Chapter Text
...
In one of the forgotten bathrooms of Hogwarts, Harry was kneeling in front of a cauldron. His body was shivering and shaking from the strain. Harry was sweating, his teeth were clenched, and his hands were shaking. He was trying his best to ignore the pain, but it was getting worse. His skin felt like it was on fire. It was almost like he had the worst sunburn possible. It was agonizing and torturous. He just wanted the pain to stop.
He hoped the strong pain relieving potion will help him. It was taking a long time for it to be ready.
"Why is this taking so long?" he grumbled to himself, feeling anxious. He knew that he was running out of time. "I need it to be ready now. Please. Hurry. I need it. I need the potion."
He couldn't afford anyone walking into the bathroom. Harry knew if he got caught by one of the staff members then he would be in deep trouble. There was no way they wouldn't call Dumbledore and Snape.
The thought of Snape made him flinch and a light amount of smoke came off his fingers. No, no, no. He couldn't lose control here. He couldn't let his secret come out. Harry was not going to let it happen. Not at Hogwarts. Never.
When the cauldron bubbled and popped, letting out a white smoke, he quickly poured a vial of the liquid. With a trembling hand, he brought the vial to his lips. Harry tried not to gag at the foul smelling liquid.
Once he had downed the whole vial, Harry was relieved when the burning and scorching sensation had died down. It took the potion about a few minutes before it kicked in. Harry's face was covered with sweat and his body was still trembling, but it was manageable.
The next potion he would need to make healing potions. Harry didn't know how much longer he could keep his secret hidden. He wasn't going to risk using magic to heal himself. Harry was not willing to take the chance of his magic acting up.
With a sigh, he cleaned up the mess and hid the potions. Harry wasn't stupid.
He knew there was something wrong with him. Something was very wrong.
After the Dementor attack last year, it seemed like his powers had changed. Ever since then his power and abilities have been changing. At first, he thought he was just going crazy. He thought it was just the stress and anxiety. The smoke was hard to ignore however.
It had been months since then.
At first, the smoke would come and go randomly. But as time went by, the smoke appeared more often. And lately, the smoke has been appearing frequently.
The smoke and the dark energy always came to life when he was scared, stressed, and or angry. It was hard to ignore or hide, especially with the amount of stress and tension he has had the last few months.
The problem was the fact he didn't understand why this was happening.
There were times the darkness was soothing, comforting and it was nice to be enveloped in. However, other times it was horrifying and it terrified him. The smoke felt alive and there were times when it didn't feel like he had any control over it. It was also growing stronger.
It was almost as if his power was getting a mind of its own.
Harry was very confused and a bit terrified. All he wanted was to be normal. Why was that so hard? Was there something wrong with him?
There had to be something wrong with him.
This was all new. Harry had never heard about or read about anything similar to his situation. It was as if he had a separate entity within him. An entity that had always been there but only started wanting out recently.
"What the bloody hell is happening to me?"
He was so lost and confused. He wished someone would help him, but no one would believe him. He was certain of that. If he told a teacher, they would just think he was lying.
He was so tired of being alone.
...
Potter was acting strange again, noted Barty under the disguise of Alastor Moody. Potter was looking extremely pale, sickly even. He was not eating his food, just pushing his plate away and drinking pumpkin juice. The boy's behavior was becoming worrisome.
Was the child sick or was something else bothering the young Gryffindor? His eye narrowed at the boy's obvious distress. The magic eye was picking up smoke tendrils coming off the child's arms. It was barely noticeable even for him.
It was concerning. Potter was his Lord's soulmate. Barty was sent to Hogwarts for two reasons. First to ensure that he was safe in the school. The second being to find a way to kidnap Potter.
The original plan was to enter him into the Tournament. However after watching Potter for a week he realized that wouldn't work. That Potter wouldn't survive the Tasks. The tasks were far too dangerous. His Lord's soulmate was far too fragile and vulnerable.
Plans would have to be changed. Soulmates were sacred in their world. He wasn't entirely sure Potter understood that he had one.
Maybe he didn't know what the mark meant? It didn't seem likely however. If he had questions there were books in the library. Hell he had friends that were Purebloods. They could have easily explained it to him.
But there was a nagging feeling.
His instincts were screaming that Potter was in danger. That the child was suffering. He wasn't sure why.
The boy looked haunted and stressed. Potter was definitely hiding a secret. A rather large one. If it wasn't about his soulmate, then what was it?
What was Potter hiding? What was causing him so much stress and worry? Whatever it was, Barty was determined to figure it out. He would find out what his Lord's soulmate was hiding.