The Darkening of Your Soul

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Such a vast well of sheer hatred opened up inside of Harry at hearing that name that it literally took his breath away. His throat constricted, his breath shuddered, and the back of his right hand burned with words that hadn’t been carved into his flesh, not this life, but Harry felt them all the same.

“Harry?” Tom sounded miles away and Harry could barely make out his voice through the ringing in his ears. “Harry, tell me what’s wrong, please.”

The mirror in Harry’s hand cracked, a sharp line bisecting Tom’s handsome face.

“Harry, darling, please calm down.” Tom’s eyes were wide, his face pale, but Harry hardly noticed it, so overwhelmed he felt with the hatred coursing through him.

“No,” Harry managed to say, softer almost than a whisper.

“Sweetheart, please, take a deep breath,” Tom pleaded.

Harry tried, he tried so hard to breathe, but all he felt was cold, as though the dozen dementors that dear Dolores had used in her courtroom during her horrifying muggleborn trials were suddenly descending on Harry right there in the Slytherin dormitory.

“Harry, what did that witch do to you?” Tom rambled, voice as close to panicking as Harry had ever heard it. “Lucius said she’s the new Undersecretary to Fudge who recently got elected. I know she was involved at Hogwarts during our previous life and worked at the Ministry afterwards, but that is all I know, I swear it, Harry, darling, please breathe.”

Harry managed a snort and finally, a shallow, wheezing breath. “No,” he repeated, voice a little louder now but still terribly quiet. “Never.”

“That’s fine. It doesn’t matter, she isn’t important, Lucius merely suggested it since she’s openly opposed to Dumbledore.”

“I’d sooner work with Dumbledore than her,” Harry said with absolute conviction, shocking Tom into silence for a few moments.

“Well, that certainly puts things in perspective,” Tom finally managed to say. “I’m sorry I inadvertently upset you this much, my dear. That certainly wasn’t my intention. If you’re willing to share what happened I’m happy to listen.”

Harry considered that while he took another deep breath, this one flowing a little easier now. A very large part of him wanted to simply forget about Umbridge, about her reign of terror during his fifth year, about all the pain she caused him, but Harry knew by now that didn’t help matters. Talking about his traumas was good, even though it seemed a unique kind of torture all on its own, at least at first.

“She taught Defence in our fifth year,” Harry said, gaze fixed on the back of his right hand where the skin was smooth but Harry could feel words engraved nonetheless. “She refused to teach any real magic and had it out for me. She made me use –“ Harry stopped talking, doubt taking over his mind. Why was he making such a big deal about Umbridge’s silly little quill? Much worse things had happened that year than Harry ending up with some hideous new scar; Sirius dying came to mind.

“Sweetheart, please talk. I want to know,” Tom whispered, blue eyes pleading.

“She had it out for me because I kept saying Voldemort was back and the Ministry was firmly in denial. She gave me detention almost every day of the week for months and months and she made me use this black quill while I had to write ‘I must not tell lies’ and the quill used my blood to write it with and carved those words into the back of my hand.” Harry held up his right hand as though that offered some kind of proof, but of course there was no scar there now. “After a while, those words wouldn’t go away and I got a shiny new scar.”