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One Honest Heart	By : Andreas Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 5285 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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29. Transformation

22 December 2001

This room is a marvel. It brought us together and now it supplies us with whatever magic we need in this wretched, dead place. It never occurred to me that the Room would transcend the dimensions in this way, existing in two places (more?) at once. But if it hadn't, we probably wouldn't still be here, even though it's the perfect hiding-place, without the aid of magic or that Muggle elektricitea.

10 June 2002

Room of Requirement still a marvel. Whether it brings the books from the Restricted Section or if it simply conjures them, I don't know. And don't care. They're here and they are magnificent. Such power there is in darkness. Harry would have told me to throw them away, to burn them, to forget I ever read a single word of it. But Harry's not here, not here to light my darkness.

And the flame went out before he

I am lost without him. The bastard!

I must rekindle the flame. The darkness beckons.

Such power.

20 June 2002

Catching a Dementor. Not so hard, if you follow the instructions.

Keeping a Dementor in the same room as yourself. Very depressing.

Not that there's a noticeable difference.

24 June 2002

If Harry were demented, I could cast my Patronus into him and he would live again. Or rather, he would be Harry again, even if he wouldn't be properly alive. He would be Harry. And he could feed off my soul.

He already does, doesn't he?

But he's not demented. He's dead. A slice of my life-force will not work. All of it might.

The Shining King of Dementor lore wasn't one person but two. In the stronger brother's body, the soul of the weaker could continue to exist in this realm, and powered by that soul, the stronger brother's body and mind could keep walking, keep working.

The idiot brother never cast a Patronus. It was an instinctive reaction and he cast forward his whole self, discarding his crippled form completely. And then he resurrected his dead or demented brother (it's hard to tell which) by complete body invasion. Still, it seems to have been a viable arrangement. Tales of the Shining King's wisdom can't be accounted for except by concluding that the brighter brother lived on in symbiosis with the idiot's soul.

It might work. It will work!

We two will be one.

Before my darkness consumes me.

17 July 2002

The potion should prevent the Dementor from dispersing my life-force. The sedative should allow me enough time to complete the transference. There's no way to test it, of course. But what have I got to lose? It might be suicide, but at least I died trying to save Harry. Save the man I murdered.

I believe I wrote that to strengthen my resolve.

It worked.

I never thought I'd kiss something quite so hideous.

[undated entries]

It worked

but it's intolerable. I'm trapped in a library of Harry

but he is long gone

forever gone.

I remember the cupboard, I remember the hatred, I remember the danger, I remember the love, I remember Ron, I'm reading a life, over and over and over again but I'm only reminded of all that I've lost.

All the experiences are here. All the knowledge. But not the love. No emotion. I'm dressed in an empty shell and it is driving me insane. Even more insane.

The Shining King wasn't two men. It was the idiot with the wisdom of the bright.

I am the idiot.

And if I hadn't loved him so much, this body could have sustained me. But all I can feel is the emptiness. All I can see in the mirror is death, death, DEATH.

I must let Harry go. I must let go of this obsession. I cannot stay. I have to go.

And get revenge.

Embrace the darkness because it's all that I have left.

Who am I writing for? Why?

I suffer from a narrative compulsion. A pedantic madness.

Still I wonder: Was his heart dishonest? What is a heart anyway but a machine? Does the soul's darkness taint the machine that purifies the fuel of the body?

I hate it. Honesty plays no part in the life of a heart! You either have a heart or you don't. And if you don't, you should be dead.

My father doesn't deserve a heart. Dishonest hearts should not be. Death is better.

My mind is muddled. I must leave. Must!

His memories drive me to madness!

[random scribbles and blood stains]
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