Chapter Text
Snakes Influence
Chapter 1
The Diary
Harry knew he should have hidden the diary after what happened. Tom Riddle showed him what happened years ago. Hagrid’s monster was the one who killed the girl, at least according to the memory. Harry should have been shocked or offended that Tom was blaming his half-giant friend, but he didn’t feel those emotions. Instead, he felt suspicious over Hagrid, and then immediately guilty for being suspicious.
So much so after his awkward encounter with the half-giant, and returning to the dorms to find his bed completely messed up and his drawers flown open, all of his possessions scattered. As if whoever did this was looking for something. That night, Harry opened Tom Riddle’s Diary for a second time and wrote to him.
I don’t know what to think. Someone broke into my dormitory and ripped apart my bed, drawers, and trunk! Nothing is stolen but they must be looking for something. Could it be you?
Once again the ink disappeared into the pages of the diary, and Tom’s reply bled through in a reassuring black ink.
“It could possibly be. As you must know, there was one other person who possessed my diary before you found me, Harry. Most likely they must have somehow got a hint that you’ve obtained my diary and ransacked your dormitory in trying to find me.”
Harry frowned. He didn’t like the sound of that at all. Someone went as far as to almost destroy his room and stuff just to find the diary? Why would they do that? He looked around his shoulders to make sure nobody was watching before he wrote back, But how would they know? Who are they? Does this mean that the person was in Gryffindor or did they somehow sneak in? Am I in trouble?
The diary’s response came immediately.
“You are not in trouble nor any harm, Harry. Just keep me safe and on your body and no harm will come to you. You’re correct about my previous owner being a Gryffindor. As for her identity, I don’t think I will reveal that now. Not to frustrate you but out of respect for her privacy. That said, I would rather be with you, Harry. You are much more interesting.”
I am? How? Harry asked.
“My previous owner had told me all about you, Harry, everything she had heard growing up. She has developed a fascination with you that borders on obsession. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. On that fateful day when Lord Voldemort visited your home and murdered your parents, he met to murder you too, and yet somehow… You survived and Voldemort was killed. You became a hero overnight at just one year old, and you became idolized by your disappearance. I want to know how. How is it that a babe could defeat a powerful Dark Wizard?”
Harry frowned as he read. His hand shook and for a moment he thought that he should just close the diary and not answer the questions, but he found himself dipping the quill in a bottle of ink before he scratched his answer.
I don’t know, Harry wrote honestly. I will be honest, I don’t know what idolized means but I don’t know how I lived when my parents were killed. Dumbledore thinks it’s because of my mother’s love. She sacrificed herself to save me, and that was enough to protect me from Voldemort.
“And the stories they tell of such a heroic sacrifice,” was the diary’s reply. “Tell me, where were you hiding?”
With my muggle relatives. They hate me, Harry admitted. He did not know what exactly brought out the confession, but he figured that Tom was a diary, and diaries are used to write down confessions or secret thoughts. This one just walked back to him. They kept me in a cupboard all my life and blamed me for everything.
“Disgusting, no wizard should suffer what you have gone through,” the diary replied. “Did you get your homework done?”
Yeah, Harry wrote, not sure how he felt about the sudden topic change.
“Good. Keep me hidden, Harry. I would hate for you to lose me only to end up in the hands of someone not as interesting as you.”
The text disappeared, and feeling that their conversation was done, Harry did as the diary suggested and hid the black leather book in his shirt before stretching and checking the time before running off to join the other boys in a game of Exploding Snaps.
The school year went on, and Harry found himself writing in the diary rather frequently. Mostly about the Heir of Slytherin attacks, which had stopped for now, along with anything that came to mind from his strange ability to talk to snakes and how much he hates Professor Snape and finds Professor Lockhart useless. A week went by and Harry felt a little irritable, as if he didn’t have enough sleep. This was odd because, during the week, Harry was sure he gotten plenty of sleep. The diary made sure of it, going as far as to tell Harry to retire to bed if he was trying to stay up late. He hoped that it wasn’t noticeable, however on the day of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, Ron and Hermione both pulled him aside before the match to check on him.
“Harry mate, are you alright?” Ron asked. “You seem twitchy.”
“I’m not twitchy, I’m fine,” Harry said as he held the diary openly in his arms. “I just didn’t have enough sleep last night, that’s all.”
“Are you sure that’s it?” Hermione asked with a frown.
“Yes, that’s it,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “Wood keeps us late to train for the match, that’s all. I’ll have some sleep after the match.”
Hermione didn’t look convinced and neither did Ron. Hermione’s eyes glanced at Harry’s diary and asked, “How late do you often stay up writing in that thing? It’s not good to stay up late, Harry.”
“I know and not that late!” Harry said.
“You write in there every night,” Ron said. “Why are you even writing in a toilet diary?”
“It’s not a toilet diary!” Harry shouted with sudden rage before pulling himself back. “Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s not a toilet diary, Ron, it’s just a diary. And of course, I’m supposed to write in it every night.”
Hermione looked worried. “What if that is what whoever broke in was looking for?” she asked. “There’s a reason why someone tried to throw it away, you told us yourself the diary talked back to you. Diaries shouldn’t do that, Harry.”
Harry frowned and looked at his diary, “Tom Riddle might be wrong about Hagrid but that doesn’t mean that it’s dangerous,” he said. “He got an award for helping Hogwarts!”
“Still, I think maybe you should give the diary to Professor McGonagall or Dumbledore to examine, just to make sure that it’s safe,” Hermione suggested.
“I am not giving Professor McGonagall my diary!” Harry hissed. “Look, everything is fine, okay? I’m just a little tired. After the match, I’ll take a nap, okay?”
“Then why not let Ron and I hold onto your diary during the match?” Hermione suggested, “We promise we won’t read it.”
Harry shook his head and took a step back, “You two are being ridiculous,” he said. “My diary is fine, it’ll be fine in my locker. Look, I have to go now, see you after the match.” He turned and left, hugging the diary tightly as he made his way to the Quidditch Pitch.
For some reason, he was scared that Ron or Hermione would look into his locker to get his diary, so he convinced Fred to hide his diary in Fred’s locker during the game. He mentally promised to write to Tom later as he placed the diary in the locker, feeling a strange weight on his shoulders as he watched the locker door close.
The weight didn’t affect Harry as he flew, thankfully. He needed all of his skill and focus to keep up with the Hufflepuff Seeker, a handsome teen named Cedric Diggory who constantly smiled at Harry and egged him on in a friendly manner. In the end, the Gryffindors won! Harry caught the snitch right in front of Diggory and he couldn’t wait to tell his diary about it!
That night Gryffindor celebrated as usual, and everyone was up till the early hours of the morning until Professor McGonagall had to come in to put a stop to it all. Like always, Harry wrote quickly in the diary and fell asleep holding onto it as he dreamed of his victory.
Tom Riddle already felt his grasp on the boy growing. He was much more powerful than that insolent welp of a girl, but he knew that in the end, he would need to deal with both after his resurrection. He was not a dark lord who leaves loose ends. But tonight, as the foolish boy slept Tom was ready to have the boy do his bidding. He felt his magic seep into the boy’s head and mind, and he smirked as memories started to appear in front of him. Harry with his friends dressed in those disgusting Gryffindor robes. Harry fighting a troll. Harry worrying about homework. Harry speaking to a snake. Tom paused at this memory. The girl had told him about Potter’s ability to speak to snakes, but he did not believe her. Deeper he delved into Potter’s mind, looking for a comfortable place to take control of the boy.
That was when he felt a familiar presence. Tom paused, in front of him was a memory of Harry locked in a cupboard. But it wasn’t the memory that drew Tom’s attention, but a darkness. Two darknesses. One was mature and familiar, and the other felt like a seed waiting to bud. Tom reached for the two sources of darkness and immediately felt a familiarity with the mature, older one. It was himself. A piece of his soul embedded deep inside the boy’s mind and soul. The boy was a Horcrux. He was the same as the diary.
With this revelation, Tom’s plans changed. He couldn’t kill the boy, that would be like killing himself. No, the boy needs to live, but how the boy lives will depend on the second source of darkness Tom feels. But before that, he reached out to the piece of his soul. His own memories ended when he was sixteen, but this Horcrux was newer than the diary, It only held a sliver of Voldemort’s power and magic, but it also held his memories and knowledge that Tom needed. Dark tendrils curled around Tom’s hand and arm, and Tom grasped them, pouring his own magic into the tendrils, using his soul and magic to siphon everything he needed from the sliver of Voldemort’s soul. It’ll keep in place in the boy, but it’ll be weaker. In its place, to be a stronger presence in Harry’s mind and soul, will be Tom. With that done, Tom turned to the budding darkness and found beauty.
It was a swirl of deep emerald and dark purple colors mixing with each other. Turning in on itself and pushing out, contained by an invisible barrier. From the darkness, came Harry’s voice. “I hate them. They always hurt me. Why do I have to do it? I’m scared. Freak. I don’t want to be the hero. They should all die.” In his phantasmal form, Tom felt the etches of a smile grace his face as he listened to the young boy’s craving for violence. It was contained in a strong shield of self-restraint and guilt, but those would be easy to do away with. Tom turned back to Harry’s memories and watched more of his earlier years. He saw the abuse and loneliness he faced with the muggles. He saw that the boy was forced to be their slave and his wishes of defiance and retribution only to feel guilty immediately after. With each caning, belting, and night of starvation he watched, Tom’s plan formed. The boy needed a mentor, a role model to look up to. And Tom Riddle will fill that role perfectly.
It started with a simple phrase left in the diary for Harry to read. “Good morning, little brother.”
Hours later, Harry’s response came. Little brother? Why did you call me that, Tom?
“After everything we’ve been through Harry, I had a sense that you need an older role model, someone who you can confide in but isn’t a teacher or an adult. After all, adults barely listen to reason. If you want, I can be that person for you, Harry. I can be the older brother that you need.”
I like that idea. I don’t have any siblings, it’s just me and my muggle relatives and you know how much we feel about each other. Thank you, older brother.
“Any time, Harry. I’m always here for you.”
And he was. Night after night, Tom acted like the dutiful brother. He listened to Harry’s troubles and gave him advice on homework and his social life. Tom did not like Weasley or Granger. One was a blood traitor and the other was a mudblood. The dirt of society in Tom’s eyes, and his younger brother deserved better than associating with them. Not that Tom would tell Harry that directly. No, now was not the time. He can suffer the pair for now, just until he can have a proper body and better protect his younger brother. But in the meantime, he could still do research in preparation for Harry’s third year. He didn’t want Harry in Gryffindor. He wouldn’t stand his horcrux, his little brother, in the den of lions. No, Tom will have Harry moved and befriend more proper wizards.
Harry couldn’t help but notice strange things happening around him. It started around the time Hagrid was brought to Azkaban. He would wake up in his bed, but he would have his Invisibility Cloak on his bed as if he used it. One time he woke up just a head and it freaked him out before he kicked the cloak off. One time he woke up with aching feet as if he was walking the entire night, and there was ink on his diary! He asked Tom about it, but his older brother told him not to worry because he didn’t notice any changes. “Perhaps you forgot that you wrote to me in the middle of the night. You just told me you found snakes ‘awesome animals.’” Harry blushed, realizing that that was most likely what happened. But it didn’t explain his cloak and aching feet.
The Heir of Slytherin’s attacks stopped, and while Harry knew he should be relieved, he couldn’t help but worry about Hagrid and told Tom as much. Meanwhile, Hermione kept watching him. She wouldn’t let it go about his strange diary. Every night Harry spilled his stress and worries out to Tom, and every night Tom would listen and bemoan the fact that he couldn’t help or hold his brother. He kept repeating how much Harry needed a hug, and Harry agreed. He needed a hug from his brother, especially as June came in and every stress and worry in the twelve-year-old seemed to come to a head. It all became too much and he lost the Quidditch finale! Lost! To Malfoy! He spent hours that night crying into his diary about the match and how he should have won! Mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted Harry went to bed clutching the diary tightly to his chest, dreaming of winning the Quidditch match. And while Harry dreamed, Tom took control to make his brother’s life easier.
It was easy for Tom to slip into Harry’s body. He let his precious younger horcrux sleep as he went to work. He took Harry’s wand and cloak and threw it around himself, sneaking out of the boy’s dormitory. The first order of business was to tie up a loose end. As soon as he reached the common room, Tom turned and started up the stairs to the girl’s dormitory before he stopped suddenly, and aimed Harry’s wand at the stairs, which just began to disappear before freezing in a half-sloped angle. Tom shook his head and continued up the stairs and into the first-year girls’ dormitory.
Ginny Weasley was sleeping peacefully in her bed. If Tom was nice, he would kill her there in her sleep. However, the Horcrux had needs of her. “Imperio,” he whispered, aiming Harry’s wand at the sleeping girl. Wake up and come to me, Tom commanded in his mind and the girl did so resistantlessly. Tom threw the cloak over her body so that it covered both and he covered her mouth as he silenced her with a spell. “Follow,” he commanded, and she followed Tom down the stairs, which he turned back to normal as soon as they were off. Tom turned and smiled at Ginny, her eyes looking hazy and unfocused. “I must thank you for attempting to drown me, Ms. Weasley,” Tom said, stroking her cheek. “You brought me to my little brother, my sweet Harry. But unfortunately, we cannot have you around.” Shock started to push her eyes slightly, but she was no match for Tom’s dark magic. “No, no, no tears now, girl. You still have time. An hour, maybe two? So enjoy it, Ginny, you’re going to be with your crush for the rest of your life.” Tom laughed cruelly as Ginny stared at him unfocused. With the first thread, he now needed a way to make his younger brother happy. For some reason, he liked the half-giant, and they both agreed that the Defense Professor was useless. So Tom figured he could take care of two things with one action and led Ginny out of Gryffindor Tower and toward Professor Lockhart’s office.
The two snuck into the office easily. It was filled with pictures of the Professor, surrounding Tom and Ginny with flashy smiles of pure white teeth that made the Horcrux sick to Harry’s stomach. With a wave of his wand, slashes appeared on each and every portrait, the Gilderoys all panicking and running around as some paintings fell from the wall. Tom pulled the cloak from Ginny and ordered her to call out for the professor.
“Professor Lockhart! Professor Lockhart! Help!” Ginny yelled out in a neutral tone. There was a bang as if something crashed, and Professor Lockhart rushed out wearing nightrobes. “Ms. Weasley! What is with this uh sudden intrusion?” he asked. Tom aimed his wand at Lockhart and uttered a second Imperius Curse. Like the foolish girl, the man offered no resistance and stared blankly ahead. Feeling confident, Tom took the Invisibility Cloak off and locked the office door.
Tom sighed as he took out his diary, placing it gently on the ground, and turned to the girl, “Kneel,” he ordered. Ginny moved and knelt in front of the open diary while Tom turned to Lockhart. “My return will be delayed, but your deaths will let me hold what is mine.” He pressed his wand to Lockhart’s head and immediately delved into his mind. He used the magic from Voldemort’s soul in Harry to change his memories just in case Dumbledore decided to examine the corpse.
He fed a story into Lockhart’s mind. The glory and attention-obsessed man was jealous of Harry Potter’s attention. Sure, he was an award-winning writer, but he needed something to get ahead of this child’s popularity. He truly believed that it was because of Potter that he was on the front page once more, and his decision to teach at Hogwarts was a last chance to grab a little more fame. It was at Hogwarts that Lockhart learned about the Heir of Slytherin and what happened fifty years ago. Deciding that it would be the perfect subject for his next book, Lockhart went to work. He froze his victims with a dark spell similar to a basilisk’s gaze, and he had plans on how his final conflict with the dark creature would leave him victorious at the cost of an innocent life. Ginny Weasley would be the unfortunate girl that Lockhart picked for this dark deed. He kidnapped the girl and brought her to the office where, after he killed her, Lockhart felt intense guilt over what he did and killed himself.
With this in Lockhart’s head, Tom commanded him, “Write down your confession and kneel in front of my diary,” Tom ordered. Lockhart turned to do as he commanded, and Tom moved to Ginny. He combed his fingers through Ginny’s hair and said, “I’m not entirely without mercy, your death will be peaceful as if slumbering into an eternal sleep. So good night, Ginny Weasley.” He pressed Harry’s wand against the girl’s side and with a flash of green light, she was no more.
Tom let the body fall next to his book, and with another press against the body, blood started to pour out of a small circle of her neck, coating the pages. Tom breathed through his nose as he felt his power returning. The diary absorbed Ginny’s blood, leaving the floor spotless as Lockhart returned.
Lockhart knelt in front of the diary and Tom transfigured a nearby pencil into a letter opener. It floated into Lockhart’s hand and Tom gave him his final command, “Bleed onto the diary.” He turned just as Lockhart started to harm himself silently. Tom moved to the windows and sat down, watching the full moon move across the starry sky. With each breath, he felt his power and life returning. It was far from enough, but it would do for what he needed to do.
Hours passed, and Tom turned to the two bodies when he felt the blood flow stop. Ignoring the two bodies, Tom took his clean diary and pocketed it. He fixed the hole in Ginny’s body before rooting through Lockhart’s body for the man’s wand. Pointing it at Ginny he cast the Imperius and Killing Curses at the body. He cleaned the wand and dropped it near Lockhart’s body. His tasks done, Tom left the scene of the crime under Harry’s invisibility cloak and returned to Gryffindor Tower, slipping the cloak off once he was at Harry’s bed and with a satisfied smile, he lay in Harry’s bed and allowed his control over the boy to fade.
Harry woke up to the sound of crying. He groaned as he got up, finding his feet aching again for some reason, and shoved his glasses on to see Ron sitting on his bed surrounded by his brothers and Hermione. All of them looked sad for some reason. The twins, Ron, and Hermione were openly crying while Percy just sat next to them looking stony-faced. “What’s the matter?” Harry asked as he slipped out of bed.
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione sniffled, “we didn’t want to wake you—we tried but…”
“Ginny’s dead,” Ron said sorrowfully. “Our parents are on their way here.”
“What!?” Harry shouted, jumping out of bed. “What do you mean Ginny’s—”
“They found her body this morning,” Fred said. He patted Ron’s shoulder and stood up to sit next to Harry. He placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder and pulled him in for a side hug. “That bastard Lockhart killed her,” he said angrily. “He’s the one behind the attacks and he killed our sister!”
Harry felt the tears gather and he hugged Fred who collapsed onto him. They both cried and Harry muttered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again. He moved from Fred to Ron and crushed his best friend in a hug, holding onto his for dear life as Ron cried onto his shoulder. The other Weasleys gathered around along with Hermione, the group of them crying. This was how Mr. and Mrs. Weasley found them along with Professor McGonagall when they arrived. Mrs. Weasley looked as if she cried the entire journey there and she stretched her arms as much as she could to hug all of them. “My boys,” she said, kissing the tops of their heads. “Harry, Hermione. Ohh Ginny! Poor, poor Ginny! My baby girl!” She cried and Harry and Hermione did their best to step away respectfully so the Weasleys could grieve in peace.
The castle had a mournful feeling. Harry braced himself when he saw Draco Malfoy and the other Slytherin boys from their year approach him and Ron later that day. He reached for his wand, but to their surprise, none of them were sneering at them. “Weasley… Potter,” Malfoy said as if he had to force every word out. “We’re… sorry for your loss.”
“You don’t deserve this,” Zabini said, staring at Ron.
“Uh… thanks?” Ron said and the Slytherins left. He and Harry shared a confused look before moving about their day. Dumbledore and Ron’s parents agreed that the Weasleys would leave the school early to properly mourn and bury Ginny. Thankfully, their finals were done but that seemed like the least of their concerns. Harry and the other boys helped Ron pack, all of them giving Ron a hug as he joined with his brothers to leave.
Harry turned to Tom once he was alone, crying into the pages late at night. He was the only one awake in the common room. Tom, for some reason, was not replying and it only made Harry cry more. Suddenly, he felt arms curl around his body and a calm voice whispered in his ear, “I’m here little brother, it’s okay. I have you.” Harry turned in his chair to see the tall and handsome form of Tom Riddle. He cried more and latched onto Tom, hugging him tightly as Tom stood strong. In Harry’s mind, Tom could feel the briefest hint of guilt and with a brotherly kiss to Harry’s forehead, he crushed it, leaving only comfort and devotion for his brother.