Chapter Text
“Dismissed.” Snape’s voice is as cold as ever. Harry, dizzy and shaking, takes the spiral stairs up from his office two at a time, remembering to grab his wand from the floor. He’s spooked. His mind feels unmoored, unfocused, and there’s a sharp pounding behind his temples that seems to be pulsing at the edges of his vision in red, red red.
Running through the dungeons, he takes the corners from memory until he hits a staircase that he climbs. He’s not thinking about where he’s going, just how far he can get away .
He crashes headfirst into professor Sprout, who catches him by the shoulders before he falls. “Mr Potter!” She exclaims, and he flinches instinctively. There’s blood on his lips- his nose is bleeding.
She is lighting his face with her wand, concern written on her own. “What happened, Potter?” She asks, much quieter and gentler, turning to start guiding him along with her, an arm around his shoulders.
Harry is shivering, sweaty and scared. He barely registers the question. “Potter?”
He looks at her blankly, unable to pull words together, and she frowns. “Come with me.” They’re still moving together, but Sprout increases the pace. It’s not long before she’s making him sit on a bed in the Hospital Wing. “Wait here for me, Potter.” She puts a hand on his shoulder again, pressing for a moment, and Harry manages a single nod.
He’s so tired.
Occlumency normally does this, right? He doesn’t know. His first lesson is just a bit of a shock, right?
He’s probably fine.
“He’s in shock,” Pomfrey tells Sprout as she helps him into pyjamas. Sprout is outside the cordoned area, waiting to hear if Harry is alright. “I’m hesitant to push him, but he isn’t physically injured except for the nosebleed. Shock normally occurs after a serious injury or traumatic event. Whether he saw something, was attacked… I don’t know. I’m keeping him in here overnight and all day tomorrow. If he doesn’t improve by breakfast I’ll bring in a specialist. Could you inform Minerva?”
Harry is very tired. He also feels ill. Like something very wrong has happened and his body is rejecting it.
But, all that happened was-.
Snape’s not traumatised him, that’s stupid-.
Harry lets her take his glasses and wand and even tuck him in, casting a monitoring charm over the bed and the Hospital Wing door. “If you need the bathroom there are pans in the sideroom, you’ve been here often enough.” Pomfrey says briskly. She… pauses and conjures a small cloth, and leans in to wipe the space between his nose and mouth, cleaning the blood away. Harry merely watches her. “If you need me, just call out or reach your arm beyond the bed. Sleep well, Potter.”
She’s being kinder than usual too. He must be a mess.
Harry stares at the ceiling and fancies he can see the shattered sections of his mind pulsing along to his heartbeat. He feels like he’s drifting out of his body. He wonders if this is healthy.
(He knows it is not.)
There is a voice in the back of his mind, familiar and unwanted.
Kill the spare.
He isn’t going to sleep tonight.
There’s a second voice, that might be his imagination. It’s angry, and he can’t make out any words but it sounds protective. It threatens, but it means Harry no harm. He’d like it if that voice was real.
He wonders if minds can get infected.
The second voice grows more insistent to the point where it startles him slightly. He can hear it now.
...MINE. And I will not let you die like this. Where are you?
What a silly question for a voice in his head to ask. He’s in Hogwarts of course.
Of course.
Harry’s starting to wonder if the voice in his head is another person.
...no. We are two parts of a whole. You are mine.
And there it goes with the nonsensical explanations. He closes his eyes. It doesn’t help with the dizziness and drifting feeling.
That does not matter. What DOES matter is that you have been attacked by a legilimens and your mind is hemorrhaging. You will die if you do not seek treatment in the next few days, and be permanently damaged within hours.
‘You idiot’ is strongly implied.
But what treatment can he seek? He’s stuck in school, with Umbridge and the inquisitorial squad and teachers who don’t listen. Dying wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he’d finally get a rest from people trying to kill him.
Rage and confusion that aren't his own flood his body.
His scar prickles in-time with the words. Nobody touches what’s MINE.
Harry’s eyes widen ever-so-slightly as he realises who, exactly, the voice belongs to.
Voldemort. In his head.
That… is weird. Very weird.
A lot weirder than the dreams. He’s never been aware of Harry’s presence before, and certainly not like THIS.
...Harry… Potter…?
Oh no.
He rolls over, pressing his face into the pillow and squeezing his eyes shut. “No,” he breathes in fear, heart rate accelerating.
He has a direct line into Harry’s head-
Yes. Oh, Harry. This makes so much sense. How could you hide this from me? You are mine.
Harry shakes his head slightly, tears pricking at his eyes. He can’t do this. Not after today. Not after… whatever Snape had done to him. He just can’t. He doesn’t know what to do.
Harry, if you come to me you can rest as long as you wish. Nobody will touch you. Not even me. I will cherish you. I protect what is mine.
He can sense the sincerity. Voldemort has truly gone from murderous to protective in a minute flat.
Harry is so tired .
I can’t protect you in Hogwarts, Harry. But if you come to me, I can let you rest. Aren’t you tired, Harry?
He is. Merlin, he is.
I need you to come to me. I can’t force you in this state, it would break you. But I can come and get you myself. You do not have to walk far. Just to the treeline.
Harry’s not sure he can walk at all. His limbs feel like lead.
Volemort’s emotions are odd. Sadness?
I’ll send Lucius, then. He is on the board of governors, he has access to the school.
He’s floating. Everything is blurry.
Sleep, Harry. I’ll protect you.
He sleeps.
-
“You can’t be in h-”
“Stupefy.”
--
Harry Potter’s hospital bed is left remade perfectly, not a wrinkle in sight. A folded note sits on the pillow. Inside it has a short message in looping handwriting.
Some ‘teachers’ you hire, Dumbledore.
He will be safer with me.