Stormseeker: Unwanted Destiny

Chapter 8: Latent Image

---

"I've brought something for you to try out," Mundungus says, grinning at me. He puts a small vial down on the table in front of me. "It's called Luxuriant Simulacrum Draught."

"What does it do?" I ask.

"It'll make you feel really good for a few hours," Mundungus says. "Make you see all kinds of wonderful things. And it's not at all addictive like Dream Sweets."

"What's the catch?" I wonder.

"Catch?" Mundungus says.

"You don't need to try to hide any downsides, Mundungus," I say, smirking. "I put myself into five years of withdrawal from Dream Sweets because I thought it was worth the price."

Mundungus winces. "No, nothing like that. This really isn't addictive. It doesn't do anything when it wears off. Well, there's some lingering effects. You see, it causes hallucinations. Sometimes, um, corporeal ones."

"Corporeal hallucinations?" I repeat.

Mundungus nods. "Generally pleasant ones while the full effect is going. Now, it's the lingering effect you need to watch out for. Stray thoughts might cause outright dangerous ones."

"Right..." I say. "Alright, I'll try it out. How much do I owe you?"

"Ten galleons," Mundungus says.

I don't even argue at the price. I pull the money out of my bag and pass it over to him, then take the bottle and go to my room for some privacy. I'm so tired that the world only seems half real as it is. I wandlessly lock the door, and drink down the potion.

So sweet. The darkness recedes from my mind, to be replaced with bright, artificial colors. I'm still tired, but now my heart is racing. I'm so strung up that I couldn't possibly sleep now. Fairy dragons brush up against my skin, and I shiver at the sensation.

Hours later, as I drift off toward sleep, I have a waking dream of a man with glowing red eyes holding me possessively.

---

"You really ought to pick up another wand," Cassie says. "You're even more useless than usual in a fight without it."

I snort softly. "I don't really care. Encourage me to learn how to do without it faster."

On the Hogwarts Express, I spot Luna sitting alone in one of the compartments. I grin broadly at seeing her again, and drag Cassie in by the sleeve to sit with her.

"Hello, Stormseeker," Luna says, looking at me with a dreamy smile. "How is this universe treating you this time?"

"Harry, who is this?" Cassie says, looking at me in puzzlement.

"Cassie, this is Luna Lovegood," I say. "Luna, Cassiopeia Black."

Luna gives a long look toward Cassie. "Nice to meet you. How is your grand-nephew, Stubby Boardman?"

"Who?" Cassie wonders.

"Sirius Black," I say.

"What?" Cassie says. "How? Did you tell her?"

I grin broadly and shake my head. "Luna is... very perceptive. She sees things that most other people can't. But most people think she's crazy for it."

"Wrackspurts," Luna says. "So many people are infested with wrackspurts."

"Wrackspurts?" Cassie says in confusion.

"They flit inside your head and make it go all fuzzy," Luna says.

"I... see," Cassie says.

"Oh, you have one in you now," Luna says absently. She pulls out a butterbeer cork from her pocket and offers it to Cassie. "Here, try this."

"Huh?" Cassie says.

"To repel the wrackspurts," Luna says.

"Er, no thanks," Cassie says. "I think I'll just take my chances."

And so, second year begins with me stubbornly refusing to use any wand but my own. I hate it, though. I feel so weak and nearly helpless without my wand. At times like this, I might wish for the artificial augmentation of my power that I'd discovered in the last world I visited. But it was a mere physical change. It didn't carry on into the next life. Maybe someday, I'll figure out how to duplicate it. Preferably without the unfortunate side-effect of making me slightly insane. I'm still not convinced that that didn't have lingering mental effects.

Professor Lupin teaches another year of Battle Magic, proving that this was apparently sufficient for bypassing the curse entirely. He might not be the best possible teacher, but at least he's sufficient that I wouldn't mind spending seven years with him. Well, it's not so much that he's a bad teacher or anything, just some of the baggage that he brings along. I am, however, in no way ever going to let on to him that he bit me in another life.

I watch the Sorting carefully again, curious to see if there will be any differences. But I remember even less of the year below mine than I do of my own. The few people I do remember go to the houses I remember them having been in. I smile at Luna as she comes over to sit at the Ravenclaw table with us.

When classes start up again, the teachers have been used to seeing me attempting my spells without a wand. However, the one that I would really like to be able to get down wandlessly is Muffliato. I'm far too paranoid about eavesdroppers. I suppose that's understandable, especially considering that Morag MacDougal is my classmate.

---

Halloween arrives. I have to wonder just what horrible thing might happen this year, especially given that the Dark Lord is back. As I sit through the Halloween Feast, nervous and rankling, I find my eyes drifting toward the staff table. To Dumbledore, to Snape, and especially to Malfoy. But none of them seem to give any indication that something might be going on somewhere, or something horrible about to happen.

"Something wrong, Harry?" Cassie asks.

"Nothing in particular," I say. "It's just that it's Halloween."

"This was the night your parents died, wasn't it?" Draco asks.

I nod absently. That's not why I'm always so nervous, but I'm not going to argue.

I try to sleep that night, but I find myself tossing and turning uselessly. Well, if I'm not going to be able to sleep, I might as well enjoy it. I pull out one of the potions Mundungus got for me from my bag and drink it down.

I lay on my back in my bed, staring up at the images and colors swirling around me. So beautiful, so relaxing. Then, I feel something brushing up against my skin. Warmth, soft breath upon me.

I blink. Tom Riddle is sitting on the edge of my bed. No, he's not really here. This is just a hallucination. But why am I hallucinating about the Dark Lord? More importantly, why am I fantasizing about Tom Riddle touching me? I'll admit that I find him incredibly hot, and powerful, but I'm also scared to death of him.

"Why so scared?" Tom whispers, grinning at me. "This is what you really want, isn't it?"

My heart pounds. I restrain the urge to answer him aloud. He's not real. He's not really here. The other boys in my dorm would wonder who I'm talking to. But all I can think of is that I'm terrified of this young man sitting so casually before me. He's evil. He captured me. He tortured me. He hurt me.

"No?" Tom says. "So be it." He holds up a wand and points it at me. "Crucio."

I can't help but scream aloud at that. It feels like hot needles are piercing my skin all over my body. How can this just be a hallucination? This feels like the real Cruciatus Curse to me! After a few seconds, it stops, leaving Tom looking down at me smugly.

"Harry!" Draco says, coming up to my bed and ripping open the curtains.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Terry asks.

"He's just having a nightmare," Stephen says tiredly. "Put up a Silencing Charm and go back to bed."

"Is that all I am to you, Harry?" Tom says. "Nothing more than a nightmare?"

I've obviously spent too long as Harry Potter. Now even my hallucinations are calling me by that name.

"I'm disappointed in you," Tom says. "Crucio."

Screaming in agony. My vision fills with exploding stars. It's like I'm on fire from the inside out. When the pain fades again, Draco and Terry are hauling me downstairs. They're probably trying to get me to the hospital wing. Luna is in the common room.

"That won't help," Luna says.

"Do you know what's wrong with him, Luna?" Draco asks.

Luna cocks her head at me. "There's a simulacrum of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named following him."

"Merlin," Terry utters.

"So, you can see me, can you?" Tom addresses Luna.

"I can," Luna says.

"Fascinating," Tom says.

Alright, so Luna is so mental that she can see other people's hallucinations? That's really taking the cake.

"Please don't hurt him anymore," Luna says. "He's just scared."

"Luna..." I rasp.

"Calm down, Stormseeker," Luna says.

"I'm glad somebody seems to have some clue what's going on here," Draco mutters.

"He's mine," Tom says. "And I will not allow anything to come between us. Not even his own fear."

"He would be less afraid if you didn't hurt him so much," Luna says.

"But he wants to be hurt," Tom says.

"This is ridiculous," I mutter. "What do I look like, a fucking masochist?"

"No, this is clearly not what he wants," Luna says.

Tom snorts softly. "What do you know? You're talking to a simulacrum that is an embodiment of his own desires."

"I'm quite certain that I don't want to be Crucioed," I comment dryly.

"Like you would know," Tom says. "You refuse to even acknowledge your own desires."

"Whether that's true or not, I'm still quite sure that no matter what I might want does not include torture," I say.

"You do, however, want to be punished when you do something wrong," Tom says. "It quite upsets you when you are not. And you did wrong, in rejecting me. So I punished you."

"This is really weird," Draco says. "You're talking to... what? Harry, do you have some sort of connection to the Dark Lord after all?"

I ignore him, staring firmly into Tom's glowing red eyes. Glowing red? He didn't have glowing red eyes before. Did he? Or is that just the simulacrum, just the image of him that I dreamed up?

"So you're saying, if I didn't reject you, you wouldn't punish me?" I say.

"Precisely," Tom says.

"Fine, then," I say, sighing.

Tom grins at me broadly. He leans close over me. "So, then, do you accept me?"

"Yes," I say. It's just a simulacrum, after all. It's not real, anyway. I see no need to be tortured by my own hallucinations, or to be terrified of my own fantasies.

"Say it," Tom says. "Say it clearly."

I sigh. "Yes, I accept you. Alright? Happy now?"

"Yes, much," Tom says. He helps me to my feet again.

I glance to the other three in the room. The real people. Draco and Terry are gaping at me, although Luna looks just about as dreamy as usual. "I'm going back to bed," I say. "If any rumors about this get out, I'll probably kill someone."

"Of course," Draco says.

---

I'm very tired when I wake up the next morning. Thankfully, it's a Sunday, so I'm thinking I'll just take a nap in the afternoon and call it good. I've slept in as it is, and breakfast has already started. It doesn't help that I'm still being followed around by a faded simulacrum of Tom Riddle, either. What is with my mind, anyway?

"Harry?" Draco says, coming into the dorm to grab something from his trunk. "What happened last night, anyway?"

"At least cast a privacy spell first, damn it," I mutter.

"Huh?" Draco says.

I snatch his wand from him and say, "Muffliato." I hand it back. "You really ought to learn that spell."

"Got it," Draco says. "So, want to tell me? I'm dying to know."

"If anybody wonders, I had a bad dream on the anniversary of my parents' deaths," I say. "And then refused to go to the hospital wing or use a Dreamless Sleep potion."

"Alright," Draco says. "But what really happened? You were talking to the Dark Lord?"

I rub my head. "The Dark Lord returned in June," I say. "He's the one who killed Ginny Weasley."

Draco's eyes widen. "And how were you involved?"

"Painfully," I say. "And he took my wand, too."

"I was wondering why you didn't have it," Draco says. "So... um... which side are you on, anyway?"

"The side that wants to be left alone so I can study," I say, sighing. "I don't think it's going to be that easy, though."

"Probably not," Draco agrees.

"Come on, let's get some breakfast," I say.

We go down to the Great Hall to get something to eat. Thankfully, it doesn't sound like anything but me possibly having nightmares has gotten out. I can deal with people thinking I have nightmares. I mean, it's true, after all. But nothing good could happen if they knew the truth, or even what looks like the truth.

After breakfast, as I'm thinking of going to take a nap, Dumbledore calls me into his office. Snape also joins us.

"Is something wrong?" I ask. I really hope this isn't about what happened in Ravenclaw Tower last night. I'm with two skilled Legilimens here. I reinforce my Occlumency barriers stubbornly. They don't need to know about that. I'm so glad that they should not be able to see the simulacrum behind me.

"Harry, something happened last night," Dumbledore says.

I know nothing about this. He can't be talking about me. I keep my face a mask, trying to look like obviously nothing happened to me.

"He called us to hide side last night," Snape says. "After the feast." He scowls. "I believe Malfoy was there as well."

They really aren't talking about me. Right, of course not. I hold onto my mask, avoiding making myself appear relieved. They don't seem to be paying too much attention to my reactions anyway, at least.

"So, he's really doing it, then," I say. "How many of them were there?"

"Around two dozen," Snape says.

Dumbledore frowns. "This is most worrying."

Snape turns to me, and says, "He gave me a message for you, as well. He told me he has something of yours, and he will return it in exchange for the prophecy."

"Is that all?" I say, snorting.

"He must not get his hands on the full wording of the prophecy," Dumbledore says.

"Why?" I say. "It's nonsense anyway, and you know it. It's utterly irrelevent. Let him go chasing shadows if he wants to. I want my wand back."

"It might give him an edge in some way," Dumbledore says.

"No it won't," I say.

"It may make him all the more eager to try to kill you," Dumbledore says.

I snort. "Then let him. He's already trying to kill me. I don't see what difference that makes."

"It could make him think he's winning," Dumbledore says. "If we grant him a single concession, he may think that he can succeed at getting others."

"Wouldn't it be a good think if he were willing to resolve his differences through diplomacy rather than violence?" I say.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore says. "But I see no good in coming of this line of thinking. We will not be telling him the prophecy. That's final."

"If that's your final judgment, then I will just have to do it myself," I say. "I have no intention of abiding by that. I want my wand back."

"Harry..." Dumbledore says.

"Don't 'Harry' me," I say. "I know the prophecy. Unless you plan to Obliviate me now, or Merlin forbid, cast another spell to control my actions yourself, you cannot prevent me from doing so. That's my decision, not yours. Do you want a concession for that yourself?"

"Potter, you should not be disrespectful of the Headmaster," Snape says.

"I'm not speaking as a second year student here," I say. "I'm speaking as a member of the Order of the Phoenix. I'm not a little boy, and you know it."

"You are certainly acting like one," Snape points out.

I reel as if struck. "My apologies," I say, bowing my head humbly. "Dumbledore, I would very much like my wand back. I know that the prophecy doesn't matter anymore. At this point, it would only serve as a false lead to send him chasing and wasting his time with. Ultimately, I would prefer if you would allow me to make this decision. What would you do if he had taken your wand?"

"If he had taken my wand, then things would be far more serious than they already are," Dumbledore comments.

"I already know the prophecy," I say. "I would prefer not to have to go behind your back in order to do this. I'll give you another concession if you want it. I still believe in diplomacy."

"I cannot ask that of you, Harry," Dumbledore says.

"I'm offering," I say. "Fair exchange."

"You should not have to give him any concessions," whispers the faint simulacrum of Tom Riddle.

"No," Dumbledore says. "I cannot ask something of you when I'm giving you nothing, regardless."

"Very well," I say.

"Severus, if you can get Harry's wand back from him, then tell him the full prophecy," Dumbledore says. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies, and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not, and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."

I really didn't know that prophecy. He never actually even told it to me. I've successfully bluffed Dumbledore.

Snape's eyes flick between Dumbledore and me. "If you are certain of this, then I shall do so."

"You must be on your guard, Harry," Dumbledore says. "He will surely redouble his efforts to slay you."

"Let him," I say. "It's not like he can actually kill me. I can't die. All it will do is give me the opportunity to know where he's going to be later in the day."

Snape scowls and stares at me for a long moment. "I would not be so cocky, if I were you. He might just find a way to make you stay dead."

"Fine," I say. "I'll be wary. But you'll forgive me if I'm not quite as scared as I otherwise might be." I'm actually pretty terrified of the idea of him not killing me, but I don't mention that.

"You don't need to fear me so much," whispers the translucent image of Tom Riddle behind me.

"You would suggest trying to lead him into a trap by luring him into attempting to kill you?" Dumbledore says, raising an eyebrow.

"Exactly," I say.

"We'll need to also carefully check the wand to make sure that he has not tampered with it in any way," Dumbledore says.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Potter," Snape says. "This is a dangerous game you play."

"I know," I say. "Trust me, alright?"

"That is not very reassuring," Snape says.

---

A few days later at breakfast, Snape comes up to the Ravenclaw table and says, "I found your wand, Potter. Do try not to lose it again."

I take it gratefully from him. "Thank you, sir."

Now to see what the fallout from this will be. At least the image of Tom Riddle has finally faded. I really don't know if I ever want to take that potion again. Not if that sort of thing is going to be the result.

"Wait," Draco says after a few minutes. "Didn't you say--"

"Later, Draco," I interrupt. I give him a look.

"Oh," Draco says. "Sorry."

"It's a good thing he found it," Cassie says. "I doubt you're ever going to be able to cast every spell wandlessly."

"I'm a little more optimistic than that," I say with a smirk.