Harry Potter and the Dreamer Awakened (Part 10)

Harry Potter and the Dreamer Awakened (Part 10)

The three of them looked on at where Asriel had stood, where the newcomer now stood inspecting himself. As tall as Asgore, but with a thin and almost skeletal look. His horns and snout underdeveloped compared to his parents. What little fur appeared above the simple black robes he now wore was off colour and matted, like it had not been washed in years. His unnaturally long fingers still ended in wicked claws as they felt a face dominated by solid scarlet eyes with snakelike slits.

"This...power. It is incredible. I need more. I should have let the flower take me long before now. I have wasted months on restoring the present order when I could have pursued this instead. I shall not make this mistake again."

"Who are you?" Demanded Frisk. "What have you done with Asriel?!"

"Do not pretend that you do not realise who I am, foolish child." He replied softly. "As for your friend, I am making the most of his potential. His childish wishes would have squandered this opportunity."

He waved his arms. Ropes sprang from them and tied Frisk up, arms firmly entrenched by their sides. They were still standing and looking stubborn.

"It is your actions that have allowed me access to this opportunity. Breaking the barrier at the moment the sneakthief dropped me here, where I could make contact with one I can really use. Lord Voldemort is not without mercy, muggle. If you do not interfere, you may depart this place when I am finished. Consider this boon a final gift from your friend."

"He's my brother you son of a-"

Voldemort ignored them. He proceeded to turn to Harry, just as Hermione had finished edging over to him.

"You have succeeded in what must have been your goal, Harry Potter. The horcrux that protected me is no more. Any protection I would have offered my true self is gone. As is any allegiance I may have owed him. I am free to carve my own path. A better path."

To demonstrate this path, he began to float two feet off the ground.

"I am only part of a soul, but this body taps into my entire potential. If I met my true self, I would be his equal in power. And I shall meet him! Splitting my soul was folly when a united soul could grant me enough power to fell a hundred wizards at once. And I no longer require strips of wood or words. Observe!"

"Leave them alone!" Yelled Frisk. They had hopped over and tried to jump into him. This had the benefit of sending his aim awry. Harry reacted on instinct and pulled Hermione down, just as there was a flash of green light and a rushing sound, and a shower of rocks as the curse hit the wall of the cavern. Frisk lost their balance and fell to the ground.

"A poor decision." He snarled, turning back to Frisk. "I do not think your brother appreciates you throwing your life away like this." He raised his hand.

"Stupefy!"

Harry's aim was true. The spell streaked towards Voldemort...and promptly rebounded and soared over Harry's head. He hadn't needed to make a gesture of any sort to make a shield charm.

"Thank you, Potter, for reminding me of my priorities. A stubborn muggle child can wait until I have dealt with you."

"Deprimo!"

Hermione's spell hit the ceiling of the corridor, and rocks cascaded down. They ran into the Ruins.

"A futile effort."

Voldemort waved his hand. Most of the rocks became smoke, and blew away with a sudden wind. The chase was on. Frisk shouted after him, unacknowledged.

"Asriel! ASRIEL! I know you're in there! You have to resist him!"

He can't.

"What do you mean?"

That wizard is an expert in dominating other people. And it's not like with me. He doesn't have a soul to bolster his resistance.

"So then...wait! I can load! I can warn them. Or reset and stop the locket ever-"

Wait. I have the answer.

"What do you mean?"

Your friend, Harry. He left something behind. I don't think he realises its significance, but if we can use it, we can save Asriel.

"From being possessed?"

From the wizard. From Flowey. From everything. It's amazing he had something so powerful.

Frisk's heart leapt at what had felt impossible a few minutes earlier. But then frowned. "I bet I need my hands to use it. Kinda hard at the moment."

Your phone is still in your pocket? Do you still have my old knife in it?

Frisk felt silly for forgetting, and began shifting their hand towards their pocket.

****

Despite having gone for the kill initially, Voldemort had shifted to toying with them. Their few spells had either missed or had no effect, and he was responding with bolts of lightning coming down from above, or jets of flame. The real Voldemort had learned not to waste time when Harry was in his sights, but this one had yet to learn the lesson. Or perhaps it was the only form of resistance Asriel could put up.

"I shall reunite with myself." He was saying. "I shall recover my horcruxes and bring them together. I shall then confront myself, and make him a part of me whether he likes it or not. And then I shall gather six souls of importance, for then no one alive can threaten me!"

"Expulso!"

Hermione had tried something with a little more force. For the first time, Voldemort was blasted back, hitting a wall. He bared his fangs in anger.

"Do not think you are buying a swift end with such gestures, mudblood! I shall make your friends watch you die, and I shall be patient with you! I may even let you scream!"

They hadn't stuck around to hear this threat. They continued to run, past the fake spikes now. They rounded a corner and-

"Here, what's the hurry? Did Asriel destroy it? What happened to-"

"Ron, run!"

"Why, what's THAT THING?!"

Without thinking, Ron shot a stunning spell that rebounded, and only missed because Harry had managed to shove him out of the way. Voldemort appraised his new challenger for a moment.

"You are of noble stock, Blood Traitor. If you surrender now, I may consider sparing you the fate of your shameful family."

"Shove that offer up your-"

A bolt of pure energy knocked Ron off his feet.

"A pity. I hate to shed pure blood."

"Haven't got any of your own to shed, have you?!" Bellowed Harry, partly out of panic for Ron's situation. "You were always a hypocrite. You think your real self's mates are going to listen to someone who isn't even human, let alone a half-blood?"

"They will listen to power. They always have. All ideals bend in the presence of power, especially once I have rejoined my soul." He continued to advance on Ron.

"Really?" Harry was desperate to let Ron get back on his feet. "You think you're the first Horcrux we've dealt with?"

That did the trick. He stopped, and then turned to face Harry. They met each other's gaze, as Ron rejoined Hermione.

"I see. My diary. My ancestor's ring. Even in death, Albus Dumbledore taunts me. No matter, my plans shall adjust. I shall require a seventh soul. And in restitution, I claim that yours shall be the first!"

"Expuls-"

Pain seized Harry. He was yelling uncontrollably. His scar had burst open and spread its pain to his very bones and his skin was pierced and burned and ripped at the same time. A twisted smile revealed plenty of sharp teeth, sharper than those Asgore had bared during his rage.

"It has been so long. I haven't been able to do this since I was separated from myself."

"Stupefy!"

Voldemort had been taking such delight in torturing Harry he hadn't noticed the two spells which hit him in the chest at once. For the first time, he fell to the ground. He wasn't unconscious though, just staggered. As Hermione guided him clear of their horned enemy, Harry dizzily took a chance.

"Sectum-"

"Harry, no! You might kill Asriel!"

A small part of Harry wanted to say that was the point, that they couldn't risk being beaten here, but the moment was lost as Voldemort took flight once again and tried to shower them with fire that Ron's shield charm barely held. And deeper they ran.

****

It's here. I know it.

Frisk moved another rock Voldemort had left alone, and then paused to rub their wrist. The ropes had been tight.

Don't stop. If he leaves the Underground it's too late!

They got back to work. "How are you so sure this is going to help?"

I told you. The course of my life, and beyond, gave me a unique perspective. And I have to make amends. I'm determined to.

Determination was one thing. Frisk understood that. But they were being asked to follow a path they could only see a few steps of, and felt like it could lead to a sheer cliff.

They shifted another rock. "And seeing me made you change your ways?"

I did more than see you. I sensed you.

"Sensed me?"

Yes. I sensed your emotions as you journeyed. You befriended everyone again and again and again. You never got tired of them. You reminded me of how they treated me. And how I repaid them.

"But...but I killed some of them, the first time." Frisk revisited memories they hadn't dwelled on since Asriel returned.

Yes. And it haunts you in a way it never would have haunted me. I did egg you on at first, even if neither of us were quite as aware of each other then.

"And I took away their freedom lots of times!"

You've talked to Sans about that already. You know why you did it.

"For him."

Even that first time, you walked through the entire Underground to try and help him without a second thought. You showed more care to him than I ever did. I chose my pain, and inflicted it on everyone else.

Frisk felt an anguish that complemented their own. "You helped me save him, you know. I couldn't have reached out to him without you."

And it wasn't nearly enough. Maybe this will be.

"I hope the others are okay."

This expression of hope seemed to manifest in a glint of gold coming from the next rock Frisk overturned.

There!

"The...the snitch? How will that help?"

It's not the snitch itself. There's something inside that can do incredible things.

"How do I get at it?"

You don't have to. Remember where you are, where determination can do incredible things.

"So what do you want me to do?"

Concentrate on it. With all your heart. And then focus on him.

Frisk felt like refusal would have dire consequences. "Okay..."

Clutching the snitch tightly in their hands, they concentrated. It was hard, as they didn't know what they were concentrating on. But their confidence had grown after the conversation, and they weren't going to give up now. They closed their eyes so that they wouldn't be distracted. Eventually, they could feel a connection. The snitch began to tremble, and then shake. Whatever was inside was rattling quite fiercely. They could feel it, eager to respond.

Now, focus. Call to him!

Frisk allowed the time spent with him in woods and lakes and beneath the stars to come to the front of their mind. Of late night kitchen raids and sharing smuggled pie with their father. Of sitting in the park just marvelling at the wintry sun. Of talks of plans for the future. And of standing before the shimmering barrier, watching him apologise for the first time in a century and giving him their name. They called out...

And someone came.

A light touch, a very light touch, registered on their shoulder, bringing with it an accompanying reassuring feeling. They opened their eyes and looked. A white hand was resting there, at the end of a green and yellow striped arm. But it wasn't solid. They could make out their own jacket through it.

They turned around slowly, beholding the translucent figure's green eyes and broad smile.

"Howdy!"

****

The hunt had progressed to one of the larger areas of the Ruins. The three of them had emerged here first, and each had chosen a different direction to run. As Voldemort emerged, this meant he had to choose his target, namely Ron, allowing Harry and Hermione to stop and try and coordinate another combined spell as Ron dodged a streak of purple flame. They hadn't quite managed it, and the two sequential stunning spells only succeeded in diverting his attention once again.

"Dumbledore himself could not best me! What are three children capable of doing?"

"Incarcerous!"

Unlike earlier that day, Ron's aim was spot on. Roped erupted from his wand and bound Voldemort tightly. This didn't do much, as a moment later the ropes burst into flames and fell away. He continued to advance on Hermione, so Ron tried a different tactic.

"Diffindo!"

Ron's spell slashed the back of his robes, revealing more of that sickly matted fur. He growled more in annoyance than pain, and stopped advancing. Ron wasn't about to let him turn around.

"Expulso!"

From the angle Ron took, this time the spell slammed Voldemort into the ceiling, dislodging some ancient tiles. This gave Harry an idea.

"Deprimo!"

Copying Hermione's earlier spell, but aiming right above Voldemort. It had the desired effect. Another small cave-in happened, and before Voldemort could react he was buried in rocks.

"Keep moving, it won't hold him long!"

They regrouped and ran again.

"What are we gonna do?" Bellowed Ron. "We can't keep running!"

"There has to be a way to reach Asriel!" Lamented Hermione. "We can't have him caught up in a fight between wizards like this!"

"We don't have time to figure it out." It pained Harry to say it, but it wasn't in his voice. "If he gets past us, or takes one of our souls, we're all dead. We have to fight him now!"

"But Harry-"

"I know!"

As they left the corridor, a dead looking tree, surrounded by leaves, blocked their way. Beyond laid the house that hid the entrance to the Ruins.

"Okay, here's the plan. Get clear of the entrance. The second he comes through, we all stun him at once. And then we..."

He couldn't bring himself to finish the plan. But Hermione and Ron got the gist and nodded. Ron looked even more pained than Hermione did. As they took position, they heard a distant crashing sound. Voldemort must have broken free of his stony tomb, but however the Ruins were shaped, it sounded like it had come from elsewhere. The three of them had their wands raised, ready to strike.

And that was when a solid slab of granite was sliced out of the wall, and swept a path that crashed into all three. Ron and Hermione were knocked to the floor, while Harry careened into the wall, right arm first. There was a sickening crunching sensation and a burning pain as he dully registered that his upper arm was broken. It complemented the pain he had realised was burning in his forehead, and he immediately knew his mistake.

"Stupid boy." Came the triumphant growl. "To think your pitiful ambush could work against Lord Voldemort. He always knows."

As he floated into the yard, three strips of wood flew into his hand. He had seized their wands. And then proceeded to discard them like the twigs they felt like. Ron and Hermione started to crawl towards him. There was a flash of light, and they were both hauled into the air by their ankles. He turned to face Harry.

"Your friends have a great honour. They shall watch me truly exceed what wizards can do. But they shall not join you as a part of me, Potter. I have no use for those who turn their backs on their heritage, or have no heritage to speak of."

Harry found himself levitating towards him, and the menacing claws found purchase on his jacket.

"But of course, you have the greatest honour, as it is you who shall join me. And...ahhhhh." He considered Harry. "And you shall return what is rightfully mine as well."

Harry was in too much pain to ponder these words. But it didn't matter anyway, as he began to feel something in his chest move, trying to leave him. Is this what the victims of the dementors suffered? It was all he could think of to distract from the pain in his arm, the agony on his forehead and what was beginning to feel like a heart attack-

A spear crashed into Voldemort's arm, ripping his robes more and knocking him askew. He let go of Harry, who fell to the ground, landing on his already shattered arm and yelling in pain. Voldemort's hold on Ron and Hermione was broken too, and they crumpled to the ground.

"HEY! What the hell d'ya think you're doing, punk?!"

Harry looked towards the house, the door of which was open. Asgore was standing there, in full armour, flanked by Papyrus and Undyne. Undyne looked like she had just tossed a javelin, and was returning to an upright position as she summoned another one.

Asgore beheld the scene with a pained look. "Asriel...?"

"That name is immaterial to me now, King of Monsters." His snout was full of rage, but his speech was calm. "You should not have come here."

"Son, please..." It was soft, and it was desperate.

"He is beyond your reach. He has no say in my designs. But if his absence pains you so much, I offer an invitation. This body can still take the souls of monsters. Become part of me like you did once before. Lend me your skills, and you may spend eternity with him. All who do not resist me and desire this may do so."

"PRINCE!" Cried Papyrus. "I DO NOT BELIEVE THIS IS AN INVITATION YOU DESIRE TO SEE ACCEPTED!"

The red eyes met the blank sockets. There was cruel contempt on the off-white snout. "I have a different offer for you, skeleton. Even when I have recalled my Death Eaters, I shall need some monster representatives. I offer you the position of herald. You may speak in my name. No monster who submits shall be harmed, and you shall serve me as I rule both Monster and Wizard. If you desire, you may even call yourself the 'Captain of the Royal Guard'."

Undyne shot Papyrus a look of disbelief and annoyance.

"THAT...IS ACTUALLY TEMPTING, WIZARD-WHO-IS-POSSESSING-ASRIEL. I WOULDN'T WANT TO SEE SANS GET HURT JUST BECAUSE HE'S SO LAZY."

Everyone looked on in shock. The contempt was twisting into desire and triumph.

"So you swear fealty to Lord Voldemort?"

A gloved hand stroke his chin. "I THINK...I THINK...I think that you..." His voice had gotten really soft.

"Say it." Came the impatient growl.

PING.

Voldemort slammed to the ground.

"I THINK THAT YOU'RE BLUE NOW! NYEH HEH HEH!!! YOU'VE BEEN JAPED BY THE GREAT PAP-"

A bolt of lightning, giving off rainbow coloured sparks, slammed into Papyrus, who in turned slammed into the wall. Voldemort got to his feet, apparently unable to take flight. A small, darkly orange but shockingly hot flame appeared in his palm.

"Consider my offer rescinded. And thank the mudblood over there for how you shall die."

The flame left his hand, swelling rapidly and taking the shape of a dragon's skull. But just as it looked like it could swallow the whole house, it began to shrink again. It steered away from Papyrus, into the large hands of Asgore, who took the Fiendfyre in its entirity and contracted it into a tiny sphere. With a small effort, the flames vanished.

"You...you shall release my son!" He roared, every bit as enraged as he had been at Toriel's house. With a red flash, Asgore's menacing trident appeared.

"You shall die attempting to make me."

He raised his arm, but suddenly had to shift, sending the flash of green light rushing into the ceiling. Undyne had begun to rain down more spears at him. By the time he had cast a shield charm, Asgore had closed the distance, trying to trip him up. It was an impressive double maneuver, born of a decade of drilling and practice. Asgore disrupting his attempts to cast a spell by striking directly, Undyne shutting down any attempt he made to put some distance between them. It was apparent she had learned from her sparring match with Hermione, and discussed this with Asgore.

In the meantime, Ron and Hermione had picked up their wands. Unable to cast a spell in case it hit Asgore, they had instead headed over to where Harry still knelt. Hermione conjured another splint, but Harry could tell it hadn't done much good, as his landing had aggravated the break severely. But the pain was dulled enough that he could think.

"If Asgore is beaten, we stun him." They nodded.

"Asriel, please!" Cried Asgore as he launched a sweeping strike. "You must be able to resist this!"

Voldemort ignored him, except to continue dodging. "If you - intend to keep - fighting this way - then I shall have to - oblige."

In his hand, a large saber with an emerald-encrusted hilt appeared, and he immediately struck. Asgore hadn't expected it, and it slashed across his heavy armour as he attempted to dodge. The armour did its final duty however, and although the breastplate fell apart, the flowery shirt underneath was unharmed. Voldemort went on the attack now, striking with amazing speed considering the weight of his weapon. Asgore's trident was long enough however that defence was easy. There were deafening clangs and sparks as the two weapons clashed repeatedly, Asgore moving almost as fast as his possessed son.

"I grow tired of this. If you will not join-"

He gave a great overhead strike, and Harry was able to make out a dark orange flame covering the edge of the blade. Asgore blocked with the middle of his trident, but this time it broke in two, and promptly vanished. While he registered what had happened, Voldemort raised his free hand and the King began to howl in agony.

"You should have submitted."

A blue spear caught the raised hand, and he growled in pain. It was Undyne's turn to close the gap. He tried to cast a spell, but a series of bones were cascading down. Papyrus had recovered, and was now taking the place of Undyne as she took the place of Asgore.

"Kid, I know you weren't ready to spar yet, but that doesn't matter! I'll kick your ass if it stops you doing something you'll regret!"

"You are speaking to the wrong person. I shall not regret this!"

Undyne was faster than Asgore, but her strikes weren't quite as strong. She could meet each slash from the saber easy enough, but the force behind each swing along threatened to disarm her. In seeing her difficulty, Papyrus had abandoned the long range and was moving in, an avalanche of bones pouring in surprisingly fast. It was all Voldemort could do to block them with a shield charm. Papyrus then conjured an extra long bone and wielded it like a sword as he-

"ENOUGH!!!"

There was a blast like a cannon, and all three monsters were thrown back. Where Undyne and Papyrus landed, the rocky ground rose up and cuffed their limbs.

"NGAHHH!!! LET ME GO!"

Asgore was offered no such consideration.

"I am a fool, toying with you! Hear the words that will snuff out your life, sentimental old goat!"

The three wizards raised their wands.

"Avada-"

"Stupef-"

"ASRIEL!!!"

The shout distracted everyone, when by all means it shouldn't have. Those who could move turned to see Frisk standing to the left of the corridor.

"Frisk, no!" Cried Asgore. "Get back, he's too-"

"You are brave for a muggle, child. A fool, but you are br- Wait. Who is that?"

Harry could not see who he was talking about. Frisk stood quite alone.

"How could you be here? No, stay back!"

Voldemort fired off more flashes of green light. But not at Frisk, at the path between them, getting progressively closer towards him. Harry didn't know what to make of it, the pain in his arm was so distracting.

Seen only by Frisk, a pair of white fuzzy paws continued to run, unaffected by the killing curses. He bore down on his target and leapt up-

"Unh!"

Voldemort clutched his chest for a long moment. But then he recovered.

"I do not know what you thought that would accomplish, muggle. But you have irked me for the last time."

He raised his hand-

"No!"

"Frisk!"

"PRINCE!"

The assorted shouts appeared to have stayed the building curse. Voldemort continued to stare at Frisk with rage and hatred, but his hand slowly began to tremble. The scarlet eyes were still furious, but the snarl melted into a grimace of resolve.

"No..." He said softly. "No! I won't let you!"

Frisk's look of determination was complemented by a glint of unmistakable hope in their eyes.

"Urgh!" Voldemort clutched his head. "This...feeling..."

Asgore had gotten to his feet. "Asriel?"

The name caused physical pain. Voldemort began to scream.

"NO! You cannot best me! Your pitiful feelings shall not- Frisk, I-"

And it was then that Harry understood. Whatever Frisk had done had allowed Asriel to fight back. He was trying to become agony towards Voldemort. And he thought back to the most likely explanation for this.

"If there is one thing Lord Voldemort cannot understand, it is love...it was agony to touch a person marked by something so good...in the end, it was your heart that saved you..."

And monsters are made of compassion, mercy...and love.

"Harry?!"

He felt the stab of pain in his arm with each stride as he sprinted towards the struggling monster. Before anyone could react, he thrust his uninjured hand onto Voldemort's face. His scar burned with agony, and his vision was swimming, but he was ready, and began to concentrate like he was about to conjure the mightiest patronus as the memories began to swirl.

He was standing with Hagrid, looking awestruck at Diagon Alley...his friends were visiting him in the hospital wing...the emerald banners turned scarlet...Ginny was rising from the slick wet floor...Professor Lupin was reassuring him that he wasn't weak...he seized the snitch from Malfoy, temporarily deaf to the explosion of cheering...Ron was in the medical tent, struggling with how to apologise...his parents whispered instructions to him as he faced down Voldemort...Fred and George were making a daring escape...he sat under a tree by the lake, Ginny's hand held firmly in his...

It was all he could do to concentrate on every positive thing in his life. He screwed up his face to defy the pain of his forehead. He was filled with determination.

He was vaguely aware of a figure standing next to him. Their smaller arm couldn't reach the face, but their hand rested on his chest. New memories swam across Harry's mind, as he realised that Frisk had understood what he was doing and come to help.

Toriel was guiding them along the spikes...shaking hands with Sans yielded quite the surprise...Papyrus was introducing them to Undyne...Alphys was inspecting Mettaton's body and apologising...Asgore was perfecting the human bush in his garden as iced tea cooled them down...they were hugging him before where the barrier had stood, refusing to let go...

And both of them, actually all three of them, were staring down at the bed of flowers, helping a wounded child get to their feet.

Harry's connection to Voldemort's shattered soul finally broke. Surprisingly he had stayed upright. Hoping he had done enough to encourage Asriel, he gripped Frisk's shoulder and ushered them back, and then raised his wand in his left hand just in case.

"You cannot best- I won't let you- I am Lord- Never again- AAHHHHHHHHH!"

The body had lost all control, and had given way to agonised shrieking. It was then that Harry saw it. The sickly red heart with a black outline, just as cracked as it had been. It was trembling, and the trembling soon became violent shuddering. It was clearly trying to stay in the body, but the forces Harry and Frisk had helped unleash were now agony to it.

"I- AM-"

Finally, it was too much. The heart erupted from his chest, and shone with a red light. Having spent too much time trying to hold on, its ability to stay intact without a horcrux was spent. With another faint scream, it continued to shudder ever faster, until at long last, it shattered into pieces.

The body it departed was clutching his head, but all movement had stopped. And then the top of his head began to dissolve. For a moment, Harry felt a stab of horror, as he remembered what a dying monster looked like. But as the body continued to collapse, a second one was revealed inside.

Harry appraised him as the other combatants began to approach, Undyne having summoned a spear to break her and Papyrus' shackles. Asriel's white fur seemed to shine in the depths of the ruins after his other form's matted look. He was wearing the clothes he had when he destroyed the locket. But he looked different. It took Harry a moment to realise why. He had grown a good six inches taller than he had been before, somehow making up for lost time. His wrists and ankles were clearly visible, beyond the cover of his clothes, and a belt of white fur now existed between his t-shirt and his trousers. He then proceeded to open his eyes. They were as green as they had always been, but now they looked utterly exhausted. And perhaps something else, Harry couldn't make it out.

Frisk could contain themselves no longer. They launched forward again, and enveloped him in another hug, tears silently dampening his jacket. Harry could see that Frisk had got their wish, Asriel was taller than them by a few inches now.

He gave a shuddering breath, and his eyes dully regarded the figure hugging him.

"Ch...Chara...?"

He promptly fainted.

****

He was standing in a dark cavern. He recognised it from when a great shimmering barrier had once bisected it. At the far end was an entryway framed with the Delta Rune above it. A bright light was glowing from it, a light he felt he had never been able to appreciate before. But before that was a small patch of grass, illuminated by a stray beam of sunlight from above.

And in that grass, a flower turned to face him.

"Howdy."

He considered the flower a moment.

"This is a dream, isn't it?"

Flowey rolled his eyes. "Bra-vo, kid."

Absently he inspected his hands, to make sure he still had them. "It's a strange one."

Leaves at his stem were twitching, looking almost like a shrug. "It's your dream. Guess that makes you the weird one."

"You know what I mean. In my dreams, either I'm me, or I'm you, or I'm me and turn into you, or the other way round. We've never met face to face before."

"Well we did meet when that locket reminded you of all the stuff you did."

Asriel got a little annoyed. "So what does this mean?"

"Come on, you don't remember?"

He tried to process what had happened.

"I was standing in front of Mom's old house. But I was also standing next to Frisk. And then I saw myself run at me, while I was also running towards me. And there were a lot of memories. I don't think all of them were mine. And someone was shouting, and I was shouting, and a burden seemed to disappear. And then I got hugged."

"Eh, close enough. How do you feel?"

Asriel raised an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't care about that stuff."

Flowey's turn to look annoyed. "It's called self interest, idiot. Now answer my question."

He took a long time to ponder the question.

"I feel...like me. That in spite of everything, it's still me."

That last sentence did not feel like it came from him, but he found it comforting all the same. Flowey mock-exhaled in disappointment. "Yep. That'll be the soul."

"A soul? Whose soul? I don't want-"

"Relax, Frisk didn't murder anybody. It's yours. For real. The one you were born with."

Somehow, he knew Flowey was right. "But how did they-"

"Hey, I'm just a figment of your imagination. Soul retrieval's not my department."

He placed a hand over his chest. He could feel it. Just like the night Chara died. Of all the emotions he could have felt, relief seemed to win out.

"So does this mean we're separate people now?"

Flowey laughed derisively. "Wow, you suck at this! Of course we're still the same person! The only difference is you have something extra. It's actually a pretty special little extra. Can't say I'm not jealous."

"So what happens now?"

"Well, ya could stay in here and we could shoot the breeze. But I betcha that'd get old fast, since we already know everything about each other. You probably want the other thing. Go through that door there, and wake up."

He looked beyond Flowey. The light through the doorway was warm and inviting. He could make out silhouettes. But he didn't want to go just yet.

"Not budging? Wow, I didn't know you were so fond of little old me!" He stuck out his tongue in jest.

"It's not that." He trembled a little. "I'm afraid."

"Ohhhh. I get it. That locket sure kept me quiet for nine months. You were on quite the bender, and now you're gonna wake up with an enormous hangover."

"I'm not supposed to know what a bender or a hangover is!"

"And that's how you know I'm still a part of you. You can't unlearn what I learned."

He seized his ears and was twisting them.

"Hey, HEY! Asriel, listen up. Didn't you say it to Frisk earlier? You have to wake up. And it's not like it's all bad. I bet Mom has a pie just sitting there. And maybe you can have a proper shot at making it up to everybody you hurt."

"But I can't. You know I can't. Wait, why do you care?"

"As a figment of your imagination, I can't be relied on to be one hundred percent accurate to the real thing. I think really I'm just someone for you to talk to."

Asriel chuckled a little. And then slowly made his way to the doorway. The silhouettes were clearer, two large ones and a smaller one. He paused a moment, and turned back to Flowey.

"I...I guess this is goodbye."

"Goodbye?! Hah! You think because you can properly appreciate a hug again that I'm gone? Doesn't work that way, Prince. You were me for too long. You may want to be nice and stuff, but my habits and instincts are there too. I bet you hate that, but you gotta work with them."

"You mean I have to be you-"

He shook his stem in annoyance. "No, you idiot. It's like what Dad told you. I'm a part of you. What we did is a part of you. You better not pretend it isn't. You can try and practice being your kind self if that's what you want, but if you ignore me, I'll come up when you least want me to."

Asriel pondered this. "Then why don't you come with me? Complete this, I don't know, symbolism or whatever?"

Flowey now looked emotionless. "You've made your choice, really. 'Don't kill and don't be killed', right?" Asriel nodded. "Then I'm not gonna rain on your parade. Not intentionally anyway. Just don't forget me, okay?"

"...okay." He turned to the doorway.

"I have a question though."

He turned back. "What is it?"

"This hangover or big emotional whatever you're about to have. Think you can really cope with it?"

It was a fair question, given how last time it happened he hadn't been particularly successful. He looked down, and rested his hand on his chest.

"I don't know, honestly. I'm game for trying though. There's a couple of differences this time. First of all, I'm not alone."

"Yeah, yeah, Frisk and the power of friendship, big whoop. What's the other difference?"

"That I'm not alone."

An eyebrow approached his upper petals. "Uhh, did you go on an actual bender while I wasn't looking?"

"Nah. Last time, I just had my feelings. Now I have my soul again. I can feel it. It wants to help me get through this."

Flowey whistled, being mock-impressed. "Wowie, does that guy have no idea about the tangled mess of a kid he's signed up for."

He chuckled again. "Heh, yeah. I'm still scared. But I want to go home. I broke Mom and Dad's hearts twice already. I can't do that again."

"Don't write checks you can't cash, kid. Determination can only take you so far."

His expression drooped a little. "Yeah. And that's more Frisk's department. I'll fall back on love."

His tongue was out again, this time in disgust. "Ugh, don't remind me of that dreck Alphys watches."

"It's not that bad when you can care about the characters."

"Yeah, well, tall order for me. I think I've kept you long enough, in one way or another. Go enjoy life or whatever. Oh, and some of those memories you have may be of interest to Harry. You might wanna discuss them with him."

"What memories?"

"You'll figure it out." And Flowey was gone.

He considered the doorway a while. He was still afraid. But the three silhouettes were telling him it would be okay. And two presences, one from within, one from without, reassured him that he could do this. So he walked into the warm light, and marvelled at the sun...

The dream ended. He had awakened. There was a faint smell of pie.