the body sufficiently," Marcus retorted as the Boy Who Lived ran out after his friends. Harry paused long enough to salute him, then hurried away.
When Harry and his friends were all sitting around the Gryffindor table, Hermione asked, "Why did you call him a sociopath?"
"And what is a 'sociopath'?" Neville added.
"It's a term muggles use to define someone who goes against social norms. Uhm... They lie and cheat to get what they want, without regard for the feelings of others," Harry explained, having looked it up after the first time Tom mentioned the word in conjunction with himself. "Sociopaths rarely feel remorse and they tend to have trouble empathising with other people. And, 'Mione, I call him that because he is a sociopath. Self-diagnosed, but still..." He shrugged.
They all stared at him for a long moment and Harry shrank in his seat, uncomfortable. Then Hermione leaned over and hugged him. "Oh, Harry..." she whispered.
"But... does that mean he can't ever like you back?" Dean asked, understanding the concept of psychology better than any of their wizard-raised friends, even if he didn't know much about it as a science.
Harry shrugged. "Don't know," he admitted. "From what I read, a sociopath can have a relationship, but it's rare, and there's no telling how normal the relationship is, since they're usually just in it for the self-gratification, not because they particularly care for their partner."
"Oh," said Ginny, who had joined them when they'd sat down.
"So you're not even going to try?" Seamus asked, and his usual teasing was absent. Instead, worry and some sorrow reflected in his dark eyes.
"No," Harry agreed, carefully extracting himself from Hermione and taking a napkin from the table to wipe her eyes. "Here, now, there's no need for tears."
"It's not fair!" Hermione whispered furiously, taking Harry's hand and holding it. "It's not fair that so many people expect things of you, but you don't get to be happy!"
"I am happy, 'Mione," Harry replied, smiling just the slightest bit and glancing around at all his frowning friends. "I'm happy that I've got such good friends and that you worry about me. Really, I am, even if I want to strangle you sometimes." He looked back at Hermione, who had tears on her cheeks again. "You're worth this."
Hermione let out a quiet sob and buried her face in Harry's robes, clinging to him.
Harry smiled and patted her back, then looked over his friends. "I'll take her out," he whispered to them and, when they nodded, turned back to Hermione and said, "Hey, 'Mione, let's go, hm? Before someone thinks I'm torturing you or something."
Hermione let out a weak laugh, but let Harry pull her to her feet and lead the way out of the hall. Ginny hurried after them, smiling reassuringly at those members of the DA who looked after the two seventh years in concern.
With Ginny's help, Harry was able to calm Hermione down enough for her to work on her homework a bit by the time the other Gryffindors returned from supper.
While Harry had been leaving the Great Hall, he'd felt concern through the link and he'd sent back what reassurances he could. With Hermione feeling calmer, he turned his attention to the link and sent an image of his friends being worried about him but him being okay. 'Nothing to worry about,' he thought.
'And yet, they still worry,' he heard in Tom's voice.
Harry jumped and opened his eyes, surprised. Was their link letting actual words through, or had he just spent so much time around the Dark Lord that his inner voice was starting to sound like him?
"Harry? You okay?" Ginny asked, her hand on his arm pulling him from his own thoughts.
Harry blinked at her, then nodded. "Uh, yeah. Just remembered something I have to do in my dorm." He stood and smiled at the worried faces looking up at him. "What's with all the long faces? I'm just fine."
"But, Professor Brutús..." Dean murmured.
Harry sighed and leant down, elbows on the table. "I've had all summer to get over it. I'm resigned," he admitted, then straightened again and hurried up to his dorm room before they could respond. He took a moment to breathe, then walked over to his bed and sat down on it, turning his attention to the link again. 'Tom?' he sent.
There was no answer from the other side, not even an emotion.
'Tom? Can you hear me?' Harry tried again.
Again, no answer.
Harry was just getting up to go back downstairs, giving it up as a figment of his own mind using Tom's voice, when he heard, 'Harry?' accompanied by a rush of cautious amazement.
Harry sat back down again, excitement bubbling in his throat in the form of a laugh. 'Yes! Hi!'
Amusement echoed through the link and Harry could almost hear Tom's laughter. 'This is an interesting development.'
'It's cool!' Harry shot back.
'You're such a Gryffindor,' Tom replied, but Harry could sense the Dark Lord's own excitement at a new thing to study. 'How long have you been able to hear me?'
'I only just realised it,' Harry admitted. 'I thought I was just hearing things for a minute, 'cause, well...you know how sometimes when you spend enough time around someone you've got a little internal voice that sounds like them and tells you what they'd say if they knew what you were up to?'
A sort of amused irritation came across the link from Tom. 'I know what you mean,' he agreed.
Harry wondered who the other would have talking in his mind, and a part of him hoped it was a little Harry Potter. But he pushed that away. 'Well, as cool as this is, I should go back downstairs before one of my friends comes looking for me.'
'Ah. What was that at supper, with Miss Granger?'
Harry smiled and shook his head. 'Gryffindor secret. Can't tell any Slytherins, lest you use it against us in some way.'
'Surely you don't think I'd use something against any of your friends?' Tom replied, voice sweet.
'Tom, I know you far too well to fall for that. I'll see you tomorrow morning.'
'Very well. And try not to let them get off track this time?'
'Oh, fuck you!'
Tom's mental laughter followed Harry back to his friends, where he settled in to work on his Care of Magical Creatures homework.
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Tuesday morning, Harry walked down to breakfast alone, since the rest of his friends had a free period after breakfast. Even Hermione, who would usually be up reading, was still asleep. However, Harry had only been sitting for about ten minutes when he found himself surrounded by those Gryffindor fifth years who had been in the DA. "Good morning?" he said to their grins.
What followed was forty-five minutes of the younger years asking him about their Defence professor, how Harry knew him, whether he'd be helping in their class too, what they'd be doing that day, and other such questions. For the most part, Harry tried to brush them off, but he wasn't entirely successful.
Finally, Marcus came down from the Head Table and gave the students an amused look. "Might I borrow Mr Potter?"
Harry was out of his seat before anyone could deny him his escape. "I'll see you all in class," he promised, then let Marcus lead him from the hall. "You couldn't have come to save me earlier?" he complained as they started up the stairs.
"You looked like you were having fun," Marcus replied with a smirk.
Harry grunted. "Bastard."
Marcus chuckled and let them into the classroom. "This class has already done their duel, so most of today is going to be spent discussing where things went wrong. Mostly, you can write what they say on the board."
"Now you're just being lazy."
"Someone has to keep an eye on the little blights."
Harry snickered.
Marcus shook his head, smiling. "Are you willing to help me demonstrate how to avoid some curses and how to respond in situations like the duel?"
"Sure," Harry agreed.
"Excellent!"
Harry gave the Dark Lord a suspicious look. "You're far too pleased. What are you planning, Marcus?"
"Nothing too damaging," Marcus promised, eyes still gleaming.
Harry made a mental note to be very careful when avoiding the Dark Lord's curses.
The class filed in and Marcus directed them to give their answers about what they'd done wrong to Harry to write out on the board while the professor set about returning their papers. Once they'd run out of ideas, Marcus gave them suggestions about how to avoid those mistakes in future and cast a few spells at Harry, which the seventh year smoothly avoided.
About ten minutes before class was to end, Marcus gave them their homework - look up two pure-light spells and find a way to use them in battle - then waved them off.
The next couple days passed slowly in much the same way as the week before, but Harry and Marcus were seeing each other regularly.
On Thursday morning, Harry and Marcus split up to help the students on a more one-on-one basis.
Harry was working with a couple of Slytherins when he heard someone behind him whisper, "Loš san," and his world spiralled into a nightmare.
Marcus' head jerked up the moment he felt the surprise, then fear from Harry. He saw, as if in slow motion, Harry crumpling to the floor and the two Slytherins he'd been helping reaching out to stop him, eyes wide.
And then he was up and hurrying over, casting the levitation charm and demanding, "What the hell happened?"
The Slytherins flinched away from him, and not a single member of the House would meet his eyes. Rather, it was a Gryffindor who sat near the two Slytherins Harry had been helping who said, "Sir, Harry just sort of froze up in the middle of a sentence and fell over. I don't know what happened." The boy grimaced. "Elliot and Graham didn't do anything I could see or hear," he added, clearly uncertain about protecting a couple of snakes, but not willing to let them be blamed for something they didn't do.
Marcus took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down and ignore the echoes of fear and pain from Harry's side of the bond. He needed to get Harry to the Hospital Wing. "Class dismissed," he ordered and, gently taking Harry's floating form into his arms from where he'd been levitating, hurried out of the classroom.
Poppy was surprised when Marcus hurried into the ward. "Marcus, what- Mr Potter!" she whispered and hurried over to where Marcus was already laying the too-still boy on a bed. "What happened?" Poppy demanded, even as she started casting diagnostic spells.
"I don't know," Marcus admitted, and he hated how helpless he felt. Here he was, a genius with a mental connection to Harry, and he had no idea what was wrong with the teen. It had happened in his class and he had no idea. He should have been there, should have protected Harry. He knew the Slytherins would be looking for a moment to hit the teen with something. And he'd let Harry over with them, all unknowing-
Poppy bodily shoved the professor into a chair next to the bed. "Head between your knees," she ordered before hurrying off to her potions cupboard.
Marcus did as she'd ordered, closing his eyes. As if from far away, his mind supplied that he was having a panic attack, and he forced his breathing to even out.
When Marcus felt more in control, he looked up at where Poppy was feeding Harry a potion. "Do you know what's wrong with him?" he asked, and hated that he sounded so desperate.
Poppy shook her head. "All I know is that he's asleep, and I can't get him to wake up." She put the empty potion vial down and frowned helplessly at the teen. "What did you see, Marcus?"
Marcus shook his head. "I fe- I heard a commotion and I looked up and he was just collapsing," he murmured, watching Harry's blank features, which were so at odds with the terror he felt echoing through the bond. "No one saw anything. At least, no one willing to come forward about it." He rubbed at his face. "I should have tried harder to get answers from them."
"There's no reason to go around torturing students," Poppy admonished, guessing Marcus' thoughts from the darkness in his eyes. "Mr Potter has pulled through far more than this in the past. He will pull through again."
Marcus just shook his head, watching the unnatural stillness of the teen.
Poppy pursed her lips at the non-response, then sighed and touched Marcus' shoulder, absently noting the way he flinched away from contact, just as Harry Potter always had; it wasn't the first time she'd caught him flinching, but he seemed able to suppress it if he wasn't distracted by something. "Marcus, I'm going to let Harry's teachers know that he won't be in class. Do you want me to ask around and see if someone will cover your next class?"
Marcus heard her as if from far away. His next class? What did a class matter when Harry was lying here, so afraid? Unconsciously, the Dark Lord reached out and took the teen's hand in his.
Poppy took the non-answer as a yes and went off to make the required fire-calls.
Marcus just sat there, needing to do something. He didn't like this inaction, didn't like being so useless. But what could he do if he didn't know what was wrong?
And then it hit him, rather like a brick wall: Maybe Harry knew what was wrong, and Marcus was probably the only one who could reach him in this state.
'Harry!' he mentally called, leaning forward and touching his forehead to the teen's as if it would help. 'Harry!'
Somewhere in the middle of his nightmares, Harry heard someone calling his name. Someone who hadn't been in that alley, with those boys. And, even as he re-lived that pain and self-disgust again, he reached out to that voice. 'Tom?' he whispered and shuddered at the fear in his mental voice.
Relief, so strong it pushed the fear away, echoed down the bond. 'Thank Merlin. Harry, do you know what happened? You just collapsed and no one heard anything.'
Harry wrapped himself in that voice, shoving away the memories. What was Tom asking? Oh, what had happened. Why was he here, in these nightmares? 'Someone cast a spell. I don't know who. It wasn't Latin-based, though.'
'Do you remember the spell?'
Harry felt another memory creeping up on him. 'The spell?' he whispered, fearing the nightmare just outside the protection he found in Tom. 'Loš... something...' And there, the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. A battle and Sirius, eyes wide with laughter and surprise.
'Loš san?' the Dark Lord asked, and his voice pushed the memory away.
'Yeah! Can you fix it?' Please fix it. Please save me. 'I'm scared...'
'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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A/N: Mehehehehehee.... XD
There was a brief debate in the FictionAlley Harry/Voldemort forum about whether or not Tom is actually a sociopath. According to the criteria in the DSM IV-TR, which I pulled out and read through, he has Antisocial Personality Disorder, which is often referred to as psychopathy or sociopathy. Of the seven criteria, he meets all but one in some form, and he needs to meet three to be diagnosed.
Just thought I should put that out there, before someone tries debating my claims. XD
~Bats ^.^x
Spell Explanations:
- Obretio -- meaning 'to entangle' in Latin. Entanglement Hex
A neutral hex which tangles a nearby object - usually the victim's clothing, but plants and drapery have also been used - around a person or object. The spell is meant only to keep a victim from moving, not to physically damage them. - Obligo -- meaning 'to bandage' in Latin. A bandaging spell
A light spell which uses a nearby fabric, often the clothing of the caster or patient, to bandage a wound. - Loš san -- meaning 'bad dreams' in Serbian. Curse of Nightmares
This dark curse acts somewhat like a dementor, dragging the victim into a coma-like state where they relive their worst memories. The only known way to break the spell is for the victim to focus on happy thoughts; outside influences cannot wake them from the nightmares. To all outside appearances, the victim is only sleeping, but they cannot be awakened.
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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