For all those waiting on a new chapter, here is a quick preview of what i have so far for the story. Its not beta-ed and may change drastically before being completed.

---



Do you know what the problem with power is? Not might or strength, but in leadership; control? It is as infinitely limited as it is limitless. You sit in your castle upon your throne looking down on everyone and spit out commands like breath. But in truth, it’s your subjects and followers who control everything and you have nothing. Without them, you are little more than an egotistical, narcissistic fool with delusions of grandeur. It is the same in every government or position of power. The chosen leader has his say in things but truly it is his subordinates who control it all, do it all. Idly I wonder if Riddle has figured this out yet. An unlikely conclusion given that he still sits upon a throne built by the blood of fools, Death Eaters, and mudbloods.

It’s this reasoning that led me to my decision for my future. I will become neither Minister for Magic nor Dark Lord. I thought over it for a good deal of time, and for all the distaste I’ve gained for him, Dumbledore has the right idea; or so I think. He has the means to control every mind of importance in the wizarding world.

But whatever I plan to do, I must first be rid of this blithering, idiotic, pure-hearted fool whose mind I must share. But it isn’t all negatives and falloffs with him. He has provided me with much entertainment so far. I shall take an incident from several days ago as an example. Marietta approached Him this day. It was, it seems, the first time I’ve truly laughed in ages. While she will obey out of fear, she isn’t nearly as broken as Greengrass is; or pretends to be. And poor little Fool, I almost felt sorry for him, almost. Marietta had a… itch, and having no idea about Him or I, came to me to scratch it. It was quite a shock for the Him to have her begging for it like that when he couldn’t get any on his own merits. But it was most amusing to see the confusion on Mari. To have Him, Me, reject her after the past several months must have been terrifying to her twisting mind. Blah, the pathetic twit, he really needs to get laid. It does a man wonders, that.

But as amusing as he can be at times, it does little to make up for this. To have to listen to him stutter and stammer uselessly with no confidence at all as he explains or answers Horace’s (Professor Slughorn’s, he insists) questions. Over the passing weeks we had been to these lessons many times. According to Horace, we are nearly ready to move on to the meat and potatoes of Occlumency. From basic to advanced. This worthless art is such a waste of time.

“The mental walls and images,” Horace explains, “serve a similar purpose to that of a wand. They are a focus point. Outside of that, they are completely and utterly useless.” I nearly snort. Those are my thoughts, exactly. Occlumency is useless.

“There is no such thing as an Occlumency shield; or any other such nonsense. There is only Will. The images you create serve as a focus for your will and through them alert you to intruders. Understand?”

“…Sort of,” He responds. Twit. “So what you’re saying is that, basically, it all comes down to who wants what more?”

“Something on that order, yes,” Horace muses. “But it’s far more complex.” The large professor pauses, thinking a moment. “It’s a lot more than just ‘I wish you out of my mind’. It is more using your will in combination with your magic and using it as a sort of giant bat. There is no thought or intention to it; only a great shoving force.”

He is silent, wondering away after Horace’s explanation. “Is it necessary to clear your mind and focus on simply forcing them out?”

“In the beginning, it may be easier for you to do so to accomplish anything if you do.” Horace begins rubbing his hands together as he questions himself mentally. I’ve always hated when he does that. “As with anything, though, the more advanced you become the more you can do it as habit rather than conscious thought. You’ll become faster and faster and will eventually lose the need to clear your thoughts.”

His hands twitch as he smoothes our robes. A sense of dread fills me. He is going to ask something amazingly stupid. “I found some of the readings mention emotions but don’t really go into detail about them.” He licks our lips nervously. The snivelling spawn of a flubberworm. “Is it possible to… control… emotions through Occlumency?”

Horace looks generally impressed with the question. I doubt many people ever wonder this far into the possibilities of it. Then again most people would realize what a worthless waste of time Occlumency is. “Not control per se. You’d be able to hide them better, certainly. With Legilimency, you could craft false emotions and memories as well. But the out and out answer is no, you can’t control them.”

“Oh,” my, my, Mr. Potter, you DO have a way with words!

By the time we leave our lessons, His mind hurts and thus my mind hurts. You untalented buffoon, can’t you master the simplest of things without my assistance? A spike of irritation flows through Him and I stop entirely for a moment. It is rare that I affect him so. I enjoy it when I can.

“You know,” I say in the general direction of what would be Him. “My life would be so much easier without you. Yours would be much better as well!” I muse. “Maybe you should consider giving me complete control for a few years. Maybe we wouldn't be such a laughing stock then!” No response or reaction. Pity.

---

“Christmas break starts in three days, you know.” Katie mused. I expected she was musing anyway. She has that look that women seem to have when they muse. Or perhaps she is just plotting some nefarious way of killing me.

“Hmm,” I’ve got no real response to that so I settle for a hum.

“Are you staying here for the hols?” I nod. “Why? Don’t you want to go and visit your family?” I repress a shudder. No, I don’t. I shrug. She hums quietly to herself. It doesn’t sound a happy hum, more annoyed. “My parents would love to meet you, you know. Why not come home with me?”

I look up at her quickly. Ouch. I think I sprained something. Yep. She was plotting my death. “..Err... I really don’t think… you know… we’ve been together long enough for that…” I trail off, my quiet voice sounding truly pathetic.

“I know,” She responds a bit too brightly. “I was just wondering if you were actually paying attention to me.”

I wasn’t really, but I can’t rightly tell her that. Lately I’ve had difficulty paying attention to anyone. Ever since my lessons last night, or the walk back to the Tower, really. It had startled me. I had always known that He existed. It’s like that dog on the corner that your friends say eats children. You know there is a dog but you’ve never seen it. Then one day you pass by as it’s eating a huge slab of meat. You know its not kiddie meat, but you are in fact a child and thus you believe them despite what you know. You never go by that house again.

He is like that. He is the dog and makes me feel like a child again. I hate that. I had never had proof of his existence until this year began. When he began taking control at times. It started off as only Marietta acting strangely around myself and others. Then it was the odd shaped scratches I hadn’t had when I fell asleep. The voices could always be passed off as my going slowly insane. People hear voices all the time, you know? Telling them to kill their lovers or parents. Telling them to defecate in public places. I'm sure someone out there has voices telling them defile people in the most humiliating and disgusting of ways. Statistics say it has to happen sometime, after all. At first I only heard small pieces of it, and felt more than heard some of his thoughts. But in the past year or so He has gained more substance. I hear Him and feel his thoughts and desires much more clearly now. He isn’t an intangible nightmare anymore. He's now a living part of me. It is soundly terrifying to realize.

“I… am,” I reply unenthusiastically. “Really, I am.” She doesn’t believe me. I see it. Not that I blame her. I don’t believe me either. “Or, I am trying to. I just… really don’t feel too hot.”

Her eyes soften a hair and fill with concern. “Wanna talk about it?”

I fight the snort that approaches. Sure, Katie! I’ve got an evil second personality that romps around sometimes! A rampaging evil menace, He is. What do you make of it? Wanna snog? “Not really.” I let my head fall to the table in front of us and it rings with a loud thump.

“...Ok,” she looks stumped for a moment. Can’t say I blame her for that either. I am entirely too difficult. “Wanna go up to the fourth floor and snog? I found this nifty little out of the way spot.”

I don’t manage to contain the snort this time, “Tempting, but no.” She looks blankly at me a moment. “I’m…” I’m what? A freak? Tired? Psychotic? “I’m just tired, I think. Taking on too much work and all that. I think I’m just gonna go up and have a nap.” She doesn’t resist the light kiss I press into her cheek as I head to my bed.

---

The bright gold and red of my bed aren't nearly as inviting as I expected them to be. Setting the thin silver frames on the nightstand, I kick off my shoes and flop onto the bed. My eyes drift closed much sooner than I expected they would. It is both a comfort and a concern. Restful sleep is something I haven't been blessed with lately. Nightmares from Voldemort's past attempts at entering my mind remain long after he has ceased his attempts. If not the nightmares that plague me, it is Him. And there are the energy supplement potions, too. I take them and promise myself the rest later, but later drifts farther and farther away. That’s why I've not taken them lately. I think this is the reason for my sluggishness and for blowing Katie off earlier. I believe I may be developing the beginning of an addiction to them. If so, withdrawal is a bitch. But now is later, I promise myself. I will rest now and recuperate. He will simply have to settle for his prison for longer than he may like.

Another thought that scares me: He prowls more often now. I suspect it is due to my weakened mind. Perhaps that’s why he has allowed us to develop so far into addiction? He prowls more often, though lately he hasn't sought out new toys. He has only enjoyed his current. While Marietta seems to bore him, Daphne pleases him infinitely. He likes toying with her mind. He treats her fairly one night, whispering kindly to her; and the next he shouts, reinforces her belief that she is worthless. Daphne searches for with in obedience MEwhile Marietta is little more than a frightened rabbit.

Toys. When had I sunken to his level of depravity? When did I begin to think of them as toys rather than Daphne and Marietta? It frightens me to see, when I ponder, how often I become like him without noticing. Him. He. That is all I address him as. I've never really thought of giving him a second name. It is probably my childish desire to believe he doesn’t really exist. That he is just a figment of my imagination. But you can't really expect me to have made a mature decision regarding him, really. I was only a child, no older than ten when he first manifested himself in my mind.

It was an odd experience for me. Jordan Fondar, a dull slow witted girl within my year, had decided she was bored during an afternoon recess. It was not the first time she had bullied me, but it was the first time she had outright insulted my mother and father. It had infuriated me beyond belief. I had heard his voice, my voice in my head. Hurt her. Make her sorry she said those horrid things. It was me but at the same time, it wasn't. His voice, angry as it was, was smooth and calm. It had confidence whereas I, then, lacked it. Though as ignorant to the ways of the world as I, he feigned knowledge. Weakness was an abhorrent disease to him, and to display it was as unforgiveable as murder.

So angry with Fondar I had been that I never questioned the voice. When she shoved me once more, spiting her foul words, I tumbled to the ground, falling onto a thick but short branch. I quickly drew myself up, newly acquired weapon in hand. Fondar smirked, remarking that I was too cowardly to fight back. So with all my weak ten year old might, I swung. And connected. It was the first time I had seen the blood of another person. The branch didn’t give as I had suspected it would.

Lawn services are rather slack at the school and I had thought the wet wood had sat for days, if not weeks, weakening slowly over time. Apparently it had fallen in the storm three days ago and had retained its vitality. No, rather than it giving, all that gave was flesh. It had only been a small cut but its location led to more blood than most areas. Her brow made no attempt to hide the blood that so freely escaped. She had cried more than I had expected but I felt an odd satisfaction in the back of my mind.

In the end, all I earned was more pain for my effort. I was suspended for three days for the “fight,” which was somehow blamed on me. Vernon wasn't pleased and it showed in that I was only allowed out to eat and bathe. Couldn't let on to our dirty little secret, could we Vernon? While Jordan herself never bothered me again, it wasn’t the end of my torment. Dudley, eager to triumph over someone who had beaten one of the bigger bullies on the playground, no longer hid his bullying me from other kids. Given my current situation, I couldn't rightly defend myself and thus Dudders moved up in the chain of command.

It was only that night, while locked in my closet, that I pondered the voice. It hadn't occurred to me to think of it then. But now that I had nothing but time and I couldn't ignore it anymore. Telling someone was my first thought, but it was quickly dismissed. I had heard Petunia talking about people hearing voices and being bat shit crazy. I hadn't known what that meant but it was obviously bad. Then there was the no freakishness rule. Hearing voices, aside from being bat shit crazy, was most assuredly freaky. So I came to the decision I now live with.

Ignore it. Ignore him. Bullies only want attention, right? So maybe that is all the voice wants. Parents always say ignore bullies and they'll go away. So if I ignore it, will the voice go away too? It was childish, but then I was only a child, so how could I have known better?

---

Six hours have passed since dinner. Six hours since I’ve woken up. The night air is crisp and cool; the floor feels damp beneath my bare feet. For a change it is I who feel sluggish and disoriented instead of He. Dreamless sleep potions do a number on the mind, I say. It’s left me feeling numb and … perhaps the best description is nihilistic. Like I don’t exist and this is all some foolish hallucination. A dry laugh escapes softly at the thought. It amuses me to no end, that. I am just a foolish hallucination, am I not? Isn’t that what voices in the head are?

Perhaps I’m not a voice. Maybe I am an alternate personality. I am an entirely different person trapped in the body of a fool! I give a tired smile. Did you know that once, long ago, wizards believed Multiple Personality Disorder was the result of more than one soul in the body? True, useless trivia, that! They set about remedying it with the dementor’s kiss! No one knew, way back when, that you couldn’t replace the soul later after the decaying floating corpse devoured it. Oh and how we have evolved since then. Still our most feared punishment is necrophilia. Kissing the great floating corpse.

Foul beasts.

A shiver runs down my back as I pass one of the outer walls of the castle. Even with the charms on the school, you can feel the biting cold of the snow outside. To be expected, though, I suppose. No one has bothered to revamp the spells holding the crumbling castle together. If I remember right, there were so many trivial spells in the schools beginning that ‘twas not funny! Spells to keep furniture from gathering dust. Spells to keep children from falling from the Astronomy tower and moving staircases. I don’t doubt there were spells for the … pleasure… of the headmaster as well, as egotistical and lazy as Gryffindor was. But against all logic, something I should have realized many wizards ignore by now, they believe magic is as infinite and endless as eternity itself. I’ve yet to meet a witch or wizard, even Hermione, who has grasped the concept that without aid, the magic in the wards withers and dies with time.

I heave a small tired sigh, turning a random direction to head deeper into the dying structure for warmth.

 

This is basically the same preview that you had ages ago in the works by author section.

With the exception of a few words that changed and the last scene outside of Hogwarts.

It makes me feel like I was conned, since I was all "yay" when I read the first few lines of your post.

But atleast this means that you are working on the story again, right?

 

thisperson:
you're just annoyed because you couldn't rub off that boner you've have since tuesday.

Vash:
Seems to be moving on pretty well. Great stuff. My only criticism is that the alter-egos are too "black and white", too "Lucy and Nyu" if you get my meaning. Perhaps this was the effect you were hoping for, I don't know, but I'd have enjoyed it a bit more if there was a longer and more subtle build up of the "dark Harry" taking control of "light Harry" from the beginning.

Maybe it's too late for that, maybe you can change it, maybe you don't want to change it. That's just my opinion.

 

If I had one since Tuesday I would probably shoot myself.

Vash
Do a scene with Harry/Gryffindor Chasers.

 

That is the effect I was looking for. But eventually, by the end of the story, it'll have Harry as a more subtly dark entity, rather than Black or White.

Hadn't even realized I posted this ages ago. Pity. Oh well. Have to keep the illusion I'm still working though! ^_^

Maybe, but more that likely not.

 

Not really, if I did have a boner that long....well someone said it already.
This isn't one of my favorite stories just for the smut.
I like it because it is the first Harry Potter fanfic story that I read which has an alter ego evil Harry. (probably the only one I have read that uses that idea)

This idea appeals more to me than the other "he's evil" stories.
And finally....it has good smut
But rubbing one off in the living room where anyone can walk in is just wrong....

 

In your earlier chapters i thought it was clear that Harry remembered everything he did while he actually grew a pair of balls. Now your implying he never remembered them. Just confused here. After Mari he felt guilty for what he did and tried to take a shower to remove the guilt or something. So why would he only "suspect" something happened when Marietta was acting differently?

Also he knew what he did to Greengrass to. The scratches just proved it wasn't a dream or something, i think that's what Harry said or though... whatever.

Love the story though and hope you update soon.

 

I just finished it and rather liked it. The smut is good and I really like your Harry. Cold and so full of himself, but if he's going to continue behaving the way he does now, someone will try to teach him a lesson and will break him, 'coz he's rather weak right now.
He may think of himself something but as far as you've said in the story he knows no more than average 6th year student+what he was taught by slughorn.
Please write more about Katie in the next chap. and excuse me for my broken English for I'm still learning it.

 

Minor, unrevised, Grey Lady appearance!

So I am writing more for the next chapter and this is the newest content beyond revising the old. 3,264 words so far.

 

Well, it's nice to see that you're still in business. As a closet reader, I would like to say that I love your fics- while I'm not the biggest fan of the exorbitant smut, I do enjoy the eerie and haunting tones that gild nearly every moment of your writing. So, since I'm not exactly the most active of reviewers, I'd like to clump your works together with a "good job". Now that I've finished sucking up...

Any news on Inremeabilis? Or any of your other stories outside of this one?

 

I'm beatin' him daily with a shillelagh to make him work on Winter's Night, so yeah. >_>;;

 

Vash you have a sick and perverse mind... and it pleases me greatly. Love the sadistic Harry alter-ego, great well written smut and best of all, it has Katie in it.

5/5

 

Fantastic update, even if some of it has been posted here at DLP before. I really liked the tone of this chapter, and how it all fit together. The information about that Alter Ego was quite interesting, and the possibility of H/Padma smut is intriguing. Keep it up!

 

The teasing with the Twin smut was just mean I hope we don't have to wait months to see Harry 'Plowing Padma' as Bid D would say