874Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works; all other characters and worlds belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with them.
Betad by Marethyu, Priapus, Mike God of Lore, Malcolm Tent, Old man of the mountain
The Illusive Mage
Chapter 08: Memories
Waking up to a pounding headache, I groan as I roll over and reach up to rub my forehead.
Freezing, I touch my forehead again and feel how sticky it feels, sitting up straight as I push through the pain and look down at myself.
Sticky, red, liquid coats my hand, and after a moment of panic, I realise something that doesn't bring me much comfort.
It's not my blood.
Well, not all my blood. I rush to the bathroom mirror, staring at myself. A strange, foul-smelling black ooze seems to have leaked from my scar, drying overnight, but my face and hands are covered in thick, mostly dried blood, which sends me into a panic as I search for any wound that could have caused this.
Finding nothing, I rush to wash myself clean, showering in scalding hot water that burns my skin in an attempt to feel clean, barely resisting the urge to vomit.
My sleep was not peaceful, dark dreams that I barely remember flooding my mind but I had none of this on me when I went to sleep.
A knocking on my door makes me panic, shouting that I'm in the shower as I fear that I'll find a dozen Aurors waiting for me on the other side as I quickly spam Scourgify at my sheets before settling for removing the bedding and placing the spare in its place as I stuff the still bloodstained sheets into my wardrobe.
"Well, hurry up! You're lucky classes have been cancelled; it's already midday," Draco whines, making me pause as I throw on a bathrobe.
"Damn, I slept through my alarm?" I say, opening the door, unsurprised when Draco walks straight in. "Wait, why were classes cancelled?"
"Obviously. Honestly, you're so lazy," Draco scoffs. "Don't expect me to give you a wake-up call every morning."
"Yeah, yeah, now focus. Classes cancelled, why?" I ask again, making him give me that smug look.
"It's a good job that one of us has their ear to the ground. Professor Quirrell was murdered," Draco says excitedly, my eyes widening.
"W-what? In Hogwarts?" I ask, my eyes flickering to where my blood-stained sheets are hidden.
"I know! The school is being swarmed with Aurors, and Father is here with the rest of the governors to question Dumbledore since he clearly failed to keep the school safe," Draco boasts. "They're trying to keep it a secret, but apparently, he was tortured to death; they found him in pieces, hanging from the ceiling in his classroom."
I don't respond for a moment, bile rising in my throat.
"Hey, don't look so worried. Between the Aurors and my Father, nothing is going to happen to us," Draco reassures me. "But Dumbledore is in deep trouble; they're saying this is the most brutal crime since the war ended, and it happened right under his nose. Still, they'll catch whoever did this soon; I've never heard of so many Aurors being sent to one crime scene."
A sensation of smugness and assurance floods through me, something inside me telling me that Draco's wrong. They won't find anything.
"Oh, right. Are you okay? You looked bad last night, honestly, you don't look much better right now," Draco asks, making me shrug.
"I had a massive headache come out of nowhere, just wanted to sleep it off," I say, making him roll his eyes.
"Ugh, you're such a muggle sometimes. There are potions for that, dumbass. Dobby!" Draco shouts, making the house elf appear. "Get Harry some pain-relief potion. Honestly, what would you do without me?"
Dobby agrees and vanishes, making Draco give me a smug look at my grateful smile.
"Thanks, Draco," I say simply, making him nod magnanimously.
"Anyway, get dressed already. We have a free day; you shouldn't waste it lying around all day. I'll be in the common room, but I'm not waiting forever," Draco scoffs, making me give him a weak grin as I run a hand through my hair.
Dobby returns with the promised potion, mumbling something about the great Harry Potter sir when I thank him, but I'm too focused on downing the bottle to pay attention as he pops away.
It doesn't entirely get rid of the headache, but it certainly lowers it to a more manageable level. As I sigh, I feel relief and get dressed quickly.
Opening the wardrobe to better hide my bloody sheets, I pause as I look into the empty space I stuffed them moments ago.
But-
…fuck. Dobby took them. He must have seen that there were dirty sheets and took them away.
"Dobby?"
"Master Harry Potter Sir called for Dobby? Does he need another potion?" Dobby asks with a wide-eyed stare.
"No, I'm fine, thanks. Did you take the sheets I put in my wardrobe?" I ask, making him nod his big bobblehead.
"Oh yes, sir. Dobby saw the messy sheets, and Master Draco told Dobby to treat Master Harry Potter Sir as family, so I took them for cleaning," Dobby says helpfully as I try to work out how to approach this. "Don't worry, Sir, Dobby is good at cleaning up blood! He's had much practice."
I blink at that casual admittance, my mind going back to the news articles about Lucius' trial at the end of the war. My mind flashes, seeing Lucius kneeling as I—no, somebody else—brand his forearm with a black mark, a snake wrapped around itself with a skull at the top.
"I- has anyone else seen them?" I ask, making him shake his head rapidly.
"Oh no, sir. None of my master's family has ever gone into the laundry room in all the years I've worked for them," Dobby assures me, and that makes too much sense. "If Master asks, Dobby will tell him that he cleaned some dirty sheets for Master Harry Potter Sir, Dobby would never lie to his beloved master, of course."
"I… thank you, Dobby," I finally say, relaxing slightly as my eyes narrow in thought. Lucius would never defy me, even if he-
Shaking my head, I fall back onto my bed, noticing the sheets are far neater now than when I made them.
Dobby pops away with an exaggerated bow, leaving me to my thoughts.
What's going on? I'm not stupid. Even I can work out just whose memories I'm seeing, or at least some of them.
Voldemort. I'm seeing Voldemort's memories; I woke up covered in blood, someone is dead, and I'm hearing voices.
But it's not just his memories; I'm seeing two distinct streams of memories, one male and one female.
The sensation of assurance and comfort overwhelms me again for a moment, followed by a sense of… frustration. They're trying to tell me something, but they can't; whatever connection we have isn't strong enough.
Well, that's something. I can't decide whether it's good or bad, but since I'm pretty sure whoever is trying to talk to me is also the person who probably used me as a meat puppet to kill Professor Quirrell I'm leaning towards 'good' as I head out of the room and to the common room.
'Hey, Sev, what's the Slytherin common room like?'
The voice isn't speaking to me; it is a faint memory of me- someone talking to a greasy-looking teenage boy who sighs at the pestering.
I know that greasy boy. Professor Severus Snape. His talk with me makes me freeze as I work out whose memories I'm seeing.
Lily Potter, formerly Lily Evans.
Calling on acting skills I didn't have yesterday, the shock doesn't show on my face as Draco calls me over. I give Daphne a wave as Draco pulls me out of the common room, hiding my confusion and revulsion.
Wait, when the fuck did I learn the Scourgify charm?
In the back of my mind, an image of me cleaning up the vomit from… a green-eyed baby flashes through my mind, making my mind race as I try to wrap my head around the fact that I'm seeing my mother's memories.
I never knew anything about them; the Dursleys made sure of that, but this isn't exactly how I saw myself learning more about them.
– Pansy Parkinson –
Potter was true to his word, giving her an in with Draco, who seemed far more willing to tolerate her after Potter claimed that they were 'friends'. It was a perfect opportunity to get in close with Draco, even if he mostly ignored her in favour of talking to Potter. She'd been invited to join them on a study session since classes were over and Snape had made it clear that he expected them to take advantage of the time to get ahead.
But why was she here?
The Mudblood chattered away as if she was supposed to be at this table. Sure, Potter might be a half-blood, but he was a half-blood that was the heir of two powerful families; what the fuck was Granger?
To make things worse, the buck-toothed freak had sat between Draco and Pansy, getting in the way of her plans, and she was showing Pansy up. The bitch was practically an encyclopaedia, parroting the books word for word.
As Pansy practised the spell they were trying to get down, she growled as her wand let off a few harmless sparks and failed to do anything else. Potter got it down first, followed by fucking Granger and then Draco, but she just couldn't get this stupid charm down.
"Oh, you're moving your wand wrong," Granger mocked, making Pansy turn to the bitch. "It's-"
"Who asked you, you fucking Mudblood?" Pansy growled, making Granger flinch back. Draco raised an eyebrow at her, scoffing under his breath as Granger's eyes watered, and she went to rise.
"Pansy, a word?" Potter drawled, placing his hand on Granger's shoulder and gently pushing her back into her seat.
Pansy went to respond but the look in his eyes made her words die in her throat as he stood up, gesturing for her to follow. Draco rolled his eyes, going back to his reading, ignoring them as Pansy followed Harry out of the library.
He looked around, making sure nobody was watching before he pulled her into a broom closet, closing and locking the door as he cast some spells she didn't recognise on the door.
"W-what? Granger was being an annoying bitch-" Pansy started, going silent at his look. "You said not to insult you, and I haven't since," Pansy feebly defended.
"Are you forgetting that my mother was a 'filthy mudblood'?" Potter asked darkly, making her gulp as he reached forward and took her wand out of her pocket, making her start to argue before she went silent. "I tried giving you a chance, but didn't it ever occur to you that we invited Granger for a reason? Are you so fucking short-sighted that you can't think five minutes ahead?" Harry growled. "You've got one chance to convince me that you're worth all this trouble, Parkinson, because even Draco thinks you're a fucking idiot after that display."
She went to speak, but he cut her off again as he reached forward and pulled her robe open, and she froze.
"Go on, tell me to stop," Potter dared as he removed her tie, unbuttoning her school shirt slowly and she felt tears sting her eyes at the unfairness. "When we leave this room, either you're going to apologise to Granger, and I'll back you up, or alternatively, I'll go back alone and tell Draco that you're too stupid to want in our friend group. Like I said, you've got one chance to make up for your fuck up."
Pulling her shirt open, he gripped her bra and flipped it up and over her breasts as she went to cover herself but stopped when he grasped her hand and pulled it aside. The closet was too small for them, barely enough room to extend her arm as Potter spun her around, their bodies pressed against each other.
With her own tie, he gripped her arms and pulled them behind her back, binding her wrists as he leaned in.
"I'm not having a great day and have some frustration to work off, Parkinson. You just volunteered to help me burn it off," Potter whispered into her ear before he bit her earlobe and tugged on it gently. "Behave, and I'll help you fix your fuck up. Refuse, and our deal is over before it even began, and you'll lose any chance you had with Draco."
His hand moved around her waist, reaching up to roughly squeeze her small breast, making her gasp as she felt a hardness pressing against her skirt.
"You can't fuck me," Pansy growled back. "I need to be a virgin-"
"I know, and I won't. I told you I was going to put that bitchy mouth to better use, didn't I? Say the word, and I'll let you go," Potter taunted, making her glad she wasn't facing him as she sighed with a heavy heart.
"Get it over with, asshole," Pansy spat, feeling him pulling down her underwear. She forced down her words as he pocketed her plain cotton panties, his hand slipping under her skirt and groping her buttocks as she pushed down her reaction, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
After what felt like minutes of molestation, he spun her around and, with a gesture, ordered her to kneel. She glared at him hotly, but after a moment, she obeyed and fell to her knees in the dusty closet.
His own robes parted, and she could see the bulge in his trousers as he smirked down at her.
"Well?" Potter said, making her roll her eyes.
"You tied my arms behind my back; what am I supposed to do?" Pansy spat out, making him grin.
"Improvise. You need to impress me if you want me to cover for your incompetence, Pansy. Let's see if we can find anything you're good at," Potter mocked as she glared up at him even as she leaned forward. He'd undone the button, thankfully, so she bit the zipper and slowly pulled it down as she felt her heart pound.
Managing to pull down the zipper, his grey boxers were exposed to her, and she took a deep breath before she repeated the trick with them, pulling them down with her teeth and a furious look in her eyes, feeling the large cock slap against her forehead.
It was already throbbing from the sight of her, half-naked and bound, pre-cum dripping from the bulbous crown. She couldn't stop herself from breathing in the musky scent, unlike anything else she'd ever smelt, as the cock rested against her face.
She hated this smug prick, who thought he was so fucking special, glaring up at him as he gave her a smug look.
"Get to work; we can't be gone for too long," Potter demanded, watching as she pulled back to examine the large manhood. Leaning forward, she stuck out her tongue and gave the shaft a reluctant, experimental lick, running her tongue from the base to the tip as she grimaced at the strange taste.
Leaning forward, she took the tip into her mouth with great reluctance as she reminded herself that this was for her future. Her lips slid along his shaft as she took inch after inch of Potter's fat half-blood cock into her mouth, barely managing to get just over half of it inside her mouth before she had to pull back. Potter gripped her hair, guiding her along his manhood as he violated her mouth with rough, careless thrusts.
To add to the insult, his shoe pushed against her naked quim, rubbing the tip against her slit as she forced down a moan, glaring up at the bastard. This wasn't fair; she was a pureblood, so why was she the one forced to obey him?
Pinned against the wall of the broom closet, she could do nothing but kneel there and let him have his way with her mouth, taking another first from her that she could never get back. If she didn't need him, she'd bite down and make sure no Potter ever bothered a proper pureblood again, but instead, she was reduced to allowing him to violate her mouth.
Her eyes watered, and her lipstick left stains along his cock as he thrust into her reluctantly pliant mouth, Potter taking his pleasure from her mouth without a care for her comfort. Her gagging was probably turning him on, seeing a pureblood heiress reduced to this. This was humiliating, degrading, it wasn't fucking fair.
Wanting this to be over faster, she sucked on the dick that was pumping into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing from the suction. Her tongue writhed against his foul cock, the salty taste of his pre-cum making her grimace.
As she felt his cock start to twitch, she felt blessed for just a moment as he pulled back before she realised his intention, stroking himself to completion before he groaned and unleashed his seed all over her breasts.
"There, happy? Now untie me, asshole," Pansy spat as she rose to her feet, her knees slightly red from the stone floor, feeling the thick, sticky seed resting on her boobs as she gave Potter an angry look. She knew insulting him wasn't helping, but he seemed to find her anger amusing.
Potter undid the tie binding her wrists together, a smirk on his lips as he watched her rub them, but as she went to leave the closet, he pulled her back.
"What now? You said we couldn't be gone for long," Pansy asked.
"Not just yet, I'm not done with you yet," Potter drawled, his hand darting forward and undoing the zip on her skirt, pulling it away.
"I told you, that thing is not going inside my pussy. You want to fuck? Go ask Granger; the
bitch would probably spread her legs for her noble defender," Pansy said, covering her pussy with one hand, but Potter just chuckled as he removed her shirt and bra as well, leaving her fully naked in front of him.
"And I agreed, you can keep your precious virginity," Potter retorted, grabbing her hand and pulling it aside, moving it between her legs as he dragged his long, middle finger along her slit, smirking at the arousal he felt. "But I'm not done punishing you yet. You can be as bitchy as you want to me in private, but don't think I won't discipline you for it."
As he spoke, he forced that long, thick finger into her virgin slit, making her gasp and try to close her legs to prevent his entry.
"Spread your legs," Potter ordered, and her body obeyed, legs parting to allow him to pump that finger into her womanhood. Despite her anger and humiliation, she had to grab his arm to steady herself as he added a second finger, his thumb toying with her clit as she gasped and reluctantly moaned.
"F-Fuck," Pansy mumbled, panting slightly as he sped up his ministrations, her hips pushing forward to meet his hand as she gave him a hooded look, lust and anger mixing as he gave her a cocky grin.
As he pushed her right to the edge, she panted desperately, but with a cruel grin, he pulled back his hands even as her hand darted to his wrist to try and keep him in place.
"Ask nicely, and I'll let you cum," Potter taunted, making her hesitate before she scoffed and glared at him.
"I'm not a degenerate like you; I don't care," Pansy lied, making him grin, feeling her orgasm slowly fade, much to her disappointment and anger.
"Hm, we'll see," Potter promised, kissing her neck as he started again, making her gasp as he moved her hand to his still-hard cock, giving her a warning look until she started to stroke it.
– Hermione Granger –
"D-do you think Harry is okay?" Hermione asked, trying to strike up a conversation with the quiet Malfoy.
"With Pansy? Please, he can handle that idiot with his hands tied behind his back," Draco snorted, making her blink.
"Idiot? Aren't you all friends?" Hermione asked, watching Draco scowl at her words.
"Friends with Parkinson? Don't be ridiculous, as if someone like me would be friends with her," Draco scoffed, looking at her before he sighed. "Pansy is an idiot, short-sighted and stupid; don't take anything she says seriously. She's just jealous that she's being outdone by someone who only learnt about magic this year."
"So why do you put up with her?" Hermione asked, watching him smirk.
"Because it's better to keep her with us so we can keep an eye on her rather than let her run loose and cause trouble for everyone. She'd do far worse than a few words if we didn't have her on a leash," Draco said smugly. "Ignore her, Harry is probably ripping her a new asshole as we speak. She tried to pull the 'I'm pureblood, so I'm better than you' thing with him, and it didn't go great."
Hermione went silent for a moment, seeing a glimpse of how things worked in Slytherin. It made her glad that she wasn't that ambitious because it sounded like hell.
"Do you believe in that stuff?" Hermione asked bluntly, making him smirk.
"Of course, it's families like mine and Harry's that made the Wizarding World great. Harry might be a half-blood, but he's the heir of two of the oldest and most respected families in England," Draco admitted shamelessly.
"So why don't you mind me being here?" Hermione pressed, seeing his smirk grow.
"Harry invited you. I'm not so crass as to insult a guest, plus I don't have to like you to see that you are a passable study partner," Draco admitted. "Just because you're a muggleborn doesn't mean I can't tell that you're very intelligent. If you were a moron, I wouldn't want you around even if Harry likes you for some reason, but we don't have to be friends to work together."
So, acquaintances who shared a mutual friend? She could work with that. Having Harry come to her defence made her realise that she had a friend, an unfortunately new experience for her.
"...can I ask one last thing?" Hermione asked, making Draco sigh and turn to her impatiently.
"I suppose I can permit that," Draco said with a superior look that just made him look constipated.
"What hair product do you use?" Hermione asked hesitatingly, making him blink before he glanced up at her hair. "Your hair always seems so perfect, and no muggle product has ever really managed to do anything about my hair…" Hermione admitted with some embarrassment.
"Hm, at least you can recognise that much," Draco preened, running a hand through his hair. "And frankly, you need the help. Harry is a lost cause, but maybe you can do something with yours."
She liked Harry's messy hair, but she didn't point that out as Draco began to lecture her on haircare spells and potions, a subject he was clearly an expert in. She was getting the hang of dealing with Draco because the smug boy was very clearly weak to flattery.
– Harry Potter –
"F-fuck, fuck you, please let me cum," Pansy begs, making me smirk as I add another finger and speed up.
Something deep in me hated that word, Mudblood, and something else in me loved seeing a pureblood heiress degraded like this. Voldemort was a half-blood, and he found the sight of purebloods grovelling before him entirely too fitting.
Pansy grasps my wrist with both hands, gasping and panting with pleasure as she pushes her face into my shoulder, muffling her lewd noises as she climaxes from my skilled touch. I'm trying not to think about why I'm so good at this because I don't know what would be worse, getting this skill from Voldemort or getting it from my mother.
"I fucking hate you," Pansy spits as she comes down from her climax, panting and coated in a thin sheen of sweat as I smirk at her, the feeling of power satisfying some primal need I didn't know I had.
"Am I supposed to care?" I retort, fixing my clothes and wiping my hand clean. "I don't like you, you don't like me, but you need me, and I find you mildly useful. As long as you don't become so annoying that you're not worth putting up with, our little deal can continue."
"Ugh, whatever. Pass me my clothes and wand if you're through gawking at me," Pansy sighs, but I just chuckle.
"Your robe is right there, but I think I'll keep the rest for now," I say, watching her eyes widen, and a furious look cross her face before she lets out a loud sigh and grabs her robe.
"You're a fucking pervert, you know that?" Pansy says, pulling her long black robe back on. It covers everything, but the fact that she's naked under it is obviously embarrassing for her. Not to mention, she still has cum on her tits. "My wand, please."
I'm almost impressed that she made 'please' sound so much like 'die in a fire', but I hand over her wand as I shrink her clothes and pocket her entire outfit, leaving her in just a robe as she cleans herself up as best she can.
Whatever I did last time, the mental bond I made between Pansy and me is still there. As much as she wants an in with Draco, I don't think she'd have remained so obedient with how far I've pushed her today.
"Apologise to Hermione; I don't care if you don't mean it. I won't have you fucking up what Draco and I planned for Hermione because you can't shut your mouth for five minutes," I order, putting pressure through the link as she scowls.
"Whatever, try not to jerk off into my panties tonight, asshole," Pansy spits back, making me smirk.
"Ah, Pansy, why would I jerk off when your room is so close? I can just pay you a visit and have my dear friend help me out, can't I?" I point out, watching her freeze before she scoffs and reaches for the door. "Wait, someone is there. Give it thirty seconds."
Pansy hesitates, but she does listen to me, not wanting to get caught coming out of a broom closet with me, waiting for me to nod before we slip out. Pansy doesn't look great, but with a bit of hope, people will assume she's been crying and not having gotten face-fucked.
She did a decent job of fixing herself back up, anyway.
Returning to the library, Draco gives me a knowing look and rolls his eyes as Pansy gives a very shitty attempt at an apology which Hermione responds with a better job of saying, 'Thanks for the apology, but also fuck you'.
It's safe to say these two won't be friends anytime soon, but Hermione seems oddly smug about something, and Draco just gives me a shrug when I look his way. Pansy doesn't exactly stop being a bitch, but she seems to have realised that she needs to keep her mouth shut as we continue our study session, with some gossip over what happened to Quirrell.
It's all the school is currently talking about, after all. Hermione is a good source of gossip, surprisingly, because she shares a dorm room with Lavender Brown and Parvati, who are massive gossips but the general feeling is that nobody really knows what happened or who did it.
I did learn that Quirrell's own turban was transfigured into a silky noose, which he was finally hanged with, and that's what actually killed him in the end, so that's… nice.
As the session comes to an end, with several of our pieces of assigned homework completed with very good grades if I'm not mistaken, Hermione stops me as we're about to head for dinner.
"Erm, I just wanted to thank you for inviting me… and for standing up for me. I don't know what you said to Pansy. You two were gone for a long time after all, but I appreciate you stopping her from insulting me," Hermione says, brushing a strand of her curly hair behind her ear as I give her a lazy smile.
"Pansy just needed a reminder that my mother was a 'mudblood' as well. Besides, I invited you to join us; it'd be pathetic of me to sit there and let you be insulted," I say with a grin.
"Do you get a lot of… that in Slytherin?" Hermione asks, a frown on her face.
"Eh, a little. Teenagers are always going to be dicks, and they don't have much else to target me over. It's jealousy; I'm richer, more famous and from a better lineage than them, if you care about that shit," I laugh. "And you're smarter and cuter than Pansy, so she targeted you for your blood because you beat her in every other way," I point out, making her blush deepen. "Never let them see that they get to you, Hermione. A lot of our classmates are assholes, and they'll smell blood if you let them see they hurt you. Ignore them because you are better than them, and the fact is, deep down, most of them know it."
"Easier said than done," Hermione says after a moment, giving me a self-deprecating look.
"Well, if it gets too much, you know where to find me," I reply with a smile. "If you're too nice to fight back, then I don't mind doing the fighting for you. Honestly, I kinda enjoy it."
Hermione laughs slightly at that, giving me a small smile.
"I'll keep that in mind, Harry," Hermione promises, pausing before she leans up and places a light kiss on my cheek, her face burning as she waves goodbye and flees the library.
The scheming part of me points out that this is still fairly public, and now word will reach Gryffindor that I defended a muggleborn despite being a Slytherin, but honestly, Hermione is a sweet girl, and she doesn't deserve to have to put up with idiots like Pansy Parkinson.
Rubbing my forehead, I will the headache to take the hint and fuck off already. The potion definitely helped take it from an eight to a three, but it's still a small, throbbing pain, and I can't deny that I'm nervous that it's a sign of something worse, given my current fucked situation. It seems to be slowly fading, which is a good sign.
Hopefully, some food will help. The meal is slightly ruined by Dumbledore giving a speech about Quirrell's death, telling us that a large Auror presence will remain in the school to ensure we are all safe and promising that the criminal will be punished for their crimes.
A part of me wants to tell him, but both presences in the back of my head warn me against it, and while I can't say I'm surprised that Voldemort is scared of Dumbledore, the feminine presence that I'm sure is some echo of my own mother cautions me against telling him anything.
Still, this is my body, and I make the decisions here. For now, at least.
This all started with that book, and it's too late to back down now. I need answers, and that book has them.
— Bonus Scene — Lily Potter?
She'd fucked up.
Nestled inside Harry's soul, she frowned to herself. She hadn't expected the other piece of Voldemort to be sticking out of the back of Quirrell's head, and she'd lost control of the pieces of Voldemort that she had consumed from both Harry's scar and the Diadem. Voldemort could not tolerate himself; she hated Voldemort; they both had a mutual goal of killing the spirit-Voldemort and absorbing him into them, so she'd lost control.
Three pieces of Voldemort's shredded soul had been recovered, but she had a better idea of how to deal with them now. But while she could lessen the influence they had on her, she couldn't remove it entirely. She was effectively eating his soul, taking his memories and powers into her very being, after all.
Harry thought he had two beings inside him, but he didn't. It was just her now, but she had Voldemort inside her like some cursed matryoshka doll of souls. She wasn't going to let that slime affect her Harry, even if it meant taking his soul into herself.
In truth, she knew that she was not Lily Potter. Lily Potter had died protecting her son, but fate was a funny thing. Her life as an unspeakable had given Lily a lot of chances to study magic that most wouldn't even know existed. Lily had explored hundreds of magical anomalies, and in one of them, she found a book.
At the same time, she was told a prophecy that her son would be targeted by a dark lord so powerful that people feared to even say his name. It had made her desperate, desperate enough to steal several artefacts from her work to try and find something to tip the odds in her favour.
It was that desperation that had led her to keep studying a book that was presumed to be connected to the fall of a (small) civilisation, seeking secrets that would help her keep Harry safe from the dark lord. Lily Potter put so much of herself into the book, both intentionally and otherwise.
And she was the result, a shade of Lily intermingled with a presence that had been inside the book long before Lily ever found it. Still, whether she was Lily or not, there was one thing for certain.
She wasn't going to let anything happen to her Harry.
Author's Note: As I said in the latest Sorcerer's Legacy, Pansy exists to be bullied.
Written: 03/09/2024
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The Advance Chapters
Diamond: The Operative Ch07, The Warlock Ch07, The Craftsman Ch05, The Necromancer Ch07
Plat: The Celestial Remnant Ch10, The Supervillain Ch29, The High Roller Ch07
Gold: The Celestial Remnant Ch09, The Celestial Professor Ch04
Basic: The Gambler Ch14
Quest: The Celestial Inquisitor Ch01-05
Links:
Patreo n. com (slash) TheDarkWolfShiro
Subscribe star. com (slash) the-dark-wolf-shiro
I have a Discord server with a bunch of other authors and a load of porn. So much porn.
Here's the link for that: discord .gg/DarkWolfShiro
If it says it's expired, it is probably your account being unable to join NSFW servers, and you'll need to fix that. If you fix that and it still says it's expired, add me (DarkWolfShiro), and I'll invite you myself.