FIC: Broken -- Chapter Two -- LVHP -- PG-13

[batsutousai]

Title: Broken
Author: batsutousai
Beta: tsuki_no_suzu
Rating: T
Pairings: HPLV, others
Warnings: Dumbledore bashing
Summary: Dumbledore knew before Harry Potter came to Hogwarts what he needed the boy to do, and he knew exactly how to make him do it. A twist on the normal manipulative!Dumbledore story.

Disclaim Her: Posted now because, as far as my computer's concerned, it's tomorrow. For those of you west of me, you get this chapter yesterday. XD


-~/\~-
Chapter Two - A New Term
-~\/~-

Between the Dursleys and Voldemort, Harry had enough memories of physical pain to fill three and a half shelves. Another four had emotional pain. Memories of happier times with his friends and Sirius filled the eight shelves after those. The last half-shelf contained the memories of his parents: Lily's smile, a snippet of a lullaby, James suggesting getting a broom for Harry's fifth birthday, Sirius looking young and happy next to Remus, and a brief shot of a family picture.

Harry wished he could turn memories into photographs.

After all the standing, Harry decided he wanted a safe place where he could sit and not think. So he made a door in the wall behind the shelves and created a cosy little room with a fireplace and two red chairs, which looked very much like Gryffindor common room. He moved Voldemort's link into the room and, feeling gloomy, added a couple of dementors to the room with the shelves.

Then he slammed the door shut and settled into his chair with a sigh. He mentally called up a pillow to rest his head against and a bottle of warm butterbeer, then lost himself in the flames.

-0-0-0-

Voldemort came for another visit two days later and seemed rather surprised to see the new room. "Where did this come from?" he asked Harry, who was, once again, enjoying the fire with a bottle of butterbeer.

"I got tired of looking at the spheres," Harry commented quietly, then nodded to the door next to the fireplace. "They're in there. I added some dementors, too, just for kicks."

Voldemort chuckled and changed the empty chair green before sitting in it. "You finished sorting, then?"

"Yeah." Harry glanced over at the dark lord. "What did you think about to get over here?"

"Crucioing Bella."

Harry smiled grimly and glanced at the fire again. "That would work."

"I considered imagining killing your relatives, since that worked for you, but I don't know what they look like."

"Well, Bella seemed to work, so it doesn't matter, I suppose," Harry agreed.

Voldemort nodded and glanced around the room. "This place is rather barren. Just the fireplace."

Harry shrugged. "Couldn't think of anything to decorate it with. I really just wanted a place where I could sit and not think. Seemed proper, somehow, with all my memories on the other side of that door."

Voldemort nodded. "What might you decorate it with, though, if you ever did?"

Harry glance over at the other wizard curiously. "Pictures. I always enjoyed Aunt Petunia's photograph collection, even if I didn't care for the pictures themselves. I'm just not sure how to make it work."

"Potter, this is your mindscape. Whatever you want to exist, will."

Harry blinked a couple of times, then smiled sheepishly. "Oh. Yeah."

Voldemort sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

Harry glanced around the room and imagined photos lining the fireplace in gold and silver frames. In each frame he put memories of him and his friends as they'd grown. He made pictures with Sirius in them, and pictures of his parents, as he'd seen them in his memories. Near the centre was a picture of the whole Weasley family, smiling and waving.

And, in the very centre, Harry placed that memory of the photo being taken when he was a baby, with James and Lily and Sirius and Remus and the Longbottoms. He'd mentally removed Dumbledore and Peter from the picture because he didn't want them.

Voldemort nodded at the line-up appreciatively. "Much better. Are you going to decorate anything else?"

Harry glanced around at the emptiness behind them and shook his head. "No, I like it."

"Then I believe our time together is done."

Harry blinked at the dark lord. "Okay. Do you want that book back?"

Voldemort shook his head and stood. "Keep it. Give it to your muggleborn friend for her collection or something, if you don't want it."

Harry bit his lower lip, then, just before Voldemort left, he blurted out, "Are you leaving for good, then?"

Voldemort smiled strangely. "Harry," he said, waving at the pennant, "I will never be gone for good, so long as we both live."

Harry nodded and turned back to the fireplace. He spent the rest of the night debating whether or not to add a picture of Voldemort to his mantle.

-0-0-0-

Not long after Harry learned to guard his mind, Dumbledore finally collected him and took him to the Weasleys' to stay. Harry decided to keep his book from Voldemort and didn't tell his friends about his newly-learned Occlumency skills, though he did tell them the entire prophecy. Hermione spent a lot of time trying to figure it out, while Harry and Ron spent as much time as they could on the Weasleys' quidditch pitch with Ron's brothers and Ginny.

A trip to Diagon Alley for their books – and a trip to Fred and George's shop – found the three best friends following a suspicious Malfoy into Knockturn Alley, where they heard some suspicious talk.

That night, when they all went to bed, Harry imagined killing his relatives and found himself in Voldemort's mindscape, where the man in question was sitting behind his desk, looking over papers. "Voldemort?" Harry asked.

The Voldemort behind the desk pointed to a sign on the front of the desk which said, 'Don't touch anything, just sit. I'll be here shortly.'

Harry chuckled to himself and took one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, which he cheerfully turned red. He was just debating getting up and looking at one of the books on the walls when the Voldemort behind the desk disappeared and the real Voldemort appeared in the other chair.

"To what do I owe this visit?" Voldemort inquired, sitting back in his chair calmly.

Harry cocked his head to the side and considered how to phrase his question. "You wouldn't have, ah, a certain.... no, uhm..."

"Potter," Voldemort said with no small humour in his voice, "just ask it."

"Draco Malfoy," Harry settled on.

Voldemort sighed and shook his head. "I take it you saw him acting oddly, and decided to be a Gryffindor and simply ask me."

"Well, yeah. Uhm, is he? Working for you?"

Voldemort simply looked at Harry for a long moment, then said, "Unfortunately, Lucius is in Azkaban with a number of my other best Death Eaters. I've found myself looking to the younger generation for assistance."

"You Marked him," Harry deciphered.

"And if I did?" Voldemort challenged.

Harry felt something lock into place and realized he couldn't feel his own body anymore. He took a deep breath and met the glowing ruby eyes. "What do you have him doing?" He figured, if he was going to die trapped with Voldemort, he might as well do it knowing what the man was plotting.

Voldemort smiled a horrible smile. "I don't think I'll tell you."

Harry sighed and turned back to the fire. "Fine. Are you going to keep me here, then? Keep me from telling anyone else that I know that Draco Malfoy is Marked and is plotting something for you?"

"That's the plan," Voldemort said, sounding very satisfied.

"I suppose it's a more peaceful way to die than what else you might have had planned for me," Harry decided.

Voldemort didn't say anything for a long time, then, "You're truly not afraid, are you?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Should I be?" He cocked his head curiously at Voldemort.

Voldemort rubbed at his eyes and Harry could feel his body again. "No one would believe you, anyway. And you can't prove it."

"No, I don't suppose I can," Harry agreed, standing. "You won't tell me what you've got him doing?"

Voldemort smiled humourlessly. "He'll fail anyway."

Harry shrugged. "Perhaps." Then he returned to his own mindscape and let himself sleep.

-0-0-0-

Harry decided he didn't care what Malfoy was up to. Voldemort clearly thought the other boy would fail, which meant he had a back-up in place, which meant that, even if Harry knew what was going on, he wouldn't be able to stop it. So he decided not to worry about it. Hermione would have been proud.

When term finally started, Harry and Ron were surprised to learn that they were to continue Potions under the slimy Slughorn, who was, admittedly, a better teacher than Snape would ever be. Harry's borrowed book was an impressive collection of Potions knowledge and spells.

When Hermione's first search of the library turned up nothing, Harry went to his own source.

"Good evening, Harry. Here to ask about Draco again?"

Harry shook his head. "Knowing you, you've got a back-up plan waiting to go when Malfoy fails, and I wouldn't even know where to look for it. No, I was wondering if you know who the Half-Blood Prince is?"

Voldemort looked surprised. "The Half-Blood Prince? Severus."

"Snape?"

"The same."

Harry was silent for a long moment before starting to snicker. At Voldemort's curious look, he said, "Hermione said he's got handwriting like a girl."

Voldemort chuckled evilly at that. "Where ever did you find that name?"

"Uhm, well, I didn't think I'd be taking NEWTs Potions, but I am, so I had to borrow a book, and the book I borrowed was Snape's. Hermione couldn't find anything, so I figured I could try you." Harry scratched his head.

"Severus' old school book." Voldemort tapped his chin with one long finger. "When you get a new copy – I assume you ordered one?" Harry nodded. "Good. When you get it, give that book back to Severus. I doubt he wants it in student's hands."

"Am I currying favour with him, now?" Harry asked with a touch of irony.

Voldemort smiled. "No, you're giving the book back to its rightful owner. And teaching him that he shouldn't leave things where they might be used by students who could trace them back to him."

Harry sighed. "If he gives me detention, I'm blaming you."

"And I'm sure you'll spend the entire detention cursing my name. Go back to bed, Harry."

"Okay. 'Night, Voldemort."

"Good night."

-0-0-0-

Harry didn't bother telling Hermione who the book belonged to, more amused by her trying to figure it out on her own – and not having a good reason how he figured it out himself. When he got his replacement, he stayed after in Defence Against the Dark Arts and, when Snape glared at him, walked up to the man's desk and placed the book on it.

"What is this, Potter?" Snape spat, not even looking at the book.

"It's your Potions book, sir," Harry said softly. "I thought I should return it to you, now that I've got my new one. Good day." Then he turned around and walked out of the room, smiling at the horrified expression that had graced Snape's face when he announced what the book was. He might have to make a photo of that for his mantle.

-0-0-0-

The one thing Harry didn't dare bring up with Voldemort was the rather useless help the Headmaster was giving him. While he hadn't really been afraid when Voldemort had locked him in his mind the last time, the idea of the dark lord doing it again was terrifying, and Harry didn't really want to face dying because he'd mentioned Voldemort's past.

Not that he was given much choice. After Harry's second meeting with Dumbledore, he went to bed to find Voldemort sitting in the green chair in front of the fire.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, taking his seat.

"You're thinking about me and it's irritating," Voldemort said rather bluntly, then looked at Harry. "The old man has you looking at my childhood?"

Harry sighed and rubbed at his face, careful of his glasses. "You went looking through my memories," he said. It wasn't a question.

"Why does he have you looking at my past?" Voldemort replied suspiciously, neither confirming or denying his transgression.

Harry considered that he needed some way to keep Voldemort in the room with the fire, so he didn't pry. Perhaps a door that only Harry could go through?

"Potter."

"I don't know, okay? Something to do with defeating you. And how did you get to the spheres, anyway? They're supposed to be keyed to me."

Voldemort smiled. "We share a very special connection, Harry..."

Harry scowled and folded his arms over his chest. Perhaps a door that was specifically meant to keep Voldemort from using it? Or have it disappear when Harry wasn't in his mindscape, and unable to reappear until he was? That could work.

"And what have you learned from these lessons?"

"Absolutely nothing, okay? Will you go away?"

And, before Voldemort could say anything else, he was gone.

Harry blinked at the empty chair, then at the pennant on the wall, which twitched faintly, then hung still.

Satisfied that Voldemort was gone, at least for the moment, Harry fixed his door, then went to sleep, thinking about the young Tom Riddle, but taking every care to not get pulled into Voldemort's mind.

-0-0-0-

Somehow, Harry managed to keep Voldemort out of his mind well enough that the man finally sent Harry a letter with a sharp-eyed owl, which had Snape spilling juice on himself.

After Snape's reaction, Harry could guess who the owl came from and told it, "Go away. Take it back and tell him to piss off."

"Fighting with someone?" Hermione asked.

Snape stalked over to them before Harry could answer and said, "Potter, don't touch that letter."

Harry rolled his eyes. "With all due respect, sir, I don't want to." He stared at the owl again. "Take it back. I don't want it."

The owl screeched angrily. When Snape reached for it, the owl threatened to bite the man, so he drew away, glaring.

Harry huffed. "Drop it in the lake, if you must get rid of it. I don't want it. And I'm not taking it."

"Harry," Hermione tried.

Harry stood. "I forgot my books upstairs, excuse me," he said to his audience, then stalked from the hall, where about half the population was staring at him. When the owl started to follow him, he told it, "I'll hex you if you don't leave me alone."

The owl was not perturbed and merely clicked its beak at Harry's nose.

Harry sighed and started up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower. "Is it a portkey? And are you trained to lie?"

The owl screeched at him angrily.

"Fine. If I take the bloody thing from you, will you go away?"

The owl shook its head, which threw it off course a bit.

Harry stopped on the landing and leaned against the railing, staring at the bird. "He wants a response, of course."

The bird landed calmly on the railing next to Harry and started to preen its wings.

Harry sighed and untied the letter from the bird's leg. As he was opening the scroll, he heard footsteps on the stairs and glanced up to find Snape, with Hermione not far behind.

"Potter," Snape warned.

Harry decided to ignore him and glanced back at the letter.

'You WILL speak to me, boy. I WILL NOT be ignored. NOW.'

Harry rolled the scroll back up and turned to the owl. "Tell him I read it and I don't care."

The owl glared at him and snapped its beak warningly.

"What does He want?" Snape demanded.

"And what is going on?" Hermione asked, glaring at Harry from around Snape.

"Granger, this is none of your concern," Snape informed Hermione.

"Actually," Harry cut in, "it's neither of your concerns. It's not even his concern," he added, waving the scroll about.

Harry wasn't quick enough and Snape grabbed the scroll from his hand. Harry was about to yell when he saw the completely baffled look on Snape face and figured that the letter must have a spell on it to allow only Harry himself to read it.

Hermione managed to get a look at the parchment and said, "Harry, you have a piece of parchment with squiggles on it."

"Squiggles?" Harry parroted, feeling stupid.

"Parselwriting," Snape said, thrusting the letter back at Harry. Next to him, understanding dawned on Hermione's face. "What does it say, Potter?"

"And why are you writing to Voldemort?" Hermione squeaked.

Harry took his letter back from Snape and glared at both of them. "I'm not writing to him, he's writing to me, thanks. Now, if you'll both excuse me–"

"Thirty points from Gryffindor!" Snape snapped.

"You can't do that!"

"Forty!"

"It's my letter and my business!"

"Fifty!"

"May I ask what's going on here?" Dumbledore asked serenely as he climbed the last few stairs to the landing they were all crowded on.

"Potter," Snape spat, "has a letter from the Dark Lord, and won't say what it says."

Dumbledore glanced at Harry from behind his half-moon spectacles. "Harry?"

Harry scowled at all of them. "I don't see why it matters. I don't want anything to do with him. And I'd appreciate it if everyone would bloody-well leave me alone."

"Potter–"

"Severus, please. Harry, we're simply concerned about you."

"Be concerned about someone else, then," Harry snapped, then glared at the bird. "And you. Go home. Tell him to piss off. I don't care!" Then he turned and stomped up the stairs again, intent on locking himself in his room and staring at the fire.

When no one followed Harry up, he climbed into his bed and did just that, ignoring the owl who sat itself on his canopy.

-0-0-0-0-0-

A/N: This chapter got completely out of hand, especially near the end. Next chapter, Harry and Voldie have their confrontation. Uh-oh. XD

~Bats

Chapters:
Pro - The Real Prophecy / 1 - The Summer of Change
2 - A New Term ||| 3 - Confrontation ||| 4 - Betrayal
5 - The Wedding ||| 6 - The Light ||| 7 - The Dark
8 - Magic's Story ||| 9 - Ghosts ||| 10 - A Lifetime Mended

.

Comments

[animaginarymind.livejournal.com]

Fantastic! I cracked up with the letter :D So so so so good :D

Can't wait for the next part :)

[mizstorge.livejournal.com]

Voldemort is being so much more helpful to Harry than Harry is being to him. His relationship with Serverus must be amusing. And Harry's denseness (is that a word?) is endearing.

[payne-writes.livejournal.com]

I love! I love :) are you doing NaNoWriMo by the way?

[batsutousai]

XD
I intend to, yeah. And I've kinda got an original idea for it, too. Just have to write it. (And juggle a couple final papers... ^.^")

[jamafanta.livejournal.com]

This is so much fun! Voldemort is far too 2-dimensional in canon, I love how you flesh him out. Looking forward to the next part!