Can You Hear Me Now


CYHMN by PseudonymousEntity


Summary: Harry doesn't save Ginny in the chamber. Instead he tries to befriend the spirit of the Dark lord and as a result learns things he never would have known and stumbles upon a secret that changes everything he thought was true. Includes witty vampires, car chases, moral dilemmas, a gunfight, torture, traitors and dramatic Malfoys. Blacks are also dramatic. Horror Parody.

Warnings: This is a HORROR PARODY. If you have made it to this point you ought to know what you're in for. Also? I laugh in the face of canon. Contains M/F,F/F,M/M Sometimes played straight, sometimes for the lols.

Characters: Harry Potter. The Malfoys. The Weasleys. Sirius Black. Magical Creatures. Vampiric storytellers.

AN: This chapter EDITED August 2019

-Ever Yours, Pseu


"I've gotten familiar with villains that live in my head - they beg me to write them so I'll never die when I'm dead

I'm bigger than my body I'm colder than this home - I'm meaner than my demons, I'm bigger the these bones

And all the kids cried out please stop you're scaring me, I can't help this awful energy

Goddamn right you should be scared of me, who is in control..."

-Halsey


A dark-haired boy waited patiently for a taller red-headed boy to turn and bolt down the hall.

He pretended to jog after him, falling back bit by bit until the other boy was much farther ahead of him. He stopped, satisfied his companion wasn't aware he was missing. With a roll of brilliant green eyes, the boy turned in a twirl of slightly too big robes to face the other direction. Now that he was alone he could do this properly. He really should have known, it was obvious looking back. His shoes darted around puddles of water onto the lighter in colour stones of the bathroom floor. Myrtle's bathroom.

"What are you doing here?"

The ghost floated forward from where she'd been levitating in the back of the room, transparent eyes looking him over with suspicion. From what he knew of her she was quite sensitive and he imagined he hadn't been liked even when she was among the living. Prone to dramatics himself he couldn't fault her for that but he would rather die than make a spectacle of himself as she had done at the death day party. And spending your afterlife throwing fits and flooding washrooms just because no one likes you?

Pathetic. You would think with all the years she had been a ghost she would have gotten something of a backbone at some point. Or at least the ability to handle her emotions better. So she was picked on, so what? He lived in a cupboard for ten years.

No one saw him having temper tantrums.

Dark hair tumbled into his face as he looked down at the floor as if very shy. "I'm s-sorry," he whispered, "I just needed someone where to hide for a minute. The other kids...they've been so cruel this year..." It was true too. The angst-filled sheeple of the castle turned on him quickly enough when it came out at the duelling club he could talk to snakes.

The horror!

Honestly, as if he would ever be so stupid as to use his gift he'd truly been the heir. He might play it down in class but he was reasonably certain he had never given anyone causes to think him so stupid. What would be the point of egging the snake on in front of so many witnesses? He knew from experience people often saw and believed what they wanted to see and believe. Thus it could be assumed, what with the strangeness of his survival and the events of the previous year, they had been waiting for him to do something to prove he was untrustworthy.

And what did Dumbledore do? The man who supposedly believed him? Did he say a word in his favour to calm the student body? Of course not.

One had to wonder why.

"Oh! You poor dear. Who's picking on you? You're so little Harry they ought to be ashamed. At least I was always picked on people my own size."

He only stiffened when she mentioned his size. Why did everyone have to mention it?

"Everyone." He mumbled. "They all think I'm the one p-petrifying people. They won't leave me alone a-and they're saying the most a-awful things..." Harry was careful to keep his face down lest the ghost, who came closer to coo at him, see the grin on his face.

"That's just ridiculous. What, do they think you're part basilisk?" She teased.

Harry tilted his head to glance at her through his fringe, widening his eyes. "What do you mean, what's a basilisk?"

She grinned wickedly. "Oh, it's positively monstrous. That is how I died you know, all those years ago."

"Is it truly?" He asked, pouring as much awe into his voice as he could manage while trying not to scoff at how easily she was manipulated. He might have felt at least a little guilty if she was more likeable, as it was he found her tedious and annoying.

"Yes indeed. I was hiding in here much like you were trying to do after Olive Hornby was particularly nasty to me. I heard someone in here, a boy, I came out of my stall to tell them to get out so I could wallow in my embarrassment in peace when-" she gave a gasp, "I died."

"Just like that?"

She sighed dreamily. "Quite sudden I know. The very last thing I remember seeing was a pair of large yellow eyes just there." She turned and motioned toward the sinks.

Harry's eyes snapped over. The sinks. How utterly random and unlikely.

"The sinks?"

Myrtle floated closer and nodded at one. "This one. Do you see the little snake carving? Rather obvious now really."

Hiding in plain sight. "Thank you! If I can find a way to prove I'm not responsible, if I can clear my name, then maybe they will all stop picking on me. Oh, you're so wonderful, thank you you absolutely useful ghost." He beamed at her.

Myrtle blinked her eyes rapidly. "I, well You're welcome I suppose. Do be careful."

He nodded already heading for the sinks.

"If you should perish you're welcome to share my toilet." She added.

Harry looked over his shoulder and gave a nod. "I would be most delighted."

With a pleased shriek and a splash, Myrtle disappeared within one of the toilets. Harry let out a sigh. Finally, he was alone again. His emerald e yes stared at the snake carving critically. A sign for Slytherin, obviously and probably an allusion to snake language. Well, there was nothing for it.

"Open?" He tried, feeling stupid.

To his amazement and slight disappointment, the sink lowered a foot or so into the floor then pushed back into the wall until all that was left was a large hole that went a very long way down. He had expected to have to try a bit harder for the password. Really though there couldn't be all that many parselmouths out there he supposed so he guessed he could see why Slytherin allowed himself to be complacent in that respect.

He would have to try it out on the Slytherin common room entrance when he had the chance. Not seeing an alternative Harry closed his eyes, berated himself for being a Gryffindor and took a very literal leap of faith. That the faith was in Salazar Slytherin of people and thus suspect was something he decided not to think about. After all, he was falling through the air in absolute darkness, there were other things to worry about.

After a surprising amount of time, he slid through the end of the pipe and landed with a skid along a grimy floor. Harry lifted his head and glanced about. Still dark for the most part though he could see torches on the walls just ahead. Presumably, that was the way to go. He rose to his feet and tossed off his robes and kicked them away in disgust. After he took care of all of this, provided he managed not to die, he would go about cleaning this place up.

After all, there was no reason to let a super cool top-secret hiding place go to waste was there?

The tunnel went on and on with several winding turns thrown in. He had to be pretty far underneath the school. He thought he may not even be within the school grounds at this point. As he walked around yet another wide turn he met a large wall completely closing off the path. He examined the newest carvings with great interest. It showed two snakes entwined with eyes the colour of his own. He liked them immediately.

With a grin, he walked up to the wall and said clearly, "Open."

The wall split down the middle, each side disappearing into the sides of the tunnel. Beyond lay the beginning of an enormous inner chamber. He could make out tall carved pillars rising to meet a ceiling whose end he could not make out. Odd green light flickered throughout the room, glistening off the damp walls and reflecting in pools of water collected in various dips in the stone floor. He couldn't help but think this would make an awesome secret base. Something all his own he wouldn't have to share with anyone and no one would be able to take it away from him.

How could they? He was the only one who could even get in. A place all his own.

Grinning smiling widely Harry walked into the chamber, listening to the dull echoes his shoes made. It wasn't until he was much farther in that he noticed it, a bit of bright red standing out against the greens and greys of the room. There on the floor just at the base of the largest statue he'd ever seen lay Ron's sister. "Ginny."

She didn't move. Cautiously he made his way toward her, wand out. Upon reaching her he knelt and set his wand aside to shake her gently.

"Miss Weasley?" He whispered. She could have been asleep if not for her unnatural stillness, even the rising and falling of her chest so slight he almost believed she was dead.

"She won't wake," said a voice as soft as his own. He turned immediately to see a taller, older boy with dark hair leaning against a pillar. There was something very strange about this boy. The outline of his body was...blurry. He wondered if, like Nearly Headless Nick, this boy was nearly a ghost but not quite.

"Tom?"

The boy gave a nod but said nothing.

"Are you a ghost?" He asked, giving up on tact. There was no polite way to ask someone if they ought to be passed on was there? He couldn't think of a way at least and honestly, the curiosity was killing him.

"Not quite," Riddle correctly, still speaking softly, "I've been preserved in that diary for some time now. Not quite alive and not quite not alive either, wandering about a memory of Hogwarts. Alone."

Harry glanced down. Just a few feet from Ginny lay the diary he found in Myrtle's bathroom.

"As fascinating as all of this is I need to get her out of here, quickly. I'm not immune to the basilisk. At least I don't think I am, snake speaking abilities aside, and I don't much fancy risking it." He reached out for his wand- to find it gone. He blinked.

"Did you see where my wand went-" He cut off as he realized the wand twirling between Riddle's fingers was his own.

"Oh." Said Harry.

Riddle's lips turned up at the corners.

"Alright look. The thing is, I have to get her out of here before the snake comes back so if you don't mind-"

"The basilisk won't come until it's called. Fear not." Easy for him to say, he wasn't the one who had to worry about dying.

"I'd like to have my wand and leave just the same, Tom."

Riddle's smile grew. He was amused Harry realized. "You won't be needing it." Said Riddle, as if puzzled.

Harry raised a brow.

"I've been waiting for this. To see you Harry. To speak with you. I've been ever so patient listening to the girl whine on and on about petty frivolous things. Then she finally mentioned something worth learning about. You Harry. I encouraged her and she poured her heart and soul out to me. Enough for me to pour bits of my own back into her. With her help I was able to open the chamber, to leave my messages. She did eventually become suspicious. She tossed the diary away and who should come upon it but you. The very person I was so anxious to meet."

"What is so interesting about me?"

It was Riddle's turn to raise a brow. "You are fascinating Harry. I just had to learn more about you, meet you if I could. A surprising distraction from my purpose. I left a bit of myself behind to lead another in my footsteps, in Slytherin's noble work."

"No one's died or anything you know." Harry pointed out. "I don't know if that was your intention or not but they've only been petrified and the Mandrake Draught is almost finished. Ginny wasn't the best minion it seems."

"Ah but haven't I told you? Haven't you guessed? For many months now I've had a new target."

Harry swallowed. Suddenly feeling as nervous as he probably should have been from the start walking into this situation.

"Me?"

Another nod. "I was most displeased when the diary was opened and it was Ginny who had me once more, She stole me from you, terrified you would learn all of her secrets. But I knew how clever you were Harry, how insatiably curious. I knew if I left the right clues you would figure it out. She told me the school turned on you, convinced you were the Heir. You speak the serpent's tongue. You were worthy of sharing the secret. So I brought her down here. She did try to struggle and refused to speak with me. Very boring in the end. Of course, there isn't much life left in her now. That's probably why."

He tilted his head. "I knew you would do it. You figured it out and you came and I have questions for you Harry."

Questions were good. Conversation was good. Anything not killing him was good frankly.

"Questions?" He flicked his eyes about for any other exit possibilities just in case. He was a fast runner if need be but he didn't think he could outrun a basilisk. Best to keep all possibilities in mind though.

Riddle's gaze roamed over him hungrily. "How did you, such a small, unremarkable thing at first glance, manage to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar when Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?" His eyes flashed red.

Shivering, Harry met his predatory gaze straight on. "Why do you care?"

He was stalling. He didn't know the answer.

Riddle pulled Harry's wand through the air tracing out the words TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. With a wave, the letters rearranged to I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. The older boy turned back to him with his chin raised as if to say, 'what do you think about that then'. Harry knew he ought to be focusing more on who this was but he was too busy focusing on who this was. He should be afraid because this was Lord Voldemort's teenage self.

Instead, his curiosity rose up within him with a vengeance because this was a teenage Dark Lord. Who knew what he could learn from him? Harry knew exactly what he wanted to learn first.

"Okay, that's an amazing anagram and everything but can you teach me that?"

The older teen furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry?"

Harry pointed, standing from his spot by Ginny and walking toward him throwing caution to the wind in the face of satisfying his curiosity. "That thing you're doing with my wand, twirling it like a drummer in a rock band. That's pretty cool."

"Is it?" Riddle asked, bemused. He studied his hand twirling abilities as though he were trying to see it from the other boy's perspective. "I always thought it was rather flippant and a touch intimidating."

"Oh, it is," Harry assured him. "Can you show me, please? I'd like to use that."

Tom Riddle's eyes darkened and he smiled. It was more of a demonic baring of perfect teeth and a flash of darkly glinting eyes than any sort of smile Harry had become accustomed to prior to this...facial expression. He couldn't tell if the shivers he got from it were in awe of Riddle's blatant crazy, or his body was trying to spontaneously-combust since his fight or flight response refused to kick in and move his feet, and himself by association, as far from the cunning teen as it was possible to be.

Like France. Or Connecticut.

Riddle motioned at Ginny. "Take the girl first, then come back. We'll have a chat. Quickly, they'll be suspicious if you're gone too long."

"Right." Harry nodded, turned and walked over to the first year girl. He nudged her with his shoe. Still no movement, or signs of life really. "Is she, er, dead? Or anything?"

"No. Not yet."

"Oh." He'd thought she might have died by now. They had to have been talking for over half an hour.

"You should probably get her back before she dies."

Green eyes widened. "Oh! You're right. One minute Riddle."

"Tom." He corrected.

"Tom then." Harry agreed, focusing on other things. The older teen had already said she was dying, hadn't he? If he 'rescued' her before she died he would still get some hero points, After all, it wasn't his fault if they didn't get her looked at quickly enough to help her. As he levitated her and began his trek out of the chamber he noted Tom looking at him calculatingly.

"Yes?" His steps faltered, uneasy. He didn't like being stared at.

"Shouldn't you care more about..." He waved in Ginny's general

direction.

"Yeah but I'm tired."

An elegant brow rose. "Tired?"

Harry gave a long-suffering sigh and figured a sixteen-year-old reincarnation of Lord Voldemort wasn't about to go running off to Dumbledore if he explained. "Yes, I haven't had coffee in days and honestly all the teenage angst swarming around me combined with all the nasty glares I've been getting recently, thanks for that, have kind of sapped my motivation for this hero business. Don't get me wrong this whole Boy-Who-Lived-Thing has its perks but none of them seems to be worth it. Also, it's tiring to play a part all of the time."

"...I see."

He waved over his shoulder at the teen Dark Lord and left. Now, there was a number of things he could do. He could tell Dumbledore everything, play hero, maybe save the girl. Or. Or he could keep it to himself and Dumbledore could go choke on a lemon drop. Honestly, he was favouring the latter.

Perhaps if the headmaster had done anything at all to fix the problems that happened within his school so Harry didn't have to get involved, or if he kept kids from trying to kill him in the halls because they thought he was the Heir of Slytherin he might have done the golden boy routine. But the headmaster hadn't and Harry didn't much want to anyway. He liked Tom, first of all. Even more so now they could talk in person. He was fun in a rickety roller coaster exciting-but-you-might-die kind of way.

Harry also liked the Chamber and fancied it a good hideout when he wanted to be alone. Which a lot of the time. There was only so much loudness and tomfoolery and teasing and whining and other ridiculousness he could take before he started considering the balcony of the Astronomy Tower a good place to sit and think.

There wasn't technically anything wrong with their expectations of him. If he had been who they thought he was. The problem was that he really, really wasn't. Not even a little. He tried to be oh yes, he tried his best but Harry had had more than enough pretending. He didn't owe this world anything, they'd left him to rot at the Dursely's hadn't they? He asked Dumbledore if he could stay at the school for the summer and he refused, the man even had the audacity to claim Harry was exaggerating about his home life.

The school turned on him quick enough this year. He'd secretly enjoyed their fear if he was being honest, it'd been funny to see them scurry out of his way. Ignoring the fact he was the smallest student in the school in every way a person could be small. Not very threatening really. Some of the taints however and the hexing in the halls and getting tripped down the stairs was getting old. Fast. No, he decided, he'd keep this to himself. He'd see what happened.

They would still be thankful for him rescuing Ginny, even if she did die soon, and he... Oh, here we go.

Harry quickly woke up the red-headed girl with an enervate, he couldn't remember it for the life of him down in the chamber but that all worked out for the best, and explained that he had rescued her from the Chamber. When she asked about Tom and a diary he denied any knowledge of it, going wide-eyed and frightened at the very thought.

Thank you Quirrelmort who knew you'd ever be useful?

She bought it. She bought it even though she'd stolen the Diary from him herself. Of course, she was traumatized he supposed but it was disgusting that it didn't occur to her to think for herself. Not Harry's fault. He wasn't the one who allowed a diary to take over his mind. Honestly, it was like the chit had no will power. He resisted the Dark Lord at age eleven when he offered him his parents for Merlin's sake and he'd gone into the situation with almost no experience in the magical world.

This was a girl who grew up knowing better than to trust magical talking objects found randomly in their stuff. Her father worked for the freaking Ministry correcting inanimate objects charmed to do things they shouldn't with the purpose of hurting the new owner.

After Ginny explained everything that had happened since she found the diary in her cauldron, and he couldn't believe she was stupid enough to admit it all to someone she didn't even really know, he convinced her to pretend that she had nothing to do with it. Neither of them would mention the diary. Someone else was responsible for the whole situation and they didn't know who. They wouldn't mention Tom.

She quickly agreed when he pointed out if she confessed the truth they would throw her into Azkaban and she'd never see her parents again. He didn't know if any of that were true but her face had gone even paler and she'd trembled at the idea, frightened and ashamed of her actions. After rehearsing the story with the slightest of differences in them they made their way up the spiral staircase and into the headmaster's office. He didn't think it would matter much, as Tom hinted she'd die soon, and she really did look bad, so very pale and tired and almost faded but he wanted to cover all of his bases.

After all once she died no one else would know the truth. No one but Tom and Harry doubted he'd be inclined to share anytime soon.

Irritatingly it was several hours before he could sneak away to the Chamber. He told them he needed to go take a nap after killing the Basilisk, which he hadn't but he was hoping he could talk Tom into not trying to kill any more people for a bit. At least not at the school, Harry would have to rethink their cease-fire if Tom got Hogwarts closed and Harry had to be with the Dursleys full time.

Later that evening the second year Gryffindor stared at the boy in front of him, slightly out of breath from dodging impromptu curses when Tom seemed to decide he did, in fact, want to kill him only to abruptly change his mind. Unstable bastard. If anyone had told him yesterday that today he would be sitting, crossed legged, in the chamber of secrets, bantering with Mini-Lord-Voldemort he'd have directed them to Madam Pomphrey immediately. Yet here he was getting to know the teenage version of the man who tried to kill him.

It was mostly him sitting there and listening really and once in a while giving his opinion as required. Harry imagined it must have something to do with Tom's lack of conversation partners, what with being a life-sapping inanimate object and all. The older boy's emotions changed quickly, angry one moment, curious the next and irritated the moment after. His complimenting and insulting skills experiencing flows of usage accordingly.

"It's frightening really." Harry murmured finally.

Tom stopped his ranting about the state of the educational system to stare at him blankly. "What is?"

He pointed at the other boy's head. "How many people you've got in there."

"It's maddening." Tom deadpanned.

"I'm quite sure it is."

Tom watched him for a moment, that hungry gleam returning to his eyes paired this time with uncertainty, "Why aren't you and I...associates?"

Harry nearly laughed at the blatant avoidance of the term 'friends'.

"You tried to kill me."

"Is that all? All this pent up anger isn't good for the soul Harry. You need to learn to let things go." Said Tom, brushing off his slacks primly. Harry didn't know why he bothered, they'd been sitting on the floor for a while now and the sort of stuff lying about here wouldn't come off so easily.

"Twice." He corrected, narrowing his eyes at the older boy.

Tom gave an odd nod with a toothy smile creeping over his face. Tom smiling was never good for anybody but t the shivers were delicious. Maybe Harry was an adrenaline junkie come to think of it.

"I didn't end up killing you the first time did I? And the second time I'd run out of things to talk about and needed something to fill the gap in conversation. I don't think I would have actually killed you because then I wouldn't have anyone to talk to at all."

"What."

"Bored. I was bored." Tom said as if discussing the weather rather than Harry's life.

"...I hate you."

"I'm wounded. Truly."

The raven-haired Griffindor huffed and crossed his arms.

"I don't suppose it'd be all that horrible though," said Tom, avoiding eye contact. "Being your...associate...I mean. I've never had any sort of companion before, aside from snakes of course. I could always kill you if I get tired of you I suppose."

Harry beamed. "That sounds fair."


Pseudonymous Entity

2014


Thoughts, Theories, Guesses and Limericks always welcome

AN: I've gone through and edited this chapter. It's been so long since I've read the first few chapters (years) that I'd forgotten how my old style was and how cluttered it could be. Not to mention I never bothered to check spelling over before I posted back then. I'm certainly not perfect when it comes to catching every mistake now but I at least put in the effort. In other news, this is a story I plan on rewriting. Simply because I can actually plot out the story arcs in ways that make more sense and are less rushed, and I've gotten much better at character development. I will continue this story, the original, at the same time for the original fans of it.

-pseu