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Journey to Somewhere	By : Sealpotter Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 7080 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the books/movies and I never have and never will make any money from the writing of this story.

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A/N - Inspired by song: Tears of Pearls by Savage Garden.

Tears of pearls

He prodded the weaknesses of the muggles through Harry. They were as brutal as he believed they would be. So many times Harry had done nothing but what a child would do, and they punished him harshly. Voldemort felt all the pain and anguish Harry felt. Harry wanted to please the muggles, but there was no pleasing them. Harry became withdrawn, and Voldemort would send impressions of hope and strength in Harry’s mind to keep the boy sane. Harry was his only companion for many years. Mixed emotions over who Harry was to him were constantly flowing through his consciousness. It wasn’t until almost 11 years later that Voldemort felt the other part of himself wake and a duality was born.

Voldemort’s other part had latched onto a traveler. The man was going to apply for a teaching position at Hogwarts. He was happy to go along and instruct the man. He needed to find away to become himself again and remove Harry from the hell they boy was living in.

He left Harry’s mind more often in his search for a key to his freedom, but he could not bring himself to fully disconnect. He needed to touch the boy, needed to be near Harry. He had mused over his connection with Harry over the years. They were connected on a soul level that he did not understand. With Quirrell as his new host, he was able to glean more information. He watched Harry through the boy’s first year in Hogwarts. He could not communicate directly with Harry only send impressions. He tried desperately to impress upon Harry that what he was hearing was lies from Hagrid and Albus. They boy’s history was greatly distorted. The idea that those two Potters were the boys parents made him cringe. He needed to find out exactly who really gave birth to the boy.

Harry knew something about his life was not what others believed. There was something deep within him that refused to believe what others told him. He just did not know how to go about learning for himself. He did not understand how he could be famous for something he did as a baby. So many mixed emotions swirled inside him. He felt a deep connection to something he could not put his finger on. The Dark Lord and the way others talked about him left him angry. Not angry about what happened to his parents, but angry at how the others viewed the man. He was confused about that especially. Why should he care about a dark wizard long gone. The man was violent like his Aunt and Uncle. Killing with no conscience. Why was he not angry about that?

This new world of magic was amazing. It explained so much about himself and what he had done as a child. It seemed to open so many new horizons about what he could do and where he could go in his life. The Dursleys had made him feel so small as if he would fall if he so much as left their house. There he was confined, here he felt free. He wanted to explore and find out about himself, but there was this feeling that no one would really tell him the truth. He was a child so he was bound by the whimsy of others. So deep inside he harbored his doubts and anger for not getting the truth he so desired.

At the end of his first year, he wanted to find the stone… When he stood in front of the mirror, the Professor was oddly quiet… he had thought the man would be angry and violent, but he stood quietly waiting. Harry saw who people said his parents were in the mirror as he looked on. They did not look like the loving parents everyone told him he had. The woman looked at him scornfully and the man just had a blank expression. He just wanted truth. And he wanted the stone. The scene changed to show himself putting the stone in his own pocket. He looked down surprised to find it there.

Voldemort watched Harry, he felt sorrow for the boy. Years with the boy exposed him to more emotions than he had experienced in his life before Harry.

“Give me the stone Harry” Voldemort’s voice hissed out.

“Why?” Harry asked.

“I need a body, and I believe that stone will give me one.” Voldemort said.

“Why did you kill my parents?” Harry had to ask… the man was not what he had originally expected, so he thought to push as far as he could.

“They were not your parents Harry. I don’t know who you parents are, but I know it wasn’t them. I should not say more until I have more information.” Voldemort replied.

Harry shifted foot to foot. He reached into his pocket and held the stone. It felt odd in his hands, dead almost.

“I don’t think it is what you are looking for.” Harry sighed as he held it up to both the professor and Voldemort.

Voldemort made the professor turn so he could look into Harry’s eyes. He felt what the boy felt and nodded.

“Touch me… Harry… Release me to find what will.” Voldemort asked gently.

Harry looked at the morphed face and looked down at his hands.
He reached out intent on just pressing a finger to the face of the Dark Lord, but he hesitated. Instead he let his whole palm cup the face. He wasn’t sure why, but as he did so the Dark Lord released a sigh and the Professor and Voldemort vanished in a blinding flash that sent him backwards. He hit his head on the stone steps and passed out.

Voldemort felt his spirit release from Quirrell and told the man to leave. He watched as Harry fell back and tried to help the boy before he fell but could only pass through. He whispered words of comfort before he left quickly searching for something to help him get closer to a body. The boy would need him. He felt it in the touch. There was so much magic bound up in the boy, but it needed release. He would have to probe the boy’s mind to find out how far he could go in gaining what he needed. He did not need to endanger their tenuous relationship by doing something more damning than he had already done.

Harry woke in the infirmary wondering at the mixed emotions he felt after that encounter. He should be upset with Voldemort for killing, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate the man. He was growing more angry the more the headmaster kept from him. The anger burned deep inside far away from the surface. Even his friends did not seem to understand. They believed the older man without question. Harry questioned everything.

He kept everything locked away from the world so not to draw suspicion. He just moved as he was directed, lying in wait for the moment when he could learn some shred of truth.

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Journey to Somewhere