Harry Potter and the Bonds of Blood
Yet Another Soul Bonding Fic (YASBF) by Darth Marrs
Acknowledgments: I owe a creative debt for this fic primarily to two writers. The first and foremost is Sovran for the story The Meaning of One, and secondly Intromit's Harry Potter and Fate's Debt. I say I owe them a debt because I'm essentially walking down a path they created. There will be some similarities—in fact I will have a hard time avoiding similarities—especially with Sovran's wonderful story. If I happen to have similar scenes, though, know that it's because those two authors got it right the first time, and I'm just struggling behind them in the hopes that I'll be able to add my own voice to the fanfic chorus. If you haven't already read those stories, I urge you to do so.
*5/31/2021 Author's Note at the end.
Harry Potter and the Bonds of Blood
"So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted…. I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets." – Tom Riddle, The Chamber of Secrets
Chapter One: The Soul Eater
If this is dying, thought Harry Potter, it's not so bad. The poison of the basilisk was searing up his arm even while the weight of it pulled his eye lids and his mind down into darkness.
For one brief moment, Harry considered his twelve years of life up to that point. He dwelled on every moment of pain and sorrow he experienced. He remembered vividly the leering grin on his uncle's face the first time he was told his parents were drunken louts who died in a car wreck. He remembered running in terror from Dudley and his friends during their Harry-Hunting expeditions.
There were brief moments of joy, but they were all just in the past two years. Hagrid coming to get him; making his first true friends with Ron and Hermione. Making the quidditch team. But as his young mind sorted through all the instances and memories he possessed, his one passing thought was of deep sorrow that he had not had more joy in his life.
Harry felt no bitterness. He did not blame anyone, though there was blame aplenty. Rather, he was simply sad that he had not had more happiness. More love.
Suddenly everything came back into focus. Harry shook his head and looked down to see Fawkes on his arm, the bird's eyes still glistening with magical tears. He stared down in shock to see the fang wound on his arm was gone.
"Get away, bird!" Riddle's voice was saying. The nearly solid form of the teenage Tom Riddle was holding Harry's wand, but Harry ignored him.
Everything in the Chamber of Secrets had a strange, unearthly glow to it. Nearby the now dead body of the basilisk glowed a bright green color. He heard Riddle speaking still, and the beautiful trilling of the phoenix, and a moment later the diary of Riddle fell to the floor before him. Like everything it had an aura around it—a blackened glow like darkness made visible.
From the diary, he could see a thin line of that darkness trailing over to the prone, pale form of Ginny Weasley.
There was no conscious thought. No deliberation or judgment. Harry's body moved seemingly of its own accord as he grabbed the basilisk fang by its long root, swung it over his head, and thrust it into the middle of the book like a dagger. Ink like blood poured from the book as the shade of Tom Riddle screamed in rage and pain nearby.
The thin tether of darkness retreated quickly into the book, but in so doing pulled an equal tether of red from Ginny. Even in her unconscious state she moaned in pain as the dark magic pulled her life force out of her.
Even amidst his screaming, Tom Riddle's face took on a look of determination and rage. The blackened tether pulled harder, and for one strange second it seemed to Harry's eyes as if Ginny was pulled completely from her body.
Tom Riddle was trying to finish the consumption of Ginny's soul to save himself.
"No!" Harry called. Unthinkingly, he jumped onto Ginny and grasped with his magic at her soul. Where her soul was weakened and red, his magic appeared vibrant and green, but wholly untested. He felt the darkness of the diary burning the edges of his magic and soul, but he winced and did not step back. He and Ron had come so far; he had come so far to save this girl, he was not going to lose her now.
Still the pull continued. His wild and still uncontrolled magic wasn't enough. "I won't let you have her!" he growled. He reached out with more than just his magic. He reached out with his very essence. He didn't know how he did what he did, only that he had to.
Green light entwined the red in a tight grip the darkness could not fight. The brilliant twirl of soul energy pulled back abruptly as the darkness in the diary died.
On the other side of the two kids Tom Riddle disappeared with one final cry.
Suddenly the twirling red and green mass of energy snapped back into the entwined bodies of Harry and Ginny with such force and violence Harry screamed and Ginny moaned in agony.
Then all sound faded as Harry's head collapsed onto her shoulder.
A red-headed man sits in an old rocking chair held together by paint, love and magic. A young girl sits on his lap.
Another Harry Potter story, Pumpkin? Don't you want to hear about the Bulbous Bards of Beckensale? Or the Yelping Yipper of York?
Daddy! Tell me about Harry Potter.
You know he's probably nothing like the stories, Pumpkin.
I know. He's probably very sad his Mum and Dad died. But someday I'll meet him and I'll make it all better.
A vicious, red-faced man leans over a five year old boy who has tears streaming down his face. The man is talking with a leering smile while behind him another, much larger by snickers.
Your parents were thieves and drunkards. They crashed their car and died just like all thieves and drunkards should. You don't know how lucky you are boy to be in this house. You're nothing but the useless whelp of two useless pieces of filth, and I have no doubt you'll end up just the same—drunk and in jail, or dead like them.
A large group of people stands around a table laughing and playing. The sign over their heads announces: Happy Birthday, Ginny! A matronly woman stands next to a girl with a forced smile.
I know you wanted that new jumper, sweetie, but this one will work just fine for you.
It's okay, mom. It looks really nice. It'll work just fine.
The red-faced man again. He is drunk. On the floor below him sits a young boy with messy black hair, old glasses and a bruise on his cheek. Nearby stands the much larger boy with a toy car clenched in his fat fist, while his other fist looks ready to hit again.
Birthday? Do I look like I bloody care that it's your birthday too? Do you honestly think I would waste my hard-earned money on useless trash like you? You don't deserve a birthday present. I should whip you into next week for even thinking like that, you little brat!
I don't know. I don't know anything. Who am….?
I can feel you. I don't understand. Who are…?
A boy with a tangle of dark hair stands on the doorstop of Ms. Fig's house as his family drives away to vacation. In the back, the now tubby boy waves with one finger up.
A young girl smiles and laughs and hugs her loving family for the gifts she receives for Christmas, but afterward in her room looks over the used articles of clothing given to her and weeps softly.
A boy with school-issued glasses repaired only with tape cries as the larger boy and his equally large friends kick him and hit him while nearby the larger boy's mother ignores the whole scene and works in her garden.
A young girl laughs joyously on a secretly borrowed broom for the very first time. She soars through the air under the light of a full moon with long red hair trailing behind her. The world is so beautiful she weeps in happiness for being above it.
Harry, I'm scared. I don't understand what is happening.
I don't either. But I don't want…
…it to stop.
Molly Weasley jumped as a ball of flame erupted in the middle of Headmaster Dumbledore's office. The flame was replaced an instant later by a beautiful phoenix with newly reborn plumage.
The wondrous creature soared through the office and landed directly on Dumbledore's shoulder. It began trilling an urgent, hopeful song. Dumbledore listened attentively before he nodded and stood. "Fawkes has found them. Come, hurry now!"
Molly looked at her husband, and Arthur stared back with a determined smile. The two stood and followed the headmaster down the stairs of his tower and into the castle proper. He led them on a circuitous route through the familiar hallways until they arrived at a girl's bathroom.
"So it's true," Dumbledore whispered. He, like the Weasleys, stared at the now opened stairwell that led down into the chamber of secrets. "It truly has been opened."
A short time later they encountered Ron and the confused countenance of Professor Lockhart. "Hello, old chap!" the professor said gaily to the headmaster. "What a fine robe that is. Who are you, now?"
Dumbledore looked over at the youngest Weasley boy. "He tried to obliviate Harry 'n me," Ron said with a shrug. "Used my broken wand and backfired on him."
"Where's Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
Ron pointed at the pile of rocks that blocked the cavern. "He went ahead to try and save Ginny."
All three Weasleys watched as the ancient wizard removed several tons of rubble with a casual flick of his wand, and moments later they were running through the caverns into the Chamber of Secrets.
"Merlin's beard!" Arthur exclaimed.
"Wicked!" Ron said.
Molly simply cried out in horror when she saw the massive basilisk lying dead on the ground, and not twenty feet away, a pile of unmoving Hogwarts student robes. "My baby!" She sprinted down the long hall, ignoring everything else as her eyes locked on the strands of red hair she could see from the center of the bundle.
She arrived but slowed in confusion. "Harry Potter?" she whispered. Harry was laying on her little girl, his head on her shoulder and his hand reached out toward a blackened book. Nearby she saw the glint of a sword on the floor and Harry's wand.
The boy's other arm was covered in blood and grime and she saw a rip in his robes as if something had stabbed him, though she could not see any blemishes on his arm.
She knelt down as the others arrived. "What happened here?" Arthur Weasley said. He pointed at the fearsome beast. "Albus, what is…"
"A basilisk, as we feared," Dumbledore said. He looked down at the two children and then knelt next to them opposite Molly. With hands that proved stronger than their appearance, he gently rolled Harry off of Ginny. "They're both alive," Dumbledore said.
As the two children separated, both suddenly arched their backs and cried out in obvious pain. Molly looked up at the headmaster in panic. "Albus…what is happening?"
Ginny turned away from her mother and reached out blindly, her eyes still closed, until she grabbed at Harry's chest. At the same time, he rolled away from Dumbledore until his arm found her shoulder. Eyes still closed, seemingly still in their sleep, the two pulled each other into an embrace.
"How very cute!" Professor Lockhart said happily. "A little young for passionate embraces, though, wouldn't you say?"
"Ginny, dearest, we need to leave this awful place," Molly said as she pulled her daughter out of the embrace. The moment Ginny and Harry broke contact, the first-year started convulsing again.
Still on the ground, Harry cried out and went into equally strong convulsions. "Arthur, help me!" Molly said in terror as her daughter's thrashing caused both to fall backward.
Her husband rushed to her side to try and restrain Ginny while Dumbledore fought to hold Harry down. The old wizard's face darkened. "Molly!" he said. "Let her go!"
"Harry!" Ginny Weasley's desperate cry rang through chamber. Molly screamed and Arthur flew back as a flash of wild accidental magic surrounded Ginny.
The flash erupted next to the headmaster, and the sheer power of it sent the elderly wizard spinning away. He scrambled away with surprising dexterity and clambered back to his feet with his wand in hand.
Across from him, Albus watched as Molly rose and Arthur picked himself up off the wet floor of the chamber. The two drifted together and stared down at the floor in confusion and fear. Albus let his eyes also drift down, his brow furrowing in thought and concern.
Between the two adults lay Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, both seemingly unconscious, both tightly wrapped in an embrace.
"Well, that was unusual," Lockhart announced. "Say, I'm hungry. Is there somewhere around here we can eat?"
Important Author's Notes: As of 5/31/2021, the Bonds of Blood is over a decade old. I started writing it in 2008, and finished it in January of 2011. It was a different time, both in our nation, our culture and our fiction. And just like the America of today is not the same as it was in 2011, neither am I. I would not write this story today, any more than I would write Harry Potter and the Four Founders today. (The last of the Forever Mage books actually presented the whole bonding thing as something of a Cthulu-esque horror).
I leave my older stories up as a testament to who I was, and how far I've come as a writer. Some hold of better than others. But it's ironic that my single most popular non-crossover HP story is the most problematic. So consider this a warning:
Bonds of Blood contains underage sex (albeit in a stable, monogamous relationship between age-peers), major character death, and one of the better Chapter Titles I've ever come up with. "Holly and Elder", at the end.
Even at the time I was first posting, I was talking with my readers about the fact that even I was a little uncomfortable with it because of how young they were. While the vast majority of readers over the decades have not had issue with it, understanding that the intent was to show a soul bond could actually be tragic, I recognize it could be problematic for some. I made a conscious effort to comply with FFN rating categories, but even so, I give you this warning.
This story was not intended for children.