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Nothing could compare Harry's horror at finding himself waking up with iron taste in his mouth, saliva accumulating inside it, making him feel sick to his stomach.
Ignoring how his actions could wake up his classmates, the teenager left the bed and run to the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a thunderous blow. There he stayed, retching until nothing was left to give. Shivers run down his feverish body, unseeing eyes half hidden behind his heavy eyelids. He was exhausted, mortified, exhilarated by what he just dreamed about. I shouldn't feel like this, he thought in horror. This is wrong. Yet, his body rejected the notion, warmth spreading from the tip of his fingers to the rest of his body. His face felt like fire. He shivered again.
"What was that...?" He wondered outloud after some minutes of silence, standing up with shaking legs. Ignoring Ron's worried expression when he opened the door, Harry walked out of the bathroom and went straight to the bed, uncaring of how dishevelled he looked to the others.
"Harry?" he heard, his best friend's voice granting his head. There's no response. With a sigh, the redhead took the hint and left him alone, a bit annoyed at his friend's behaviour lately. What's his problem, anyway?
An hour later, when he was sure there was no one else left, the raven half leaned against the pillows. With his face hidden behind his hands, images of his dream kept repeating inside his mind. He couldn't face anyone today after what he'd done. After what He did to him. He swallowed, remembering the taste of blood. Why did Voldemort do that? Was it just a dream or... Should I tell someone? What should I do? Groaning, the boy took his glasses from his night table putting them on on a hurry, and left the room using his invisibility cloak to find a place where he could calm down and have more privacy. He didn't feel safe here.
Near the woods, hidden by some of the trees, Harry realised something. This dream had been different, his scar didn't hurt at all though the presence of the Dark Lord was stronger than ever.
He rememberes vaguely only him and an odd looking Voldemort, - he knows it's him like he knows himself - and white. So much white. No, there's something else. Something he couldn't see but he knows it was there. Something from the corner of his eyes. He looked to the side, his heart beating faster, expecting to see red eyes. There was nothing. Stop being so paranoid. Letting out a shaky breath, the raven turned to look at the ground below him deeply lost in thoughts. This is real, not a dream. What was I expecting to see? But did it really happen? Did He... Did Voldemort really kiss me? It was an absurd idea. An idea that happened just mere hours ago. Why?
I need to know. This connection they have, he knows he can use it to sent him a message. If the Dark Lord can show him any images he wants, surely, Harry can too. The young wizard put the invisibility cloak on again, his mind made out. Harry walked into the Forbidden Forest, sending the image to Voldemort with as much force as he could. This was the only place he knows they won't be interrupted. And to be honest, he thought to himself, it's time I do something on my own.
While Harry Potter was heading to the depths of the Forbidden Forest, Ron Weasley was waiting outside of the Headmaster's office. Something's wrong with his best friend and he wasn't just going to wait and see what happens. For all he knows, Harry could be in trouble. He had to tell someone what had just happened in their room, someone who can do something about it even if that means choosing Albus Dumbledore despite how the Headmaster had been acting around Harry.
"Come in, Mr Weasley," he heard from the inside, the door opening on its own. Bravely, he took a step inside, determination shining in his eyes. "Ah, I see young Harry is in trouble."
Ron stopped, surprised at Dumbledore's correct guess.
"Y-yes, sir." He confirmed, his gaze directed to the floor. The boy couldn't help but be a bit intimidated in the Headmaster's presence. How did Harry do it?
Albus peered over the top of his half-moon shaped glasses at the boy, understanding that if he's here, then Harry Potter was most probably in danger. What type of danger, though, it is unclear. Unfortunately, his plan still needs some working.
"Is there something else you want to tell me, my boy?" Ron looked up, his eyes showing the worry that was eating him. He bit his lower lip and nodded.
"I think Harry had a nightmare. About him," he quickly added the last part, both knowing who was he talking about. "He woke up so suddenly that he didn't even noticed I was also awake, then he closed himself for hours in the bathroom. I could hear him throwing up." The ginger made a face, wrinkling his nose.
"Did he say something?" asked the Headmaster, uneasiness growing. If Harry had been having nightmares, and he's sure this wasn't the first time, then Tom must have a plan in order for him to take action. It's way too soon.
"He did, sir. When he was sleeping only, though. At first he was just murmuring nonsense. But just before waking up he said 'Hush, hush. It's okay, I'm here. Don't cry anymore'. As if he was talking to a baby, or a kid."
"That's definitely troubling." Silence stretched out, the gravity of the situation weighing on them. "Inform your classmates that classes are cancelled, Mr Weasley." He dismissed. Ron didn't move from his spot just yet. He still needs to know for sure.
"Sir?" he tried. The Headmaster seemed to be absent, lost in his thoughts, and so, disappointed, the young wizard took his leave, uncertainty growing inside him. I'll talk to Hermione, maybe she'll have a better idea of what we should do.
Not even five minutes had passed when Harry came face to face with the monster from his nightmares. Literally.
"Ah, Harry." the Dark Lord drew out his name as if it were a delicacy he rarely got to enjoy. "What brought you here, I wonder? What made you call for Lord Voldemort?" Voldemort slid very slowly over the ground, his eyes fixed on the boy's green ones. The young man swallowed, reluctantly taking his invisibility cloak off.
"I..." he hesitated. Where's his bravery now? "I," he tried again, liking his upper lip in preparation, red eyes following the movement of the pink tongue "I wanted to ask you something."
"Oh?" The older man took several steps closer to Harry, amused at the boy's reaction when he noticed him watching intently. "And what makes you think you have any right to asssk anything from the Dark Lord?" He turned in his step, circling around the raven again.
Harry swallowed. Hard.
"We have something connecting us. You know it's true, Tom." Either he was really stupid or very brave. Neither would surprise him. "And I know you suspect what it is. No. You must know, surely." You could hear a desperate plea in his voice.
After long seconds, Voldemort stopped in his pacing and hummed. Harry waited for him to talk, irritated at being ignored. Again. I should be glad he isn't paying any attention to me, he grumbled to himself. With a groan, the boy impulsively approached the Dark Lord.
"You're just like Dumbledore! Just tell me already what it is!" He was fuming, so annoyed at all the things everyone has been hiding from him, all the secrets and information. He deserves to know them even more so that everyone else.
"You dare to demand anssswersss from me?" Voldemort turned so quickly right in front of the boy, it's a surprise they hadn't collided, his red eyes firmly glued to his green ones. Harry took a step back bumping into a rough surface.
"I just... No one ever tells me anything." He tried to explain, his hands in front of him forming a shield, both fear and excitement coursing through him.
"Maybe you should have tried harder to find the answers you seek." The older man hissed in a bored tone, all his ire gone. Harry saw red.
"For you it's so easy." The raven sneered, shoving him "You always had been a genius, right, Tom? No need to make any effort for anything. You always had it easy, handed to you." His index finger poking the older wizard's chest in every accusation he spat out, eyes aflamed. Voldemort just stared at him blankly "But I'm not as lucky. I've had people hiding everything from me since the moment I was born, lied to, trying to survive every single day of my life. You're not the only one who has tried to kill me, Tom. So, sue me!" Breathing hard, Harry turned his gaze to the side, tears of frustration welling up. His hands returned to his side in a fist.
Voldemort, who was frozen in place, remained silent for so long that the young man turned to look at him, concerned. Had he taken it too far?
"Voldemort?" he called tentatively. Just then the Dark Lord straightened, his muscles tense, and enveloped the boy in his arms. The shock of the embrace and warmth spreading in him didn't last long as he heard a familiar voice calling. Ron. Struggling in his enemy's hold, all Harry could do was to hope his friend doesn't find them. What a weird situation this would be, being hugged by the same person who has been trying to kill him. And how embarrassing.
"Hush. Stop moving." Voldemort's breath tickled the back of his neck, sending pleasant tingles down his spine. Harry took hold of his dark clothes to hide his burning face in the folds.
Mere seconds when he heard approaching footsteps. Two different pair of footsteps. Ron talked to Hermione. He knew it was be a possibility but he didn't expect them to search for him now. Excelling timing, as always. He groaned internally. However, soon their footsteps and calls disappeared, sounding farther and farther away.
"You can let go of me now." The boy murmured against Voldemort's chest. Voldemort hummed, not acknowledging him. Instead, his hold got tighter. Safe. Why did it feel so safe?
"You're my soul." At first Harry didn't understand what he meant, the meaning of those words lost in the buzzing in his mind. When it finally clicked, the boy blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.
"So we're soul mates?"
A low chuckle vibrated through the boy's hands, the Dark Lord's chest moving with the action. "Oh, only you, dear. Only you."
Dear. That word did strange things to Harry, his cheeks flushed red, his heart racing, and his mind numb.
Dear.
Dear.
"You could say that, yesss." He vaguely heard. "It's actually called a Horcrux."
"Oh." The raven sucked in a breath.
"Is that enough of an answer? Or do you need something else from Lord Voldemort?"
"I.. I think this is enough." A pause. "Thank you."
They both let go at once, rising off the ground in one swift motion.
"Then I recommend you go back to Hogwarts, right now."
"Why?" Harry frowned.
"Dumbledore knows I'm here. This forest isn't as safe from the old man's watchful eyes as you think it is."
"Oh." Seeing how Voldemort started to leave, the boy couldn't help but stop him, managing to grab his sleeve. "And if I want to go with you?" His voice sounded weak to his ears, more like a whisper.
Harry had no idea what made him say that, he just wanted it so badly he didn't even care if it meant leaving Hogwarts. At least then he wouldn't have to go back to the Dursleys. It would also mean leaving his friends behind. However, his entire being screamed at him to stay with Voldemort. He longed to be wrapped in his arms again... Is it really so bad to be selfish for once in his life? Doesn't he deserve to be happy too? Just this once.
"You don't mean that." The Dark Lord replied.
"I do."
"How stubborn." The older wizard turned around, and with no hesitation grabbed the boy in his arms, uncaring of what it meant and who would see it. If his own soul wants to stay with him, who is he to deny him? "Understand that this means that you will not fight me, nor will you protect anyone you care about. You will stay by my side at all times."
"I don't care." Came his Horcrux's mumbled reply. "I've never felt so at home before."
With a smirk spreading across his pale face, the older man lifted the boy into his arms and apparated inside the castle, right in the Great Hall, floating above them. Many of the students and teachers were still eating when the first cry was heard. Horrified screams and frightened faces greeted them, many of the younger ones running to hide behind the older students, while the teachers closed in on their unwelcomed guest. Dumbledore, with a dark gaze hiding his shock, rose from his throne and raised his arm, gripping his wand tightly.
"What are you doing here, Tom?" The Dark Lord smiled mischievously, not caring that the headmaster was using his real name in front of so many people.
"I have simply come to announce my victory."
This time Albus couldn't hide his shock, as well as the other spectators. Victory? What was he talking about? It was then that everyone noticed a figure with dark hair in the dark wizard's arms. The figure showed his face, lazily blinking back at some of his friends and his teachers, ignoring the gasps and the cries, completely uncaring on what was happening in front of him. He was warm and safe, what else could he want? Nothing, nothing but his soul. The boy snuggled closer to Voldemort.
"What have you done?" Albus harshly whispered, the silence letting him be heard easily. "What have you done to Harry Potter!?"
"Me?" His cruel laughter echoed around them, sending shivers down their spines. "I haven't done anything, my old friend. Harry here chose to be my side after I told him the truth about our connection. But you already knew about that, didn't you, Headmaster?"
"He knew?" Voldemort looked down at his soul, adoration shining through his red eyes, only for Harry to see.
"He does. It was his idea to eventually let you come to me to be killed in order for me to die. Both dying at our hands. Kind of poetic, don't you think, Soulmate?"
Those were news for Harry, however, and so he searched with his vivid emerald eyes the Headmaster, the same man who he trusted and believed, whose lies poisoned his mind to the point of fighting against his soul. How could he? Did anyone else lied to him? Were his friends his friends at all?
Dumbledore, as always, avoided his gaze, fury ignited in Harry's chest. Liar. Liar. Liar. They are all liars. They never cared about him.
"Do what you want with them." The boy announced, hiding his face in the crook of the older man's neck.
"Your wish is my command, my soul." His white wand appeared in his hand so quickly that no one had time to react to the spells he began to cast. The vast majority of the students ended up on the floor, unconscious and tied up, while the teachers took cover under their shields. It didn't take long for Albus to cast his own spells, various colors crashing into an invisible barrier surrounding Voldemort and Harry. "Did you think I wouldn't come prepared?" He hissed, throwing the killing curse at the old man who dodged to the side to avoid it. Snape appeared at his side, taking his arm and creating a barrier around them. "Ah, Severus. So you're a traitor, as I suspected." His cold voice freeze the youngest professor in his spot. He suspected it? For how long? If so, why is he still alive? "If you're wondering why I haven't killed you yet, I'll let you know that I still have use of your potions skills."
"Potter..." The black haired man started to speak, uncertainty dancing in his dark eyes.
"Harry will be fine," the urge to roll his eyes was too strong but he managed "he'll live as long as I live. And I'll live as long as he lives." Voldemort paused, going through all the options. "You should be more worried about yourself. Unless you don't really care about Lily's son."
Sweat trickled down the pale man's forehead, feeling sick, his face hidden behind his hair. If what he said is true, that means... But he killed Lily, how can he follow Voldemort after ignoring his request? And yet, Lily died saving her son. The last thing that remains of her. He couldn't leave him alone with a monster like the Dark Lord. And Dumbledore... The headmaster never intended to tell him about his plan to kill Potter, did he? If his decision depended on Potter living, it was clear who he had to choose. "I'm with you, my Lord."
Quick as lightning Severus struck Albus Dumbledore with his wand digging into the old wizard's throat, two words leaving his lips, "Avada Kedavra."
Everything seemed to stop at that moment, everyone watching how the body of their beloved Headmaster was falling to the ground, hitting it with a dull thud. It was then when the chaos erupted, when the few people who were still conscious tried to run or hide, when the teachers looked at each other in horror at what they had just witnessed, one of their own committing murder with no hesitation, when it dawned on them. They were not going to get out of the castle alive. And as more bodies were falling to the ground, the more silence began to reign, leaving more students unconscious and tied up, and only two teachers alive, not counting Severus Snape, while the others were lying either on the ground or in the tables.
It was a slaughter, some would say, a cleansing others would whisper, or a gift, some would think in the darkest corners of their minds.
But one thing became clear to everyone, and that was that everything changed in that moment when a single boy named Harry Potter, the boy who lived, joined Lord Voldemort, and together they danced around the bodies of those whose lives they took from for days, before announcing their victory to the whole world.