The Darkening of Your Soul

Chapter 17

That night, Harry slept deeply and had the most amazing dream. He was cocooned inside a warm, strong body but he wasn’t alone. Together they slid inside a hot bath, steam rising around them while the scent of lemon and cedar invaded their senses. They sipped a glass of whiskey and it warmed their mouth and burned their throat and the smoky aftertaste tickled their nose. And Harry couldn’t remember ever feeling as whole or as complete before. It was as if he’d been missing half of himself but hadn’t realized it until he joined with this missing part and finally knew what it was like to be one again.

“Harry, is that you?” The voice was soft and deep and Harry wanted to curl around it. “Are you dreaming, my dear? Then perhaps we’ll dream together.” They slid inside a large bed with thick blankets while a fire burned in the fireplace, and soon they were gliding through different scenes together, some familiar to Harry and some utterly foreign but it was all peaceful because he knew he wasn’t alone.

When he woke in the morning, Harry felt a pang in his chest at the loss of that warm, safe feeling of completeness. He was suddenly utterly alone and aware of it. That was until his senses returned and he realized he must have shared his mind, his soul with Voldemort last night.

No, not Voldemort anymore, Harry reminded himself. Voldemort was dead and gone and not ever coming back.

It was just Tom now. Thomas Gaunt.

Nevertheless, Harry was sure as he woke up completely that he’d connected with Tom while he slept. And it had been the most amazing thing Harry had ever felt. So amazing, even, that Harry was a little embarrassed to bring it up later that night during one of their mirror chats. But he would, embarrassed or not. It was important to understand their connection, especially now that it had returned so unexpectedly.

Ever since Harry found himself back in his eleven-year-old body his scar hadn’t given so much as a peep. No pain, no tingles, no visions of any sort. Nothing. And then Tom got his body back and his complete soul found a permanent home again and suddenly their connection came back with a vengeance.

Then again, when Harry thought back to his first life, his scar hadn’t bothered him all that much either until Voldemort got his body back in his fourth year. Sporadically he’d had short bouts of pain when Voldemort’s wraith was nearby or feeling particularly murderous. When Voldemort had inhabited a homunculus the visions in his sleep had started, but still only on just a few rare occasions. And then Voldemort was resurrected and the headaches and mind melting had really began.

It seemed that the second time around something similar was happening, except their feelings for each other weren’t murderous. Quite the contrary, so their connection was now giving pleasure instead of pain.

And yep, Harry was definitely a little embarrassed about this new phenomenon if the blush he felt heating his cheeks was any indication. He still needed to discuss it with Tom that evening, since a connection that just opened up out of the blue, no matter how pleasurable, could be terribly disruptive, not to mention give the game away. Harry wanted to cause Dumbledore a lot of doubt about his shared soul with Voldemort, starting with utterly denying he’d ever felt the man through his scar. And he planned to keep that up no matter what, but that meant he needed to control their connection or else he might just give himself away.

“Morning,” Blaise said when Harry opened his curtains and hopped out of bed. Blaise was just changing out of his pyjamas. “You got in late last night. I’m sure Snape was in here looking for you at some point.