A Soul Within

*There is a slight mention of another fandom in this chapter. If you don’t know it, you would probably miss it. Can you guess?


Chapter Two


The sun was warm on his skin. The crashing of the waves soothing to his mind. He had handed in his resignation at the Ministry three weeks ago and it was a week now that he had been lounging on the beach on a very private island that the goblins at Gringotts had arranged for him. Not known to many; not on any kind of map, Muggle or wizard. It was nice to do what he wanted for the week; sleep in when he wanted, go to bed when he wanted, or sunbathe nude if he wanted. Which he was doing at that very moment with a book in his lap.

He had brought the two journals that were found at the Riddle house, and finished ‘The Founders Four’ already. It was filled with information about the school and the founders, some he knew of, some he didn’t. He knew of most of the hidden passageways already, even a few that were not in the journal. The school’s magic was always creating passageways and rooms wherever it was needed. It was like that since the founders’ death, their magicks ingrained into the very stone of the school. The founders said that their burial would be on school grounds. The Main Hall, as he knew it, was once a ballroom where they had classes in dancing and formal etiquette. The dining was taken in another room just off of the ballroom. Harry hadn’t ever come across that room. He couldn’t wait to explore the school when he got back. He had already owled Minerva McGonagall, the Headmistress to get permission. She was looking forward to the adventure also.

The journal not only told of the beloved school, it also had notes and such from the very founders, their personal thoughts and ideas for the school, much like his personal school books in his time.

He always figured Rowena Ravenclaw was kind of standoffish by the rumours and books. She was one of the smartest witches of their time, but come to find out, she was also a bit of a prankster, and close friend to Salazar Slytherin. He figured George would love to find out some of the pranks and tricks that were played so long ago. He also read a bit of her private life. She had married a Lord, and had two children, a boy and a girl, and they lived in a separate wing of the school from the other founders.

Godric Gryffindor was a serious sort. He liked to have fun, but he was quite insistent on training the children to defend themselves, by hand and magic. He had been friends with Helga Hufflepuff before the fateful day they all gathered to talk of a school for the magically gifted. A betrothal was made by Godric’s family, and he held up to it, marrying a young girl that was not mentioned much in the text, except to mention the birth of his two sons. It sounded like a loveless marriage, especially when Harry read the brief mention of another lover that was teaching music to the students.

Helga Hufflepuff had the gift of a very successful green thumb, as everyone knew to this day. She was responsible for growing the many plants and herbs that Salazar and his apprentice needed for the potion classes. She also tried her hand in cross breeding some of the plants, some deadly, most quite successful. At that time there were no greenhouses and instead there were magical fields around the plants to keep them in, and keep the students out unless in class. Included in the diary were drawings of some of the plants and trees with descriptions and Harry made a note to show them to Neville one day and see if they differed much from what the students saw in class now. It was Helga that had first bred a plant that had a life of its own and the seeds harvested for later times. Harry figured that was where Dumbledore got the seeds for the Whomping Willow. That tree was deadly if not stroked to its liking.

While reading, he felt a smile come to his face at the exploits of the founders, a warmth spreading through his body. When he came to the neat scrawl of Salazar Slytherin the first words were ‘Never tickle a sleeping dragon’, in Parseltongue. There was a drawing of Salazar sitting outside on the front of the school steps, with a small dragon lying at his feet. He had a sudden memory of a dragon trying to fly, or blowing a puff of smoke when it was quite young and it was woken up from slumber, or feeling heat on his hand when it was older. Harry shook his head and closed the book, trying to get his mind back to the now. Lately he seemed to have warm spells, or thoughts and memories that were not his own. His dreams were another thing entirely.

Harry had had erotic dreams before, but there was always a face to his fantastical lover. Lovers that had been real to him at one time or another in the past few years or even just people he’d met and thought about frequently. But in these recent dreams, he felt more than he saw. The images were hazy, like quick flashes, but the feelings were intense . . . real. His body would arch up into the touch of ghostly lips, a wet tongue, or a playful nip onto his skin. Soft strands of hair would brush against him, as warm hands slid up and down his body. A low moan would escape past his dry lips when he felt a solid body press against him, his back molding against the soft mattress. A hardness softly rubbing against his cock, his legs wrapping around flexing thighs as he thrust up for more pressure. His hands slid along slick skin of his lover’s waist to his back, while the other one came up to tangle in the silken strands of hair to pull him closer, lips sliding wetly against the other’s. His lover would pull away, his lips trailing down to his neck, his panting breaths sending delicious shivers up and down Harry’s spine. Their bodies slick with sweat, he felt his orgasm fast approaching. His neck arched back, the other nibbling his way down to his racing pulse. A moan vibrated against his neck, teeth bit down harder, as the skin was sucked in taut, his orgasm ripped out of him at the heady combination of pleasure and pain he felt. He would wake up with the sheets sticky with cum, and his hand wrapped around his cock.

That was just one of the few that Harry had experienced over the past week. There were times he was the aggressor, or there were even times he just felt a warmth against him as he slept, a feeling of being held, soft kisses on the side of his neck as he went into a deeper slumber. It was always the same man, even though he never clearly saw a face. It was more of a feeling. He could tell the man had dark hair, possibly as black as his own. Broad shoulders, firm body, and hands that knew manual labour. Some mornings he seemed to still feel those hands on his body. The first morning after he woke up from one of the more erotic dreams, his heart skipped a beat when he looked in the mirror after showering, for on his neck was a purpling mark, a love bite that still felt tender to the touch.

He was tempted to owl Hermione, or even Draco, to ask their opinion on what could be happening to him, but something held him back. He had heard of something similar happening to a friend of his that he met a few years back when he traveled to the American Ministry of Magic through Auror training. Alexander lived on a mouth of hell, a gateway to the demon world, and he had always had weird things happen to him. He had had a primal hyena make a home in his body and mind when he visited the local zoo, then a soldier from a costume on Halloween. He was aware of what was going on, but was unable to stop what his body was doing at the time. Alex’s friends thought the possessions had been taken care of, but some small part of the entities stayed with him; part of the reason he probably stayed alive for so long in that place.

For Harry, personally it didn’t feel like a possession really, like the other was taking over his body. He had no blank spots, no missing time. He scanned his body to see if he had any hexes or spells cast on him without his knowledge, and it came out clear. He would have been a little put off about it, but the dreams were only comforting, like they wouldn’t harm him. He had been feeling like something was always missing in his life, now suddenly it seemed like he was feeling complete, that missing void was slowly being filled. It wasn’t something he wanted someone else to pick apart, and he knew if he told someone, like Hermione, she would research the hell out of it to see what was ‘wrong’ with him. No, he would not be telling Hermione. For now he would keep it to himself.


~*~


Harry had finished the week off on the private island, alone, and enjoying the peace and quiet. Then in a complete turnabout he had Portkeyed to Jamaica’s Hedonism event. The hotel room was luxurious with a gorgeous ocean view, and a king size bed that was rarely slept in. He was able to swim in the ocean or in the pool, bathing trunks worn rarely. He partook in many parties, like the Pirate and hot booty beach party or the pajama parties. He had enjoyed himself for the week, but soon he was onto the next part of his trip, which he was looking forward to the most. It wasn’t an island, but it was close.

He felt the Portkey vibrate in his hand, readying himself for the landing at the warehouse at the dock in Fiji. From there he jumped on a mini-submarine where it led him to the Poseidon Undersea Resort. A resort forty feet underwater that just opened to the well-paying customer. Harry knew it would be worth every Galleon that was spent. Down there, he spent most of the week by himself, having had plenty of company in Jamaica. He took advantage of the spa facilities, the diving, the six restaurants, and the seven bars. He was tempted with the many offers of companionship, but wished to be alone most of the time. He would take slow walks through the hallways of the resort, smiling to himself when he saw the underwater wildlife frolicking around above him through the thick pane of glass. It was nothing like when he was in the lake at Hogwarts. The water was clear and had no deadly magical creatures trying to kill you. When he was in his hotel room, lying on his back on the bed or sitting back on a reclining lounge chair, he felt like he was inside a large fish bowl.

The night before he was to leave the underwater resort, he stayed inside his rooms. He had walked by the mirror on the closet door before pausing to face his reflection head on. He would have sworn on Dumbledore’s grave that his eyes looked grey for the quickest of moments. He pulled a chair to the mirror and sat down, closing his eyes and then opening them again to see if his eyes had changed color again.

“Who are you?” he softly said. “How long have you been here with me?”

He thought back to when he first felt this presence inside himself. He remembered feeling a warmth the night he had gone to Riddle manor, but nothing for a few days after that. He had picked up many things at the manor, being as cautious as he could. He didn’t find or sense any harmful magic in anything he had touched, or felt a coolness run over his body where a ghost might have drifted through him, as he was used to from the ghosts at Hogwarts. He knew it was a man, the memory of the very hard body pressing him into the mattress in his sleep, or the feel of a hard cock fucking him from behind as he was doing someone in front of him on the Hedonism island. A very kinky feeling. It wasn’t something he would soon forget. Although this presence didn’t feel harmful to him, it was beginning to bother him. Something that felt so right would never become reality for him, and he wasn’t sure he could go through life like this.


tbc


Note: There really is Hedonism events on Jamaica that has the Pirate booty and pajama parties. Also, there really is the Poseidon Undersea Resort in Fiji - not opened yet. You can google these for more information. Personally the Undersea Resort I think would be amazing. Digitallace....if you see anything that could be corrected with the little bit I added, let me know, and I’ll fix it. If you haven’t read any of her fics, I would highly recommend to.