Our Corrupted Souls

Part III: A Costly New Start.

"I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it."

~ Mark Twain

As he stood once again in the veil between Death and Life's realms, Harry saw his younger self tugging his mother's hair in hopes that doing so would distract and sooth her. Harry saw the small boy smile upon seeing Lily's pallid face, still believing his parents had been playing an elaborate dress-up game. Now, Harry outstretched his hand, reaching out for the little boy being smothered by Lily.

Upon feeling his ghost's cold, frightful, scarred soul, the boy in Lily's arms began to weep. He felt Harry's previous life, saw everything through his eyes, saw his parent's death, the friends this older him had lost, his guardians' sacrifices, what his only living relatives had done to him growing up, the pranks and taunts Draco Malfoy had done to him, feeling the heartbreak of seeing Ginny walk away from him with his son, the boiling anger he felt when the ministry had told him to deal with non-humans by himself, the loss of control he felt when he was forced to slaughter a whole pack, and his death.

Harry, now in tears, clutching to his mother's arm, felt his limbs be torn off, his flesh be bitten and ripped away. He felt the wolf's claws dig into his skin so deep, the claws managed to grip onto bone.

"What's wrong with him?!" James cried out upon hearing Harry's cries.

Lily tried her best to comfort the boy, gently rocking him back and forth in hopes of calming him down, but Harry's cries only became worse. "Was he cursed? Did a jinx... a- a hex, did it hit him?" By now, James was frantically using his wand to scan over his son. Dumbledore, who had arrived at the house a moment ago, was greeted by the bawls from the meeting room where the closest members of the Order were gathering. Dumbledore placed a calming hand on James, asking him to step aside. The old man with taupe robes gently picked Harry up to set him on the table. He pulled out his wand- the same one that had strangely enough refused to be Master by him moments ago- and used it to scan Harry in more ways than James could ever think. Dumbledore tapped into Harry's mind, attempting to see what his disarranged thoughts were, but was being kicked out by something chilling. Whatever it was made the hairs on the back of his neck stand; it made his skin crawl in a way only another wizard had ever done years ago. Wanting to know more, to verify his fears, Dumbledore tapped into Harry's soul, catching flashes, glimpses of something he and Voldemort alike feared.

'You have raised the boy like a pig to the slaughter,' sneered Snape.

Dumbledore felt the betrayal and rage Harry perceived when Severus Snape's memory revealed his true intentions.

Vernon forced Harry's head against the door under the stairs. Yelling in the boy's ear for daring to speak back to Petunia. 'Let me go,' Harry managed to say through clenched teeth. 'You're hurting me.' Harry was barely five, still unable to comprehend that his words only managed to enrage the man.

Dumbledore felt the seethed fear in the boy, but also the spark that marked a warrior, a true Gryffindor from the very start. Dumbledore felt the fear that would later mold into chivalry, just like the Dumbledore from the alternative reality had hoped.

'Harry... Harry, please-' Ginny tried her best to free herself from the man's grip, reaching out for her wand, which laid on the nightstand on her side of the bed. 'Ha... Harry-' she croaked out her fiance's name with a choked breath, feeling his grip become tighter around her throat. Ginny clenched her hand into a fist, hitting Harry on the arm in hopes of letting him go as her free hand managed to grasp her wand.