Broken Strings: A Harry Potter Fanfiction
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters; all copyright belongs to JK Rowling; I do own any OC spells explained at the end of a chapter;
Plot: Abandoned by more than just the wizarding world, Harry chooses to embrace a side of him that he never knew existed with a guardian he never expected. However, as he learns more about his power, he finds himself wanting protections, comfort and companionship…from a certain grey-eyed Slytherin.
Author's Note: I don't actually know where this story came from, to be honest: however, I chose to give it a go as I have never really explored this type of pairing in my stories and, well, when it comes to reading about it, there's only one favourite for me. So, think of this as a…project, if you want to, but for me, it's a challenge.
Dedication: I would like to dedicate this story to StormyFireDragon as it is his works that prove to me that such writings don't always have to be graphic; I don't have a specific story to recommend, so I'll just say this: go and read them all.
Harry/Draco
Other Pairings TBC…
Normal Speech
'Thought'
'Mind Link'
/Parseltongue/
Prologue: A Dark Revelation
After spending his life with people like the Dursleys, someone would almost think that Harry was used to being alone in the world; however, after fifteen years of it and then for the rest of his true home's people to abandon him, Harry had believed that he had people he could trust. People he could rely on to stand strong and true at his side, but, as was the case, Harry was once again proven wrong.
Sat alone on his bed in Gryffindor Tower, his knees hugging his chest, Harry tried not to show tears as memories haunted him: it was bad enough that his year had been plagued by nightmares about Voldemort while his waking hours were possessed by that sick bitch, Dolores Umbridge. However, on top of all that, Harry had never expected a revelation to be shown to him like the one he'd encountered a short time before his isolation in the Tower.
The worst part about it: the revelation came from two that Harry had always believed would be there for him throughout everything…
Flashback Start
It had happened as Harry had been leaving the class of his most hated Professor, Severus Snape: he'd gone up towards the Great Hall in the hopes of getting a bite to eat before the glares, whispers and taunts had started. However, as he walked past the door that led towards the hall, Harry had heard a sharp hissing sound: the sound of someone being told to remain quiet.
Moving along the corridor, Harry found what looked to be a broom cupboard and, from the other side, he heard a voice complain, "But Hermione, even you must know that enough's enough; when he's not screaming in his sleep, he's getting Gryffindor into trouble with that Umbridge woman. He gets himself removed from the team and, because of that, it's like we've become Public Enemies numbers one, two and three."
"I understand that you're upset, Ronald," Hermione's voice answered, Harry freezing in position as he heard them: it didn't take a genius to figure out that they were talking about him. "But Harry…well, he needs us; because the Order's away from the school, he needs us to make sure he keeps his head down."
"And does that involve having prestige taken from us?" asked Ron, Harry's hand now moving to the scars on the back of his right hand as he heard them, "I mean, we're meant to be Prefects and yet we're looked upon as though we're filth: and why? Because we support Harry and his war-mongering, trouble causing ways. Even you have to admit it, Hermione: something needs to change before we become lower than the low around here: I'm on the team and nobody seems to care; you've heard their taunts?"
There was a sigh, before Hermione told Ron, "I…I guess you're right; I mean…I don't like it, but Harry's nightmares are…well, they're not our problem and I guess, in a way, I am sad that our own House hates us because…because of him. But what can we do? You heard Professor Dumbledore; we have to keep an eye on him and then next summer, we get inducted into the Order: that was the reason he offered you the badge in the first place: to keep tabs on Harry's rule-breaking and…"
Harry couldn't hear any more: he turned and ran straight for the tower, his heart breaking inside;
He had officially lost the ties to his friends…
Flashback End
'Prestige?' Harry thought, bringing his knees closer to his chest as he sat there, 'Is that all I was to them? To the Order? And how can they blame me for the things the House are saying? It's not my fault that Dumbledore's the one making things worse around here. And now…now they blame me for it: they stand by me because…because they're being rewarded for it?'
He shook his head as he let his forehead rest against his knees, his eyes holding back tears as he felt his heart grow cold: his best friends, the people that had always been there through thick and thin: now they were turning their backs on him.
He really was alone in the world: Dumbledore wasn't listening to him; Sirius was so far away because of his house arrest, the school chose to treat him like an outcast and now…and now his own best friends betray his trust, his confidence…and for what?
A stupid badge?
A place among the Order?
'Well Dad,' Harry thought, directing his thoughts to whatever spirits operated the ether, 'It looks like we do have more in common than our looks: we were both betrayed by friends…and now…I'm alone.'
The door to the dormitory opened, cutting off Harry's train of thought and, as he looked up, his blood boiled as he saw said traitor walking through the door, a look of disgust crossing Ron's face before it was hidden behind a fake smile as he asked, "Harry, what are you doing up here, mate? Aren't you hungry or what?"
"Not really, Ron," Harry sighed, scratching slightly at the words on the back of his hand as he added, "Besides, I can't really stomach anything knowing I have another detention with Umbridge coming up."
"Yeah," Ron sighed, adopting an almost pitying expression as he told Harry, "Shame about you being cut from the team: still, at least she hasn't expelled you or anything, right?"
Harry had a distinct impression that the word yet was meant to be added there, but he said nothing; instead, he shrugged before he asked, "So, what are you doing here?"
"Hermione noticed you weren't there," Ron explained, "She wanted me to find you and, well, the Tower was the first place I could think of: now I see you're okay, I guess I can go, all right?"
"Yeah," Harry nodded, looking to the side of his bed where Hermione had left a vial of Murtlap Essence to treat his wound; with a hardened glare, he added, "Thank Hermione for thinking ahead, would you…"
But, by the time he'd turned back to address his so-called friend, Ron was gone and Harry, leaning back on his bed, could only stare at the ceiling, his eyes growing heavy all of a sudden as though his pain, anxiety and isolation had drained his energy.
As sleep seemed to claim him, he reasoned to himself, 'I'm alone again in the world…and there's nothing I can do about…it…'
BrokenStrings
Because he'd fallen asleep, Harry was a minute late to Umbridge's detention and, for that, she didn't just have him carve his hand open with the words I must not tell lies, but she also had him write: I must be on time to my punishments.
As he wrote both sentences, Umbridge actually having the sick-minded will to force him to write the second statement into his left hand so he'd never forget either warning, Harry winced and, trying as hard as he could to concentrate, instead found himself becoming hollow inside. What was the point in continuing like this?
She'd only find some other reason to treat him like a human pincushion and carve new warnings into him until they covered him like a full-bodied tattoo; besides, Harry had learned that he couldn't tell lies, but the idiots at the Ministry let Fudge and this toad walk over them and convince them that Harry was lying. With another carving sentence being added to the pain on his wrist, Harry's thoughts wandered to what he'd said earlier, 'I'm alone in the world…on my own; nothing I can do about that. I mean, who gives a shit if I live or if I died tomorrow?'
Then, as his thoughts ran through his mind, Harry was stunned when, all of a sudden, the pain on both of his hands began to recede; glancing to the marks on his hands, Harry was stunned to see a light, but very real, film made from green and gold sparks trail around the outline of his scars, the magic of these sparks nullifying the pain from his wounds. At the same time, Harry watched in awe as the words that he was writing began to replicate themselves time and time again until seven sheets were filled with each sentence.
With a gulp, Harry muttered, "Erm…pardon me, Professor Umbridge…but…I'm done."
The pink-dressed professor looked up and seemed both reviled and sickened to see the pages filled with Harry's writing: however, when she checked the wounds on his hands, she went from sickened to satisfied before she told him, "I daresay you have gotten the message, Mr Potter: now, can you tell me what you will not do from this day?"
"I must not…sorry: make that…I will not tell lies," Harry told her, his voice surprising himself as it made him sound like he'd been defeated, "I promise you, Professor Umbridge; I will never again tell lies."
"Good boy," Umbridge told him, taking the pages and, stacking them together, she told Harry, "You may go, Mr Potter: given your promise, I will be very disappointed if I find you here again: good night."
"Good night, Professor Umbridge," Harry replied, giving her a curt nod of his head before he turned on his heel and left the office, the loud chimes of the Hogwarts clock telling Harry that it was close to eleven o clock at night.
BrokenStrings
Alone in his bed, his curtains closed tight around him, the essence rubbed into the scars, Harry looked again at his hands before he finally asked, "How…how did I do that?"
'Harry…'
The voice was so soft and sibilant that, for a second, Harry thought it to be nothing more than a whisper on the breeze; however, as he glanced around, Harry saw nobody there and the other boys of Gryffindor were asleep. Shaking it off, he laughed to himself, "Just imagining things…anyway, I…I couldn't have…have done…" he gave another yawn before he lay his head on the pillow.
'Harry…'
There was no way that he'd imagined that: sitting bolt upright, Harry grabbed his wand and, ever so slowly, he moved his curtains aside, before clambering out of bed and, leaving the dorm, he made his way down to the Common Room, his eyes looking everywhere as he whispered, "Who…who's there?"
'Can't you guess?' asked the sibilant voice, Harry now shuddering as he found the Common Room to be empty, but there was no way that he'd imagined the voice: it…it was impossible. 'Come on Harry,' the voice continued, 'Use your head: you know who I am, but will you say it?'
Suddenly, Harry had an icy jolt of realisation: the sibilant tone of the voice; its almost hissing tongue and the way that it seemed to mock him and make his skin crawl. Only one person in the entire world could do that: taking a seat close to the fire, Harry glanced around to make sure that no-one was playing tricks before, staring into the near-empty grate, he whispered, "It's…it's you…isn't it?"
'Yes Harry,' the cold voice replied, though Harry thought he heard a tone of almost relief fill the voice, 'You know who I am: say my name; go on, you'll feel better.'
Harry took a deep breath, then he whispered, "Voldemort…"
'Yes,' the voice of the Dark Lord replied, his tone as icy and as dark as ever before, 'Hello Harry; it's nice to hear from you again: tell me, did you like my little assist?'
Remembering the sparks and the way that his words had been repeated over seven pages of parchment, Harry gulped before he asked, "That…that was you? How? Or I guess the more important question is…why?"
'It was me,' Voldemort told him, 'But more to the point, Harry, it was also you: it was your power that replicated those words and your intentions that nullified that dreadful pain. I simply…opened the door, you could say: as for why? You wouldn't believe me if I told you.'
"Try me," Harry whispered, shuddering at the sound of Voldemort's voice: it wasn't mocking or taunting; in fact, it was as though Harry was in a conversation with a teacher…and that frightened him.
'Very well,' Voldemort explained, 'I did it, Harry Potter, because I wish to help you…to set you free of those dark thoughts that plague you. There is a debt, Harry Potter, and I wish to repay it any way I can.'
Voldemort was right: Harry didn't believe it…
And there it is: Chapter 1 of my project story and I know, I can't believe it either: Voldemort wants to help Harry and repay a debt: what debt and how does he repay it?
Also, what will Harry do when he reveals his knowledge of his friends' betrayals?
Keep Reading to Find Out…
Next Chapter: A meeting that Harry would never have attended even if he was paid to; a few surprises and information that shows Harry that he was always alone: plus, it seems Voldemort is deadly serious about repaying the debt, but can Harry trust his long-time enemy?
Please Read and Review…
AN: I should point out that this story is NOT based on the relationship, though the pairing IS what I said it will be; it may not come around for a few chapters, but it will be there. Also, Harry is Dark in this, but it's more the dark that's against Dumbledore while being independent of himself: by that, I mean he won't be fully dark, more like the darker shade of grey…