The Semblance of Peace, part 5
The trek back to Gryffindor was long and painful, and when Harry stumbled into his dormitory at last, his roommates were already up and about.
"Harry!" Neville was by his side at once. "Are you all right? You look awful."
"I'm a bit sick," Harry said. He had trouble breathing, and even though he'd never admit it, he was secretly glad Neville caught his arm and helped him to his bed.
Ron stared at him from the doorway to their bathroom, still dressed in his pajamas. He clearly looked torn between continuing his silent treatment and concern about his best friend's health.
"Did Snape poison you?" Ron asked. He sounded hesitant, as if he was trying to make a joke but had forgotten the punchline.
Harry shook his head as he toed off his shoes. Even that hurt. "No. It's just the flu."
"Maybe you should go to the infirmary," Ron tried, taking a few steps closer to Harry's bed.
"Been there already," Harry said. It seemed like a good lie, since he didn't feel like explaining why and how he'd spent the night in Snape's quarters. "Pomfrey said I needed some bed rest."
"All right." Ron turned towards his own bed and reached for his robes. "Do you want me to bring you some breakfast?"
"No, thanks. I just want some sleep." Harry didn't bother undressing any further, and crawled under the covers. "I'm really tired."
"We'll check up on you later," Neville said.
Harry didn't reply. He closed his eyes and was asleep in seconds.
*--*--*
It was midday when Harry woke up. Most of the pain was gone from his body, but his mind felt heavy and sluggish. He found a bowl of soup and a glass of pumpkin juice on his nightstand, probably left there by Ron or Neville after lunch. He ignored the soup, but downed the juice.
He lay back against his pillow and stared up at the canopy. He didn't feel like getting up. He didn't feel like doing much of anything. Perhaps sleep a little more. Sleep sounded really nice. The dormitory was quiet and deserted. As was his mind.
"Tom?"
No reply. What was that fucking bastard up to?
"You can't just ignore me like that," Harry said, though he knew very well there was little he could do to force Voldemort to talk to him. "I'm not feeling happy about this either, you know. It wasn't exactly pleasant being you for a night."
"Funny. I was about to say the exact same thing."
Harry smiled, despite the flashes of memories that chilled him to the bone. "Now you're being melodramatic. What's so horrible about being me?"
"For one thing, I'd like to know why your Muggle relatives are still walking around after the way they treated you. How can you live with the knowledge you never so much as gave them a slap on their wrists for what they've done?"
Harry blinked. He'd never considered that before. "Honestly? I don't care about my relatives either way. Yeah, they were a bunch of bastards, but -- "
"They locked you up in a cupboard for most of your childhood! They starved you! Have you any idea what that felt -- " Voldemort fell silent, and Harry got a flash of pain from his scar instead.
"Is that what this is all about?" Harry asked. He was too surprised to be annoyed. "You knew what had happened to me before, but you never knew what it felt like, and now you -- "
"Don't be ridiculous. As if I would allow myself to be overpowered by something as common and trivial as emotions!"
"Oh no, don't go backing up now." Harry sat up in his bed, feeling as if he was this close to catching the Snitch. "You were me, and you felt things you've probably never felt before, am I right?"
"You are delusional, boy."
"No, I'm not. So how did you enjoy losing your godfather? Grief's a bitch, isn't it? Or how about being tied down to a gravestone while your worst enemy comes back to life in front of your eyes. I bet you enjoyed mortal fear. Or how about seeing the girl you love snogging another boy. I hope that broken heart is working for you."
Sharp pain exploded from his scar and surged through his mind, and Harry was forced back, his eyes squeezed shut. But he knew he was right.
He laughed through the pain, and finally caught his breath enough to say, "Welcome to the human race, Tom."
Another flash of pain was the only response he got, but Harry couldn't care less. He laughed and laughed until he exhausted himself and sleep caught up with him.
*--*--*
It was very strange to have memories that weren't his own, Harry decided. It wasn't as if those new memories haunted him every waking minute; they were buried somewhere in his subconscious, like his own memories were. But whenever he tried to recall certain memories now, they were tainted.
He thought about the night his parents died, the memories that had surfaced every time he'd been confronted by a Dementor, and besides hearing his mother scream and beg for their lives, he felt Voldemort's victory and superiority. These new feelings and images were slick and painful, like boiling oil being poured over the memories he cherished the most.
It was evening now, and Harry still didn't want to get up. The idea of going out there, where everything could trigger a recollection that wasn't his own, was terrifying.
He was afraid of what he might feel once he saw his friends again. What if he looked at Ginny and felt nothing but contempt?
"We had an agreement, Harry. I expect you to keep it."
"Huh?"
"You're to stop whining about that girl, remember?"
Harry dropped his face in his hands. "I wasn't - it's all because of your bloody memories. I'm not exactly thrilled to know what it's like to be you."
"That feeling is mutual."
"Can't we reverse this? There must be something we can do."
"And risk Merlin knows what? There is no telling how we'd respond to potions or spells."
Voldemort had a point, but that didn't mean Harry had to like it. He dropped back onto his bed and stared up. "I've been you before, did you know that?"
"Do tell."
"Yeah, when you were in that snake that attacked Mr Weasley, and one time when you were talking to Rookwood right before you punished Avery. But I was dreaming at the time, sort of, and it was more like being inside a Pensieve. I didn't feel anything."
"That is what possession is like, Harry. You are not supposed to feel anything, otherwise you'd go mad."
Harry smiled at that. "So we're going mad now?"
"Seeing that you've been lying in bed in your clothes all day, I'd say you are well on your way, yes."
"Yeah," Harry agreed quite happily. If they were talking about weird stuff like this, he didn't have to think about all the things that were lurking inside him. "And you were insane to begin with. You can't get much madder than that."
"Watch your tongue."
"Right." He needed to distract himself. He needed to do things that wouldn't bring up any of the gruesome images and feelings. "Fancy a wank?"
"Not right now."
Harry sighed. Perhaps he should have a wank by himself. If he wanked, he wouldn't be thinking about his parents' death. The worst thing that could happen was that he thought about Snape, but that wasn't the end of the world.
"Ah, yes, my little Horcrux is a virgin no more."
"I can't believe I lost my virginity to Snape," Harry muttered. That was a bit of an uncomfortable thought.
"You were enjoying yourself. There is no point in denying it."
"It wasn't bad," Harry said. He ruffled his hair and bit his lip. "It was just strange because it was Snape. Before you decided to move into my head, I'd never even considered blokes before, let alone that greasy bastard."
"You could have done far worse than Severus."
Harry shrugged. Seeing that he regularly let Voldemort jerk him off, he really didn't know what constituted 'worse' anymore. "I can't believe Snape let me, though. He hates me."
"Severus likes to be fucked, and you're a desirable young man. Whether he hates you or not is really of no importance. You're too hung up on emotions. It was just sex."
"If you say so." Harry chuckled. "And I still can't believe you giving me advice on my sex-life. I don't think Dark Lords are supposed to do that."
"Dark Lords aren't supposed to watch Muggle movies with their enemies either, but there you go."
Harry laughed, and in between his guffaws he realized Voldemort probably needed distraction as much as he did. Fooling around was good. Laughing at lame jokes was even better.
"Yeah, or eat at McDonalds." Harry laughed even harder, and Voldemort chuckled. It warmed Harry's insides, as if he was suddenly lying close to a fire. "Why does that feel so good? You laughing, I mean."
"I do not laugh."
Harry rolled his eyes. "All right. You chuckling."
"I have no idea. Would you prefer a Cruciatus instead?"
"No." Harry snickered. "Hey, do you ever giggle?"
"I can't say I've ever attempted it, no."
"You should. I bet you sound really funny when you giggle."
"And you were wondering if you were going mad? I think you already are."
"Well," Harry said with a smile. "If this is madness, it's not so bad."
The door opened, and Ron and Neville entered. Harry inhaled a deep breath to compose himself.
"I brought you some treacle tart from dinner." Ron placed it on Harry's nightstand beside the untouched bowl of soup.
"Yeah, you should try to eat something, Harry," Neville said.
"Thanks, but I'm not really hungry right now. I think I'll try to sleep some more."
Neville cast Ron a worried glance, but Harry ignored them and turned on his side, his back to his friends.
*--*--*
Harry remained in bed the next day. He still hadn't changed his clothes, and he only got up to use the loo, and only because Voldemort made him. Harry was all for peeing in an empty glass, but Voldemort called it barbaric and more or less kicked him out of bed.
Ron brought him tea and toast after breakfast, and a couple of scones after lunch, but Harry had no appetite to speak of and ignored Ron's offerings.
Around dinnertime the door suddenly banged open and in barged Snape. Harry, who'd been dozing, sat upright at once and gaped at him.
"Potter, slacking the day away?"
"Harry," Ron panted, as he came up behind Snape. "We're so sorry. He overheard us in the Great Hall and marched right up to Gryffindor Tower."
"We couldn't stop him," Neville said from safely behind Ron's back.
Snape turned and glared at them. "Out."
Spluttering, Ron squared his shoulders. "You can't kick us out of our own dormitory!"
"No?" Snape whipped out his wand, and a second later something pushed Ron and Neville back into the corridor and the door fell shut with a forbidding clunk.
"Now, Potter," Snape said, turning back to Harry, wand still in his hand. "You have missed two days of classes. Care to explain?"
"Flu," Harry mumbled.
"You do not have the flu, Potter. Perhaps you'd like to try again?" Snape took a few steps closer to Harry's bed. And even though Harry had seen Snape naked and covered in semen, he still looked damned intimidating when he glared at Harry.
Harry shrugged. "I wasn't feeling well."
"You weren't feeling well yesterday, which is why I allowed you some rest and didn't report your absence to the Headmistress. However, you look fine this evening."
Where was Voldemort when Harry needed him? "Say something."
"My little Horcrux is depressed, Severus," Voldemort said.
Harry groaned. "I'm not depressed. I'm just...tired."
"Ah." Snape sneered. "Are you unable to cope with a few of the Dark Lord's memories? Are you too frail to suck it up and carry on?"
"I saw myself killing my parents, and I liked it!" Harry yelled, crawling to his knees. "And you expect me to just get over it?"
"Yes, that is exactly what I expect you to do, Potter." Snape grabbed the scruff of Harry's robes and pulled him out of bed. Harry hit the floor arse first and yelped. "Perhaps you still expect special treatment, hero that you are, but I will not allow you to spend the days wallowing in self-pity in your own filth."
Snape dragged Harry across the dormitory towards the bathroom.
"You can't do this." Harry tried getting to his feet, but Snape was faster and stronger. "I have - I am the Dark Lord!"
"If the Dark Lord has a problem with my conduct, I'm quite sure he'll let me know, Potter." Snape threw Harry into the bathroom, and Harry skidded to a halt in one of the shower stalls.
Harry grabbed the wall for balance. "This is none of your business, Snape!"
"I'm making it my business." Snape flicked his wand, and Harry's clothes disappeared. Another flick, and ice-cold water poured down on him. "Now wash yourself. You reek."
Teeth clattering, Harry opened the hot tap and reached for the shampoo. "It's all your fault," he said, lathering his hair. "You could have stopped him. You're his...I don't know...master or something."
"I do believe Severus had a good point. You were starting to reek."
Glaring at Snape, Harry rinsed his hair, and ran a bar of soap across his chest and groin. "Enjoying the view?"
"Quite." Snape leaned against the door post, obviously making himself more comfortable.
"I fucked you," Harry said. He ran a soapy hand up and down his cock. "That was me. Not Voldemort."
"And?" Snape curved one eyebrow.
"You liked it."
Snape gave a careless shrug. "As did you. You are of age, Potter. There are no rules against such behavior between a professor and a student who is of age, if that is your concern."
"It isn't." Harry reached around the shower stall and plucked his toothbrush and toothpaste from the sink. "But you hate me," he said, and brushed his teeth.
"Indeed." Snape smirked.
"Harry, I told you those feelings are of no matter to Severus. Forget about it, for pity's sake."
Harry raised his head towards the spray and rinsed his mouth. It just seemed strange that fucking Snape hadn't been all that strange. Fucking Snape had been distracting, though, and Harry still needed a good distraction. He shut off the taps and padded towards Snape, aware he was naked and dripping wet.
"I was just wondering if you cared to do it again," Harry said, looking up at Snape. He licked his lips. Snape stared down at him with narrowed black eyes, and that stirred something inside Harry and made his cock twitch.
"Here, Mr Potter?"
"Sure." Harry pressed himself closer until he felt Snape's robes brush his naked skin.
"Harry, kiss him already."
That wasn't bad advice, Harry reasoned, and he did just that. Snape responded at once, parting his lips and meeting Harry's tongue with his own. It was a little odd to kiss Snape now that he wasn't influenced directly by Voldemort's memories, but Snape wasn't a bad kisser at all. He was rough and firm and Harry sagged against him as he deepened their kiss even further.
Snape slid an arm around Harry and pulled him along into the dormitory. Harry moaned as Snape's thigh pressed against his naked cock. He felt Snape's lips curve up at that, and he folded his arms around Snape and grasped Snape's arse with both hands. That arse. He'd fucked that arse, and he was going to do it again.
They reached Harry's bed, and Harry drew back to gasp for breath. "The door?"
"Locked," Snape said, and brushed his lips down Harry's throat. "I doubt any of those Gryffindors can break it, save for perhaps -- "
The door banged open and in stormed Ron and Hermione, followed by Neville and Dean and Seamus.
"-- Miss Granger," Snape sighed.
"Get your hands off him, you pervert!" Ron cried, pointing his wand at Snape, who took a step back from Harry. "Don't worry, Harry. We won't let him hurt you. We'll tell McGonagall and Snape will end up in Azkaban where he belongs!"
"Ron," Hermione said, lowering her wand. "I don't think Snape was assaulting him."
Harry wanted to die. He really, truly wanted his life to end right there and then.
"Now, now, that seems a bit rash."
Ron's jaw dropped, and beside him Neville turned beet-red. And Harry glanced down his body, his very naked body, and noticed his hard cock. He stared up at Snape, who in turn was glaring at his friends. It seemed Ron had mobilized half their House, since more and more people filed in behind them.
"But..." Ron looked at Harry desperately.
"Er..." said Harry. "I'd rather do this without an audience, if you don't mind."
Snape snorted, and Voldemort laughed so loud it made Harry dizzy.
"Get dressed, Potter. We're going to see the Headmistress and inform her of our...intimate relationship." And with that Snape leaned over and planted a firm kiss on Harry's mouth.
"He can't - he has to - the Imperius Curse! That bastard cursed Harry!" Ron shouted. Hermione and Neville both grabbed one of Ron's arms and dragged him through the small crowd and out the door.
*--*--*
"Enter."
Snape pushed the heavy door to McGonagall's office open and ushered Harry inside. Harry still wasn't sure what they were doing there, but when he'd voiced his confusion earlier, Snape had merely ignored him and told him to come along.
"Severus, Harry, what can I do for you?" McGonagall asked, seated behind the desk that had once belonged to Dumbledore.
"Headmistress." Snape inclined his head, and tugged Harry further into the room. "Potter and I have an announcement to make."
"Yes?" McGonagall tilted her head. "Has this to do with the extra classes you're giving Harry?"
"Not quite. We thought it best if you heard it from us, instead of hearing from it through the rumor mill." Snape kept his hand on Harry's arm, and pulled him so close Harry was standing against his side.
"Well, get on with it."
Snape inclined his head again. "Potter and I are in a relationship."
McGonagall blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"A romantic relationship," Snape said. He sounded perfectly composed. Harry stared at the floor and felt his cheeks burn.
"Have you gone completely mad?" McGonagall rose from her chair, leaning both hands on her desk.
"Certainly not," Snape said. "You know there aren't any rules that forbid a relationship between a professor and a student who's of age."
"I am aware of the school rules, Severus. But you two can't be serious." McGonagall gestured helplessly at them. "You can't stand each other."
"We overcame our differences and learned we have quite a lot in common," Snape said smoothly.
"What can you two possibly have in common?" McGonagall's voice got higher and higher.
"Voldemort," Harry said, looking up at McGonagall for the first time. McGonagall's eyes widened.
"Harry! Watch your tongue!"
"We talked about Voldemort. I mean, he ruined both our lives, didn't he? We have that in common." Harry glanced up at Snape and wondered if that was enough to convince McGonagall. He wasn't sure. "Oh," he added. "And the sex is great."
McGonagall sat down at once. "That's quite enough, Mr Potter!"
"Sorry," Harry mumbled, though he wasn't really. Voldemort's chuckles echoed his own amusement at seeing McGonagall so flustered.
"Well." McGonagall folded her hands. "I know I cannot forbid this relationship, but I do want to urge you to reconsider it. Have you any idea how students might react to this? Or the staff? Or the Ministry, for that matter?"
"There is nothing the Ministry can do," Snape said. "We are two adult wizards who have willingly entered into this relationship. Unless they're suddenly planning to outlaw homosexuality, it is none of their business."
"But what am I to tell my staff, Severus? How am I to explain to the students one of their professors is...having relations with a boy half his age?"
"If you want me to resign, I will," Snape said. Harry didn't like that idea. Snape was the only one at Hogwarts who knew about him.
"Of course not! I had enough problems finding a Potions master in the first place." McGonagall sighed. "I am not pleased with this, but I am well aware it is not my decision. However, I ask you to keep all displays of affection confined to your private quarters, Severus."
"Certainly, Headmistress."
"And Potter, if your marks suffer from this, I will step in and find a way to terminate this - this display of insanity."
"They won't, Professor," Harry said. "I promise."
"You are dismissed!"
Snape pulled Harry along towards the door. They passed Dumbledore's portrait, and he gave them both a knowing wink. Harry quickly looked down and let Snape lead him out of the office.
"Now what?" Harry asked, once they stood in the deserted corridor. "I mean, are you my boyfriend now or something?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Potter," Snape said. He released Harry and smoothed down his robes. "Now no one will question the amount of time you spend alone with me. It is the perfect cover."
"I agree. Let the world believe you and Severus are committed to each other, and no one will bother us."
"He agrees," Harry said, and Snape nodded his understanding. "So...er...what do we do now?"
"Now you go back to your House and explain what is going on before I am faced with class after class of Gryffindors all convinced I have you under the Imperius Curse." Snape's lips curled up in a smirk. "Though I won't mind taking appropriate points for any false accusations made against me, of course."
Harry snorted. "Fine."
"Come to my office after breakfast tomorrow. We will resume our interrupted activities then." Snape brushed past Harry, his hand pressing against Harry's groin for a second. It made Harry shudder with both annoyance and arousal.
"He can be such a delightful little tease, our Severus."
"Yeah, when he's not being such a bastard," Harry muttered, and started on his walk back to Gryffindor Tower.
*--*--*
Harry was convinced something had gone terribly wrong in his life somewhere as he entered the common room. It was packed, and he was immediately assaulted with questions. Really, he felt like someone had plucked him from his own life and had dumped him into this twisted world where everything he did ended in a complete and utter disaster.
"So it's true, then," Dean asked. He was standing near the front of the crowd, which was why Harry could understand him. Everyone else's voices blurred together, sounding like a swarm of bees.
Harry nodded. "Yep, it's true."
"You're shagging Snape?" That was Seamus, and he sounded both horrified and fascinated.
"Yeah," Harry said. God, he really did not want to be there. He felt like a traitor and a pervert, having to confess his affair with Snape in front of his House.
"It could have been far worse, Harry. Image what your friends would say if they discovered you are playing host for Lord Voldemort."
Stop talking about yourself in the third person, Harry thought. It sounds ridiculous.
"This is a joke, right?" Ron had managed to step forward through the crowd, and he looked at Harry with pleading eyes. "You're queer now and you thought it would be fun to play a prank on us. You're shagging Snape. Very funny."
"I don't think Harry would snog Snape while he was naked just to play a prank on us," Neville said. Hermione nodded at that.
"It's not a joke. Sorry." Harry sighed. Wasn't it over yet? He'd answered their questions. He just wanted to go to bed, get some sleep, and hopefully wake up back in his own life, instead of this nightmare.
"But he's Snape!" Ron's ears were bright red, and his cheeks followed suit. "He's a greasy bastard!"
Harry shrugged. He couldn't disagree with that.
"And he's a Slytherin!" Ron made that sound like the worst of Harry's offenses.
"Your sister is shagging a Slytherin, in case you forgot," Voldemort said, and Harry wanted to strangle him for interfering yet again. He heard a sharp intake of breath from his right, and saw a flash of red hair as Ginny withdrew into the crowd.
"You're shagging Zabini?" Ron called after her. He glanced at Hermione with wide eyes. "I thought they were just snogging."
"This isn't about Ginny," Hermione said, placing a hand on Ron's arm. "This is about Harry. And Snape. Who are...together. Right?" She looked at Harry expectantly.
"Right," Harry said. He wasn't sure what more they wanted of him. "Look, McGonagall knows about it. It's not against any rules. And I'm all right with it."
"But Snape?" Ron's voice sounded very tight. "Are you sure you're not under some curse? Or a love potion! Snape's good with potions, after all!"
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not under any curse. And he didn't slip me a love potion, either. I'm not in love with him or anything. I just like the sex."
Ron gasped, as did several other people.
"You've got to understand this is a bit of a shock for us, Harry," Hermione said. She looked as if she was trying very hard not to smile. "You've never really indicated before that you were attracted to Snape. Or that you even liked him, for that matter."
"Snape's queer, too." Harry thought that explained everything.
"He's not the only queer at school," Ron said, and gestured to his right. "Colin's a faggot. You could shag him instead!"
Colin beamed at Harry and gave a little wave.
"Oh, surely not."
Harry rather agreed with Voldemort on that one. He wasn't even sure he'd have picked Colin over Snape, had someone forced him into that choice, before Voldemort had taken residence in his mind.
"I like shagging Snape. No offense, Colin."
"It's all right," Colin said, though his smile did waver a little.
"You've gone mad. Completely mad," Ron muttered, shaking his head.
Harry rather agreed with that, too, if he thought about it. "Well, I'm going to bed. Good night." He felt every eye in the room on him as he marched up the stairs.
*--*--*
"So, are you going to hang out with Snape today?" Ron asked the next morning, right after Harry opened his curtains.
"Yeah," Harry said. They needed to do research, but he couldn't tell Ron that. No, Ron was probably thinking they were going to shag all day. Great.
"Who says we won't?"
That would be me, the bloke who wants you out of his body, Harry thought, and shuffled towards the bathroom. Sure, a little shag wouldn't hurt, but Harry was well aware if they didn't do any research, Voldemort wasn't going anywhere.
He showered and got dressed, and ignored Ron's disappointed and accusatory glances, until he couldn't take it anymore.
"Stop it," he said, as he fished his trainers out from under the bed. "So I won't spend a Saturday with you. Big deal. Now you can go and snog Hermione all day without worrying about me tagging along."
Ron heaved a sigh. "But that's how I always thought it would be. Me and Hermione, and you and Ginny, and we'd all hang out on the weekend."
"Well, things change," Harry snapped. "I'm not seeing Ginny, and I prefer to shag blokes now."
"I know." Ron looked positively miserable. "It's just that I'd been looking forward to it."
Harry gritted his teeth. He knew how Ron felt, because he'd been looking forward to such a normal, simple life as well. But he couldn't say a bloody thing, and that frustrated him to no end. "Do you think it's been easy for me? That I'm having a jolly good time of it?"
"Harry! Do not force me to do something you will regret!"
Ron stared at Harry for a few moments. "What?"
Sitting down on the edge of his bed, Harry lowered his head. "I mean, it's not easy coming out in the national press, and then realizing you're attracted to Snape of all people. It's not the kind of life I had envisioned for myself, you know," he said, and meanwhile thought desperately, I'll fix it!
"See that you do, my little Horcrux."
"Ah. Yeah. I can see that." Ron scratched at his chin in an absent manner.
Harry wanted to get out of there, before he let something slip he couldn't fix. "Let's get some breakfast."
"Yeah." Ron followed him out the door, and they met Hermione in the common room. They walked down to the Great Hall together, and it soon became apparent the rumor mill at Hogwarts still moved faster than a Firebolt. Every student they met stared at Harry in complete disbelief. Except for a handful of Slytherins, who were singing something that started with "Harry the fairy likes shagging Snape". Harry couldn't make out the rest of it, because Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him along.
Things weren't much better once they found a seat at Gryffindor table. Every eye in the hall was on Harry, until Snape entered and sat down at the Head Table, and then everyone looked as if they were watching a Quidditch match; they glanced from Harry to Snape and from Snape to Harry and so on and so forth, as if expecting some public display of intimacy, or worse, love.
"Ignore them," Hermione said, and Harry realized that was the only thing he could do. Snape seemed to have adopted that strategy with success. He bit into a piece of toast while reading the front page of the Daily Prophet, seemingly unaware of all the attention.
"Harry, you must stop worrying about the rest of the world."
Harry snorted. Easier said than done. He spooned some eggs onto his plate. Across from him, Hermione paid an owl and accepted her copy of the Daily Prophet. She opened it, and her cheeks turned pink.
"Oh God, it's in the Prophet, isn't it?" Harry asked. Hermione folded the paper and gave Harry a bright smile. When Harry kept staring at her, it wavered.
"Yes," she said with a sigh. "They're calling it the romance of the year and they're asking readers to cast their votes for when the official bonding ceremony will be."
"At least they are not calling you mad this time."
Harry buried his face in his hands.
*--*--*
"Did you see the Prophet this morning?" Snape asked the moment his office door fell shut behind Harry.
Harry shook his head. "Hermione told me. That was enough for me."
Snape nodded, and Harry followed him to the sitting room. "I take it last night went well, seeing that Britain's finest reporters lauded our relationship as the romance of the year."
"Yeah, it went all right." Harry flopped down in one of the empty chairs and heaved a suffering sigh.
"You must forgive my little Horcrux, Severus," Voldemort said. "He has some trouble putting his emotions to rest."
"I am well aware of that." Snape sat down in the other chair. "I did attempt to teach him Occlumency, after all. A complete waste of my time, as it turned out."
Harry glared at Snape, but the effect was ruined as Voldemort started laughing. Those vibrating sounds tickled the back of Harry's throat until he sneezed. Snape observed him with an amused little smile. It irritated Harry to no end.
"Let's just do research. It's what we're here for," he said, and picked up the nearest book.
Snape's smile grew wider and looked more nasty than amused.
"What?" Harry snarled. "What the hell are you looking at?"
"I was merely observing you. I do believe I have never seen you this outmatched before." Snape leaned back in his chair and stared at Harry over his nose. "Nor have I ever seen you this defeated."
Harry looked down at the book in his lap. "It's not like I have a choice in this," he muttered.
"Of course you have a choice, Harry," Voldemort said. "You have already made it."
"Oh yeah, either play along or watch all my friends get possessed and killed. Great choice."
"But a choice nonetheless. You were right, my little Horcrux. We have much research to do." Voldemort opened his book, and Snape followed his example. Harry retreated to the back of his mind. He was tired and angry and irritated with Snape's observations, and in no condition to focus on strange translations of ancient Egyptian writing. Let Voldemort do the work.
Harry watched Snape from the corner of his eye. He hated the man. After what Snape had just said, he truly hated him, because Snape was right. And Harry hated to admit it. Voldemort did outmatch and outmaneuver him. With each new development, Voldemort backed Harry further and further into a corner. Harry wondered what would happen when his back hit the wall behind him. What would happen when Voldemort got his body back?
The only thing Harry knew - or at least strongly suspected - was that Voldemort wouldn't kill him. It would cost him a Horcrux if he did. But what would stop Voldemort from going after Harry's friends?
"Stop sulking, Harry. It's depressing."
"I'll bloody well sulk if I want to, thanks. It's one of the few things I can still do without you interfering." Harry rubbed his forehead, expecting his scar to burn, but no pain came.
"The sooner you stop sulking, the sooner I can concentrate on our research, and the sooner you'll be rid of me," Voldemort said. Snape glanced at them and muttered something about 'impossible teenage boys'.
"Yeah, well, you try having a Dark Lord camping in your mind and see how well you function," Harry said to Snape, who curved an eyebrow.
"The Dark Lord has been a part of my life for a very long time, Potter, longer than you have been alive, in fact." Snape placed his right hand over his left forearm. "And yet I never allowed myself to wallow in self-pity because of it."
"Yeah, you saved that for what my dad and Sirius supposedly did to you," Harry muttered.
Snape narrowed his eyes. "I am still your Professor, Potter, and you will address me with proper respect!"
"Funny. According to the Prophet, you're my fiancé."
"Enough!" Voldemort bellowed. Snape lowered his eyes at once. "Harry, get yourself back under control before I make you. You want this situation resolved, then let us do our research."
"Fine," Harry said. "And then what? You get your body back, and then what happens?"
"That is a discussion for another day." Voldemort turned back to his book.
"Just make sure that day comes soon," Harry said. Voldemort didn't respond, but turned a page and kept reading.
*--*--*
The steady accumulation of new problems in Harry's life finally seemed to level off during the next few weeks. Certainly nothing new happened that made any of the problems Harry already had worse, which counted for something.
He went to classes and did well in them, partially thanks to Voldemort's assistance, and partially because classes offered a perfect distraction. He let Voldemort and Snape do their research, and even tried to help but he was forced time and again to admit it didn't make much sense to him. He and Voldemort fucked Snape on most occasions they met in Snape's quarters. And when they didn't visit Snape, Voldemort jerked Harry off in his bed, usually after they'd spent some time talking about both important matters and trivial happenings at Hogwarts.
Most students still gave Harry odd looks, but at least the Slytherins stopped singing their 'Harry the fairy' song after Snape caught them and, probably for the first time in history, took 50 points from Slytherin and assigned a few detentions.
September came to an end, and October announced itself with chilly mornings and heavy rain, turning most Quidditch practices into mud-baths. Voldemort was not amused, but Harry refused to give up Quidditch. It seemed like the only thing he had left that was really his own. Everything else he shared with Voldemort, whether he liked it or not.
He still didn't much like Snape, but he enjoyed the sex. He wasn't sure what he thought about Voldemort anymore. Yes, Voldemort was his enemy. Yes, Voldemort had killed his parents. Yes, Voldemort had few morals and no guilt. But Voldemort was always there, and it was hard to hate someone when you spent most of the day talking with them, even joking with them, and getting off with them.
Harry was slick with sweat and slightly out of breath as he lay beside Snape after a particularly vigorous shag. Harry often stayed for a while, basking in the after-glow, but he never spent the entire night in Snape's rooms. Snape seemed fine with it. He was stretched out beside Harry, sounding just as out of breath.
Frowning, Harry glanced at Snape. "I think he's asleep."
Snape stared at the ceiling and gave a mirthless chuckle. "If that is what you think, Potter, you truly have no idea who you are sharing a body with."
"He's quiet," Harry said, worrying his lip. "He's never quiet after...you know." He gestured between them. Yes, he could shag Snape like there was no tomorrow, but he still had trouble talking about it with him.
"Mr Potter, I am quite sure the Dark Lord would enjoy nothing more than listening in on one of your conversations while you're convinced he can't hear you."
"True," Harry said. He scratched at his chest. "Besides, even if he were asleep at this moment, he could always just pull up my memory of any conversation at a later date."
"Indeed." Snape ran both hands across his face, and then stretched his arms over his head. He held them there for a moment, as though he was thinking about getting up. He dropped his arms beside his body and yawned.
Harry watched him, not for the first time realizing it wasn't odd to see Snape naked anymore. He was used to it now. Used to seeing Snape naked, and used to feeling Snape's naked body beneath his own.
"What do you think will happen when he gets his body back?" Harry asked. It was the only thing Voldemort still refused to talk about, and with every passing day Harry grew more and more impatient about getting a proper answer.
"Honestly? I don't know, Potter."
"Who's going to lead the Order when Voldemort returns? Moody replaced Dumbledore last year, but Moody's dead, too."
Snape pursed his lips and still didn't look at Harry.
"And what about the Horcruxes? I'm a Horcrux now, so we know of one at least, but what about the others? How do we -- "
"Potter, be quiet!" Snape turned his head and glared at Harry. "It is none of our concern at this time."
"None of our concern?" Harry sat up and stared at Snape in disbelief. "Of course it's our concern. We're the only ones who know he's still alive, so we're the only ones who can stop him once and -- " Harry's scar burned so badly he collapsed back against his pillow, grasping at his head.
"I gather he is awake?" Snape asked. He sounded amused, the bastard. Harry gave a pained nod.
"Harry," Voldemort said. "What am I to do with you? Here I hold my tongue for five minutes and you go scheming my downfall. You disappoint me, my little Horcrux."
"What else do you expect me to do?" Harry asked. He blinked his eyes open once the pain leaked away. "You won't answer my question! What is going to happen when you get your body back?"
"Now is not the time," Voldemort said patiently.
Harry sat up again. "Now is the time, Tom. I'm sick and tired of you evading my question."
"Potter, use your brain," Snape said, pushing himself upright as well. "You're a Horcrux. What has the Dark Lord been doing with his Horcruxes so far?"
Narrowing his eyes, Harry stared at Snape. He knew the answer, but he didn't want to say it. "Keeping them safe," he whispered.
"Exactly. And how do you suppose the Dark Lord will keep a Horcrux which can walk and think for itself safe?"
"He'll have to watch me." Harry swallowed. "He'll have to keep me by his side."
"Thank you for finally proving you are not a complete idiot after all." Snape released a deep sigh.
"He's not going to let me go, is he?" Harry's stomach turned, and he swallowed again. "Even if he gets his body back, he's not going to leave me alone."
"Why don't you ask him?" Snape arched an eyebrow in a silent dare.
"Tom? Talk to me." Harry hunched, gripping at the sheets beneath him. "Tell me, dammit!"
"Don't act so surprised, Harry," Voldemort said. "You are not a stupid boy, no matter what Severus may claim. You have known this for a while now."
"Tell me!"
"I will keep you alive and safe, my little Horcrux."
"You fucking bastard!" Harry jumped up from the bed and threw his pillow against the far wall. "You promised!"
"I never promised you that," Voldemort said, and Harry hurled himself at the wall, banging his fists against it. "We made a deal. You help me get my body back, and I will leave your little friends alone. I never said anything about leaving you alone."
"I will kill you!" Harry screamed, and wanted to kick against the wall, but Snape wrapped his arms around him from behind, and dragged him back to bed.
"You cannot kill me. You know this."
"I'll find a way, I swear!" Harry struggled against Snape, but Snape pushed him onto the mattress and spooned against him, keeping his limbs from flailing.
"Harry, there isn't a way. Accept it. I will keep you safe. I will treat you like a friend. I enjoy your company. And you enjoy mine, there is no denying that."
Harry panted against the sheets, finally getting himself back under control. "All right," he said. "So you keep me as your little pet, you bastard. Then what?"
"Potter, stop it," Snape said, releasing some of his hold on Harry. "You got your answer."
"If I'm going to be his little friend for the rest of his life, I think I have a fucking right to know what he plans on doing with it!" Harry wrestled away from Snape and crawled towards the headboard. He leaned against it, trying to catch his breath. "Tell me, Tom!"
"You know what I want," Voldemort said. "My goals and desires haven't changed."
"Immortality. But you have that. And power. You want power. What kind of power?"
Voldemort kept quiet, and Harry squeezed his eyes shut.
"He wants to rule Britain, Potter. That much is obvious," Snape said, sounding tired. He sat beside Harry.
"All right." Harry nodded, trying to gather his thoughts through the raging currents that were his emotions. "You want to rule Britain. You'll want to start with the wizarding world, and when you conquer that, I'm thinking you'll move onto the Muggle world, right?"
"I have considered it," Voldemort said.
"And you'll go about it in the exact same way as before, yes?"
"Of course."
Harry snorted. "Well, it's a stupid plan."
"Potter!" Snape stared at Harry in disbelief. "Watch your tone!"
"Hey, Tom's been in my head for months now. He's used to my tone." Harry licked his lips and inhaled a deep breath. "Now let me tell you why it's a stupid plan. People aren't going to let you. Let's say you conquer the wizarding world and you crown yourself emperor or whatever."
Voldemort laughed, but Harry ignored him.
"So you move onto the Muggle world. Let's say you are more powerful than Britain's Muggle army, which I doubt. You can't die, but they sure as hell can blow you to tiny bits with a tank."
Snape buried his face in his hands and shook his head.
"But let's say you rule Britain. Do you honestly think the rest of the world is going to let you? Do you really think billions of Muggles around the globe are going to let some maniacal wizard commit genocide on Muggles?" Harry paused, but as expected, Voldemort didn't reply.
"I'll tell you what they'll do. The United Nations or America or whomever are going to take the biggest nuclear bomb they can find and drop it right on your head. Remember Armageddon, Tom? Yeah, expect one of those fuckers deposited on your lawn. You won't stand a chance, and you'll take all of us with you, you fucking bastard!"
"That is enough," Voldemort said softly.
Harry leaned his head against the wall and gasped for breath. Was he hyperventilating? Possibly. He wasn't sure what he was feeling. He was thinking of killing himself, but he didn't want to die. He was thinking of telling the world Voldemort wasn't dead, but he didn't want his friends to die. He was thinking of just going along with Voldemort quietly, but he wanted a life of his own. A life that was worth living.
"You've got a second chance, Tom," Harry said. His cheeks were wet, and he wiped at them irritably. "Do you realize that? You've got a chance to do it over, and do it right this time."
Snape lowered his hands and looked at Harry with wide eyes.
"What are you saying, Harry?" Voldemort asked.
"I'm saying that people believe you dead for real this time, present company excluded. For as far as I know, there is no one out there who is expecting you to come back. So when you do get your body back, you can do something different this time."
"Harry," Voldemort said with a chuckle. "Do you expect me to change my spots? Do you think I'll get a quiet job at the Ministry and run for Minister for Magic in a few years?"
Harry shook his head. "No, I know you won't change that much. But you can get power in different ways. This whole business we're researching now, Soul Magic, and all the other stuff you've been telling me about. You're an expert on that. Probably the only one in existence. And not all of it is Dark, and even some of what is considered Dark isn't really. You could bring that information out into the open. An expert on the kind of magic that has been lost for so many generations would be the most powerful wizard in the world."
Silence followed, only interrupted by Harry's ragged breaths. He wiped sweat off his brow and tears from his cheeks, and waited for Voldemort's verdict.
"I will consider it," Voldemort finally said, and Harry released a breath that seemed to come from his toes.
"Thank you," he whispered. He glanced at Snape, and Snape grasped Harry's cheeks with both hands and pressed a long, hard kiss against his lips. It made Harry grin.
"Don't get your hopes up just yet, my friends," Voldemort said. "I will not allow someone else to dictate my life."
"I know," Harry said. He kept grinning at Snape, who seemed very close to smiling himself. "But it's not a bad plan."
"I certainly have heard worse, my little Horcrux."
*--*--*
The next evening they were back to research as usual. Harry hadn't brought up his new plan for Voldemort's future again; he was well aware Voldemort wasn't the kind of bloke you could force into making a decision. Harry knew he had to be patient, yet he also knew he was right. If Voldemort went on as before, none of them stood a chance in the end.
They sat in their chairs with a pot of steaming tea between them and opened books in their laps. Both Snape and Voldemort were reading, while Harry composed his Charms essay in the peace and quiet of this mind. That way, he only needed to write it down when he returned to his dormitory later.
"My Lord," Snape said, breaking the hour-long silence. "I think...yes, this seems highly relevant."
Voldemort got up at once and stood beside Snape's chair. Harry forgot the last sentence he'd been constructing, and it had been a good sentence, too. Sighing, he looked down to see what all the fuss was about.
"Here, see? A clear reference to binding the three elements of Sekem." Snape pointed at a paragraph in his book. "Lion bile, vulture claws, and," Snape frowned, "elephant dung."
Harry started snickering, but was cut off when Voldemort said, "I believe you are correct, Severus."
"You've got to eat elephant dung?" Harry asked, and laughed.
"Potter, hold your juvenile tongue. These are potions ingredients," Snape snarled.
"Besides, were I to ingest it, it will be through your mouth, Harry," Voldemort said. Harry stopped laughing at once.
"I'll purchase these ingredients and test the potion again," Snape said. "When can you obtain the vessel itself?"
"Whenever you believe the potion ready," Voldemort said. He sat back down. "It's merely a case of collecting it. I know where it is kept."
Snape inclined his head.
"So who was this Sekem bloke, anyway?" Harry asked, in an attempt to show some interest in the situation.
Snape stared at him and released an exasperated sigh.
"Sekem is not a person, Harry," Voldemort said. He obviously had a lot more patience than Snape. "The Egyptians believed the human soul is divided in seven parts. Sekem is one of them, and it represents the energy, power and light of a person."
"Ah," Harry said, feeling just a little stupid. "Is that why you split your soul into seven pieces?"
"And finally he proves he's been paying some attention," Snape said, shaking his head, as if he couldn't quite believe it. Harry glared at him, but as usual it had little effect on Snape, who glared right back at him.
"Yes," Voldemort said. "That is why seven is the most powerful number when it comes to Soul Magic."
"That makes sense." Harry tilted his head and looked Snape up and down. "So can we have a celebratory shag now?"
Snape threw a Potions magazine at him, while Voldemort chuckled in a way that melted Harry's bones, yet hardened his cock.
*--*--*
"Tom?" Harry turned on his back and kicked off his sheets. He couldn't sleep. Now that they were one step closer to getting Voldemort a body, there were so many questions that haunted him.
"Hmm?"
"I was just thinking," Harry said.
"I can tell by my lack of sleep."
"Ha, ha. Seriously. When you get your body back, I don't suppose...er...I mean -- "
"Spit it out, Harry."
"You're not going to let me be an Auror, right? When you keep me, I mean." Harry sucked his bottom lip between his teeth.
Voldemort remained silent for a moment, as if considering things carefully. "Why do you want to become an Auror in the first place?"
"Er..." Harry frowned. He'd never actually thought about it. "I'm not sure. It seems like the right thing to do."
"Ah. You believe you should become an Auror."
"Well, I've spent most of my life either running from or hunting down this Dark Lord. You might have heard of him. Nasty chap."
Voldemort chuckled. "So now you blame me for your poor career choice."
Sighing, Harry turned on his side and plucked at his pillow. "I don't know what else to do with my life."
"What do you believe I will do with you once I get my body back, Harry? Do you believe I will lock you in a golden cage? Or a cupboard, even?"
"Well," Harry said, and he fell quiet. To be honest, he'd tried to avoid thinking about that particular consequence of helping Voldemort.
"I have no interest in keeping you a prisoner for the rest of our lives."
"But you're not going to give me a life of my own, either."
"We are connected in more ways than one, my little Horcrux. I believe it is time you accept that no matter what you or I do, you will never have a life of your own."
Harry didn't want to accept that, no matter how right Voldemort was. He didn't want to accept that, even if he should get away from Voldemort at some point, he'd always be connected to him and that their paths would most likely cross often for as long as they lived.
"I prefer you make this decision on your own, and that you join me of your own free will. It would make both our lives more pleasant. However, I am not above forcing you, as well you know."
Harry snorted. "Yeah, I know." He was well aware Voldemort wanted him to choose to be by his side. Harry wasn't too keen on the idea, but he realized it did give him an advantage.
"I want to make a new deal. Another deal," he said, sitting up in his bed.
"And what deal would that be?"
"When you get your body back, you do as I suggested. Start a new life. Give up the whole world-domination idea. Leave Britain. Go study all that ancient magic you like so much abroad."
"That is a lot to ask of me. What can I expect in return?"
"I'll stop trying to kill you."
"Oh, how generous of you." Voldemort's laughter warmed Harry's chest.
Harry slammed his fist down against the mattress. "Stop it! I'm serious. I'll stop trying to kill you. I'll come with you. Willingly." Harry swallowed. "I'll let you keep me."
"That certainly in an intriguing offer."
"Well?" Harry lay back down. He was suddenly cold, and he pulled the sheets up to his chin.
"I want some time to consider it."
Sighing, Harry closed his eyes. "You have until you get your body back. I want an answer before then."
"Agreed."
*--*--*
Harry was in much better spirits the following day. Even though he hadn't yet received an answer from Voldemort, he felt like he was finally getting some control back over the whole mess that was his life. He'd offered Voldemort a good deal, and he was quite certain Voldemort would accept it. And his life, while not being perfect, would be all right. There wouldn't be another war. People would be safe.
He left Gryffindor Tower early in the evening and strolled down to the dungeons. Perhaps Snape had already purchased the new ingredients. That was good news. And good news, as Harry had learned, meant good shags.
As he neared the Entrance Hall, someone stepped out of an empty classroom and grabbed his arm.
Harry whipped around, while Voldemort already reached for his wand. They were getting good at team work.
"Ginny!" Harry stared at Ginny's distraught face. "What's going on?"
"I need to talk to you," Ginny said, and pulled him into the classroom. "In private."
Harry frowned, but allowed Ginny to close the door. He hadn't talked to her since their brief exchange on the Hogwarts Express. He still missed her, but it was getting easier. Regular sex proved a great medicine to heal all matters of the heart.
"Are you all right?" he asked. Voldemort still had Harry's hand around his wand inside the pocket of his robes. Let's just see what she wants, Harry thought.
"I am merely being careful. It is a useful quality to have."
"Yeah, I'm okay," Ginny said. She stepped a little closer to Harry. "It's you I'm worried about."
A shiver ran down Harry's spine. "What do you mean? I'm fine."
Ginny narrowed her eyes. "I know you, Harry. You're not fine."
"All right," Harry said, trying to sound carefree. "Then tell me what is wrong with me, because the last time I checked, I was doing okay."
"Ron and Hermione won't believe me," Ginny said. She leaned back against a desk and gave Harry a pleading look. "But they don't see what I see."
Harry felt his fingers tighten around his wand. He shook his head. "Is this about me being gay, Ginny? Because I'm really sorry about not saying anything to you and hurting you."
"No. This is about you spending so much time alone, or with Snape -- "
"So it is about me being gay," Harry said. He didn't like where this conversation was going, and he needed for Ginny to leave him alone. "Look, I'm really sorry, but I enjoy spending time with Snape, and --"
"It's about you staring off into space at the oddest moments. It's about you acting differently. It's about you saying these things I know you would never say. I know you, Harry, and you're not being you."
Harry sneered and marched towards the door. "I offered you my apologies, but apparently that's not enough for you, and really, that's not my problem."
"I know what it's like to be possessed, Harry!"
Harry's eyes fell shut. Fuck! His wand was in his hand, aimed at Ginny. Don't, he thought.
"She leaves me no choice but to alter her memory, Harry."
"Ginny," Harry said, forcing air past his vocal chords while Voldemort tried to silence him. "Run! Get out of here! Apparate to the Ministry! Go to Percy! Stay the -- " His breath was cut off, and Harry was forced to watch himself walk closer and closer to Ginny, who stared at him with wide eyes.
"Harry?"
"No. Harry is unavailable at the moment."
Ginny's flushed cheeks paled, and Harry threw himself against the boundaries inside his mind. Don't you fucking dare!
"You should have minded your own business, girl. You see, I will go to great lengths to keep Harry and myself safe. Don't," Voldemort said, as Ginny's hand moved towards the pocket where she kept her wand. "There is nothing you can do but allow me to take a little peek in your mind to see who else you have told of your suspicions."
Tom, don't you fucking dare hurt her!
Voldemort smiled, and touched the tip of Harry's wand to Ginny's chin.
"This will be easier if you do not interfere, Harry."
And Harry fell into darkness. He fell and fell and fell until he knew no more.
*--*--*
Harry woke up to a strange sense of déjà vu. He was standing in an enormous room with high pillars entwined with stone snakes, and there, at the foot of Slytherin's immense statue, lay a still figure with flaming red hair face-down on the floor.
"What did you do to her?" Harry rushed towards Ginny and dropped to his knees beside her. He rolled her over and stared into wide, lifeless eyes. "Oh, fuck. No! You fucking bastard, no!"
"I tried to alter her mind, Harry. I tried removing her memories that led her to those conclusions about you. But her knowledge of possession, of me, was too far ingrained in her mind. Had I removed all those memories, there would have been nothing left of her personality. It was easier this way."
"You killed her!" Harry slammed his fists down on the floor beside Ginny's dead body. "You fucking killed her! We had a deal!"
"We still have a deal. As long as your friends do not find out about us, they are perfectly safe."
"You call this safe?" Harry yanked his glasses off and buried his face in his hands.
"I know you do not appreciate my effort, but I was doing it to keep us safe, Harry."
"Don't give me your bloody excuses. I'm sick and tired of your excuses why you have to kill anyone who gets in your way." Harry lowered his hands and stared at Ginny's face. Her lips were purplish. "You're never going to stop, are you?"
"There was no other way. She would have betrayed us both."
Harry sprung to his feet. "I was willing to give you my life, you fucking bastard! I was willing to give you everything! And this is what you do?"
"A life for a life, Harry. Consider the life-debt you owe me paid."
Harry's jaw dropped. "What?"
"I saved your life, remember? I accept this as payment. A life for a life."
"I am done with you!" Harry turned on his feet, intent on stomping straight out of the Chamber, but Voldemort stopped him. "No more deals. No more, Tom. See if you can keep your precious Horcrux safe from now on."
"Harry, do not force me to keep you locked up in your own mind until I get my body back. She would have betrayed us both. This was the only way to keep us safe."
Harry clasped his hands over his ears and pulled on his hair. Guilt washed over him in cold waves until he felt he couldn't breathe anymore. He'd saved Ginny years ago. He thought he could keep his friends safe now. It was all his fault for not fighting Voldemort, for believing he could save them all.
"It is not up to you to save the entire world. It wasn't even up to you to save this girl."
"You killed her," Harry whispered. "I will never forgive you for that."
"I know."
Harry's shoulders shook. "You killed her."
"I made it quick. She did not suffer."
"You killed her."
"Your other friends are safe. She didn't tell them about her suspicions, only that she worried about you."
Tears dripped from Harry's eyes, and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. "You killed her."
"No one can know about this. You did not meet her this evening. You spent the entire time in Severus' quarters. We will leave her body here. She will merely be reported missing, and teenage girls are notorious for running away at the drop of a hat."
Harry slowly looked up, his eyes burning and his cheeks raw. "Leave her here?"
"Of course. No one will find her here. The only two people in the world able to open the Chamber of Secrets are you and I, Harry."
"No." Harry shook his head. "You're not leaving her here to just...rot." Pressing a hand over his mouth, Harry swallowed back the bile that rose up from his stomach.
"Do not try my patience in this!"
"Your patience?" Harry spat. "I don't give a fuck about your patience, Tom. Not anymore."
"She should have died here years ago! You merely extended her little life with a few years, but you did not change her fate!"
"Her life did not belong to you!"
"And neither did it to you! It was not yours to save, Harry."
"I'm through with this," Harry said. He picked up his glasses and looked at Ginny one last time. "I'm through with you, Tom."
Let Voldemort try to keep him safe and alive. Harry was determined to fight and win, no matter what it took. He turned to walk back towards the entrance, but Voldemort took control of his body and stalked towards the statue. There was a small door hidden behind one of the stone legs. Voldemort opened it with a tap of Harry's wand.
"We are going to see Severus. Perhaps he can talk some sense into you."
I hate you, Harry thought, as Voldemort walked through a narrow, dark corridor.
"I know."
Part 6