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Author: KEDme Story: Home Alone: Shadow Rising Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 10 Words: 85,731
Disclaimer: Morning came with a drizzle. Leaning on a half-open window in the living room of Privet Drive, Ginny felt the spray of raindrops on her skin and marvelled how the weather reflected her mood perfectly. Just how had her life changed so drastically in less than twenty-four hours? Only yesterday morning she was waking up to the smell of bacon in the Granger home. It seemed so long ago. Last night, she had sneaked into Harry's room to check on him but, true to her word, she had not bothered him. When she'd quietly entered the room, Harry was fast asleep on his bed, fully clothed and lying on his back. Walking to the edge of the bed, she hesitated briefly, wondering what she was doing there. Harry had just been through a major ordeal and needed his rest. Ginny remembered chiding herself for her selfishness. He didn't need any more disruptions, no matter how much she needed to talk to him. Watching him sleep, Ginny remembered pondering on how vulnerable he had seemed under the spell of the dreamless sleep potion that Dumbledore had given him. Very rarely had she ever seen his face so relaxed and peaceful. The Harry she was familiar with seemed to bear the weight of the world on his slight but strong shoulders during his waking hours. Out of frustration, she balled her fists tightly. Why had it all come down to him? What was so special about Harry Potter that the Fates had decided, long ago, that he was the One? Ginny had no answers for these questions. All she knew was the truth her heart whispered to her, when she took the time to listen. She had tried to fight it – had tried to deny it – but it kept coming back to the same realisation; he was, and always would be, part of her very soul. She had crawled into bed with him, and carefully laid her head on his evenly rising chest. As if by instinct, he had immediately snuggled closer to her, their bodies forming together as if they had been doing it forever. It felt so right that it was hard to believe she had lived so long without it, and slowly she drifted off to sleep. They had stayed like that till the early morning storm made its presence known, rousing Ginny from her dreamless sleep. Just as quietly as she had entered, she slipped out of the bed cautiously so as to not wake him, and made her way to the living room to gather her belongings. The quietness of the house, however, coupled with the sounds of the storm brewing outside, had sufficiently distracted her from her original purpose. Touching her forehead to the cool, newly repaired glass in front of her at exactly the spot where Harry's scar would be, she braced her arms on the windowsill and gulped in the cool morning air. The shadow of pain from the lightning-bolt scar still lingered slightly and, even though she had no clue what it meant, she welcomed it. Perhaps it was her overactive imagination, or maybe it was just an after-effect of last night's dreamwalk. Whatever it was, the pain connected her to Harry, and she was not willing to sacrifice the feeling just yet. She'd hold on to it as long as possible. The rain was picking up again, its torrents driving into the pavement with a brutality that made the turbulence coursing through her body feel justified. She didn't know where this fury had come from. Somehow, it felt separate from her, almost like she didn't own the feeling. Since waking last night, her state of mind had been unusually on edge. She felt almost raw inside from the range of emotions churning through her. Instinctively Ginny knew something significant had changed, but she wasn't quite sure what. Thankfully, no one had picked up on anything odd yet. Presently she didn't feel up to putting this... whatever it was, into words – not when she was so confused about it herself. Luckily, she was a master at controlling her emotions; it was how she had escaped detection for so long during her first year, after all. Only Harry had ever been able to elicit a total lack of emotional control from her, shattering her carefully devised and perfectly rehearsed cover. When it came to him, she was terrible at concealing her feelings. At least she had been up until last year. She sighed inwardly as a bolt of lightning flashed and the thunder reverberated in the dark sky. The noise of the storm drowned out the sounds around her, making her miss the soft footsteps that approached from behind. "I believe this storm delays our plans to leave for the time being," a familiar voice stated near her ear. Jumping slightly in surprise, Ginny turned to her father and gave him a weak smile. "Yes, it does tend to put a damper on our return home, doesn't it?" Looking past her out the window into the garden and the street beyond, Arthur Weasley frowned. "I hope the poor blokes who are on guard duty this morning remembered to put an Impervius Charm on their cloaks." A sudden unexplainable surge of annoyance passed through Ginny. "Dumbledore is a fool if he thinks a few second-rate wizards are going to stop Voldemort from getting what he wants," a cool, angry voice said from the doorway. Both Ginny and her father turned in surprise, to see Harry casually leaning against the doorframe. "Harry," Arthur said brightly. "I didn't realise that you were up. How are you feeling, son?" The figure at the doorway sneered arrogantly, as if Arthur had not addressed him. "It'll be interesting to see how long it is before the Dark Lord finds a way around the old man's little obstacles. You do know it's a lost cause, don't you?" "That's a matter of opinion, I suppose," Arthur answered as benignly as possible, while obviously taking great efforts to control his temper. Ginny shivered in spite of herself. Something about the way Harry was looking at them and the way he was speaking, strongly reminded her of somebody. It was disconcerting, really, and quite scary. Looking at him now, it suddenly hit her how similar Harry was acting to her memory of sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle, the boy Ginny had come to know so well. It was as if her nightmare were coming to life. Perhaps sensing her fear, Harry strode purposefully towards her. Ginny's eyes widened as he stood mere inches from her face, completely ignoring the presence of her father standing by her side. Looking at her intently with an expression she had never seen him use, he said, "I was disappointed to find you gone this morning, luv," in a voice that was low and suggestive. "I had hoped you'd stick around." Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly. She didn't know how to reply. This behaviour was so uncharacteristic of Harry Potter – the Harry she knew – that it left her speechless. She could feel the waves of emotions rolling off him, soaking into her as if she was a dry sponge. There were so many emotions it was overwhelming and frightening. Ginny knew she shouldn't be feeling this. It was wrong... something was very wrong with her and she needed it to stop. Harry's emotions were mixed with her own. So tightly wound together were they, she couldn't feel where his began and hers ended. It was almost torture and she didn't know what to do, except gasp and attempt to step away. She needed him as far away from her as possible. Luckily, her father noticed her distress. Pulling her away from Harry, he forced Ginny to stand behind him, as he calmly faced the dark-haired teenager he had come to think of as a son. Harry continued to stare at her as she peeked out from behind her father. His expression, though unreadable, was intense. "Gather your things, Ginny," he said firmly, while not taking his eyes off Harry. "We'll be leaving soon." The two men stared at each other wordlessly for a few minutes, silently challenging each other. Harry's seemingly calm, cool demeanour matched Mr. Weasley's quiet concern and controlled anger. Harry broke eye contact first, arrogantly dismissing the older wizard with a cocky wink, leaving him as red as his Weasley hair. Father and daughter watched him turn and saunter casually out of the room, whistling an upbeat tune. Her father cleared his throat. "Well," he said weakly. "That was quite strange." So caught up in the jumble of emotions churning through her, Ginny barely reacted except to nod her head in agreement. *** Harry had awoken from his deep sleep to find Ginny gone from his bed, and that immediately annoyed and frightened him. He had known she was there, because he had woken up earlier and had to shift around her, to bring the blood flow back into the arm pinned underneath. Before the sleeping draught took effect again, he had taken a minute to stare openly at her. Some of the anger churning inside him had quickly dissipated as he studied her sleeping face. He traced a finger down her jawbone to her slightly open lips, and paused long enough to feel their softness. 'Merlin, she's beautiful,' he thought. A voice in the back of his mind surged to life just then, drowning out the happy feelings that had threatened to break free. 'Beautiful, iss ssshe? Too badd I can't sssee your little girlfriend for myssself. But tell me Harrry, will it be worth the pain you'll feel when sshee's taken from you?' it hissed. 'I'd never let that happen!' he thought angrily, but with a twinge of fear. 'Jusst like you didn't let it happen to your Godfather?' the voice hissed with amusement. Harry flinched inwardly, and the snake knew he'd hit his mark. 'Come now, Harry. I thought you were cleverer than that! Sshee's a threat to my planss, and you know I don't take threatss lightly. We will be meeting, ssooner or later. Haven't you learned by now that I alwayss get what I want?' 'Shut up!' he yelled in his mind. 'I'd rather die than let you touch her!' 'I do believe you're ssseriousss about that,' the snake mused thoughtfully. 'But your noble intentionsss have little effect on what I do, or do not do, Potter,' he said in a sneering voice. 'Perhapss that'ss a lesssson I sstill need to teach you.' It paused long enough to let Harry relax and begin to drift off to sleep, thinking he was once again alone with his thoughts. 'That'ss right Harry...' the evil voice cooed. 'Sssleep now... and when you wake up, thingss will be very different... I promissse....' *** After leaving the living room, Harry went back to his room and paced. He was so angry with himself that he was afraid his magic might seep out, and he'd find himself doing something stupid. Then again, maybe if he provoked Dudley into a confrontation he could blow the fat pig up, like he had Aunt Marge a few years ago. Even if he got into trouble, it might just be worth it. 'Nope,' he thought ruefully, 'that would cause too much trouble and draw too much attention to me. After what happened downstairs, I don't need any more trouble or attention.' Harry didn't know what had come over him. Since last night, whenever he was in the presence of others, he felt different - like he wasn't in control anymore. He found himself saying things that he didn't mean, and doing things he would not normally do. What had he been thinking when he'd said that to Ginny? And in front of her father, no less! That didn't even begin to cover the things he'd said to Mr. Weasley. He had sensed her fear and intended to comfort her. Instead he had scared her even more. He had no idea why he had done it. Whatever was going on was beginning to frighten him. Feeling totally out of control was terrifying, and he didn't trust himself to be anywhere near Ginny – or anyone else, for that matter. A sudden fear gripped him. What if he was under the Imperius Curse? But, no... he had been under that before, and it certainly didn't feel like this. If not the Imperius, then some other spell? Maybe a potion? Harry racked his brain and tried to think of something that would make him do and say the opposite of what he really wanted. After thinking hard for several minutes and going through all the curses, spells, and potions he had learned so far in his five years at Hogwarts, he felt extremely frustrated because nothing came to mind. Maybe it was something new. Somehow he felt he was missing something... something important. Harry resolved to go through all of his old schoolbooks, as well as the books Sirius and Remus had given him for Christmas, as soon as possible. Right now he didn't think he could concentrate. Taking a deep breath, he focused his thoughts instead on Ginny. For a moment, the mere memory of her helped calm his frazzled nerves, and made him feel slightly better. He closed his eyes and imagined he could feel her emotions coursing through him. He could feel a range of emotions that he could attribute to her - concern, empathy, confusion, fear, and anger. Feeling certain it was his imagination working overtime, he tried to concentrate on the positive emotions instead of the negative ones. However, when he thought again of what he had said to her downstairs, he immediately began pacing again, cursing himself as he went. A sharp rap on the door broke his stride. "Come in," he said loudly, hoping that it wasn't Mr. Weasley coming to reprimand him for what he had done downstairs. Or, worse yet, Fred and George. Thankfully, it was neither. Instead, Dudley poked his massive blonde head into the room, trying his best to look intimidating. "Before your kind leave, Potter, I insist they wake my friends up from whatever evil spell you've put them under," he told his cousin with more bravado than he probably felt. "I don't trust you to do it properly, and Piers' mother wants him home early this morning. They have to go to his grandmother's house today." Part of Harry thought it amusing that Piers even had a grandmother who cared to see him. Another part of him was extremely annoyed with Dudley for his crack about his Wizarding skills. Just as he was about to make a snide retort and tell his cousin to go away, though, he found himself saying something completely different. "Of course I'll ensure that your friends are taken care of," Harry said walking over to him with a charming smile. Dudley was completely taken aback by Harry's pleasantness. Thinking that he had some ulterior motive, he stammered, "A-and why would you do that?" "Because you asked, mate, why else?" he found himself replying, cuffing his cousin on the shoulder in a jovial way. "After all, you are my family, aren't you?" "Y-yes," Dudley spluttered. "I s-suppose." "My, you're looking dapper this morning, Dud," he said with a low, approving whistle. "I bet the ladies would really go for that rugged look you have going on." "T-thanks," Dudley replied uncertainly, looking down at his rumpled clothing. He appeared extremely confused at Harry's odd behaviour. Although outwardly he appeared pleasant and charming, somewhere in the back of Harry's mind he was furious. He knew exactly what he was doing but it was as if his body was not his anymore. He tried with all his might to break free of whatever had its grip on him, but it was useless. Whatever was going on was obviously some kind of Dark Magic and that only led one place. Voldemort. "Now be a good Muggle and go eat some breakfast," he heard himself tell his cousin dismissively with a wave of his hand and a small push. "I'll see that your problem gets dealt with very soon, and then you and I are going to have a little talk. Oh, and Dudley... say hello to Ginny for me." He gave his cousin a parting wink and a cock-eyed smile. *** Dudley left, spluttering and stammering as he went. When Harry closed the door on him he found himself seething with rage. How dare he dismiss him? This was not his house - it belonged to Dudley. Even if Potter did grow up here and occupy a room for a few weeks every year, it would never be his home. Dudley would see to that, just as he had for the past fourteen years. More than a little disgruntled, he trudged downstairs in his normal, noisy way. Dudley didn't trust Potter to do what he said he would do. So, even if he hated it, he supposed he would take care of the situation himself. Maybe that red-headed girl would help. A slow grin appeared on his fat, pudgy face. Potter had practically given him permission – not that he needed permission, mind. Sure his cousin was barking mad, but that didn't change the fact that the girl was extremely pretty. Feeling slightly better, he walked towards the kitchen with a renewed bounce in his step. As he neared the living room, however, he heard several voices. Pausing just outside the door to listen, he recognised one voice as the red-head and the other as her horrid father. They appeared to be arguing. "I don't care what you say, Dad," the girl was saying. "Harry wouldn't hurt me. I refuse to listen to this anymore." "Ginny," her father pleaded. "Harry is not himself, and that makes me want to get you as far away from him as possible. I know that he once saved your life, and for that I am very grateful-" "-don't forget, Dad," she interrupted. "He saved your life as well last Christmas!" "Of course I didn't forget," he answered impatiently. "It was the manner in which he did save my life that worries me. I said this earlier, and I'll say it again. I love Harry as if he was my own son, but that's not the issue. You are my daughter and my job is to protect you. Right now Harry is unstable, and I think it best that you stay as far away from him as possible." "You don't understand!" she raged. Before she had a chance to get any further, her father cut her off. "I refuse to budge on this, Ginny. I know that if your mother were here, she would support my decision wholeheartedly. You are not to see Harry anymore, and that's final." "You can't do that!" she yelled. Arthur sighed heavily as he looked at his daughter's angry face. He just hoped that she'd be able to forgive him once this was all over. "I realise that once school starts, the matter will be out of my hands. Hopefully by then, Dumbledore will have an answer regarding Harry's odd behaviour. Until then, we just have to trust that he has the situation well in hand." He walked over and put a comforting arm around Ginny's stiff shoulders. "He's taken care of the boy for most of his life, and I feel certain he will find a solution to this problem as well. Before you know it, Harry will be back to his old self." "And if that happens, will you change your mind?" she asked angrily. Pausing, he answered carefully, "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." "That doesn't reassure me, Dad," she retorted. "I'm sorry, Ginny. It's the best I can do right now. Even if Harry's situation changes, he's still the number one target of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Linking you with Harry almost puts you in as much danger as him right now. After last night... well, my priority is to keep you safe. If that means keeping the two of you apart, then so be it." "You don't understand," she stated a little too calmly. "What exactly don't I understand?" he father asked. Something in her voice gave him pause. "It's too late," Ginny said quietly with a touch of sadness. "We're already linked." Narrowing his eyes, he surveyed his daughter, trying to decipher what she had just said. "W-what do you mean... you're already linked?" "We're life bonded," she whispered. "I can feel it." Her father looked at her in horror. "Are you certain?" he asked fearfully. "Well, as I've never had it happen before, I can't be one hundred percent certain," she said cynically. "But from what I know of the ritual, I'd say that it's true. I'm life bonded to Harry, and there's nothing anyone can do to change it." Her father paled. "If this is true, then we need to speak to Dumbledore right away." "I'm sure he already knows," Ginny said calmly. "As does V-Voldemort." From Dudley's vantage point through the crack in the door, he could see a sort of silent communication going on between father and daughter. Confused, he was just about to turn and leave, when Fred and George appeared from nowhere on either side of him. "Lurking about in your own home, Dursley?" the twin on his right said mischievously. "No, Fred. I think old Dudders here is eavesdropping," the twin on his left said thoughtfully. Grinning evilly, he pulled out his wand. "Perhaps we could help him out and enlarge his ears so that he can hear other people's private conversations better." Dudley's already large eyes widened even further, on seeing the wizards pointing their wands at him. Backing away, he fought a scream that threatened to escape from his mouth. "Didn't anyone ever bother teaching you manners, Dursley?" Fred said threateningly. "I-I was j-just-" he stuttered. Luckily, Mr. Weasley had heard the commotion. Popping his head in the kitchen, he looked at his sons disapprovingly. "What are you two doing?" he asked angrily. "I thought I told you not to tease the poor Muggle." "We caught him eavesdropping," George growled. Arthur looked sharply at the cowering Dudley. "How long were you standing there?" he asked threateningly, all traces of kindness gone from his face. "A-about five minutes or s-so," Dudley stammered. Arthur shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry to have to do this to you, son," he said as he drew out his wand. "W-want are you doing?" he cried. "P-please..." Before he could beg any further, Arthur performed the spell. "Obliviate!" Dudley took on the appearance of someone who had just been hit hard over the head. His eyes became unfocused and he appeared to sway slightly. The twins looked at their father in confusion and curiosity but he ignored them. "Now son," Arthur said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What was it you needed to speak to me about?" Coming back into focus, Dudley blinked. What was it he had wanted? Oh, oh... yes. Now he remembered. "I was looking for someone to wake up my friends," he said timidly. "Your friends?" Arthur asked, shooting his sons a questioning look that clearly said he was not pleased. "Guess we forgot to mention them," Fred said weakly. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that," George chimed in. He did not look especially sorry, however. "What have you done?" Arthur asked with a hint of a threat. "It wasn't us, Dad," Fred answered. "We swear! It was Hermione. She gave them a few drops of sleeping draught to knock them out." "Where are they?" the older wizard asked tiredly. "U-up stairs," Dudley answered. "Let's go," he told the boy. Turning to his sons, he ordered, "While I'm gone, I need the two of you to finish putting this house back in order. I want it exactly the way you found it yesterday. And leave your sister alone. She's been through enough. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir," they said together. "Good. Now, lead the way, my boy," he said jovially, turning to Dudley. "And on the way upstairs, would you be so kind as to explain how those telliphisions boxes work?" *** Once Dudley had gone and the door was safely closed, Harry groaned and threw himself down on the bed hard, running a hand through his unruly hair in an effort to calm himself. The conversation had not gone at all to his liking. He had meant to insult Dudley, not say nice things to him. Why had he done that? He'd had no intention of having a conversation with Dudley, and since when did he consider Dudley a friend? He thought his cousin looked like hell, and he would never in his right mind suggest that Dudley ever approach Ginny! There had to be a logical explanation. Harry thought back on the incident last night with Dumbledore. He remembered waking up from the nightmare/vision seething with rage. Voldemort had mentioned Ginny in this latest vision, and Wormtail had been there as well. No one had needed to tell him that Wormtail had found a way to escape. Harry had known that capturing the rat would not be that easy. He had fooled Wizards twice as experienced as him, even if he did appear to be a bumbling, foolish coward. He remembered feeling separate from himself - distant. His scar had hurt, but not as much as it usually did. That was different. Come to think of it, his scar wasn't bothering him much now, either. It prickled slightly, but this was a change from the constant pain he usually felt. Harry furrowed his brows in concentration. He definitely felt different, but how and why? His mind felt wide open and vulnerable. Yes... that was it. He felt the connection to Voldemort, and it was wide open. How had this happened? Jumping up, he began pacing even more heavily than before. 'What have you done?' he thought desperately. The laugh penetrated his very skull, making him drop to his knees in pain and shock. 'You didn't believe me when I sssaid thingsss would be different, did you Harry?" the snake hissed. 'You can't do this! I won't let you!' Harry told the voice defiantly as he pressed his hands to his ears in an effort to block out the voice. 'You have no choice,' the snake replied gleefully. 'You belong to me now. I've won, Harry, and nothing that old fool, Dumbledore, doesss will change it.' Part of Harry knew the snake was right. Maybe he should just give up. How could he fight the monster? He was nothing – nobody! Just a scared kid who had no idea how to beat the thing residing inside him. Another, more stubborn part of him said to resist. Why should he give in and let the tosser win? Last night when Dumbledore had called him out, Tom had retreated. If he had such total control over him, why was Harry able to break through then? 'You're bluffing,' Harry thought triumphantly. 'You don't have total control over me, or we wouldn't be having this conversation. You'd have me walk off a cliff or over a bridge or something, and be done with it.' Harry felt Voldemort's anger and frustration well up inside him. He knew he'd hit a nerve. 'Inssolent boy!' the snake cried. 'You think this isss a game? I asssure you, Harry, this isssn't a game, but you will loossse if you continue to ressisst me!' 'Then I'll lose knowing I fought my hardest,' Harry told the voice mulishly. The snake seemed to recoil and fade. Its voice became distant as it retreated. 'I'll be back, Harry, when you leassst expect it. This isssn't over yet.' Somehow Harry knew that was the most truthful thing the snake had uttered during their entire conversation.
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