Hollow Thunder, Vital Lightning -Aariya
Rating: NC-17 :You've been warned!:
Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Genre: Drama, Romance, Fantasy, Action/Adventure
Summary: Life after Voldemort is ideal and perfect for everyone except the one who made it possible. Unbelievably bored and unhappy, Harry performs a spell that will take him to an alternate universe where he can be happiest with Voldemort. Even he hadn't expected the outcomes or how the spell would misinterpret his desires.
Warnings: slash; AU; Slytherin!Harry; Dark!Harry (sorta)...and another one I took out that you will have to figure out for yourself; it's kind of crucial to the plot so I can't tell you!
Spoilers: Compliant with first five books and includes information from six and seven.
Disclaimer: Obviously Harry Potter does not belong to me or I would not be here posting fanfics.
"HTVL" - English, or other human languages
HTVL - Thoughts, Spells, Special Text (titles and such)
"HTVL" - Parseltongue, Incanted Spells, or a language within a language
HTVL - Parselmagic (spells and the language in writing)
Chapter 1: Blasé
Harry was bored. Scratch that. He was so fucking bored!
Lying in his Gryffindor-prided bed, he tried to read the pages he was assigned for Transfiguration, but was unable to concentrate on the meaningless words. He was alone in the Head Dorm, as he tended to be nowadays. Ron and Hermione spent all their time together and his friends had other things to do. Even Neville was spending time with his girlfriend, some girl from Hufflepuff. Neville, for Merlin's sake!
Growling angrily, he got up and tossed the book from his chest in the process. He would go find Draco and amuse himself, though even that had lost some of its entertainment.
He knew what the problem was, just not how to go about this revelation. Ever since his defeat of Voldemort, he'd felt this way. He didn't dare tell anyone in case they thought he was a bit touched in the head. But he couldn't help the way he felt. Without Voldemort, life was extremely boring and meaningless.
The world was much happier and brighter since Voldemort's fall. It was as if a cloud of darkness had been lifted. Everyone walked around with a spring to their steps and they didn't look around suspiciously over their shoulders. They trusted anyone they saw and were always smiling. People practically worshipped the ground he walked on for making this new world possible.
Harry sometimes wondered at their selfishness. Sure they were happy, but why did they never notice how unhappy he was? Just because he'd spent almost his whole life trying to rid the world of Voldemort didn't mean he would be ecstatic the moment he was gone.
Damn snake-face for making him feel this way! How he hated him! Yet, he could not go on living without him.
You can join me, Harry. We can rule the world. Just imagine what we could accomplish together.
That had been Voldemort's last attempt to make him come to his side. Of course, he had refused. As if he and Voldemort could work together. He only wanted a challenging rival, not some megalomaniac to rule with.
But even those words sounded better than what he was living through now.
After he'd killed him, Harry had gone on a rage. He had not let anyone approach him for weeks as he destroyed everything in his path. People had assumed he was feeling anger at having to kill Voldemort with a simple Killing Curse instead of inflicting unimaginable pain on him, but they were, of course, wrong as usual.
He himself had expected to feel joy after eradicating his worst enemy but all he had felt was emptiness and the feeling that he was missing something.
Harry had surrounded himself with countless distractions. He had practiced and perfected many spells in some of the Black houses he had inherited after Sirius's death.
He hadn't known why but when he practiced the Dark Arts, that emptiness in him dulled considerably. When he had practiced some Parseltongue spells from Parseltongue books that he'd found, it was even more unnoticeable. To distance himself from that feeling, he plunged into his studies until he could learn very little actual new information.
Then Harry had tried to find other ways to get rid of his boredom. At first, he went out a lot and went to a club nearly every day. But he'd found that boring quickly. After that, he'd had a short fling with Draco Malfoy at the end of the school year.
It had been fun and exciting for a while. The idea of being with a Slytherin had excited him for some reason. Not to mention, Draco was a lot more fun than his fellow Gryffindors. He was not so predictable and sometimes he couldn't even guess what he was thinking or feeling. And they were both so aggressive and dominant that he had made it his goal to make the blond submit to him. Over the summer, the fact that he was sneaking Draco into his house while Hermione and Ron and sometimes half the Order who wouldn't bugger off were there as well had made his blood rush.
But that had also lost its amusement. No matter how many things he did to occupy himself, he always ended up being bored in the end. None of them were a substitute for Voldemort and he knew it, as much as he tried to ignore it.
Harry ran a hand through his long mane, trying to comb the thoughts out of his mind. That was another thing that had changed about him. He had decided to let his hair grow to just above his shoulders. It was a lot more manageable this way; why hadn't he thought of it before?
Because everything in your life was encompassed around Voldemort. Who had time to worry about appearance?
His subconscious seemed to be against him as well. It dragged out the truth when he didn't want to hear it.
Shut up, he snarled in his head.
Harry ignored the reverent looks he got as he passed the corridors of Hogwarts. Not only did his bloody scar warrant the looks but so did the Head Boy badge that gleamed off his robes whenever he passed the sunlight. (A position he thought he only procured as an apology from Dumbledore for not making him prefect in fifth year, though he supposed he had the best scores in the school after his little studying obsession—bar a certain bushy-haired genius, of course.) So did probably the purposeful (not that he had any purpose to boast of now) way he was walking, like the war leader he had been. They also scarcely saw him unless he was walking to and from classes, the library, and the Great Hall.
He made his way to the dungeons without interruption. He was just contemplating on how he was going to draw Draco out when he heard the unmistakable sound of said boy's light feet treading towards the dungeons.
With a feral smile playing on his lips, Harry turned back around and waited in an alcove off to the side for the boy. When the blond passed by, he wasted no time in taking a hold of his arm and pulling him into the shadows.
"Fuck!" the Slytherin aristocrat hissed.
Harry tutted amusedly. "Such vile words, Draco, are unbecoming of a properly purebred wizard."
"Potter! What do you think you're doing? Unhand me at once!" Draco snarled as he tried to recover his arm.
Harry smirked and instead pinned him against the wall and leaned in close to his face. "Why, Draco? Are you scared?" he asked teasingly.
The Draco Malfoy Harry knew came back in that instant. He put on the arrogant look only an aristocrat could pull off effectively and stared at Harry through his indifferent mercury gaze.
"Get over yourself, Potter," he sneered. "Not everyone is willing to bow down to you."
"Is that so? You so easily forget this summer, Draco," Harry said with a dark chuckle. "I seem to remember you were more than willing to bend over for me."
Once again, Draco sneered at him and tried to push him off. And Harry felt his excitement coming back as they wrestled for dominance.
Finally, Harry grabbed the front of his robes and crushed his lips over the protesting blond's. Draco drew in a sharp breath and tried to fight with him even then. But Harry had been ready for a challenge and, the moment the Slytherin's mouth opened wide enough, he slipped his tongue in. Their tongues clashed with one another and warred for control.
In the end, Draco let out a small moan in the back of his throat and conceded. Smiling into the kiss, Harry tallied another victory over his archrival. He chewed on Draco's bottom lip and rolled their tongues together until he succeeded in making the blond whimper.
Releasing his lips, Harry moved on to the delicate, pale neck of his companion and marveled at its beauty before taking it into his mouth. He felt hands raking through his hair and pushing him deeper into the crook of the neck but didn't complain. He quite liked Draco's forceful behavior in times like this.
The harsh intake of breath was music to his ears as he found that special place on Draco's collarbone that made the boy shudder and teased it relentlessly. Sucking on it hungrily, he reveled in the moans he was eliciting from those pretty lips.
Harry smiled but obeyed and moved down even further as he unbuttoned the boy's shirt under his robes.
"W-we have to get out of here, Potter. Anyone c-could s-see us," Draco tried to reason even as he panted under the attention his right nipple was getting.
Harry bit the hard nipple and smiled seductively up at Draco. "Doesn't that turn you on?"
Draco answered with a deep moan. Harry slowly started rubbing their hips together. They groaned together at the friction this created and Harry sucked on the blond's nipple harder.
Moving down even lower, Harry saw the evident arousal through Draco's trousers. He touched it over the fabric and was happily met with another whimper.
Harry smirked and looked up to see the blond's half-lidded eyes and his mouth open in a whine. "Yes, Draco?"
"Stop t-this. I will not have my reputation tarnished because of your lack of self-control," Draco answered, trying to push Harry away and button up his shirt.
With a roll of his eyes, Harry stood up and let the pureblood wizard compose himself. "Whose reputation do you think will be stained if we were caught? I highly doubt anyone would care for what you were doing," he pointed out mockingly.
He was sent a glare for his jibe. Even after all their escapades, they were rivals first and foremost, though Harry got bored with it sometimes and tried to strike a conversation with the boy. Draco didn't seem to want to let go of their enmity or one-upmanship so he continued to treat him coldly and called him by his last name.
"My dorm, then?" Harry asked, knowing full well that Draco would be steaming at the thought of the title he had lost to Harry. "Hermione's out with Ron. I doubt they'll be back for hours. For a bookworm, she's pretty kinky."
Draco made a face at that. "Please, Potter, I don't wish to know of the Mudblood and the Weasel's sex life," he drawled. "And no, I don't wish to go to your dorm."
Harry looked down at the boy's still present hard-on and raised an eyebrow. "Your body doesn't lie, Draco. You know you want it."
Grabbing his fallen robes, the glaring Slytherin put it back on and hid his erection. "Don't tell me what I want, Potter!" he snapped.
Harry smiled pleasantly and Draco gave him a surprised look for the unexpected expression on his face. "Okay. Suit yourself. Have a nice wank, then."
He turned to walk away and counted down the seconds in his head. It wasn't long before he heard the exclaimed curse and sound of feet moving forward.
"Potter! Don't think you can just walk away!"
Harry grinned but didn't turn around and walked on.
Hmmm, Draco was getting predictable. That wasn't good; he would have to do something about it. For now, though, he was satisfied at the reaction and slowed to let the boy fall into step with him. He smirked smugly at the blond and Draco glowered back at him, muttering something about 'pretentious scarheads.'
You know he'll bore you once you've had your pleasure. He is getting predictable, like all the Gryffindor scum you surround yourself with.
Harry was startled at the thought. That couldn't have been his own thinking, could it? He loved his friends, even if they were a little boring, though that wasn't their fault. He was a Gryffindor as well, so it made no sense to belittle them.
Oh, you know you are a Slytherin at heart. You cheated your way into Gryffindor.
It was true and the thought wasn't as unsettling as it should have been. But why was it coming up now? He supposed he had been scared to go to Slytherin mainly because he had thought only Dark wizards went in there and it had been Voldemort's House as well. Could he accept that he belonged there now that Voldemort was gone? Possibly. It sounded a lot more exciting and less boring than Gryffindor at any rate.
Life had never seemed so blasé as it did that moment. Even sex with Draco was losing its charm the closer he got to his dorm. He would have to do something about this before he went insane enough to Avada Kedavra himself.
"Tell your little sycophants to stop staring at me as if I were the Giant Squid itself before I hex them all into oblivion." Draco's threat snapped him from his reverie and he looked to the source of the blond's anger—three Gryffindor second-years who were looking at Draco just as he described it.
Harry smiled patiently at them until they scurried away with pleased smiles and blushes. "Hex them into oblivion, Draco? How inelegant. I thought better of a Malfoy," he taunted once they were gone and he was looking at the scowling blond.
Draco snorted and squared his shoulders. "As if a Gryffindork or a Potter could tell me what elegance is."
Instead of being offended, Harry chuckled. "This Gryffindork knows a lot more than you think, Draco. As far as elegance goes, I could definitely school you."
The Slytherin smirked and raised one fine blond brow at him. "Is that a challenge, Potter?"
"No, it's a statement, Draco," Harry replied wistfully just as they stopped before his dorm.
He hissed the alternative password in Parseltongue at the portrait and smiled as he heard the telltale sound of Draco trying to stifle a moan. The portrait swung open and they stepped through. Harry led the way to his staircase on the left side of the room and beckoned the boy up.
Draco studied the interior of the Head Dorm and frowned. "I hadn't thought it would look so disgustingly Gryffindorish in here."
"Considering two Gryffindors are the Heads, I'm not surprised. It is a little tasteless, but what can you do with a Gryffindor headmaster and deputy headmistress?" Harry said with a shrug as he hung on the railing and waited for the blond to follow him.
Draco turned to him in surprise. "Tasteless, Potter? I thought you were the perfect little Gryffindork."
"Wouldn't hurt to have a little green in here," Harry said with a slow smirk at the look he was given. "Now come, before Hermione gets back."
The Slytherin shook his head and followed him with a snort. "You're unbelievable, Potter."
"That's why I'm so fun," chimed Harry.
They came upon the painting he had installed of a king cobra and he hissed the password again. Hermione and Ron tried to convince him to get rid of it but he wasn't budging. He didn't want them to see half the things he studied when he was alone. He doubted Draco would judge him or look at him as if he were the next Dark Lord, though.
The door opened and they stepped through to his neatly organized room. One side had a huge shelf full of all his prized books with furniture surrounding it. His king-sized bed was in the center of the room with the drapes pulled back and his Transfiguration book still lying there.
He knew Draco had seen his books when he heard him catch his breath and saw him standing next to the first half of the shelf. Harry turned to see him pull out a large black blank tome with fine red designs on the binder and knew it was one of his Parseltongue books.
Draco opened it and stared at it vacantly then turned to Harry. "I had no idea you were so fond of gibberish, Potter," he drawled sarcastically.
Harry rolled his eyes and took the book out of his hands and delicately put it back. "It's in Parseltongue. It looks like gibberish to someone who can't speak it."
"And where did you find a Parseltongue book? I thought there were only few that only Salazar Slytherin had in his vault; one that hasn't been opened for centuries," the blond said.
"The Black library had plenty of these books, they just didn't know what they were dealing with and same with Flourish and Blotts. People don't know how to recognize something like that if they can't speak the language," Harry explained as he crawled onto his bed. "Will you stop dawdling now and get over here?"
"Eager, Potter?" Draco said with a smug smirk. "You might as well enjoy it while you can. Don't expect this to become habit."
"I wouldn't dream of it, Draco. That's so monotonous. I like my life to be a little more spontaneous than that," Harry said as he patted his bed.
Draco rolled his eyes and got on the bed. "You are far from conventional, Potter."
Harry grinned and pounced on the blond as soon as he was settled on the bed, causing him to sprawl back on it and allowing Harry to straddle him. "Why, thank you, Draco."
"That wasn't a compliment," Draco grunted before Harry's lips covered his.
Harry stared at his ceiling as he enjoyed the afterglow. No, not necessarily enjoyed, but thought about it. Before, he had been exalted after the sex, but now it was just a dull pleasure.
The sex wasn't the bad thing. Far from it, actually. But he'd lost the excitement he felt after it; the need to do it again with Draco because the boy was always so delightful. Now he could do it with anyone else and get the same effects. Draco had lost his uniqueness and was just like everyone else to him. The whole thing that had drawn him to the blond in the first place was gone.
Harry looked over at Draco and saw that he was fast asleep. He couldn't blame this on him, though. He had known it would not last. That, soon, he would have to find something else to do to please himself.
Once again he turned back to the ceiling and contemplated on a solution that he would be happy with. There was nothing that would keep him happy for long; eventually, they would all become boring.
He knew what he wanted, that much was obvious. There was only one thing, or person, that would keep him satisfied for as long as he needed.
Imagine that. The one person he'd always hated being the only one that could make him happy. There was no denying it, though. It was the truth.
Luckily, he also knew how to fix this problem of his. He'd read about it in passing during his studies. He had liked the idea and had retained the knowledge just in case he might want to try it sometime. And there was no better time to do so than now.
Waving a hand, Harry levitated the Parseltongue book he'd read it in from the last shelf. It was leather bound and was a beautiful forest green with intricate gold designs on the cover and binding. The words in black could roughly be translated in Latin as Moderamen Cosmicos. Controlling the Cosmos.
He'd read it in an effort to further his studies of the Shadows. There had been an extensive amount of information about it on that. He'd spent weeks on the book just trying to get through and perfect everything it had on the Shadows. And perfect he did. He hadn't even been lying to Draco about his elegance because it was true. He probably had more elegance than anyone else after the rigorous demands the Shadows had, for he needed to know how to move his body flawlessly before advancing on to the Shadows.
He could now control and manipulate the Shadows in a way no one had been able to do for centuries. He was now the Shadow Lord, as people who mastered it were called. There couldn't be another one until he died and he would not have been able to succeed had there been one either, though he had checked before he had attempted it.
Most people underestimated and misunderstood the importance of the Shadows, but he knew better. Probably out of almost all of his abilities, he would say it was his favorite. It had saved him many times during the war but no one had figured out he had it to this day, and he meant to keep it that way.
The book had everything in it about manipulating the forces of the world: spiritual, magical, and physical. It explained in detail what could be used in the world by any magical being. There were, of course, some things that were not meant to be touched, but many forces of the universe were there to be commanded by anyone who knew how.
It was information that was to be used delicately, though, because the book also explained that there were some factors against you when messing with the cosmos. The world needed to always be balanced. That was why Light could not exist without Dark and Dark without Light. If one did something that broke that balance, there would be grave consequences and the necessary actions would be taken to insure that balance was returned.
Harry didn't know what the consequences would be but he didn't want to be the one to find out. That was why he had to tread carefully when he performed the spell. He would have to think about it and study it thoroughly.
It was a good thing he had practice from when he did the same thing with the Shadows. He wouldn't let that make him too confident, though. That was just arrogance and he learned quite well what happened to overly arrogant people from Voldemort.
Harry opened the book and it immediately opened up to what he was looking for. He smiled. This was another reason he loved the book. Whoever had written it had made it so the book would open on whatever he was looking for, or something resembling what he was looking for.
He looked at the page and read some of the last paragraphs of information he wanted to be clear on. He remembered the rest of the spell.
Syncrasis Res : Blending World
This is the fourth part of the incantation. Once these words are spoken, one will truly be a part of the specific world that will best suit them. Part of, not only in the sense that they will be in that world, but because of something that is much more complicated. While the spell transfers one to the world they will most be happy with or fit into, it also must ensure that there will be no conflict with the person's counterpart in that world. If their counterpart is dead (as can be the case with thousands of alternate worlds existing and with different circumstances in each), they will simply replace them and no one would be the wiser because even if they become their counterpart, they truly and completely aren't them.
However, in the case that said counterpart is alive, one will merge or blend with them. They wouldn't truly replace them, but they also wouldn't be separate from them. They will become one with them. The person who performs the spell would be the dominant but while within their counterpart's world, they will have all their knowledge, all their experiences, and even their feelings towards certain things mixed in with their own. One will also take on the appearance of their counterpart, only retaining few things that are unique to themselves. Sometimes a blend of things that are especially distinctive to the counterpart and the person may also occur. Most important, though, they will take on their blood and abilities. This will help if their counterpart is heir to a prominent family or has certain abilities distinctive to their blood.
That is what most people fail to understand when it comes to delicate magic such as this. Many cannot accept the fact that they will not completely be themselves within the alternate world. While retaining everything they are, they will also be gaining more. They fail to see that this is not a setback but an advantage and this is why they cannot complete the spell. They are not ready for the implications and if one cannot truly embrace all that it comes with, they are setting themselves up for a catastrophe. One must tread very carefully when performing the spell and must be ready for all that is to come, to possibly become wholly another person.
Harry shut the book as he thought about it. He could see why some people would be scared to perform the spell. To forsake all that you have always been and to become one with someone that thought and felt differently from you was frightening and a big step for most.
But he could read between the lines and he could definitely work with what he was given; he had been doing it for as long as he could remember. The one who performed the spell would be dominant, after all. He knew what that meant. While he would get everything else from his counterpart—if he was alive—he could control it to some extent. Let it not be said that people were single-minded; they always argued with themselves, that's why decisions were always so hard to make.
So, there, he was embracing that. That left the matter of if he wanted to actually do this.
Harry smiled amusedly. Of course, he should have known. It wasn't even a question worth entertaining. This existence wasn't even worth entertaining. He had to do something to rectify that or he would go insane. This was the best solution and he would be happy and he wouldn't need to drag all the people he loved into it.
That left lots of preparations, though. Not to mention, lots of explanations. He would need to get ready for his departure while readying others as well. He did not expect to come back, if that was even possible.
Well, at least he had something to excite him before he left this world for his next adventure.
For the first time in months, Harry could feel a grin of genuine happiness on his face as he thought about his plans.