No more lies (To Victory)

CHAPTER 18

Harry stared at his reflection with barely concealed horror.

His neck and chest were littered with bites. He looked like he was mauled.

There were bruises on his wrists from where Tom held him down, and-

"Hmm, that looks just about right."

Harry threw the filthiest glare he could muster at the slytherin. "I can't go out like this!" he hissed.

"Whyever not?" Tom pressed himself against Harry’s back, arms wrapping around his waist. "Don't you want the world to know you're mine?" He kissed one of the lovebites on Harry’s neck, smiling when goosebumps covered Harry’s skin.

"Have you forgotten that Snape is after my head? These," he motioned to the bruises, "will definitely come up."

"You should tell Snape then, that your partner is extremely possessive. Especially with so many undeserving eyes ogling you at every turn."

"Bloody hell."

"Oh, don't act as if you didn't enjoy me putting them there, darling: I recall you begging for more."

The boy's cheeks flushed with last night's memories, but he truly wasn't regretting them.

"The bruise balm won't remove them until my exam. Fuck. I won't ever live this down."

"Hmmm," Tom hummed against his neck.

"What are you, a part vampire?"

"Might as well be."

"Well, Mr Vampire, come on. We need to pen an answer to your unflattering half and… well, I need to figure out that bloody egg. It completely slipped my mind."

Tom froze.

"It slipped your mind?"

Harry smiled sheepishly. "There's still time. In fact, Moody was the one to pester me about it. Now that I think about it, he was acting… I don't know, it was suspicious. I felt like he was just waiting for an opportunity to attack me, which is simply ridiculous."

"Is it? He's known for hunting dark wizards, and darling… hate to say it, but you reek of dark magic. Partly due to me, but the spells we practise aren't light in nature. He might be picking something up."

The gryffindor rolled his eyes. "I'm well aware and I don't recall complaining. Doesn't give him the right to pry into my life, does it?" Harry frowned, thinking back on their interaction. "He probably suspects something. Dumbledore must've blabbered."

"Perhaps. You should steer clear of him, just in case. Come. The letter won't write itself."

In the end, they started hexing each other.

Tom refused to allow Harry write anything after the line 'Tom is my kitten, therefore, your understanding of pets is completely wrong and outdated' made itself known on the parchment. 

"I will not have you aggravating that lunatic more than you already have, Harry! This isn't a game. He doesn't see things from our perspective and will not hesitate to retaliate against you. It's… better if he stays under the impression you're under my control somewhat."

"Pretty sure I explained to him that it's not the case, no?"

"The truth doesn't matter here. If he believes he's not in control, he'll be unpredictable. We need him to be oblivious, to think he has an upper hand. Otherwise there will be no resurrection. No body. No sane Dark Lord."

"It's a slippery slope…" Harry muttered, lost in thought. "We should get everything ready in Malfoy's ritual chamber, in case we get to do the ritual earlier than June. Because let's face it, he'll probably try to kidnap me."

"We'll be prepared for that." Tom paused with a contemplative look on his face. "Unless he tries to speed up the timeline now that he knows we're aware of his whereabouts."

"It's going to be fine," Harry said with unusual amounts of optimism that had Tom arching those ridiculously handsome eyebrows. "What? Weren't you the one blabbering about being blessed last night? Sure, our plan isn't without hiccups, but we'll make it."

That seemingly relaxed Tom. "You're right, dear, as is the seer. Now, don't forget to send this." He pushed a letter into Harry’s hands, smacking them away when Harry tried opening it. "Leave it be. I don't want you writing something outrageous again or getting any ideas."

A pout sprouted on the boy's lips. "You're no fun."

"I am plenty of fun, but you have work to do. Go send my reply and locate that damn egg. It's time we figure out that clue."

"You realize I won't be able to come down until night or even tomorrow? I have a feeling Snape won't be letting me out of his sight for a while."

"Tell him you're working on a Tournament. He isn't an idiot and will understand, especially if you carry the egg with you. Where is it anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm pretty sure I left it in my drawer. Unless it's still in the Slytherin dorms? That night is kind of a blur to be honest."

"Unbelievable." Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 A gein spread over Harry's face. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Tom, I have almost two months left to prepare."

"You shouldn't waste time."

"This takes priority. Besides, I have my own flock of slytherins to terrorise, and- oh! I need to find Karkaroff."

"Whatever for?"

Harry shrugged. "Gonna hiss at him or something. He's getting too comfortable around here."

"Whatever you wish, darling, “Tom said placatingly. “Now, get out of here. I needn't any distractions while I work."

"Am I that distracting?"

"Immensely." Tom's eyes zoomed in on Harry’s neck once more. "Leave, before-"

Harry pecked him on the lips, leaving Tom momentarily speechless, and sprinted towards the exit. "Bye kitten!"

Tom closed his eyes.

The line between his need to kiss and kill Harry was blurring each day.

Harry seriously contemplated just turning around and fucking off.

Snape's office door had no right to be so intimidating, even if Snape intended it to be so.

He was Harry fucking Potter. He faced Voldemort drunk off his arse mere days ago. He survived the Dursleys. He survived everything without flinching and this is what terrified him more than the Dark Lord himself?

Pathetic.

The door swung open before whatever was left of his courage evaporated, and Snape's dark eyes gazed directly into his soul.

Snape definitely knew what Harry was thinking of doing, and smirked.

"Inside, Potter. There will be no dilly dallying."

Oh, how Harry longed to be just a regular, boring, nondescript student that nobody paid any attention to. He'd be free of this nonsense.

"Sit down. The healer isn't here yet, so we have some time to spare." He snapped his fingers and a cup of tea appeared. "Drink, Potter."

Harry did as he was told, sniffing the tea-

"Calming draught, professor? Really?"

Snape stared unapologetically. "I figured you'd need it. Surprised you recognized it. Five points to Slytherin."

"Hey!" Harry bristled. "How is that fair? I'm a gryffindor!"

Professor snorted. "As if. Drink your tea, Mr Potter."

"Will you be taking points from Slytherin as well when I mess up?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Potter."

"Sounds like double standards to me, professor."

Snape didn't even grace him with an answer, choosing to smirk behind his own cup instead.

The situation was so utterly bizarre that Harry was having a hard time believing someone wasn't impersonating Snape.

"I expect you to be polite and on your best behaviour," professor said suddenly. "You may have your secrecy, but I will not have you acting like an uncouth hooligan."

"I can behave myself, professor."

"See that you do."

Was Snape expecting to start raving? While Harry did feel an urgent need to blast through the door and leave, he wasn't about to act on it. He could control himself.

A bright green flare from the floo lit up the room, and the imposing figure had Harry freezing in his seat.

"Thanks for coming, Cissa," Snape stood to greet the woman, smiling. Which was just all kinds of wrong on itself.

"Of course, Severus. And- o-oh!" Her eyes widened when they landed on Harry and realisation swept over her. A look of horror was quickly masked by a polite smile. "Heir Potter, a pleasure to see you again."

"Lady Malfoy," Harry stood up, inclining his head. "I'll admit, I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Duty calls," she answered simply, sharing a look with Snape that Harry didn't like one bit. "So the secrecy contract was for you?" Harry nodded curtly. "Very clever. I was wondering why would someone require such an iron clad contract, but now it makes sense."

"The foolish child wouldn't even consider it otherwise," Snape sneered. "Come." He motioned for Harry to follow, nodding to a door that seemed to have appeared out of thin air. Clever. "I don't have all day."

"Oh, hush, Severus," the witch quipped, walking into the room as well. It looked very much like a living room would and Harry was instantly on edge - did Snape make this place to emit cosiness and put him at ease on purpose? Because it was doing the complete opposite.

It felt like a trap.

"Considering I will be your healer, you may call me Narcissa," the witch said, shocking Harry out of his stupour.

"I prefer my own name as well," Harry smirked. He knew exactly what they were trying to do and it wasn't working.

It probably would work on anyone else, put them at ease, but Harry's nerves were frying on the edges and even with the calming draught pumping through his veins, he couldn't help but be on edge.

"Well then, Harry, this is how this is going to work. I'll cast a diagnostic charm that will tell me if you have any alignments that need our immediate attention right now. Then, I'll give you a potion that will be followed by another spell that will give us your health history, as well as tell us of any underlying issues that need to be treated. As you know, none of that information will leave this room."

Harry nodded curtly.

He was unhappy with the whole thing, but wasn't about to embarrass himself and run away. He wouldn't get far with the look Snape was giving him anyway. That man was fast. 

"Aren't you going to leave?" He asked the wizard, having a sudden urge to irritate the hell out of him. Maybe he'll storm off on his own.

"No. These proceedings are always observed by a professor. Don't even start, Harry. Lie down on the bed and for once, don't argue."

Harry huffed.

The amused smile on Narcissa's face didn't go unnoticed.

"Just for the record, I'm here against my will and I hate this."

"We're fully aware," Snape said, voice full of exasperation. Harry’s stalling tactics weren’t fooling anyone, it seemed. That's what you get for dealing with slytherins.

"I also believe this is a waste of time. I'm sure Lady Malfoy has better things to do with her time."

"I take my duties seriously, Harry. Are you implying they're a waste of my time?" the witch asked slyly, and Harry blanched.

"Of course not. My apologies."

Everything happened very quickly after that.

Harry glared at Snape's ceiling, trying to ignore foreign magic enveloping him, sinking deep into his bones.

The potion was foul and he was certain Snape made it this way on purpose, but it allowed the magic to sink deeper into him, so much so that all of Harry’s instincts were screaming at him to repel it. To snap it back with such force it would leave a catastrophic backlash.

He pointedly refused to look at Snape or at Lady Malfoy - it felt too weird to call her Narcissa, no matter of her insistence.

Perhaps if Harry wishes for it hard enough, the couch would swallow him whole.

Severus truly expected Potter to run.

Despite the impressive mask of indifference he was wearing, Severus could detect fear easily. Not to mention his stiff posture, shaky hands and constant glances at the door that transmitted the boy's wishes for the whole world to see.

The calming draught was a spur of a moment idea. The boy had a nasty temper and Severus wouldn't put it past Potter to flee at the slightest provocation.

If his hand slipped and he gave a stronger dose than usual, it was nobody's business.

For a brief moment Severus doubted his choice in getting Cissa to do the job; there was clearly some history between them. Narcissa respected the boy; it was plain to see. And while respect was mutual, Harry was very obviously uncomfortable, despite their attempts to make the whole experience more comfortable for the youth.

Perhaps he should've gotten a stranger, but he trusted the witch with his life and she was excellent at her job. Hopefully, Potter wouldn't be too cross about it. Having a contract was most likely the only saving grace in the situation.

Narcissa handed him the first scan the moment it was done, and Severus couldn't contain his shock: the most current alignment the boy had were bite marks on his neck and chest, but he couldn't see any.

Potter must be using a glamour. That, however, was nothing compared to a very recent magical exhaustion. To words such as underweight and malnourishment.

Severus had questions, but he wouldn't be receiving any clarity until Narcissa finished with Harry’s medical history which seemed to be taking more time than usual. Whatever that was being written on the parchment had Narcissa's face contorted in horror.

Merlin gracious.

Severus didn't expect it to be so bad.

He summoned the first parchment, skimming over what should've been normal injuries a child had sustained throughout his younger years, but it was plain and simple abuse that had Snape's blood boiling.

How had nobody noticed? The neighbours or even teachers?

It didn't make any sense.

The second parchment was much the same, but the physical abuse lessened somewhat. However, when most injuries took place they were of a more serious nature than before. Broken bones. Repeated blows to the head. Concussions.

Severus felt an urge to kill somebody.

How was the boy even alive?

He summoned the third parchment, noting the injuries becoming rare once Harry started the school year.

He bristled when prolonged starvation showed up after the first year of schooling. That spiteful hag Tooney will never know a peaceful day after this; she will never be safe from him.

She will wish she was dead after Severus is done with her.

To do that to Lily’s child -any child - was cruel beyond any imagination.

Then- Snape paused.

Magical drain by a dark artefact.

What the hell could this be?

The same sentence continued on well into the boy's third year, where Severus could see Potter's health declining significantly due to dementors exposure.

Damn Sirius Black. Guilty or not, he was the reason for those damned creatures haunting the school.

Nothing seemed to stand out up until the day of the Malfoy Yule Ball, where it was written, black on white:

Possession.

Severe magical exhaustion.

He recalled Potter not showing up to eat. He simply thought the boy to be hiding, but this?

Severus was beyond alarmed.

He didn't even wait to read what sort of lingering alignments the spell would suggest they'd heal; he had half a mind to legitimise Potter to get answers.

His shady behaviour and refusal to answer suspicious circumstances now made perfect sense.

“Would you kindly take off the glamour, Harry?” Narcissa asked gently, snapping Severus out of his murderous thoughts.

“No, thanks. Those marks aren't anything serious and a bruise balm is all that's needed.”

“Very well.” Narcissa conceded surprisingly easily. She was more persistent than that, Severus thought, frowning. “Well, then are you and your partner being safe?”

The boy sprung upwards and started coughing, his horrified expression and red cheeks bringing amusement to an otherwise dire situation. “That's- we aren't doing that!” The boy shrieked. “Not that it's any of your business!”

“Calm down, Harry, I'm just trying to help.” She flicked her wand and a teacup with finger sandwiches appeared in front of him. “Have some tea and snacks while I take a quick look at what you'll need, alright? It'll take just a minute.”

Surprisingly, Harry did so without making any fuss and tried to hide himself behind his teacup, clearly mortified by the direction this conversation was going.

The regret that Severus felt for not dowsing himself with the calming draught was immense. He needed one right now more than ever. If there was one thing he didn’t ever wish to know was Potter’s sexual history, even if, according to the boy, there wasn’t one.

Bloody hormonal teenagers.

Yet another reason to regret ever becoming a professor.

Narcissa moved to his table, her quill writing down what was no doubt a potion regime the boy will need to take to counteract the damage.

To his shock, he found her eyes teary.

“This is beyond terrible, Severus,” she whispered to him. “Who could do this to a child?”

Spiteful, jealous muggles who were afraid of magic.

“It's a miracle he's so strong. But this-” she tapped possession, “we must intervene. Something is draining his magic repeatedly. It’s yet to cause any lasting damage, surprisingly, but we cannot allow it to continue.”

“I'm well aware. But he must tell us what it is first. But if he's under some dark artefact’s control, it will not be easy.”

Potter was already stubborn as it was. Perhaps a dose of veritaserum…

“Harry,” Narcissa walked back to the teenager who looked to be utterly at ease, leaning back against the pillows. Another dose of the calming draught had clearly taken effect. “We found some concerning things, but nothing that cannot be fixed. You'll need to take potions for a while to strengthen your bones and immune system, as well as some nutritional potions and supplements, but that's the easy part.” The boy didn't say anything, just stared at Narcissa dispassionately. The brat clearly knew all about this already. “There's also a concern of badly healed bones in your left arm, as well as ribs. Those, unfortunately, will need to be regrown.” That got a reaction out of Potter - the boy groaned loudly.

“Not again. Lockhard already vanished my bones once and it was a bloody terrible experience. Isn't there any other way?”

“I doubt you'd prefer rebreaking your bones, Harry,” Snape spoke up, drawing the boy's attention onto him. “It's a much easier, safer, and faster way to just vanish and regrow the bones, despite the experience being… unpleasant. However, considering some of your ribs need to undergo this treatment, it will have to be done here, where we can monitor it and you. Removing ribs is incredibly dangerous and you will have to be completely still for the time of their regrowing. Otherwise it could easily puncture your other organs or grow wrong.”

“Ugh,” Harry furrowed his nose in disgust. “I'm fine the way they are now. Is that all? May I leave?”

“Afraid not, Harry,” Narsissa said. “I have several follow up questions concerning your multiple head traumas.”

“Just for the record, I'm fine,” the boy was unimpressed, but motioned for Narcissa to continue.

“Have you noticed any lapses in memory?”

“No.”

“Any dizziness? Nausea?”

“No.”

“Blurry vision?”

Harry smirked and motioned to his glasses. “I'm not imagining these, am I? Not exactly the picture of optimal eye health.”

Narcissa conceded with a small smile on her lips.

“Any light sensitivity?”

“Nope.”

“Difficulty concentrating?”

“Only when I'm bored. Or in History class.”

Neither Severus nor Narcissa saw this coming and let out a bout of undignified snorts that left Potter looking smug.

“Ever had trouble with balance?”

“Only balancing my life.”

“Potter,” Snape called out, exasperated, but was only given a shit eating grin in return.

“Do you have bouts of confusion? Find yourself in places you don't remember walking to?”

The boy's shoulder stiffened, but his answer was a resounding no.

“Headaches?”

“Just the normal ones.”

“Oh? I was under the impression a normal amount of headaches were none?”

Potter rolled his eyes. “Everyone is getting on my nerves this past year; it's bound to cause headaches.”

“What about migraines?”

“A rare occasion.”

“And lastly, how do you sleep?”

“Like a person who was entered into a damn tournament, Lady- ah, Narcissa. I sleep fine, don't worry. I've been busy, is all.”

“That's understandable, dear, you're under a lot of stress.” The boy nodded absentmindedly. “There is another thing in your test that worries me greatly. Now, you need to remember I'm here to help, not harm, and I'd appreciate honesty.” Narcissa's words had clearly put the boy on edge as he tensed all over and looked ready to pounce. It seemed that even the calming draught was unable to leave Potter open to interrogation: the boy’s eyes were just as sharp as before. It was both a relief and an annoyance. “It says you've been in contact with a magical artefact that's been drawing on your magic. For years.” Narcissa specified, getting ready to intervene if things went out of hand.

Harry's face turned white.

Severus could spot a guilty teenager from a mile away.

“Do you have any idea what that artefact might be, Harry?” Severus asked as gently as he was able, in case Potter felt threatened and decided to bolt. He did have a penchant for running off this year. “Because it’s dangerous to everyone around you, not just you.”

“Must've been a mistake,” the boy said eventually with faux bravado. “Perhaps some leftovers from when Lockhart removed my bones. Or the dementors.”

“This isn't a joking matter, Potter!” Severus hissed, stalking closer. “Several times you have suffered magical exhaustion. Now I can clearly see what happened back in autumn when I found you unconscious in the corridor. Of what happened after Yule, not to mention possession.”

Harry's face turned stark white with Severus's words and he seemed to stop breathing.

Severus didn't even give a shit that Potter looked ready to faint, because that wasn't an expression of someone who was in shock. That was an expression of someone who knew.

Who could have such control over the boy that he'd hide such information? That he wouldn’t seek help?

Then, it was like a light switch.

One moment Potter was slouched over, looking faint and another - a wand was in his hand and he looked ready to attack at a moment’s notice. Whatever hopes Severus harboured for the multiple calming draughts to keep Potter docile and manageable flew out of the window.

“You two are under contract and you will tell no one of what you learned today,” the boy's voice did such a 180 that Severus believed him to be possessed right now. He looked downright predatory and the air felt charged. He discreetly summoned his wand.

“Harry, we only wished to help you,” Narcissa's placating voice only seemed to anger Potter further and he pointed his wand at them. 

“Lady Malfoy, I urge you to recall whatever statements I've made in Hogsmeade and thread carefully,” the boy warned, glancing at Snape. “Not a move, professor. You even twitch at me and I won’t be responsible for what happens.”

“Harry, this isn’t a laughing matter. Someone - something, has been using you, draining your magic and taking possession over you. It’s not only detrimental to your health, but it’s a threat to your life I cannot risk.”

The boy hissed something in parseltongue. Severus braced himself, yet nothing happened.

He had to take action. Potter was clearly not in control of his actions.

However, he didn’t anticipate a spell flying towards him at lightning speed the moment he lifted his wand; he barely managed to produce a shield in time. How in Merlin’s name could Potter’s reflexes be so fast? It was almost inhuman.

“Potter, be reasonable!” he barked out, holding his hands in surrender.

“You signed a contract,” the boy hissed at him again. “I’m not being deceived - this whole thing was my choice in the first place. Possession… was a necessity at that time.”

Severus froze.

He shuffled through his own memories. How Lucius and Theonel repeatedly stated the boy’s actions reminded them of the Dark Lord. Of questions Lucius had asked him for months up until… until his Ball. Everything stopped after whatever transpired between Lucius and Potter behind closed doors. His friend looked petrified after that meeting.

The boy’s sudden delve into darkness, his proclamations about the Dark Lord, the weird control he had over their Dark Marks…

Realization dawned on him.

Good Merlin-

Lucius was right. Potter was being influenced by the Dark Lord and no one had ever suspected it.

He recalled the boy’s second year and the whole Chamber debacle. Whatever part of the Dark Lord that possessed the youngest Weasley child had clearly entrapped Potter in its coils. The timeline matched perfectly.

Unfortunately, Severus was at a loss of what to do. He only knew that he had to separate Harry and whatever that was possessing him.

“Lady Malfoy,” the boy spoke up, even though his eyes haven’t left Snape’s for a second, and from the knowing look Potter was bestowing upon him the brat knewexactly what he had figured out, and was unhappy. “Thank you for your help today, but this isn’t your problem. In fact, it isn’t a problem at all. Your husband knows exactly what is going on and you may confine in him, but I highly doubt he’ll elaborate. I did force him to swear a vow, just so this information doesn’t reach ears of people who could ruin years worth of plans. Don’t worry,” he hurried to add at her terrified face, offering Narcissa a smile. " He is more than fine and I’m sure the Dark Lord will reward him greatly for his help once he returns.”

Potter’s eyes snapped to him once more and Severus shuddered.

Influenced by the Dark Lord or not, Potter was terrifying in his own right.

“I’d appreciate your expertise, Lady Malfoy, but now I’d like a word with my professor. Alone.”

To Severus' shock, Cissa nodded and abruptly walked towards the fireplace, mouthing ‘later’ to Severus.

“Harry, I expect you to follow the regime I will appoint for you precisely, and to not make any fuss with your healing. We will be seeing each other weekly until I deem my services unneeded,” she said hastily, not leaving any room for an argument. “Have a productive chat, gentleman. My services better be unneeded after it." It was as much as a warning as a threat, before Narcissa flooed back home, leaving Severus alone with a psychotic child.

“I don’t need saving. I’m exactly where I want to be.” Potter didn’t even wait for the flames to return to normal before insisting. 

“What do the Malfoys know that has them so terrified of you?” Severus asked. Narcissa wasn’t one for backing down, but whatever happened in Hogsmeade seems to have changed her mind instantaneously. It was unnatural. What the hell has Potter been doing all this time?

The boy shrugged.

“You’ve already figured it out, professor.”

It wasn’t a question.

“The Dark Lord.”

“Hmm.” Harry looked completely unconcerned. “I hope that you still recall your own loyalties, professor. Especially with that pretty little thing on your left arm.”

He said nothing. He didn’t like where this conversation was going at all.

“Quite frankly, I didn't expect the diagnostic charm to pick up anything like this. Nasty little charm, isn’t it?” the boy sneered. “All of this could’ve been avoided if you hadn't insisted on this ridiculous exam.”

“This ridiculous exam is for your own safety, you foolish child,” Severus couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Clearly, you can’t be trusted with your own health considering what the charm had uncovered, not to mention that it is also evidence.”

“I will not allow you to air out my dirty laundry,” Harry hissed. “You may do as you wish with the whole ‘healing poor Harry Potter’ nonsense, but none of the info will leave this room.”

“You’re delusional if you think I’ll allow you to return to an abusive household. Your custody will have to be changed, legally, or Albus will treat it as a kidnapping.”

“My custody is nobody’s business,” the boy continued to insist, but he was a child - he had no choice.

“You’re not the first child I’ve removed from an unfit home, Harry. This will be handled discreetly-”

“It will not be handled at all,” the boy hissed again, his words bordering on parseltongue. “I’m never returning there anyway. I’ll allow you a small tidbit of information, professor - something, I hope, you won’t go spreading about.” The boy’s lips curled into an unhinged grin and he lifted his hand, hissing something. Shivers crawled down his spine after hearing parseltongue in such close proximity, but Severus ignored it once rings shimmered into existence on the boy’s hands. He stared. “While I still plan on cursing the one who entered my name into this damned tournament, I have to thank them as well. Due to that ridiculous age line and participation being adults only - I was immediately emancipated. Thus, the headmaster can’t do shit about where I go or don’t go. However, only a rare few know this information and it better stay private, professor.” That was a threat if Severus ever heard one. “Make no mistake, though,” Potter’s face turned downright predatory. “They will pay for what they’ve done to me. You needn’t worry.”

It explained Potter doing a whole 180 after becoming a champion - the boy was legally declared an adult. He didn’t have to dance to anyone else's tune but his own.

“Be it as it may, the magical drain on your magic is unacceptable,” Severus said, hoping this wouldn’t turn ugly. “Your core is still developing. It is detrimental to your health and wellbeing. I cannot allow this to continue.”

“You will.” Potter’s tone was soft, but the air suddenly felt charged. Never before had Severus felt like he was moment’s from being attacked than before now. “You have no choice.”

“Po- Harry-”

“No.” The boy snarled. “You don't have all the facts, professor, but if you continue on insisting, i will have no choice but to have you obliviated. Not even your occlumency will help you if it comes to that.”

The Potion’s Master almost staggered back. 

Potter wasn’t playing around or throwing around baseless threats.

It was as if he was completely convinced that obliviation will hold.

As if he’s done this before.

He managed not to let his panic show. He wasn’t a slytherin for shits and giggles. “You are doing little to convince me that this is the right thing to do, Harry. Perhaps you’re unaware of the ways it might affect you-”

“You needn’t interfere, professor. Don’t forget who you swore your loyalty to.” Potter hissed something and his mark flared to life, burning. “Your loyalties might be shifty, but you bear His mark. Remember, what I’m doing is for Him. I know you noticed your mark getting darker this year, and you aren’t wrong to assume the Dark Lord will soon walk amongst us again. Don’t ask me how I know - I shall not answer, but know that it’s only a matter of time and i will stand by Him. if you try to… interfere right now, you will be going against him.”

Severus felt his face drain of colour.

Merlin gracious, the Dark Lord seems to have ensnared Potter…

The boy’s eyes narrowed.

“If you go to that old fool with this information, or with any hints that might point at something being not right, know this, professor,” the boy leaned in closer, his eyes the coldest Severus’ has ever seen them. “The Chamber of Secrets can only be entered and vacated by a person who speaks parseltongue. If, say, someone were to be dropped in there by me… small chance they’d ever be leaving. No chance at all of them ever being found. Just a thought.”

Potter was threatening him.

“Twenty points from Gryffindor for threatening a teacher,” Severus said quickly, hoping to distract Potter and shock him out of whatever murderous state he was currently stuck in. “Twenty points to Slytherin for excellent delivery.”

An indignant ‘hey!’ was the boy’s answer. “How is that fair?! “

“It isn’t.”

It was a whiplash, seeing the boy going from all murdery back to a pouting child. Unnatural. 

“I will begin brewing the potions' you’ll require immediately, and will let you know of the regime once Narcissa sends it over. Don’t even think you’ll be getting out of it, Mr Potter. Not even your threats will be able to diffuse a force that is Narcissa Malfoy.”

“I figured.” the boy was clearly displeased but didn’t voice it. “Is that all? Or do you wish to interrogate me further, professor?”

“You may leave.”

“Well then, I hope to wake up and realize this was just a nightmare, professor. No offence.”

Severus allowed himself to roll his eyes. “Get out of here before I decide that scrubbing cauldrons might be just the right punishment for all of your cheek today, Mr Potter.”

That seemed to be the magic word the boy needed to vacate his quarters, but not before hissing at him about keeping quiet one more time.

As if the contract didn’t force him into silence either way.

Now, finally alone, Severus needed to check on something. Potter’s earlier comment made him suspicious. He needed to examine his mind.

Meanwhile, Narcissa was hurrying into her husband’s study.

Harry Potter was doing something dangerous and it involved her family. She couldn’t allow any of them to be hurt.

“Cissa? You’re back early, is everything alright?”

She shook her head. “I- I cannot talk about everything - I’m under a contract, but… it’s something relating to Harry Potter and the Dark Lord. What he hinted at at Hogsmeade and while he was here…” she saw Lucius face paling. “You know something.”

The blond nodded. “Yes, I do, but I’m… under a vow as well. That boy is sneaky and persuasive, but in broad strokes, we are to help our Lord return once more. Potter is vital in that plan.”

The witch nodded, connecting the missing dots in her mind.

Potter’s new attitude, willingness to delve into the dark arts, his medical history… everything Draco has told them, and Potter himself had hinted at, it all pointed to one thing; Potter was scheming to get the Dark Lord back.

But why?

She remembered him mentioning about their goals aligning, but that couldn’t be true.

"You found out something," Lucius muttered, frowning. "I-" he winced, "well, it seems both of us are restricted to our respective vows, but it all seems to be done by one person. Let us not speak about it any more until the time comes, less we break the contacts: such consequences would be most dire in both of our situations." Narcissa nodded. "Draco isn't in any danger, my dear, you needn't worry. Mr Potter seems fiercely protective of those he considers friends and our son seems to have warmed his way into Potter's circle. If things progress as planned, nothing will happen to him."

"Draco said something similar," she muttered, but she would never stop worrying for her little boy. She was his mother - that would never change.

"See? Nothing to worry about here, love. Come-"

"I cannot, Lucius, I will have to go back to Severus; my duties are yet to be finished. And since he is under the same contract as I, I am able to speak to him about what bothers me. Perhaps some parties can be persuaded to be less constrictive in said contracts."

"Very well, dear. Shall I come with?"

She shook her head. "No, perhaps another time. Or later. I'll see how everything goes."

With a nod and a kiss, Lucius let his wife go, both of them wondering just what kind of demon they let into their lives.

With a heavy frown Harry was heading towards the Room of Requirement, the Marauders Map in hand, just so he could avoid haggles of students hanging around and more importantly- teachers.

Especially Moody, who seemed to be in his quarters. Thankfully.

That man was giving Harry the ick. Probably was just itching to call Harry a dark wizard and wrap his wrinkly old hands around Harry’s slim throat.

He narrowly avoided bumping into Dumbledore that was walking alongside Madam Maxime and Karkaroff who Harry took great pleasure in tripping, snickering at the embarassed way the man tried to compose himself.

Bloody traitor. He wished he'd done that to Dumbledore too, but that would've been suspicious and the man would've felt his spell. Considering he knows Harry has an invisibility cloak, it would've been too dangerous.

He snuck into the Room of Requirement, wishing he had Tom with him. Exploring wasn't the same when you didn't have anyone to share your discoveries with.

"Harry…"

The boy shook his head. Bloody Snape. He was still out of sorts after that sham of an exam.

He was lucky they didn't dose him with something other than calming draught to get the truth out of him; he wouldn't put it past them. He was goddamn lucky to get out when he did.

"Harry…"

Not to mention now he'll have to endure Snape breathing down his neck from now on. And Narcissa bloody Malfoy.

Why her?

Why couldn't Snape choose someone anonymous? Someone who wasn't already in his life?

He thanked the gods for the contract he forced them to sign. He could deal with pitying looks from the two of them, but if his circumstances got out into the world? It would be a shit show.

He may have not enjoyed having to spill some of his secrets to Snape, but it was a necessity.

The boy was certain that if Snape believed he'd be going back to Dursleys, he would've gone straight to Amelia Bones. Or killed those bastards himself, but that was Harry’s pleasure to have.

If this happened last year… Harry would have clung to this opportunity like a lifeline. But now he had other options.

Emancipation was treating him well.

"Harry…"

The boy froze.

This- he wasn't imagining it. He heard a voice, the same voice, calling his name.

"Show yourself," Harry demanded, wand slipping into his hand with practised ease, a curse already in mind.

A distinct feeling of someone else being here with him, watching him, made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"You either show your face or I'll blow it into bits. I'm not above cursing anyone."

A distinct feeling not unlike laughter reached him, and a sudden rattling sound started sounded on one of the piles of stuff in the room. It looked vaguely familiar.

Wand drawn, Harry stalked closer.

Whatever that was goading him felt excited.

"You attack me and I'll start throwing unforgivables, ya hear me?"

Amusement.

What the fuck?

The sane part of his mind was telling Harry to run and not be an idiot. This whole place was full of dangerous things and this clearly was one of them.

It was somehow… communicating with him?

Tom would call him a reckless maniac, but Harry couldn’t help himself; he was intrigued.

It took a minute for him to push other junk aside to reach his goal: an old, ratty bag - or rather a cloth - that he never would’ve touched in a million years on his own free will. But that must’ve been exactly the point.

There was something heavy inside. Something… round?

The magic curling at his fingertips felt oddly familiar. It was like the things wanted to be picked up.

Sentient.

“Play nice, or I’ll chuck you into the sewer,” Harry muttered, and froze.

This… must be some joke, right?

He couldn’t have just found the lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw in a Roon of Hidden Things, at Hogwarts, of all places?

Just like that?

This must be a fake. A copy someone tried to make and ultimately failed, choosing to hide their shame somewhere no one would find.

There was only one way to find out the truth. By putting it on.

Yes, he should definitely put it on…

Harry froze with his hands raised, the diadem only a breath away from resting upon his head.

What the fuck was he doing?

Trying to put on an object that practically lured him over, almost spoke to him, and now he- what? Was going to try it out with no prior precautions?

“You sneaky little shit, you think I’d fall for it that easily? What do you take me for?”

The diadem became warm.

Sheepishness.

How could it be possible for it to communicate with him? For Harry to get a sense of its emotions?

None of it made sense.

But not many things were written about the diadem itself, apart from the only known fact that it grants its wearer wisdom. Perhaps it also communicates with the wearer? Harry had no idea. He never searched for information about the diadem itself, believing it to be lost to time.

Maybe Tom will be able to shed some insight. He was overly invested in Hogwarts and its history, which… made sense, considering who Tom was.

Tom…

He’d look pretty with the diadem perched upon that handsome head of his. Harry could almost already see him: lounging on a throne, a smirk on his face, a crown to tell the world of his ultimate superiority.

He’d love it.

It would fit you well… try it on…

Harry really shouldn’t. He had places to be-

Just for a moment. The knowledge you seek shall be provided…

Maybe… well, it wouldn’t hurt to try? Perhaps even help him to untangle the mess that was his life? The whole situation with Voldemort was tricky; the diadem might be able to shed some light on the situation. Wisdom, and what not.

Yessss…

Once more, Harry found himself with his hands raised, the diadem inches from his own head. It was if he was in trance, unable to resist the pull-

The moment it touched his hair, Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck raise. For a brief moment nothing happened, even when he waited with bated breath for his head to explode or something just as terrible.

Then, it felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped inside of his brain and his mind felt crisp and clear. As if all of the distractions disappeared, leaving only what he should truly focus on. Nothing else.

“Damn. It’s legit,” Harry muttered to himself, letting out a relieved laugh. He felt elated, refreshed-

-up until he felt a sharp pull in his mind and his consciousness started hurling towards the abyss.

Harry fell.

Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to touch sentient objects, Harry?

Silence.