Featherlight Taction

A/N: A few of you might not understand some of my song choices for a few chapters. I assure you though, they were all chosen for a reason. Some might seem corny or not fit the story at the time, but I don’t refer the songs specifically to the chapters they’re in. They’re about the entire story in general, so if you don’t understand a song at the time you read it, you will understand it later.

A/N 2: Also, this is the first time I’m going to do this, but I’m willing to consider suggestions for what you all want to happen in the story. Yes, I have most of what’s going to happen already planned out. The main plots points and huge events are set, but I’m willing to consider and possibly add and suggestions you might have, so feel free to throw ideas at me!

Now, enjoy! Slash still isn’t coming for a bit, but it’s close. I want to keep them in character, so I’ve got to be at last somewhat realistic here. :P

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Watched my life pass me by

in the rearview mirror

Pictures frozen in time

are becoming clearer

I don't wanna waste another day

stuck in the shadow of my mistakes

Cause I want you

and I feel you

crawling underneath my skin

Like a hunger, like a burnin

to find a place I've never been

Now I'm broken, and I'm faded

I'm half the man I thought I would be

But you can have

what's left of me.

I've been dying inside

little by little

Nowhere to go

I'm goin outta my mind

An endless circle

runnin from myself until

You gave me a reason for standing still

And I want you

and I feel you

crawling underneath my skin

Like a hunger, like a burnin

to find the place I've never been

Now I'm broken, and I'm faded

I'm half the man I thought I would be

But you can have

what's left of me.

Fallin' faster

barely breathing

Give me somethin to believe in

Tell me it's not all in my head

Take what's left of this man

Make me whole once again

Cause I want you

and I feel you

crawling underneath my skin

Like a hunger, like a burnin

to find the place I've never been

Now I'm broken, and I'm faded

I'm half the man I thought I would be

You can have, all that's left, what's left of me

I've been dying inside you see

I'm goin outta my mind

I'm just runnin' in circles all the time

-Nick Lachey – What’s Left of Me

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Featherlight Taction

Chapter 6- Acumen

Harry’s heart was racing as he tossed and turned in his bead. His mind kept stretching back to the event in the stone courtyard of Hogwarts. He and his friends had tried for days to figure out what had happened when Voldemort had touched him. So far, they’d found no answers.

As if there wasn’t enough going on in regards to Harry and the Dark Lord touching skin to skin. First, it had crumbled the dark wizard’s very physical foundation. Then it had caused Harry immense physical pain. Now it turned Riddle into… into what exactly? Was that what Tom was truly meant to look like? If not for the reincarnation in the graveyard. If not for the failed Avada Kedavra of 16 years ago…

Was the man Harry had seen in his dreams and now in reality the true face of Lord Voldemort?

Harry shook his head into the pillow. He had to stop thinking about this. He’d had enough of the subject for today.

Earlier that afternoon, the Weasley twins had come to visit the trio at Grimmauld Place. Ron told them of occurrences of the days previous and Harry explained about his dream. The twins seemed to think it was unimportant.

“So you’re saying Voldemort is the man of your dreams, Harry?” Fred… or maybe George had joked, prodding the teen in the arm playfully. Harry’d forced himself to ignore the twins’ humor, focusing in stead on a plan to obtain Helga Hufflepuff’s cup.

The rest of his day had been spent talking to Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks about where possible locations that Voldemort would want to keep something hidden. He hadn’t told them, of course, what exactly he was looking for, but the werewolf had guessed easily enough. After all, Harry hadn’t been exactly bright in asking Remus to bring him books on horcruxes. He was still cursing himself for that mistake.

Lupin, being the patient and understanding man that he was, had understood not to ask Harry questions, and though Harry’s quest was most obvious, they still spoke as if the older man was ignorant of Harry’s goals.

Harry rolled over once more, growling in frustration. He simply couldn’t stop thinking. How was he supposed to sleep with his mind running at two-hundred miles an hour? Sighing, he sat up in the dark room, defeated.

Grabbing his glasses and shoving them a bit too forcefully onto his nose, he padded in his bare feet out to the hall, heading down the stairs to the kitchen. If he wasn’t going to sleep, he might as well have a snack and do a bit of extra research. He couldn’t stand not doing something in his waking hours. He liked to be occupied.

The young wizard reached the kitchen and the candles above in the hanging lamps flickered on. Kreacher was rummaging around in his cabinet. He’d stolen back a few more Black heirlooms, no doubt. At hearing the slide of Harry’s feet on the wood, the gnarled elf started and turned around with a scowl.

“What’s dirty master Potter doing up at this hour?” Kreacher asked with a groan.

“Don’t call me dirty,” Harry muttered absently.

“I didn’t say nothing like that, Master,” Kreacher replied lowly, grumbling afterwards: “But he is dirty. Filthy muggle-love in poor Mistress’s home.”

Harry ignored the elf’s pointless ramblings and sat down at the table. Suddenly, a gut-wrenching pain cut through his forehead and he was no longer looking at the scraped surface of the kitchen table, but down at the placid face of Severus Snape. A fury cut through him, and only part of it was his own emotion.

A high, cold voice cut through his mind. Was it coming from his own lips? No, it was Voldemort speaking. He was having another vision.

“Have you found nothing?” Tom hissed lethally, narrowing his red eyes at Snape, whose expression remained stony.

“No, my Lord,” the potions master replied. “I’ve never heard of anything like this. I need more time to research it-“

“You’ve been given five days!” Voldemort snapped. “How is this not enough time to research. Are you studying this as thoroughly as you tell me? What are you hiding, Severus?” His tone was low and dangerous.

“I hide nothing from you, my Lord,” Snape answered dutifully. “This is simply unheard of magic. And I was not there to witness the incident, so I am running of very little information.”

“I’ve already explained it to you,” the Dark Lord retorted, “Numerous times. The boy touched me and my body was no longer the one you see before you. I was, to put in the most crude way possible, normal. You tell me that something so distinct cannot be found in my entire library or yours?”

“My Lord,” Severus began carefully, bowing his head slightly, “Though at first glance this seems to be simple magic, at further research it is extremely complex. Perhaps it could have been an illusionary charm, such as a powerful glamour, but you said that you could feel the changes physically, which means a glamour would have been impossible.” He took a breath, shifted his position, and continued. “It could have been some sorted of human transfiguration. However, I’ve known Potter for many years and he has never been capable of such magic. Granger might possibly have been able to cast such a spell, but as you tell me, she was restrained and wandless at the time, and none of them know wandless magic as far as I know.”

“Well then extend your knowledge!” Voldemort snarled, whipping out his wand quickly and pointing it directly at Snape’s throat. The Death Eater looked unfazed. “Find out why they were at Hogwarts. What has Potter been doing? What has he been training? Find this out for me or you will be punished!”

“I no longer have contact with anyone from the Order. They would turn me into the Ministry should I come near them or Potter. Since the death of the Headmast-“

“You are on of my Death Eaters!” Voldemort roared conclusively, as if this statement explained everything. “Contacts are no longer necessary. Find out a way to monitor Harry Potter. No excuses. Find reason to disobey me and I will not take it lightly.” His wand twitched a bit in his hand. He longed to cast the Cruciatus, merely because he was so frustrated with his lack of answers or explanations. However, it would not do to weaken Severus at the moment. If Severus returned with no information once more, perhaps then he would torture him.

Snape nodded brusquely and bowed. “As you wish, my Lord.”

Harry’s eyes snapped open. He was on the floor and Kreacher was staring at him disdainfully. Apparently he had passed out.

Bloody visions.

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Voldemort paced back and forth in his quarters. The flicker of the fireplace silhouetted him, separating his figure from the lush fabrics of his room and making him seem a ghost. Wrinkles in his forehead were deep and he furrowed his brows in thought and, though he would not consciously admit it, confusion and fear.

If even Severus, one of his most intelligent followers, could not find an explanation for the result of his touching Harry Potter, then this was truly a formidable magic. And, if Potter knew such magic, how much else did the boy know that he did not? This would not do. He could not let such a child overcome him. He could not allow him to have an advantage.

It simply would not do.

If Severus could not find answers, perhaps it was once again time for the Dark Lord to take matters into his own hands. It wouldn’t be difficult to find out where the young wizard was. Their mental connection had grown strong. It was pathetically simple for him to slip into Harry’s mind.

This time he would not have his Death Eaters accompany him. They did not even need to be informed. They’d just incessantly bother him anyway. It was as if they thought him to be a child, always needing protection. It would be easy enough to do it on his own, without the hassle of followers.

Polyjuice potion or even a strong glamour would do the trick. He could lure Harry away from his friends and torture him until the boy admitted to him what magic he had cast in the courtyard. Tom was sure it had been some sort of spell. As soon as he’d touched Potter’s throat he’d felt his skin shiver at the touch. It was a harsh tingling that was close to the sensation of being burned. The only explanation for that could be magic. A spell.

Maybe he would touch the boy again. The contact had been so sudden and quick before that he’d no had time to really study the occurrence.

It was possible, of course, that extended touch could result in some kind of injury; either to Potter or Voldemort himself. But he was not worried about that. He’d come back from death more than once. He would not be done in just by touching someone.

He ran spidery fingers over the smooth top of his head, taking a hissing breath through the slits on his face that acted as a nose. He wasn’t very sure if Potter ever parted with his friends, but it wouldn’t be that difficult to lure him away, if only for a moment. By the time he had his hands on the boy his friends would be unable to do anything.

He wondered why he didn’t just kill the boy then, fleetingly, but his thoughts came back to him soon after that contemplation. He had to sate his curiosity; and to kill Harry now, while both armies of the war were still being built, would be anti-climactic. It would make an impact, but not as great a one as if he killed him right at the brink of battle.

No, he had other plans than immediate destruction. He wanted to go slowly. The more time he took, the more his enemies suffered. It was simple enough logic.

He pinched the corners of his eyes and pictured the incident of the courtyard once more before he relinquished his ponderings and set off towards his study, focusing on seeing where Harry Potter was going next.

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Harry yawned lethargically, waking up for the second time that day in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. He lifted his head and felt something tug at it. His cheek was stuck to the page of a book. Peeling the paper away from his skin, he rubbed his eyes and looked around. Ron was already at the table, shoveling eggs into his endless pit of a stomach. He glanced up at hearing the crackle of paper and smiled with his eyes, considering his mouth was a bit full.

“I figuwed you nedded da sweep,” Ron said through his mouthful of eggs. “So I dinnint wake you.”

“I did need the sleep,” Harry agreed, stretching his back. It had gotten cramped form the odd sleeping position. “I’ve been having a terrible time getting to bed.”

“So you came down to the kitchen?”

Harry turned at the voice. Hermione was standing in the kitchen’s doorway. She was dressed in her good robes. Seeing Harry’s bemused look, Hermione smiled. “We’re going out,” she said, looking positively thrilled.

Harry looked at her dumbly. Was now really ton time to waltz about town and go shopping?

“Oh it’s not as if it’s not for a reason.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “We’re going to Diagon Alley. We’ve got to get some things from the Apothecary, among other places.”

“Why’re you looking so thrilled to go to the Apothecary?” Harry inquired. “I didn’t know you liked potions that much.”

Hermione crossed her arms in mock impatience, but Ron beat her to speaking.

“I think she’s just happy to get out of this place, mate,” he said, prodding his toast with a fork. “I’m with her on that one.”

Ron had taken a bit more to speaking after their visit to Hogwarts. It seemed that all he needed was to see the old school one last time so that he could get over it. Harry and Hermione were grateful for the change. It was awfully disturbing to live with such a quiet Weasley.

Harry nodded. It would be nice to get out of Grimmauld Place. He hadn’t been to Diagon Alley in quite a while. It’d be nice to have one fairly normal day. “When do we leave?” he asked.

“As soon as you’ve eaten breakfast,” Hermione answered, walking across the kitchen and smiling at Kreacher, who promptly turned his expression into an even deeper scowl and scurried away quickly as if he feared attack.

Hermione looked crestfallen.

“I don’t see why you expect anything else out of him, ‘Mione,” Ron said shrugging.

“I feel so sorry for him!” she cried out, making both Ron and Harry shake their heads in amused disbelief.

“No need to feel sorry for him,” Harry stated, glancing at the door from which Kreacher had taken his leave. “He’s bloody crazy, that one.”

Ron snorted in agreement.

Hermione frowned and looked affronted, stalking out of the room pointedly and sticking her nose up into the air.

Ron stared after her. “She’s about as crazy as that little monster! Pitying him! She’s mental.”

Harry grinned and nodded, grabbing a plate of food and digging in.

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Lalalalalala…….. nothing much happened here, but it’s setting stuff up, so I suppose it was a necessary chapter.

Toodleoo for now!

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