Chapter 1

"Mm!" Quietly escaped from my lips, as soon as consciousness found at least some form.

It was hard, my head was buzzing wildly, and there was a throbbing pain in my temples. The usual weakness from exhaustion was felt all over my body, and the magic was literally going crazy, trying to tear me apart from the inside. Filthy feeling…

Are these really the consequences of the ritual?... What kind of ritual? The ritual of creating a horcrux! A horcrux? AAAAA! What's happening to me!? Where does this duality come from and what the fuck is wrong with my mind?.... I need to tell my mother…

Thoughts then jumped, tearing the mind with questions and contradictions, then flowed like water in a stagnant swamp. And not only thoughts, there was something wrong with memory, too. Such habitual sufferings in the orphanage were constantly echoed by spots of vivid memories of a happy life with his mother and father. Eternal hunger, fights and spontaneous children's emissions, right in the midst of my beating, were replaced by fun races on children's brooms, and then spontaneous emissions due to defeat in the race…

What's happening to me?

It was this question that served as a kind of trigger that plunged my mind into a state of deep meditation. Almost seven years of studying occlumency and legilimency have not been in vain for me, and the obvious talent in mental magic affects. Some things I did just be reflex… Although some part of my mind was firmly convinced that he had no talent in occlumency, but I would have turned out just fine as a healer or potion maker. At least that's what Uncle Snape said... AAAH!

Another mental howl drove all unnecessary thoughts out of my head, but I was finally able to take up scanning my own mind and memory. And even though it was a little harder than usual, the magic itself didn't seem to understand what I wanted from it, but the experience doesn't disappear without a trace. Even in such a rotten situation, I was able to immerse myself in the halls of my own mind…

And I wish I hadn't done that. To go completely mad, or even just die, would be much more humane to yourself. Two minds, forcibly fused together, created just wild chaos in my mental sphere. Hundreds of nightmares, complexes, fears, illusions, and contradictions have crawled out of their holes, seeking to destroy the ruins that remained after the merger of minds.

Yes, now I understand that I am no longer me, but someone new. There was a merger, rough and violent, of two minds… As well as fragments of something obviously superfluous and alien to both my donors. It's hard to understand what exactly, but I don't like it in absentia.

Draco Malfoy is a recent Slytherin freshman who has been back home to his parents for a month now. The heir of a rich and ancient magical family that inherited a considerable talent for magic from his ancestors ... Taking from them some very useful gifts and one nasty curse, the rest somehow managed to wash his parents, even before the guy was born. It was this child who served as my donor. It is in his body that, judging by the echoes of sensations from the outside, I am now. Yeah, the kid literally gave me everything he had. And mind, and body, and magic.

Tom Riddle is a seventh–year student of Slytherin a monitor who has achieved amazing influence at the faculty, despite the fact that he himself is a half-breed. He spent his entire adult life in a shelter, and for the last few years, also in a bomb shelter. The constant raids of German bombers drove the orphanage children, and not only, into the London Underground… A real genius from magic and just an extremely smart guy. Well, apparently not smart enough, since he turned out to be my second donor.

From him, I got most of the mind, it is with him, to a greater extent, that I associate myself, a significant part of magic and a real treasure trove of useful information. Only the information obtained by Tom in the room of requirement helped me to sort out the situation somehow.

Hmm... a difficult situation, especially when it comes to self-determination. I'm sure I wouldn't be able to say who exactly I am under the potion of truth right now. I am Draco Malfoy in body, in mind… Is Tom Riddle to a greater extent, magic? I'm not sure. The riot of energy that is now taking place in my body is very remotely similar to what it was before. Most likely, my magic is a mixture of the magic of my two donors. It sounds logical, but how this is possible, I imagine very vaguely.

And it doesn't make it any easier. My mind is literally bursting at the seams, and magic is almost out of control. Only the steely will that I inherited from Tom helps to keep all this at least in some stability. We need to do something urgently… But there is only one way out – a complete fusion of personalities.

I need to relive both of my donors' lives, not go crazy and calm my own magic, otherwise my body may not be able to withstand such pressure. An impossible task, to be honest. And my Self, in that case, will simply disappear. Someone else will appear… Not just a stub of two personalities, but a full-fledged mind that absorbed the characteristics of both donors.

Not a very happy prospect, but the alternatives are even worse. The last thing I want is to disappear without a trace, leaving only a drooling body in reality. So it's decided! We need to start collecting that wild mosaic called "mind". I hope I will create an adequate personality, and not a magician who flew off the cutting. Considering all Tom's skills and abilities, it can become very dangerous for others… Apparently, my "good" part from Draco is against such an outcome. It will be necessary to drive this part far away, otherwise kindness will definitely make me, if not a fanatic, then it will definitely fixate on some "higher" goal… Too long ago, this purely useless thing disappeared from Tom's mind.

Gathering my strength and consulting the library from Tom's mind, I set to work. Fortunately, someone is already trying to help me outside. The parents of the boy Draco, most likely, noticed what happened and called a medical doctor. It's good. Now I can be sure that nothing will happen to my body. Well, most likely.

Hmm. I must not forget to shove into a separate "daddy" those "alien fragments" that stuck to my mind, like plaque to my teeth. Let the future Me deal with it. Well, I don't want to get into this stuff. I'll pick up something else bad, and in the end it can go to my future self…

***

For the next few hours, the Malfoys and their family healer could observe a truly terrifying picture. The body of a fragile and refined boy of twelve years wildly arched at completely unreal angles, made some poorly connected, but very loud sounds. And the whole picture was complemented by minute-by-minute spontaneous outbursts of magic of terrifying power.

And no one, even a very experienced and strong healer, could somehow help him. Standard methods did not work, and there was not enough time to prepare for non-standard ones. And it was almost impossible to understand what was going on with the boy. Constant outbursts of magic knocked down any diagnostic charms and rituals. Too fine weaves of magic were weak in front of brute force and the pressure of energy, of which the boy had even too much.