Indelible

Sorry this is so late. I’ve had family problems that I wont bore you with, lets just say ‘trouble’, ‘stepdad’ and ‘argh!’. Anyway, enjoy the chapter, I know its short but the next chapter will be longer. And he’ll be older then as well!

Someone hit the trip switch… and everything in my house has been slowly lacking power all day – I only noticed when my beloved computer died!

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Words: 2,612
Chapter 3
The Others
It was dark where He was. Dark, and cold. So very cold. But fortunately for Him, he wasn’t quite capable of feeling the cold at the present moment. In fact, Lord Voldemort hadn’t felt anything in quite a long time.

You see it all began on Halloween 1981, when an infant Harry Potter destroyed his body. The same child who now resided in Azkaban Prison. While he was bodiless, his spirit had survived the attack, and had fled. Now, many years later, Lord Voldemort was at last strong enough to possess humans – rather than snakes and rats. For the past three months Lord Voldemort had been inhabiting the body of a Muggle who unhappily crossed paths with the Dark Lord.

The Muggle was of average height, not too tall, but not too short. He was thin, and pale with white hair and red eyes. An unusual look, but Lord Voldemort felt it made a statement. He was different; even when he was possessing Muggles – they were different too. Special.

For a Muggle, the specimen wasn’t too bad.

Lord Voldemort brushed down his – Muggle – shirt and trousers and stood. He had been sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, trying to concentrate on the magical signature that surrounded his Dark Mark and his horcruxes. So far, he had ascertained that many of his followers were in Azkaban – the wards of the Prison negated his control over his followers, so on occasion Voldemort mistook them for dead. Wormtail, he discovered, was the closest follower. He would summon Wormtail then, he decided.

After all, it wouldn’t do to have the Dark Lord fend for himself in the wild.

Maybe Wormtail knew where his wand was.

He sat back down, and crossed his legs. His eyelids slipped down and he took a deep breath before he signalled out Wormtail’s magical signature. When he found the bile yellow coloured thread of magic, Lord Voldemort tugged sharply and smirked as he felt – not heard – a yelp of pain.

Then he heard the sound of apparation, a pop, and opened his eyes to find Wormtail hunched over in front of him, trembling in fear.

“My Lord,” the rat-faced man breathed and bowed once more. “You’ve returned!”

“Indeed,” he drawled, standing back up. “And no thanks to you, Wormtail.” The man cowered and began to make apologizes which were cut short by an imperious wave of Voldemort’s borrowed hand. “Tell me, my loyal follower, what have you been doing with yourself?”

“Spying for you, my Lord!” He smiled, self satisfied and bowed once more.

Lord Voldemort didn’t look impressed and Wormtail’s smile dropped off his face. He swallowed nervously. “And what did you find out my servant?”

Wormtail gulped. “The Chamber of Secrets was opened this last school year, my Lord. One girl was killed, but they aren’t blaming it on the ‘monster’. Genevra Weasley was the one who opened the Chamber, and she died in it, my Lord.”

“How?” He glared. “How did that Muggle lover open my ancestors private sanctum?”

Wormtail shifted his weight nervously. “She had a diary. I’ve heard Malfoy talk, my Lord, his son tells him that Dumbledore announced a part of your soul was in the journal.”

“Did my soul fragment die with the girl, Wormtail?” Voldemort frowned; he hadn’t felt any pain, a part of his couldn’t have just died without him realizing. Not to mention he had a vague recollection of conversing with that part of him – Tom as he chose be addressed as – not too long ago. Well, it hadn’t felt too long anyway. But time passed differently when you were a disembodied spirit, so for all the Dark Lord knew, Harry could have been arrested five years ago. He couldn’t remember what he and Tom had spoken about, but he did know that Bellatrix Lestrange and Harry Potter were somehow involved.

Could it be, Voldemort mused, that Potter had been injured trying to save the silly girl? He didn’t know where Bella came in though.

“No, my Lord. Malfoy believes that it resides in the girls supposed killer.” Voldemort raised an eyebrow requesting Wormtail elaborate. “The boys eyes flashed red when he was arrested. Malfoy is trying to remove him from Azkaban.”

“Was he successful?” Wormtail shook his head. “How long ago, Wormtail?”

The man gulped, “Malfoy has been trying for three months, my Lord.”

Lord Voldemort felt the Muggles eyebrow twitch. It was a rather annoying sensation, so he clamped a hand to his forehead, pressing against his eyebrows, while making it look as if he was exasperated with Wormtail, rather than his eyebrows. “Who killed the girl, Wormtail?”

With a deep breath he said, “Harry Potter,” and Voldemort resolved to be very pissed off with Lucius Malfoy for not trying harder.

“Who gave her the diary?” He asked tightly desperately wishing for a wand so he could Crucio someone.

“Malfoy.” Wormtail squeaked and Lord Voldemort let out a roar of anger. When he had calmed down, Wormtail was once again hunched over, cowering at his feet.

“Pathetic,” he thought.

And in reply, he heard, “isn’t he just?”

After a moment trying to reign in his surprise, Voldemort spoke. “Hello Tom, enjoying Azkaban?” Lord Voldemort had not heard Tom in his head the last time they spoke, because he didn’t have a corporeal head at the time. Rather it was a whisper, Tom’s voice carried on the wind towards him; quiet and unassuming by the time it reached his mind. So quiet he could almost not hear it, nor remember what was said after a new whisper came floating towards him.

“It is tolerable I suppose. Harry and I are opposite Sirius Black. We spoke of him, do you remember? Bellatrix – we spoke of her too – is a few cells away. The most trying thing about Azkaban would probably be her begging me to speak to her. The woman may possibly be insane. But Harry likes her well enough, so I wont kill her when given the chance.” Tom drawled happily occupying Harry’s body while the boy rested.

Unlike Tom, Voldemort’s possession killed the soul of the person who owned the body originally. Voldemort could leave as he chose to, and the body would be nothing more than a shell. But at the age Tom was he had not yet learnt to make or resurrect Inferi and so if he killed Harry’s soul, Harry’s body would die as well.

“Harry Potter, a criminal, what a novel thought. Do they not worship him as I had heard?”

“Oh, they do, for the most part. The only people who believe Harry is guilty are Dumbledore, Minister Fudge and Ronald Weasley – Harry’s ex-best friend. Of course, there are one or two other narrow minded morons, but they aren’t important enough to mention. And how are you, enjoying wherever it is you’re sulking about in? I notice you found yourself a body. How long has it lasted?” Tom asked curiously, folding Harry’s arms over his chest.

“Find my wand, Wormtail.” He ordered and waited until the man had apparated away. “Lord Voldemort does not sulk! I have had this body as long as you have been in Prison, Tom. And I believe I am hear Ottery St. Catchpole, but I could be wrong.”

“Lord Voldemort is never wrong!” Tom hissed, and actually blushed when he realized he wasn’t chastising Harry, but talking to Lord Voldemort himself. Voldemort smirked slightly. The foolishness of youth, he mused.

“Wormtail is with me. But soon I will gather the rest of my followers and find a way to get a body of my own. Then I will come for my most loyal followers in Azkaban.” He seemed to be hinting something, and Tom snorted.

“I am loyal to myself alone, Voldemort. And make no mistake, Harry is mine, not yours. I reside in Azkaban to keep Harry, and myself, safe for the time being. Not out of loyalty to you.” Tom woke Harry up and retreated to the back of the child’s mind. He refused to speak to Voldemort.

Lord Voldemort was outraged by the lack of respect, and really wanted a wand so he could Crucio someone.

XXX

Harry opened his eyes and yawned, his jaw popping slightly. He rubbed at his eyes and smiled when he felt Tom curl up in their bed in their Chamber over the lake of water, and fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. “Morning,” he muttered when he noticed Sirius staring at him.

“You’ve been thirteen for two months and I’m sorry I still can’t get you anything.” The elder Wizard shrugged his shoulders in a half-annoyed but half-not kind of way, and grinned widely. “I asked to owl Gringotts, but you remember what the Unspeakable said!” He actually hadn’t said anything. He had kicked Sirius through the bars of the cell.

“It’s ok, Siri.” He smiled back and stuck his arm through the bars to catch Sirius’ hand.

“Aw, is the itty bitty Potter all grown up?” Bellatrix’s voice drifted towards them. In the three months Harry had been there, quite a handful of people had been arrested and Bellatrix had to move cells. The cell she had been in was rather large, and the Unspeakables had placed three men in there together – probably hoping they’d kill each other. Bellatrix was placed in a cell half the size of Harry’s, right beside Sirius Black’s cell. Harry could see into hers just as well as he could view Sirius.

He had gotten use to her teasing during their time there. “You know as well as I do Tinkerbell, I’m thirteen. Not thirty!” He stuck his tongue out and scrunched his nose up as he fought not to giggle.

Sirius snorted, bending his arm and taking his hand from Harry’s to wave at Bellatrix. She scoffed at him. “The term would be ‘growing up’.” Sirius corrected with a laugh. “Not ‘grown’.”

“You never know, cousin mine, he could be ‘grown’ by the time he leaves this wretched place!” She spat at the floor by her feet in disgust. Sirius felt like copying her.

“Don’t say that. He’ll get out.” He really hated Azkaban, and after wasting so many years of his life there he had no wish for Harry to suffer the same fate. “He’ll get out, you’ll see.”

“Teach me to turn into a dog, Siri, and we’ll dig under the wall and swim to shore.” Harry grinned.

Bella started to cackle. “Oh, and of course that would work!” Sirius blushed crimson; that was exactly what he had been planning before Harry came to Azkaban.

And it bloody well would have worked, he thought determinedly.

XXX

Lucius Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose and scowled. Draco had been back at school for but a month and Lucius had already received twenty owls home, filled with complaints about Dumbledore and Weasley and Mudbloods in general. At first it was the usual complaints Draco had: Granger beat him in an exam, he missed the Snitch again, Weasley #6 was a pain and got in a fight with him, etc. But then they changed. Draco began to complain about Dumbledore’s new rules, new teams, and the fact that the only people who received detention since school started up again were Slytherins.

Lucius was quite beside himself. He truly didn’t know what to do.

Fortunately he had not been linked to the Chamber fiasco from last year, and he retained his place on the Board of Governors. He quickly penned a few letters and summoned his owl. In twenty minutes, the entire Board and the faculty of Hogwarts (minus Dumbledore) would be meeting at Malfoy Manor.

Dumbledore really was beginning to test his patience.

Especially considering the last letter he received from Draco. Dumbledore had dared use Veritaserum on his son! And had questioned Draco about him, about Lucius and his involvement with the death of Ginny Weasley and why he wanted Harry in St. Mungos. Thankfully, Draco didn’t know the truth. Lucius would, at that moment, hunt Dumbledore down and kill him, if he thought he could get away with it. But landing himself in Azkaban would do nothing to protect Draco, nor free Potter.

XXX

The Headmasters Office was, usually, a place of serenity and comfort, where students could go to seek advise and find help for problems of any sort. But with the behaviour of Albus Dumbledore lately many students were afraid of even setting eyes on him at meals in case he noticed them back. The Slytherins were especially fearful. Many had turned to Professor Snape, the only Slytherin ex-student on staff, but there wasn’t much he could do.

Dumbledore felt like he was losing control of everything. He needed to have control, and he truly believed the new measures he was taking would grant him that control and help the students in the long run.

Slytherins had classes with Slytherins only. The other three Houses were mixed, like they had been years previous.

Punishments towards Slytherins were more severe.

Anybody talking pleasantly about Harry Potter, or mentioning an appeal of his sentence, would be punished regardless of the House. Slandering Potter, however, granted you fifty House points – and many people said things they didn’t mean just for the points. Others refused to!

Newspapers were banned. No one would be permitted to read them, on the off chance that there was another Petition printed on Harry’s behalf. Despite the fact that Dumbledore had Minister Fudge change the laws Lucius Malfoy still managed to convince the man to sign the permission forms now needed to print Petitions.

A team of students were established to ‘protect’ other students. What they really did however was carry out searches and report anyone they suspect of using Dark Magic, owning Dark Artefacts or being on Harry’s side. Draco Malfoy had been reported 58 times in one month but every single Gryffindor. The rest of the Slytherins were close behind… but Ron Weasley really didn’t like Malfoy.

You may ask why Dumbledore would willingly abandon his Saviour. The precious Boy-Who-Lived. Why forsake him, and risk the anger of Witches and Wizards everywhere?

It all started with a Prophecy; one that claimed that Harry would either kill the Dark Lord, or be killed by him. Marked as Voldemort’s equal Harry’s fate was decided when he was fifteen-months-old. And to think, Harry didn’t actually know any of this! But Dumbledore did.

Unfortunately there was something else Dumbledore knew and something he didn’t. He knew, of course, that Tom Riddle now inhabited the body of the last remaining Potter, which meant that Lord Voldemort would use the same body to rise to power and destroy the Wizarding World.

What he didn’t know was that, unlike he thought, Harry’s soul was still alive and well, and Tom had no plans to remove or destroy that soul.

So when he condemned Tom Riddle to Azkaban in the hopes of keeping him from finding the spirit of Lord Voldemort, he also condemned Harry to hell.

Which, to be fair, was not his intent.

Foolishly, he believed that he was doing the right thing, and refused to listen to the voice at the back of his head – his conscience – that tried to remind him that, at sixteen-years-old, Tom Riddle had not mastered the art of Necromancy. He refused to believe Harry could be alive and condemned. Albus Dumbledore was a hero, and heroes didn’t make mistakes, did they? And Dumbledore was convinced he was right, and that he was doing the right thing.

Thwarting Lord Voldemort was for the greater good, and in war innocents are always sacrificed.

XXX

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Enjoy, and please review! And hey, I passed all my exams! Yay!