Ok, first off, I know I said I was waiting until BLACK COMPLICATION was finished before starting a new fiction, but obviously I'm not.
Secondly, my poll seems like such a waste of time now, doesn't it? Since HUSH LITTLE BABY was the one winning, but it isn't the one I wrote.
I am really sorry, but this one is the one that I seem motivated to write. I did start the second chapter of BC, and I even did some more of it today but then I decided to make a banner of INDELIBLE and then I wanted to start the chapter. I have scenes from some of the chapters floating in my head and I really want to get them down.
I will update BC soon, and when INDELIBLE is finished, I'll do HLB… ok? Sorry, it's not very democratic, is it?
Go look at my profile page for the BANNER!
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I can safely say that none of the Harry Potter franchise belongs to my person, as much as I regret that fact. If they were mine there'd be a lot more slash and angst… and pain XD and Ginny would die a horrible death… I hate HP&DH! The start of the first chapter is taken from Chapter 17 of CoS.
Title: Indelible; (of a mark) unable to remove or wash away; to be marked – I'm referring both to Harry's scar, and the fact that he is now seen, or marked, as a murderer.
Summary: [LV/HP Ginny died in the Chamber of Secrets and only Harry and Tom know how it really happened; not to mention the fact that Harry can hear Tom in his head. Dumbledore sends Harry to Azkaban. I suppose Voldemort will have to find another way to get his body back. When he does, will Harry join him, or will he go back to those who betrayed him? He has to choose: it won't be easy for him to hide when he escapes, especially with that mark on his forehead and a pet Grim named Snuffles. AU.
Warnings: Slash. LV/HP. TMR/HP. AU. Underage/Chan. Solo. Dub-consent. Mild HP/DM. Insane, Dark, Split-personality Harry. Character Death. Violence. Language. No PoA, GoF, OotP, HBP. Takes place at the end of CoS.
Rating: R/NC-17 SLASH!!
A/N: Evildime said they wanted to see an Azkaban fic from me, and while I desperately tried to refuse… this came to me (honestly) 5 minutes after I declined. Then I had to agree. I blame the dust bunnies under my bed; I need to Hoover.
ITALICS – Tom talking in Harry's head.
BOLD – Harry talking in Harry's head.
NORMAL – either taking out loud.
Chamber of Death
The Basilisk lunged again, and this time its aim was true. Harry threw his whole weight behind the sword and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the serpent's mouth. But as warm blood drenched Harry's arms, he felt a searing pain just above his elbow. One long, poisonous fang was sinking deeper and deeper into his arm and it splintered as the Basilisk keeled over sideways and fell, twitching, to the floor. Harry slid down the wall. He gripped the fang that was spreading poison through his body and wrenched it out of his arm. But he knew it was too lat. White-hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from the wound. Even as he dropped the fang and watched his own blood soaking his robes, his vision went foggy. The Chamber was dissolving in a whirl of dull colour.
A patch of scarlet swam past and Harry heard a soft clatter of claws beside him. He felt the bird lay its beautiful head on the spot where the serpent's fang had pierced him. Thick, pearly tears were trickling down the glossy feathers. Harry felt drowsy. Everything around him seemed to be swimming.
"So ends the famous Harry Potter," said Riddle's distant voice.
If this is dying, Harry thought, it's not so bad. Instead of going black, the Chamber seemed to be coming back into focus. A pearly patch of tears was shining all around the wound – except there was no wound.
"Phoenix tears," said Riddle quietly, staring at Harry's arm. "Healing powers… I forgot."
Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes soared back overhead and something fell into Harry's lap – the diary. Harry seized the Basilisk fang on the floor next to him and plunged it straight into the heart of the book. There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then…
There was a sharp pain in Harry's hand, and he frowned as he looked down. Blood was oozing out of a long, thin cut down the palm of his right hand. The diary, as well as stained with ink, now had a long line of Harry's blood marring the edge of the pages. Suddenly his head felt too heavy, like he was very, very tired and wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and rest. His ears were ringing, a light tinkling sound, filling his head until it got louder and louder and LOUDER and Harry just had to press his hand to his ears and scream to drown out the ringing.
He was screaming so loudly that he missed the sound of Ginny Weasley waking up. She stirred and sat up with a gasp. She winced as the sound of Harry reached her ears, and hesitantly she began to crawl towards him.
He could hear someone. Telling him to be quiet, telling him to lie down and relax. Telling him to trust him, because He would take care of Harry now. "Rest Harry, you were so brave. You must be tired." Harry tried to protest. He stopped screaming, but the ringing was still there and he whimpered. He had to save Ginny. "I'll take care of her. Rest Harry. Trust me Harry." So Harry did.
"H-Harry?" She whispered, tapping her brother's best friend on the arm. "Are you ok?"
Harry felt like he was floating. He was lying, somewhere, anywhere, on a cloud and he was just floating along. But he moved his head to face the person who had just spoken. He couldn't remember who was speaking, and he couldn't really hear them – it was like static, or background noise, or listening to some one having a conversation on the phone with someone else. But he also knew, that it wasn't him who had moved his head. It couldn't have been him, because he was floating on a cloud. He felt so relaxed, and safe, and there was a small voice in the back of his mind – a familiar voice – that told him everything would be alright if he just stayed on his cloud.
"Of course, my dear Genevra, I'm absolutely marvellous." Said Harry's body. "Well, Marvolo at any rate." And Tom Riddle laughed at his own, bad, joke. Ginny clamped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming as her brown eyes met crimson red ones. "Now, dear Ginny. I'm not very sorry to say that I will have to kill you." Ginny gasped, and Harry's face was distorted by the coldest, evilest smirk that Tom could manage. "Oh but Ginny, I couldn't have you running back to tell anyone."
Unknown to Tom, Fawkes had already left the Chamber to inform Albus Dumbledore. The Headmaster of Hogwarts was a rather manipulative man. Most of the time he liked to manipulate people into doing things to suit himself, people such as Harry. While Harry was an unwilling hero, Dumbledore was the man to lead him into position as it were. If it hadn't have been for Dumbledore, Fawkes would never have turned up and Harry would have died, and not saved Ginny. However, Dumbledore had never imagined Tom Riddle gaining possession of Harry's body.
So, while Fawkes was informing Dumbledore that it was safe to rescue the children from the Chamber and shower Harry with praise, Tom Riddle raised the wand that belonged to the trembling red haired girl sitting on the floor. With a smirk, Harry's voice screamed out, "Avada Kedavra," and in a flash of green light Ginny was dead.
Tom laughed, coldly, but it just didn't sound right when his laughed using Harry's voice.
"Harry, can you hear me?" Tom asked, folding his arms across his chest and waiting with as much patience as he could scrounge up.
"Hello? Can you hear me? Who are you?" Harry asked. He sat up, and suddenly his cloud was gone. Instead he was standing in a room, which looked a little like the Chamber of Secrets if it had been cleaned up recently.
Tom Riddle was standing in front of him, wearing Harry's body. And the only reason Harry knew that was Tom was because there was no one else he knew with crimson eyes, but Voldemort. And, plus, HE was Harry. Harry narrowed his eyes.
"Oh, Harry. Just trust me, I'll take care of you. I have to. We're sharing a body now, and there is no possible way to get rid of you, so it's paramount to keep you happy, young Harry." Tom walked closer, and closer and suddenly Harry could move his own limbs again. His head wasn't heavy anymore.
He was standing where Tom had been, but facing the other way. Slowly he turned around, not sure about what he would see. His mouth dropped open and he cried out, as his eyes took in Ginny's lifeless body, unmoving beside the destroyed diary. "Ginny! What did you do, Riddle?" He shouted, turning around in circles, trying to find the other dark haired boy.
"What I had to, to keep us safe, Potter." Came the same voice that told him to relax. It was inside his head, and Harry gave a frightened gasp.
"Where are you?" He asked quietly, his voice trembling with fear. "What are you?"
"Right now, for every day after this one, I am you." Tom answered, and Harry could see him – in his mind, in the clean Chamber Tom had envisioned – and he was smirking, his arms crossed and twirling Harry's wand between his long, pale fingers.
Before anymore could be said, there was a loud bang – like a gunshot – and a sudden flash of light. When Harry looked closer, he realized it was fire, and he squinted as he tried to see what had caught alight. But there was nothing burning, not a column, or a pillar, or a body. Tom gasped inside of Harry's head, as Fawkes appeared. Holding onto the tail feathers was Albus Dumbledore.
"Well done, my boy, well do-" And he froze mid word, his eyes widening and lingering on Ginny's corpse. "What happened?" He whispered, looking back at Harry.
"Headmaster!" Harry gasped. "I'm so sorry, I tried to stop-" But he was cut off by the over whelming urge to go to sleep. And that voice was back, whispering quietly into his ear, "trust me, Harry, I'll take care of this. Relax, Harry." And Harry, even though he wanted to fight the voice, listened, and let Tom Riddle control him again.
"Headmaster! Riddle, Riddle is Voldemort! He was here!" Tom screamed, nervous and terrified and very pleased with his acting abilities. "He tried to kill me, oh Merlin, the Basilisk. I killed it, but I was poisoned. If it wasn't for Fawkes, I would have died."
"What happened to Miss Weasley, Harry?" Dumbledore gazed at the possessed boy over the top of his glasses. The ever-present twinkle in his blue eyes was gone.
"He was trying to kill me. When Fawkes was gone, I picked up the diary and I cut myself on it. He came back and he tried to kill us. He took my wand!" Tom said, sounding angry now. "He cast this spell on me, there was lots of green light, Sir but I don't know what it means. I thought, if Riddle cast it, I could cast it back, right? He grabbed Ginny and pulled her in front of him. He disappeared and I haven't been able to wake Ginny up. I don't know why she won't wake up, Sir." He sniffled, and rubbed his nose with the cuff of his dirty sleeve.
In the little, clean, make believe Chamber Harry watched, crying silent tears as Dumbledore took Ginny's wand from the floor and sighed. "I'm sorry my boy, but I have to report this."
Harry was so very confused. And when Tom screamed out, Harry got scared. Tom didn't lose his nerve; he was a Dark Lord, what did he have to be scared of?
"You'll have to be tried." Dumbledore levelled his own wand at Tom and then Tom was falling to the ground with a thump, and for just a second Harry could move his own body. But then he was asleep as well. Dumbledore floated the body along behind him, and in front of Ginny's as he took hold of Fawkes' tail feathers and together they all disappeared from the Chamber of Secrets and death.
Five minutes later, the Auror division at the Ministry of Magic had been alerted and were on their way. Likewise, the entire Weasley family was congregated outside the Headmaster's Office, muttering to their selves and crying silently. Harry was propped in one of the chairs on the other side of the Headmaster's desk, while Ginny lay across a couch that was transfigured from a handkerchief.
With a groan, Harry woke up.
As he opened his eyes, the fireplace sprang to life and men and women in pink robes flooed through and made a circle around his chair. They all had their wands pointed at him. A girl with bubblegum pink hair dropped her wand in shock when she saw his lightening bolt scar. "Harry Potter," she whispered and everyone else followed suit. Harry shifted nervously.
Albus Dumbledore cleared his throat and began to speak, to explain what Tom had told him. The doors opened while they were talking and two people entered and closed the doors behind them; blocking out the Weasley family. Lucius Malfoy looked around the room with distaste. His eyes widened as they spotted the destroyed diary, and narrowed as they settled on Harry. His lips stretched into a smirk. Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, took his lime green bowler hat from his head and wrung it between his hands.
"What's the meaning of this?" He demanded.
The pink haired woman spoke. "It was an accident, Sir. The diary was charmed and a spirit came out of it and tried to kill Harry Potter. Ginny Weasley was killed instead."
"Who cast the spell, Auror Tonks?" Fudge demanded. "The one that killed the girl."
"Me, but it wasn't my fault. He made me do it." Harry spoke up. Tom smacked himself in the forehead, as he watched from their very own Chamber.
"Don't tell him, Harry. You'll make it worse for us." The future Dark Lord warned.
"Who made you do it?" Fudge asked, but Harry took Tom's advice and would only reply, 'it wasn't my fault'. "Azkaban Prison. Life sentence. For use of the Killing Curse." Lucius' face was split by the size of his smirk. However, it faded rather quickly as the Aurors hauled Harry to his feet, and panicked crimson eyes met his own.
"My Lord?" He whispered, but only he heard himself speak because Potter was making such a racket.
"It's not my fault. It was him! Tell them! It was you, tell them!" Harry screamed and Tom fought the boy for control. He had managed to steal the body for a brief moment, just enough for Lucius to notice, but Harry's panic had thrown him out of the mind he was trying to subdue.
Lucius cleared his throat, just as Harry was being man handled through the crowd of red heads. "Perhaps, Cornelius, Mr. Potter would be better off in St. Mungos?" It was easier to bribe the hospital staff, much easier than arranging a break out from Azkaban Prison. If that boy was really his Lord Voldemort, Lucius hoped the Minister would listen to him.
"What is he saying? Why is he helping me?" Harry asked. He sat on the floor of their Chamber, his legs hugged to his chest, with fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn't know what Azkaban was, but the man with the green hat had called it a prison. And he knew that being given a life sentence meant he would be there until he died. And he was so scared. He hadn't even done anything wrong.
In a moment of – some feeling Tom had never felt before – he knelt down behind the twelve-year-old and pulled him back into Tom's lap. With his arms around Harry, Tom began to rock lightly, comforting the crying child. "Unlike the rest of those fools, Lucius knows that nothing is what it seems."
"So, he did support you in the other war?" Harry looked up at him, wide-eyed and so very innocent, and Tom suddenly felt guilty for getting him into this mess. But then he pushed the feeling away; he was Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort was sorry for nothing.
"He was a Death Eater, yes. And considering he is trying to keep us from Azkaban, I would estimate he is still a Death Eater. The name of my followers by the way."
Since Tom began to comfort Harry, the boy's screams and struggles had calmed considerably. The Aurors had even managed to drag him into the courtyard at the front of the School by then. Fudge was still considering Lucius' words, but one look at the docile boy – a look that screamed of sanity and complete guilt, as far as the Minister was concerned – changed Fudge's mind. The boy killed someone, and it wasn't like they needed him anyway. Voldemort was never coming back.
"Azkaban. Now." He ordered and grabbed hold of a Portkey that would take him to the Ministry. Lucius cursed as the Aurors dragged his Lord outside of the anti-Apparation boundary, and disappeared with a pop. Taking the innocent boy with them.
Harry sobbed the entire boat ride towards Azkaban Island. When he caught sight of the Dementors he heard a woman screaming in his head, and he screamed along with her. But then Tom whispered to him again, and he closed his eyes and went asleep in the small bed that had appeared, floating over the large pond of water, in the Chamber of Secrets. And Tom had sat stiffly, quietly, in the small boat surrounded by Aurors and didn't pay the Dementors one scrap of attention. Unless it was to sneer at them until they flew away, disappointed in the lack of reaction.
He was dragged to one of the lower levels and thrown harshly to the floor of a dirty, barren, cold cell. The iron barred door slammed shut as the Aurors stepped out of the cell, and a key was turned, locking him in. With a wave of her wand, Aurors Tonks cast the warding charms to keep him from touching the lock on the door.
Across from him, in a similar cell, was a large black dog, curled up on a bundle of tattered clothing. "Hello," Harry whispered when Tom gave him his body back. "I thought they put down wicked dogs, not arrested them." The dog tilted its head to one side, studying him. Its eyes narrowed, then widened and it barked.
"It is not a dog. He is an Animagus: a Wizard who can turn into an animal. And he's a Grim, not a dog, anyway." Tom told him, crossing his arms over his chest and taking Harry's spot on the bed in the Chamber. "At least its comfortable here." He commented snuggling into the imaginary bed. Harry curled up on the cell floor and smiled sadly.
"I've just been informed that you are in fact a Grim, not a dog and I would like to apologize." He said, looking at the Grim, and drawing his knees closer to his body. "You must think I'm mad, talking to myself. But I'm not. There really is someone listening, but I don't think I'm allowed to tell you about him." Harry continued to talk to the black dog-like animal. The Grim stood up, and padded closer to his own door. With a sad whine, the animal began to grow; becoming taller and taller, though he remained just as skinny, until he was as tall as a grown man, and looked human too.
The man looked at the twelve-year-old through shaggy black hair, which he brushed out of his eyes with a dirty, thin and pale hand. "Harry? Harry Potter, is that you?" The man asked, his hands gripping the bars of his door to stop himself sinking to his knees in shock.
"Yes, do I know you?" Harry sat up, crawled to his own door and reached his arm out to shake the man's hand.
The man reached out and took Harry's hand in his own, but didn't shake it. Instead he held on for at least a minute, staring down at the hand in shock. Then, in a small voice, while raising his eyes to meet and lock with Harry's, he said, "I'm Sirius Black. I used to know you, a life time ago."
Harry smiled politely, but didn't pull his arm back as the other man seemed so attached to it.
Inside their Chamber, Tom woke up and borrowed Harry's eyes for a moment. When the green eyes bled to red, Sirius screamed and threw himself back into his cell, as far away from Harry's arm as possible.
"Hello, Lord Black," Tom grinned as he spoke. "I'm Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort. This is your Godfather by the way, Harry."
"I have a Godfather?" Harry asked quietly, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Tom sat down beside him.
"Apparently he helped me kill your parents." Tom snorted. "Fudge really is an idiot, isn't he?" Tom lay down and went back to sleep without another word. Harry smiled down at the other boy. Half of him wanted to hate Tom, but the other half of him told him to be sensible, and reasonable. They were going to have to share a body forever. Tom said there was no way to get rid of Harry, and Harry knew that Tom couldn't go back into the ruined diary. If they were to live within one another for the rest of their lives, Harry decided to be reasonable, and at least attempt to like Tom.
If Tom liked him back, that is.
When he looked back up at Sirius Black, his eyes were once again green. Sirius was cowering against the back wall of his cell, looking in horror at his Godson. "Don't mind him." Harry apologized. "I told you I was really talking to someone."
Sirius nodded slowly. He pulled himself together and hesitantly made his way to where Harry was pushing his arm forward, across the gap between the cells that was the walkway. Sirius took Harry's hand again. "What happened?"
And Harry told him everything. About the Dursley's, and first year, and second year, and the diary. About Tom, and Ginny and the paper cut on his right hand. About how he had felt tired and then how Tom was there and Ginny was dead. How Lucius Malfoy wanted him in St. Mungos but how Fudge wanted him here. He told Sirius about those horrid creatures outside, the ones that flew in ragged black cloaks, but didn't affect Tom at all. And he told Sirius how scared he was, and how he desperately didn't want to miss third year.
"You know, you can't go back right? Even if they let you out of here. Firstly, you have a criminal record now, and families would protest if they let you back into Hogwarts. Secondly, Dumbledore didn't really try to help, so I wouldn't trust him around you again. And thirdly, they probably snapped your wand. Your second wand never works as well as your first."
"They didn't." Harry said with a smile, and squeezed Sirius' hand. "They didn't snap it, because they didn't find it. Tom hid it, in the Chamber somewhere, somehow when I wasn't looking, because even I don't know where it is!"
Sirius smiled back at Harry, smiling at the boy's enthusiasm. Sirius knew it wouldn't last, Harry's happiness. Eventually, the Dementors would win and his Godson would be a mere shell of himself. Dementors affect people who bad things have happened to much more than they affect happy people. And Harry had almost been killed when he was fifteen-months-old. That was a very bad thing.
"I was planning to escape this summer and find you, you know." Harry frowned. He knew it sounded selfish, but he had only just found Sirius – his Godfather, his family – he didn't want to lose the man yet. "But I suppose I'll have to stick around to keep an eye on you. And Tom." He added and Harry beamed, squeezing his hand again.
"Where are those creatures now?" Harry asked and stopped smiling.
"Outside now." He shuddered. "They spend a lot of time here during the day, the nights aren't so bad because they tend to stay outside then. There are places here where the Dementors never go; where prisoners are guarded by Unspeakables only. But not this part of the Prison. The Dementors rather like coming to visit me. But the good thing about it is that then the guards hardly ever come here. It's a win-lose situation really." Sirius gave a sad sort of half shrug.
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Sirius raised a hand. After years of listening out, he had grown used to the sounds of the low tapping of feet on the stone floors. It meant an Unspeakable was coming. Sometimes they could be worse than the Dementors.
"Hush, Harry, someone's coming. Don't tell them we spoke." And then Sirius was gone. In the cell across from Harry's was a large black dog, curled up on a pile of dirty, ragged clothing. The dog hid its head under its paw and used its teeth to drag the clothes up over its head, so to anyone looking in quickly, they would see a mop of black fur, and mistake it for Sirius' filthy hair.
Tom woke up, when Harry appeared in the Chamber and prodded him sharply. "Someone is coming, what do I do?"
Tom rubbed his eyes, glancing blearily at Harry, looking for all the world like a normal teenager, and not a Dark Lord or a possessing spirit. "Lie on the floor. Leave your arm outside of the cell. And when I speak, listen." Harry nodded and left the Chamber. He opened his green eyes and quickly lay down, his arm hanging through the bars, still reaching for Sirius or for freedom.
The Unspeakable looked down on the arm as he rounded the corner of the hallway. With a sneer, he kicked the arm and Harry drew it sharply through the bars and cradled it against his chest. He didn't particularly care that he had been kicked. He was too busy listening to Tom.
In his head, Tom was saying the cruellest things. Horrid, evil, callous things that were making Harry's eyes burn and his nose run. He bit his lip, trying to not cry but he couldn't hold in a sniffle.
"Shut up, murderer," the Unspeakable said, rapping the bars of the cell door with his wand.
Harry looked up at him as Tom finished calling him a 'worthless, unlovable, murdering Mudblood freak'. He gazed at the man in white-and-grey-stripped robes with a leather floor length jacket over it – making him look like a cross between a Concentration Camp victim, and one of the Nazi Kommandants. Harry's eyes were wide and a watery green, and when Tom told him he would kill Harry and then kill Sirius, fat tears leaked from the corner of his eyes and the Unspeakable flinched back as if struck. He turned and ran from the hallway, not even bothering to glance in on Sirius Black in the cell opposite Harry's.
Harry curled up on himself in the bed, above the lake of water, in the Chamber of Secrets.
"I am sorry, Harry, forgive me?" And he truly was, as shocking as it sounds.
Harry sniffed and flinched back as Tom went to run a hand through Harry's hair. "Why?" He mumbled into the imaginary pillow.
"You needed to cry Harry, because it makes him feel guilt and pity. You have to seem to hate this place, fear it and loath it, because if they feel you are beginning to enjoy it, they'll move you to some place worse than this section of the Prison." Tom pulled Harry onto his lap, and Harry curled up, his head on Tom's chest.
"There's a worse place than this? Here, in Azkaban, I mean?" He asked quietly. He knew there was somewhere better, where no Dementors went, Sirius had told him. But he wasn't quite willing to believe there could be anywhere worse than here.
Tom sighed, and pulled the blankets up over them. "Much, much worse, my Young Harry."
Harry hummed and nuzzled his face into Tom's chest. Then he sat up, quick as a flash, and in his little cell, his eyes opened. The green orbs searched Sirius' cell until they met dark blue eyes hidden beneath shaggy black fur. "Goodnight Sirius." Then he closed his eyes, briefly, before opening them to look up at Tom. "Tom, why is it called the Chamber of Secrets? What's the secret?"
"It's a secret, Harry," Tom mumbled, already half asleep.
"You don't know, do you?" He accused, and nuzzled Tom's chest again.
Tom scowled and his eyes snapped open, and then narrowed in anger. "Lord Voldemort knows everything!" He insisted, his voice was loud enough to make Harry wince.
"You don't know," he said once more. And he fell asleep on the cold floor of his barren cell in Azkaban Prison, even though, in his mind he was curled up on Tom's chest, in the large warm bed that was floating in the Chamber of Secrets over a lake of water.
Mind magic was a powerful thing.
Well, there's the first chapter. It was shorter than I planned, but since this story will be a lot more than five chapters, it really isn't important how long I make the chapters, is it? Although, they are planned to get longer.
Please review and let me know what you think?