Distortion
Harry inhaled slow, deep breaths. She'd tried dozens of ways to evade the wards, all to no avail, and the time each attempt consumed had taken a toll both on her mind and her chances of getting out without being caught.
She'd had several narrow scrapes already— three Aurors had nearly caught her, and she duelled them for a few moments before getting out by using one of her potions to create a smoke screen, and then two other times an Auror had almost spotted her as she dashed away.
She had, thankfully, not come in contact with Riddle yet.
She didn't think she could afford it.
By now Harry couldn’t remain upright for longer than five minutes on her own, and even a few steps felt like a marathon. She hadn't known seeing stars would lead her body to become such a useless heap.
So naive. She couldn’t even spare the energy to shake her head.
I'd thought I could make it out despite being wrong in the head. So funny.
What the hell did Riddle do to me? Was it even Riddle? Or…
Her eyes drew to a tightly clutched weight in her hand. She wasn't sure, but she thought she felt something akin to horror before she tried to pry her fingers from it.
The task proved difficult. The Rod of Zuriel had a magnetic quality to it, powerful and yet subtle, such that she only noticed it now that she was actively trying to fight it.
How is this even possible? I left the Rod there. It shouldn't be with me. How...?
She willed her fingers to move with all her might.
They didn't budge a milimeter, clasped hard and white on the Rod. There was something enchanting about the—
Harry inhaled sharply, the sudden moment of clarity it gave her enough for her to pry her hand away, and the Rod clattered to the ground.
She sighed in relief, and took a step forward—
—And staggered, feeling even more lightheaded all of a sudden.
She watched, somehow both detached and horrified as, without her input, her hand once more reached for the Rod.
The movement was slow, and full of struggle, because her moments of actual control were frequent but weak, and she'd barely make any headway to pull herself away before she'd be entranced by the staff once more. It seemed there were only three things in the world: her, the Rod, and the magnetic pull in between.
Harry couldn’t see anything but black, but the vague impressions of her surroundings that her magic gave her had helped before. Now, even her magic seemed to centre around only this tenuous connection, and she was blind to anything but the struggle.
Somewhere in the middle of the fight, in one of her brief, brief moments of rational thought, Harry gained enough sense to kick the Rod as far away as she could in a single swing.
Desperation poured more into it than she could have hoped for, and the Rod landed a good ten feet away. Harry didn't waste a second, taking advantage of the temporary respite the distance gave her and stumbling back even further until she hit her back against a tree.
Her head in splitting pain, mind refusing to cooperate, she loosely slid to the ground, eyes open but unseeing, breathing but breathless.
What was there to do?
Nothing.
She felt as though there was something missing, as though there ought to be another voice in her head egging her on, but that thought, too, vanished in the space of seconds.
Harry's eyes were just fluttering close when cool, smooth scales tightly wrapped itself around her arm and squeezed.
She reached with her other hand and gripped it, "What…? Who?"
"Ssspeaker! Do not listen to the ssstupid ssstaff!"
"Wh— Tree…ssslide?" She felt like the name was just out of reach, a name that'd meant something to her but she couldn't think about now.
"Treessslider, Ssspeaker!" The snake hissed, "Ssspeaker mussst reach sssomewhere sssafe!"
"Safe…?" Yes, Harry would like to be safe.
"Treessslider daresss not think— it ssscares Ssspeaker, but did Ssspeaker not go there and come out smelling older but no one was wissser?" The snake sounded desperate, but his words only confused Harry. Merlin, but her head throbbed, "No! Bad Ssspeaker! No closssing eyesss!"
Harry forced her eyes open again, for all the good it did her.
His voice felt strangely distorted.
She was so tired.
A chilling, soft and yet confident voice resounded in her head.
Yes, my child. Come to me.Rest.
N-no—
Harry focused on the sensation of Treeslider's tightly wrapped coils around her arm, his hisses too difficult for her to pick out, and told herself she had to keep feeling that sensation. She was just about to try and ask him about the safe space he had mentioned when she was distracted by a third voice in her head.
This one was familiar. She associated it with reliableness, comfort, and no small amount of annoyance.
I'm not done yet, you stupid old Rod!
Dom…?
There was a second of silence, and then Harry gasped as her head was hit with blinding pain... before easing. The clawed hands gripping her mind and raking through it, wreaking destruction, seemed to release her, and Harry shuddered once before blinking back tears.
She could see. Her head didn't hurt as much either.
Her eyes started streaming.
There, there, kid, Dom said gently.
I-I couldn't hear you before! Harry told him, a bit hysterical, Where were you?
Where was I? Dom sounded a bit mad, but took the mental equivalent of a deep breath and said, I was taking care of Zuriel for you. Anyway, you can leave him here and focus on getting out now.
I can't, Harry told him sadly, I can't break the wards or evade them or- or anything!
Dom sighed, Well then, you have to find a place to hide. You can't stay in the line of common sight, especially not like this.
Treeslider was saying something about that, I think, Harry's mind slowly began to reassert itself.
You better listen to your snake, then.
"Right," Harry mumbled aloud, before craning her sore neck to look down at her snake.
She didn't know how she knew, but he seemed as utterly despondent as she had been a few minutes ago. When he saw her meet his gaze, he rubbed his head against her arm.
"You're fine, Ssspeaker," Treeslider hissed slowly.
"Of courssse, friend," Harry smiled weakly, "How could I not be, with you?"