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Forgotten Lullaby	By : Whimsy101 Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 8824 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Harry Potter fandom - those belong to JKR. I make no money or profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Title: Forgotten Lullaby

Author: WhimsicalBalderdash

Beta(s): None

Fandom: Harry Potter

Rating: M

Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle(Lord Voldemort); Severus Snape/Draco Malfoy/Remus Lupin (more to be announced at a later date)

Genre: AU, Romance, Yaoi/Slash

Word Count: 1,129

Warnings: Slash (m/m sex), graphic violence, character death (not HP/TR). Dumbledore, Ron bashing.

Summary: Harry Potter has given up. Beaten to an inch of his life during the summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts, he retreats into his mind in an effort to escape the heavy demands placed on him. There, he finds a refuge in a surprising place. There he receives an offer that he simply can't refuse. But when Dumbledore tells him that this is the dark lord attempting to manipulate and control him, will he ignore the comforting lullaby of the darkness that holds him, or will he delve deeper for the answers he never wanted to face?

Notes: Still unbeta'd so any errors are my own. I'm an affable sort, I'd not take offense if you tell me I misspelled something or the like. Please tell me if you spot something wrong or need more explanations or whatever, I don't mind.

Will be (maybe) two chapters including this one until Tom makes his presence actually known, outside of Harry's head.
Disclaimer: Please see the first chapter…I hate repeating myself.

-(-)-

The next nine days were an exercise in both patience and frustration. The first two days were passed with Harry lying in the bed that Snape had apparently confined Harry to. The room was now referred to as 'his', so he found that rather oddly endearing and confusing at the same time. Since when did Severus Snape give anything to Harry Potter…without a price tag of belittling remarks and disparagement on his character?

Oh Merlin. Now his inner monologue was sounding just like him.

After those two initial days, Harry had decided that he needed to get out of bed. Or rather, he felt the urgent need to get out of bed. While he may have dreamed once upon a time of spending hours and hours lounging in bed rather than getting up and doing chores all day for the Dursleys, it simply felt wrong to be doing so. Whether that was just his nature now, or it had just been beaten into him for so long he didn't know.

All he knew was that laying in bed all day, was bloody boring.

Remus had attempted to assert his will, using his most precious weapon yet in his arsenal in dealing with stubborn Harry. Guilt. When he realized that the effectiveness of his newest and precious weapon wasn't as strong as he would have liked, he'd sighed and helped Harry out of bed to attempt to move about. He reasoned (both with Harry and himself), that Harry had to get used to the idea that he would need help walking for the rest of his life now whether it was a person or a cane.

It was then that Harry realized just what he'd lost. When Snape had said he'd never ride a broom again, he'd thought perhaps they were being melodramatic. And he could admit to himself that he hadn't really cared at the moment about brooms or the like. He'd wanted nothing more than to burrow into his misery and depression and never come out again. Now, however, the impediment of his injured knee was blown up in his face, the magnitude of the disability was apparent when he couldn't walk to the toilet by himself.

Though the presence of Remus was a comfort in its own way, it was also a trying experience. Harry'd never really been mothered before, Mrs. Weasley not-withstanding, so while it was a novel experience it did get old.

Pretty fast.

At least Remus got the hint after the fifth day. Harry had begun sneaking and hobbling off to the bathroom, or sneak down the hall and totter to the library before taking a break there. Then he'd toddle back to his room and pretend he hadn't been moving.

He was certain that Snape knew quite well what he was doing, however the few times that they'd managed to be in the same room for any length of time not involved with trying to make Harry float from so many potions in his system, Harry had noticed the slight light in Snape's eyes. If he wasn't mistaken, there was a bit of impressed pride there, though Harry wasn't about to depend on it. For all he knew, he'd mistaken utter loathing and gleeful maliciousness with impressed pride.

While he was rebelling from guilt enforced bed rest, Harry had spent quite a bit of time in the Library of Spinner's End. Which was rather large, surprisingly. He figured Snape must have expanded the room magically so that it could fit more books than possible in the muggle sized room. He'd gathered random books at first, even going so far as to grab the familiar text books from the previous years of Hogwarts to reread.

Without the pressure of Ron wanting to talk about Hermione, Quidditch, Snape, Slytherins, Quidditch, Malfoy, Voldemort, Quidditch, food, money and Quidditch he got more reading finished. And without the added stress of Hermione wanting to quiz him every other second over what he'd learned to make 'absolutely certain he'd retained the correct information', he was actually able to understand and apply what he'd read to the chapters and books further along.

He'd come to realize, sometime this past year after teaching the D.A., that he just didn't learn like Hermione, and he didn't think like Ron either. He needed to read with little to no distractions, and then try the practical approach. But living in Gryffindor Tower with all its loud disruptions and commotions made that nearly impossible. And he hadn't been able to work during the summer, to discover what way he did study best and apply it.

On the seventh day, it seemed, he realized something that he should have noticed earlier. There were no newspapers, no periodicals, nothing that linked the house with the outside world. He had no idea what was going outside of the walls of Spinners End. And it was frustrating him.

Come to think of it, he'd thought at the time, no owls or messages had arrived here either. Not for Remus and not for Snape.

Which was strange, since he knew that both men were most likely to be contacted by Dumbledore at one point or another over the last two weeks since they arrived at Spinners End. He had no idea if or when Voldemort would be contacting Snape, since he was the one who had agreed to the truce with Harry in the first place. It could be that the Dark Lord was simply waiting for Harry to make the first step.

A first step that would be rather hard in the making.

What really and truly surprised him, was the fact that Voldemort hadn't made any kind of overture to him during the time he'd spent at Spinners End. Though Harry could feel the presence that he attributed to Voldemort in the back of his head - it was a constant source of peace and comfort particularly after a trying nightmare – the presence hadn't demanded a response, or pushed him in a direction that would influence his decisions. There hadn't been any coded messages, letters, visions or dreams that in any way directed him on what his choice should be concerning their truce.

Still, all things considered, the past two weeks had been a nice haven. Peace, quiet, time to recuperate, and he felt rather accomplished over the fact that he'd even managed to learn something.

It was on the ninth day, though, that seemed to snap him out of his comfy little nest of peace and quiet. The day where it seemed everything that could go in one direction, went seemingly in another.

The day that the Dark Lord sent his apparent emissary.

You'd think the Dark Lord would have had better taste in his go between...
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Forgotten Lullaby