Chapter 2: Merge
Footsteps echoed thickly down the corridor. The sound made my heart stop for a few seconds. Quickly shoving everything I could get out of the safe and locking it, I slipped the key back into the drawer and ducked under the desk. At the same moment, two men entered the office. Judging by the legs, they were both men, I couldn't tell more than that. They were talking softly to each other, and I held my breath to listen.
- Hurry up, Johnny, I have to be back here in five hours, and I'd like to get some sleep," the man sounded like he was in his early thirties.
- I'll be right back, I'll be right back," the other man was clearly older than his partner. He was looking for something on the shelves with folders. - Oh, here it is!
- What's so important in this file that we couldn't get it in the morning?
- In the morning he'll be kissed, and at the time of the execution Moody should have the file," said the one called Johnny, instructively.
- Would Moody himself be the chief prosecutor? He must have caught a serious bird.
- Only the Dark Lord and Potter are more serious, but you can't catch one, and the other has long since turned into a vegetable," both men laughed. It's probably not a bad joke, I'm just too dull for it, I thought. By the way, I understood English very well, even though I couldn't understand three words before.
- Come on, let's get out of here. Don't miss the execution, Lucius is only going to be kissed once by a dementor. - And to the accompaniment of their own laughter, they left the office.
- So that means Malfoy Senior has been sentenced to be kissed. Well, that's not exactly canon. Anyway, let's get on with the investigation! - Detective Potter returned to examining the contents of the safe.
I decided to save the wands for dessert. I've always wondered what kind of heat wave runs through my body when I touch the right wood. So I pulled out a stack of newspapers and delved into reading.
So, it's 1995. Hence, my carcass is only fifteen years old. Eh, I look thirty. My headache, which had been there since I woke up, got worse when I saw a headline dated June: "Boy Who Survived Slips Into Darkness!". It was clear from the article on the front page that I had been sentenced to a dementor's kiss for the murder of one Cedric Diggory. I couldn't ignore the pain any longer, so I sat down on the floor, leaned my back against the wall, and closed my eyes. Immediately, millions of memories and feelings flooded over me. There was something of Harry left in this body, a memory and perception of certain things, as well as emotions towards familiar people. The process of Harry Potter's new identity was underway.
Three hours later, I rose to my feet. Although it wasn't me anymore, it was something between me and Harry. It seems that a person's soul is, first and foremost, their mind. Without it, all emotions, feelings and memories remain in the head, but there is nothing to control them. That's why I'm here, with my fragmentary memories of my past life and a good knowledge of the world.
Now, let's get on with it.
Harry lived strictly according to plan, got in exactly where he was supposed to get in, dumbed down exactly where he was supposed to, and trusted everyone who smiled at him. This idyll lasted until the beginning of fourth year. At the beginning of the year, Potter found out that his red-haired friend was actually consorting with him out of choice. No, the Weasley family had no matrimonial plans for him and treated the hero quite warmly, but the main influence on these relations was Dumbledore, who did not need Harry to get into the wrong company. Therefore, the headmaster asked Ron to befriend the chosen one and exert a positive influence on him.
Without thinking long, Potter dragged the redhead into the first empty classroom and bluntly asked him what kind of bastard he was. Weasley, to his credit, didn't try to deny it and explained everything straightforwardly: yes, our meeting in first year had been set up, Albus had decided that you needed a friend among his supporters, and considering that Ron had contributed to Harry and Malfoy's feud on the first day, he had more than done his job. The Chosen One was no stranger to the world either, his difficult childhood had taken its toll, so he had beaten up the redhead in the same class. From that moment on, the two of them never exchanged ten words.
Deciding that if they were going to play, they were going to play big, Potter dragged Granger into a neighbouring empty classroom and bluntly declared that he knew everything. Of course, he didn't know anything at the time, but after such a set-up from Weasley, he decided that a little bluffing wouldn't hurt. As it turned out, he was right. Granger blushed, then turned pale, and burst into tears. It turned out that Dumbledore had asked Hermione to keep an eye on me, directing my actions in the right direction and getting some nice bonuses in return. She was paid for her hero management with various artefacts and books that were not freely available. One time flywheel was the payment for the entire third year. It was even a shame that I was so cheaply valued.
Albus found out about the revelation of his machinations the next day and decided that he needed to get Potter back under his wing, by all means. Why he didn't just wipe the hero's memory remains a mystery to me. Apparently, too much time had passed. Oh, well, that's all right. A couple of invitations to tea, a couple of potions in his food, and Harry was part of the golden trio again. To consolidate the effect, Dumbledore decided to do a control test using a small dose of truth serum to make sure everything was back to normal.
But that's when a new saviour hero appeared in the arena, namely House elf Dobby, who could no longer bear to watch his saviour being bullied. Appearing right before the start of the tea party in the Headmaster's office, the house elf bluntly told Harry about how many potions he had taken in recently. Albus was so taken aback by such a brazen disclosure of his own brilliant plans that he didn't immediately think to intervene, and when he did, he realised it was too late. Potter, hearing the housekeeper's rant, jumped up from his seat, grabbed the fork he was supposed to eat the cake with from the table, stuck it in the Headmaster's hand, and ran away. A plan worthy of a Hero of the magical world. It was lucky that Dumbledore was still impressed by the elf's speech and didn't have time to close the door. At this point, the relationship between the hero and the Headmaster became openly hostile. Well, to be more precise, they were only hostile on Harry's part, and Albus was just coming up with new plans to regain his trust. Two months flew by behind all of this. During that time, delegations from other schools arrived at Hogwarts, and the Goblet of Fire gave out the names of the champions.
This time, Harry had absolutely no doubt who had planted his name in the cup, but there was still nothing he could do about it. Albus swore to him of his innocence the moments they crossed paths, and Potter was only getting worse by the day. The entire school was against him, and not a single person was eager to express the slightest bit of support for him. After learning about dragons from Hagrid and the bailout room from Dobby, Harry devoted all of his time to studying. Every day during his free time, he trained. It didn't help him much with the dragon, though, so he had to use Lightning Bolt the old-fashioned way.
After the first task, most of the school thawed out and started acting like nothing had happened. Harry didn't care about that, as his attitude to those around him remained hostile. Now he only expected a trick or a stab in the back from everyone, so he continued to spend all his free time training alone. It helped that at the beginning of winter Dumbledore had somehow discovered the secret of the Horcruxes and had begun searching for them, easing the pressure on Potter. But only until he found out that Harry himself was a Horcrux.
The second assignment followed the same standard scenario. Fleur was one of the few people who had treated Harry quite tolerably even before the first task, so Potter pulled Gabrielle out of the lake and got his thanks. So, little by little, quite a friendship developed between the two champions. Harry showed her the help-room and the two of them were now training together. I could see now that the Frenchwoman liked Potter, and judging by my newfound emotions, I liked her too. It's a shame Harry didn't go for anything, though knowing how he ended up, maybe it was for the best. Once I got out, I'd have to find her and stop her from getting together with Weasley.
By the start of the third trial, the passions between the Headmaster and Potter had heated up to the max. By then, Dumbledore had destroyed all of the Lord's Horcruxes, not counting the one in Harry's head and Nagaina's. Potter, on the other hand, would not be alone with the Headmaster and would run away as soon as Albus appeared on the horizon. When two bodies, one of them clearly showing no signs of life, fell onto the platform in front of the entrance to the labyrinth, the Headmaster had an ingenious plan to destroy the Horcrux in Potter's head. That the hero himself would also die had been clear from the start, so it worried Dumbledore little. As soon as the truth of Moody's identity was revealed, Albus bound the impostor and... accused Potter of murder. Fudge, who ran up next, happily confirmed the accusations and sent Potter to custody.
The trial was, of course, only a formality. There was no direct evidence to prove Potter's guilt, but there was a great deal of speculation and conjecture that proved the defendant's guilt. Harry was quiet. He didn't shout or kick, but stared silently into Dumbledore's eyes. He, in turn, looked at Potter only once, reading out the punishment. Fleur was crying in the hall, the only person who believed in my innocence. The rest of the stares I got from all sides ranged from condemning looks from Lupin and the big black dog next to him, to outright hatred from my school friends and the Weasley family. The next day, the sentence was carried out. The only people present at the execution were Dumbledore, Moody, and a few Aurors. They all hid behind the backs of their patronuses and watched indifferently.
My next memory is dated today. And, according to the calendar, it's December. Well, at least the Headmaster's plan was a success: no Horcrux left in my head.
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