Conversing with Horcruxes
Marvolo knew something had happened. He could feel it in the way strange magic had brushed against him, playfully twirling around him and tugging at his robes. It was weird and surprisingly pleasant to find someone unafraid of him other than Harry Potter. He was a peculiar boy. Still, something drew him in, and a voice inside urged him to get closer and closer. There was a piece of the puzzle there that he was missing- he just knew it.
Harry Potter fascinated him, and his Horcruxes seemed to feel the same. Perhaps it was time to have a discussion with them. With a sigh, he sat down to meditate.
He’s not sure what he was expecting, but this was not it: they were playing Uno. Fucking uno.
“Nice of you to come to visit.” The ring snarked. Apparently, he had put all his sass into that Horcrux.
The rest seemed content to ignore him, focusing on their game.
“What do you think of Harry Potter?” Marvolo asked the others abruptly.
The diary flashed a sharp grin at him and set his cards down; he looked dangerous even at sixteen. “He was almost mine.”
An eyebrow rose. “What do you mean almost yours?”
“He found me after the Weasley girl did. We have a lot in common, and I promised I would do what no one had ever done for me.” He almost looked guilty. “It didn’t work out.”
“Like us?” The ring spat as he threw his cards at the main piece. “How can he be like us?” This Horcrux was angry, fueled by the rejection of his once possible family.
“He is an orphan living through a war. He was abandoned and left with filthy muggles who hurt him and destroyed everything he had. Dumbledore refused to let him stay at Hogwarts.” He scowled at the others. “How is he not like us?”
“How could this have happened?” The cup pondered, rubbing his chin. He was much mellow than his siblings, no doubt a result of his home being an heirloom of Hufflepuff. “He is the Potter heir and savior. Why would he have been left there?”
Marvolo rubbed his forehead, grimacing at the oncoming headache. “Dumbledore thrives on meddling and ruining the lives of children.”
“He didn’t learn his lesson.” The locket snorted, arms folding across his chest. “It’s a shame he doesn’t realize Harry is angry and turning away just as we did.”
“How do you know that?” The diary asked, leaning forward in curiosity.
“He sleeps in the room I am hidden,” he purred, red eyes smoldering. “I can feel his magic. It’s dark, and I want it.”
“You’re not where I left you?” The eldest growled.
“I’m safe.” He waved the concern away. “I’m far more entertained there anyways.”
“Now I want to meet him. Give me to him.” The ring insisted.
“Calm down.” Marvolo rolled his eyes. “It’s too dangerous for us and our plans.”
“Why don’t we take him?” The cup suggested, brown eyes flickering to red. “We can take care of him. We can hide him away to keep him safe.” The cup might have been calmer, but he was just as slippery and possessive as the rest.
“He would fight us at every turn.” The diary pouted- he was fucking pouting. “I was trying to do something like that, but he found out. He took it as a betrayal and ran away, choosing to trap me once more and leave me in the Chamber.”
“He was in the Chamber?” The ring pressed his fingers together. “How is that possible? I thought you possessed the blood traitor, not the boy.”
He bared his teeth at the rest of them, the sharp grin matching the angles of his face. “Harry speaks Parseltongue.”
“He’s quite the snake,” the Diadem said from his place by the wall. “That boy should have been placed in Slytherin.”
“Why do you think that?”
He tilted his head to the side. “I am in the room where all things are lost and found. I am in the hidden room until there is a need for it. I lurk in the background, hearing their plans and secrets.
And you’re right.” He said, looking at Locket. “His power is dark and very appealing. He is ours, he and the child.”
“The child?” Marvolo sputtered.
“It seems there was an incident with time travel, and a child from the future has come to find her parents. She is ours. She has our eyes and speaks Parseltongue too.”
“Her mother?”
He cackled, something undignified yet appropriate for the situation. “Why don’t you ask Harry?”