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Chapter Text

It was over: he could not see or hear where Voldemort was; he glimpsed another Death Eater swooping out of the way and heard,

"Avada-"

And that's when it happened. Harry's vision shifted.

He was no longer on the motorbike. Instead Harry was somewhere high above, watching as his body, Hagrid and the bike plunged towards the ground. Harry tried to move his arm, to turn his head, but his limbs refused to react. Harry could only watch as he remained disconnected from his body.

Harry's new perspective was steady in comparison, eyes narrowing and wand lowering.

It was only due to the searing pain splintering through Harry's head, did Harry find himself slipping out of Voldemort's mind and back into his own. Harry's fingers were shaking as he fumbled with the steering, Hagrid's limp body was hanging over the handlebars, making it impossible to manoeuvre.

Harry barely heard Voldemort's high pitch voice. His head was spinning, and it left him no time to react as Voldemort's spell struck him squarely on the chest.

In an instant, the plummeting sensation in Harry's gut halted. Now, only ice cold was running through his every being, creeping to the depths of his mind. Harry opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

Harry slammed his eyes shut. He was going to die.

Harry couldn't move and all the he could see was a dim light flickering behind his eyelids. His limbs were frozen, locked shut as his chest rose and fell sharply. The wind no longer tickled his skin, but that offered little comfort as his body remained numb and unresponsive.

The only real sensation was Voldemort's overwhelming presence, flooding his mind and cutting deep into Harry's soul. Harry was losing grip on consciousness, but simultaneously his vision was coming into a sharp focus.

For the second time that night, Harry found himself out of his own body.

Voldemort was standing over him in silence, wand spinning slowly as Harry's body floated above a large wooden table. Death Eaters surrounded him, waiting expectantly for their Lord to finish what should have been done all those years ago.

Harry groaned as he was dragged back into his own body.

"Be quiet, Potter."

Harry opened his eyes, only to be greeted by blurry shadows.

"The Veritaserum," Voldemort said.

Instinctively Harry locked his jaw shut, but he couldn't turn his head to see the approaching figure. Instead, Harry could only hear the dim mutterings and rustles from the surrounding Death Eaters.

Droplets burned his lips and Harry spluttered, coughing as a sharp coolness ran down his throat.

"The Prophecy?" Voldemort said.

Harry's mouth moved automatically. His own voice seemed distant and unrecognisable as the words spilled out.

And then there was silence.

Voldemort spoke again, his voice so terribly soft as Harry's scar prickled.

"Do you know what you are?"

Harry's mind spun, but he felt his mouth answer the question he did not understand.

"No," Harry said.

And for the first time Harry felt a true jolt of fear, he didn't understand what Voldemort meant.

Strangely though, Voldemort seemed satisfied with his answer. The Death Eaters around the room shifted.

"The antidote," Voldemort said.

A blurry Death Eater stepped forwards, grabbing Harry chin as he shoved a bottle to his lips. Harry coughed, but at least he could feel the control returning to his mouth.

It happened as soon as the Death Eater stepped away. Harry's invisible bonds broke, and Harry fell hard onto the table beneath, hissing as he head slammed onto the wood.

The Death Eaters laughed as Harry stumbled to his feet, squinting as he tried to make out the room. At least his scar was an indication for Voldemort's direction. Holding himself steady Harry faced Voldemort, and pulled himself straight. He removed his hand from his burning head.

"Kill me then," Harry said as coldly and as calmly as he could. Death couldn't be that painful he thought dully.

A blurry Voldemort raised his wand, but no incantation came. Instead, Harry's vision cleared, his glasses pulling Voldemort into a sharp focus.

"You are no use to me dead, Potter," Voldemort said.

The room stilled and the Death Eaters stopped sniggering. Harry frowned, his heart thumping uncontrollably.

"Didn't think so a moment a go?" he said.

Voldemort mouth curled into a very sharp smile.

"Circumstances change."

Harry's heart must have missed a beat.

"What circumstances?" he said.

Voldemort didn't answer; instead he turned aside to address his Death Eaters.

Knowing he wasn't going to get an answer, Harry followed Voldemort's attention. Most Death Eaters were masked but Harry couldn't help but raise his eyebrows as he saw a familiar Slytherin. Draco Malfoy was standing beside his father, and he didn't look very healthy. His already pale skin seemed to be practically white. Malfoy wouldn't meet his gaze.

"How many dead, Yaxley?" Voldemort said.

"Just Moody, Snape might have killed one of the copycats," Yaxley said. "The giant might be dead too, he fell quite a way."

"Good," Voldemort said.

It was if all the breath had been knocked sharply from Harry's body. Moody was dead. Harry's head was spinning, he didn't want to consider Hagrid's death.

"Which copycat?" Harry asked, his stomach twisting into a painful knot.

Yaxley hesitated but Voldemort only nodded.

"The one with the werewolf," Yaxley said.

George Weasley.

Harry gripped the table, legs already weak, but ready to give way. He didn't want to show any weakness, but he couldn't stop shaking. Yaxley had just been speculating, George couldn't be dead. Voldemort's red eyes were fixed on Harry, almost expectantly as if Harry would answer who the copycat had been.

A scream pierced the room, echoing from downstairs.

Other Death Eaters sniggered again, looking eagerly at Harry, but Voldemort only looked annoyed. The scream echoed again, and Harry had a funny feeling that if Voldemort wasn't going to kill him, he would be joining them downstairs soon.

Voldemort drew something from up his sleeve. Harry's wand. Harry started forwards, but Voldemort only had to nod once.

"Crucio."

Harry dropped to the floor, pain consuming as his body burned. It was unrelenting agony, flooding through every nerve as he screamed. Everything was constricting, he couldn't breath.

The curse lifted, but Harry's limbs remained numb and trembling. It took so much effort to pull himself up, ears burning from the Death Eaters laughter.

Voldemort hadn't been paying attention, he was still examining Harry's wand, twirling it around carefully in his hand.

"Get Ollivander," he said.

A Death Eaters bowed low and left the room.

Harry watched as the large doors shut. There really was no way out, not when Death Eaters grinned maliciously from behind their masks from every corner.

Harry heard the another yelp from downstairs. Harry didn't know what else to do. He might not get another chance. There was little he could do to help the wand maker.

Harry had barely considered running, making a break for it when the door reopened, when Voldemort flicked Harry's own wand. Harry jumped as something cold clasped tightly around his right ankle. Looking down he saw a heavy chain protruded from the ground now fastened securely to his ankle.

The large door opened again, as Harry glared at Voldemort.

"Leave us," Voldemort said.

The Death Eaters were obviously disappointed, but they obeyed, marching out of the room silently.

Ollivander looked so much older then Harry had remembered. He was shaking, covered in dirt and he limped heavily across the other side of the table from Harry. He winced as he cowered before Voldemort.

Voldemort passed Ollivander Harry's wand silently. Ollivander didn't need to look at it properly, even though the light was dim he gasped in shock his voice dry.

"This is Harry Potter's wand."

He then glanced around the room and his gaze came to rest on Harry.

"Oh my dear boy," he said, pity in his eyes.

Harry didn't know what to say, he was concentrating on how he could get his wand, he doubted he would get very far. Perhaps Ollivander would throw it. Harry shifted forwards slightly his heart racing.

However, Ollivander did no such thing, he merely muttered something Harry didn't hear as he passed the wand back to Voldemort. Harry gritted his teeth, he had missed one of the few opportunities he was ever going to get.

"Dark magic lingers in this wand," Ollivander said gravely.

"It does not," Harry said.

He stepped forwards only for the shackle to tighten and the chain to constrict. He stopped short frustrated, glaring at Ollivander.

"I'm afraid it does, Mr Potter," Ollivander said. "Your wands collided, did they not?"

Harry glanced at Voldemort who was now watching Harry intently. Harry ignored him and nodded stiffly.

"It seems that power from the Dark Lords own wand emanated into your own," Ollivander said.

Harry who was rather attached to his wand, felt his heart sink.

"Of course," Ollivander said, a look of wonder crossing his old face. "It is still a normal wand. However, yielded by the Dark Lord it will embrace him."

"What are you on about?" Harry said.

"The wand chooses the wizard, Mr Potter," Ollivander paused as if the whole concept was fascinating. "And your wand has changed allegiance."

Harry remembered how much he hadn't liked Ollivander in the first place.

Voldemort seemed to be done with the wand maker for he nodded towards the one remaining Death Eater, who pulled Ollivander from the room. Harry was sure the old wizard had gone mad, as Ollivander was muttering, "Curious, very curious," as he was dragged out.

And then they were alone.

Harry stared coldly at Voldemort whose thin lips curved into a frightening smile. Something really had changed.

"Why aren't I dead?" Harry asked again.

Voldemort stepped closer.

Harry held his ground as Voldemort stopped right in front of him. Voldemort only raised Harry's own wand again and pointed it directly at Harry's head. Harry knew the killing curse wasn't coming and surprisingly that scared him more. He didn't know what to expect.

Voldemort moved Harry's wand, parting his hair out of the way to reveal his scar. Harry didn't move, he wasn't going to let Voldemort have the satisfaction.

And then Harry's head erupted.

Harry couldn't see. His vision was foggy as he staggered, grasping his head. His lungs compressed as he struggled. Harry fell to his knees desperate for oxygen. His head pressing in on itself, his very soul on fire. Voldemort's presence was stronger than ever. It was consuming him, it was him.

Harry's mind was tearing apart. One half, Harry, the other, Lord Voldemort pushing down on his very soul. Everything was heavy, twisted and suffocating.

Harry tried to concentrate, scrambled to bring the images of Ron and Hermione into his head but he couldn't. Voldemort was too strong. Voldemort was in control.

"So weak, Harry," Harry heard his own mouth say, felt his own mouth curving into a cruel smile.

NO. Harry thought, he would not be controlled. Yet he could feel his own body moving as if under a spell. His vision was blurry, the pain still relentless. Hedwig, Moody, Hagrid, George. Harry threw them up in his head, the grief and pain so overwhelming that he fell back into control.

Harry was on the floor as Voldemort stood directly in front of him. Voldemort had possessed him.

Harry didn't look up, this time not bothering to stand tall, he spoke from the floor.

"Just kill me," Harry spat. This wasn't part of the deal. Harry had always expected death.

Voldemort did not reply. Instead he flicked Harry's wand towards the door.

It opened and Yaxley moved in and bowed.

"Yaxley," Voldemort said. "Take Potter downstairs."

Yaxley stepped towards Harry who still hadn't moved. Raising his wand Yaxley pointed towards the door.

"Move, Potter."

Harry forced himself to stand. He didn't want to obey but the thought of being away from Voldemort gave him strength. Frustrated, Harry forced himself up, legs shaking. The shackle fell from his ankle.

Voldemort wasn't looking in his direction as Harry followed Yaxley. Harry didn't understand, what could possible have stopped Voldemort from killing him. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Ginny was standing in the doorway.

Inside it was too claustrophobic, with everyone jostling around trying to distract themselves from the screaming absence of Harry and Hagrid.

George was better now, they had managed to stem his wound and his ear was now wrapped up in fresh bandage. Moody's death was lingering, and the very possibility that he wasn't the only one to die tonight was resting heavily in the air.

Ginny couldn't bring herself to move away from the door. She had to see that Harry was safe. He had to be late, after all nearly everyone had missed their portkeys.

Ginny could hear frantic whispers from inside. She didn't know who was talking but she didn't particularly care.

There was nothing for another ten minutes. Ginny only turned her gaze away from the empty lawn as Remus appeared beside her.

"I'm going to find them," he said.

Remus walked out across the garden and vanished.

Tonks moved to stand next to her. Ginny knew Ron and Hermione were sitting quietly together. Ron obviously muttering words of comfort to Hermione who was just staring blankly ahead.

"He'll be okay," Tonks said quietly "He always is."

But something felt wrong, Ginny couldn't hold back her worry. Each second lasted an age.

A loud crack announced Remus's return.

Ginny ran forwards, recoiling in horror as she saw Remus's anguished face. Tonks followed, coming to a halt beside her.

"Hagrid's pretty bad, he fell pretty far. He's being fixed up at the moment," Remus said.

Ginny bit her lip, voice failing her.

"Harry?" Tonks said, voice breaking.

Remus looked devastated as he just shook his head.

"Gone."

Ginny fell to her knees as her heart broke. Tonks caught her by the shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug. Tears fell down Ginny's face, uncontrollable and desperate. Harry couldn't be gone. He just couldn't.

Remus's return had clearly alerted the others, but as Ron and Hermione dashed outside, Remus' face and Ginny's fallen body was all the information they needed.

"No," Hermione screamed.

It cut through Ginny, sharp and painful.

Ron was clinging to Hermione, trying to hold her still as she punched him hard on the shoulder, sobbing as she fell into his arms. Ron's face said it all. He was lost. He hadn't even contemplated Harry dying. They all knew he couldn't possible be alive.

"Come on," Remus said his voice hollow. "Get inside."

Ginny let Tonks steer her into the house as Ron and Hermione followed.

Tonks passed her gently to her mother, but it didn't help as she too was shaking in grief.

The twins were completely silent as Fred sat close to George. Ginny couldn't bear her mothers tears, or Hermione and Ron's broken faces. Yet she couldn't move, she couldn't force herself to run away.

Nothing would ever be okay again. Harry was gone. A fresh wave of tears rolled down her face as she heard noises in the garden, nobody stirred as her father and Bill entered the house.

Ginny didn't look up, she didn't have to.

"No," her father's voice cut through her painfully as he barely whispered. "Harry?"

No one answered, they didn't have too. Ginny could now hear Flur crying, she must have embraced Bill because her sobs were now muffled.

Kingsley moved across the room and waved his wand. Ginny watched as a full glass of something floated in front of her.

She didn't want it, whatever it was wasn't going to help.

"To Harry and Alastor."

Ginny struggled to find her voice and she took the glass.

"Harry," she whispered as she threw the liquid down her throat. It burned but she relished the pain.

Harry had been locked in the darkened room for well over an hour. He couldn't see properly and his head was pulsing from Voldemort's spurious emotions. Harry had spent most of the time feeling his way around cautiously in the dark.

Voldemort hadn't killed him. It made no sense. Harry should have been long dead by now, but here he was very much alive, not even injured.

Harry still wasn't sure who had gotten to their respective safe houses. Moody's death was still sitting painfully in his stomach. Harry couldn't get his guilt nor his grief to diminish. And Harry had no indication whether Hagrid and George were alive.

It was a long time before Harry hunched himself down in the corner, body aching for sleep. It was going to be a long night.

One thing was certain though, the Death Eaters had been waiting for them to emerge. He tried to think back on what had happened but found it hard to piece things together.

He couldn't imagine what the others would be going through, would they even know he was alive. At least Ron and Hermione knew what had to be done. It was up to them now.

Harry's eyes had hardly accustomed to the dark and he could still only make out faint outlines of the room. He felt his stomach twist uncomfortable, how long was he going to stay in this rotting dungeon. That itself didn't make any sense, why would Voldemort put him down here and let him rot away when he could just destroy him.

Voldemort must be planning something and Harry was going to make sure he got away before he found out what.

Voldemort stood deadly still, his mind calculating the nights events. The boy. Everything made sense now. He had been ignorant to not spot it before.

They had always shared a disturbingly close link. The fact that the boy was a parselmouth should have been an indication enough. Voldemort had felt Potter slip into his mind, latching on in desperation as his life was about to end. Voldemort had always shared a strong connection with his Horcrux's, they were a part of him.

Voldemort's thoughts wondered back to the prophecy, "The Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal," This in itself explained as much, the boy lived with his own soul attached.

Nagini hissed on the floor in anger.

Seven Horcrux's, although the diary had been destroyed and Potter would be a huge reliability. Voldemort had wanted seven, they would bind him to life with the most power. To create one Horcrux was dangerous enough but to create seven he had pushed the limits of magic. He dare not create another, nor would he part with a single one.

Potter would have to live, but the boy could never find out the truth. He would have to be controlled.

Voldemort would have to break Potter in a way that would not endanger his Horcrux. He had possessed Potter because Voldemort knew he could latch himself onto his own soul, Potter would have been able to fight him off easily otherwise. Just like before.

Voldemort's gaze sharpened as another option came to his thoughts. He didn't need the boys mind, only the body protecting the Horcrux.

If his Horcrux was strong enough, it would be able to over power the boys own soul. As long as Voldemort made sure Potter could not fight back, then his own soul in control of the Potter's body would be surprising success. One that he would use to his advantage.

Chapter Text

The whoosh of the floo was constant, interrupting the horrendous silence as people rushed in and out of the Burrow. But there was still nothing. Not a single drop of news.

Ron stood abruptly, causing his mother to jump.

"I'm going to bed," Ron said and turned and left before anyone could say a word.

Hermione, who had been curled up in front of the fire, hurried after Ron. Mrs Weasley made to follow but Remus cut across her.

"Don't, they need this," Remus said.

"They can't be alone," Molly said as she looked tentatively towards the doorway.

"Molly, trust me, I know what they're going through," Remus said quietly.

Molly's gaze softened, tears still present in her eyes as she nodded.

"Nothing," Ron said, startling Hermione as she walked into his room. "We've heard nothing."

Ron began pacing furiously as he waved his hands in frustration.

Hermione paused in the doorway and shook her head blankly.

"We would have heard something by now if Harry was dead," Ron said.

"What do you mean?"

"If Harry was dead, we'd know," Ron said fiercely. "The death eaters would be singing from the sky."

"I don't understand?" Hermione said as she hovered on the threshold.

"I'm saying that Harry is alive," Ron said it so firmly that Hermione couldn't help but shake her head as her own thoughts spiraled.

"But we'd know," Hermione said. "The ministry would know if Harry had used his wand, they would have detected it."

Ron should his head.

"Come on Hermione," Ron said, frustrated that she wasn't keeping up for once. "Harry could easily have lost his wand."

"Which as good as confirms his death," Hermione bit back as she tried to prevent the fresh flow of tears.

"But we don't know for sure," Ron stressed and he paused in his pacing to run his hands over his face.

Hermione shook her head sadly before she walked into the room and shut the door gently behind her.

"Harry was being hunted by You Know Who. The ministry can't find him, where else would he be?"

Ron looked stumped for a second.

"Then You Know Who captured him?"

It was a stupid stab in the dark but Hermione found herself desperately going along with it.

"Why would he do that?"

Ron started pacing again, before he suddenly decided against it and flung himself down on his bed.

"I don't know," Ron snapped. "Can't you see I'm making this up as I go along."

However, his anger calmed as he saw Hermione flinch.

"I'm sorry," Ron said as he hung his head into his hands. "I just can't get my head around it. Harry can't be gone. He just can't."

Hermione slumped, as if the last remaining glimmer of hope had disappeared. A fresh round of tears began to creep down her face.

Ron however seemed to have steeled himself. His face was set as he clenched his fists in defiance, he looked so determined as he looked at Hermione.

"Whatever happened to Harry we can't give up now. We know what we have to do," Ron said.

Hermione nodded firmly despite her grief.

"Destroy Horcruxes."

"We at least owe Harry that," Ron said. "Whatever the hell happened to Harry we will do everything we can to finish this."

Hermione chocked on her own voice, she couldn't speak as Ron enclosed her in a hug.

Ginny's eyes burnt. She had hardly slept and yet she couldn't find any strength to get out of bed. Instead she lay on her back as she stared at her half pealed ceiling as her own thoughts swirled in past memories.

Ginny could only see Harry, flying on his broom. His hair swayed in the wind as he circled around her laughing. A small smile spread on Ginny's lips before her world came crashing down with a single knock.

Her mother entered holding a large mug of what smelled like cocoa. Ginny rolled onto her side so that she was facing the wall.

"Ginny dear," her mother began. "Why not come down for some food? You've missed breakfast but I can make whatever you want."

Ginny didn't respond and shortly after she heard her mother place the cocoa down beside her bed.

"I'll make you something when you come down."

She left and Ginny found herself swimming in memories once more.

Molly made her way upstairs to where her youngest sons bedroom had been locked all morning. She knocked twice and rocked back and forth slightly on her heels. A few seconds passed before the door swung open suddenly and Ron appeared. He looked as if he hadn't slept all night, behind him Hermione was hurriedly stuffing a load papers into a small beaded bag.

"I bought some cocoa," Molly said as she held up the two mugs.

"Oh," Hermione said jumping up. "Thanks, Mrs Weasley."

Hermione's hand were shaking as she took the mug and her hair was tied up in a messy ponytail.

"Did you not get any sleep Hermione?" Molly asked.

"Oh, sort of, yeah," Hermione said and she pressed the mug to her lips. Ron also took a mug of cocoa.

"We'll be right down to help with the wedding," Ron said.

"The wedding," Molly blinked. "Oh no, that silly thing."

"We'll be right down anyway," Hermione said and she stuffed her beaded bag out of sight.

Molly nodded.

"Are you alright?"

"Of course," Hermione said as if she wasn't fully aware of what she'd been asked. Ron didn't answer as he just stared at his cocoa blankly.

Harry's limbs ached something terrible.

He'd been in complete darkness since he'd been locked in his small dingy prison and it didn't look like his situation was going to improve.

Time passed painfully slowly and Harry had little to take his mind off the previous nights battle. He'd circled the room at least a dozen times, but Harry had found nothing in the darkness. Harry had also spent what must have been a couple of hours trying to break the lock on the door.

Harry was wary of rummaging in his leather pouch that sat around his neck as he didn't want to lose anything in the dark. Also he had a horrible feeling that he was being watched.

It must have been late evening when Harry's prison finally opened. Wand light flooded through the door and Harry was left squinting as his eyes burnt at the brightness. Harry stood up as someone entered the room. Harry couldn't tell who the outline was.

"Come here, Potter," the death eater instructed.

Harry didn't resist. Staying down here would achieve very little and he wanted answers. He walked as calmly as possible towards the door.

The masked death eater didn't say anything else as he gestured for Harry to move in front of him.

Bellatrix's smile widened when she saw Harry. She rocked her chair forwards and swung herself to her feet with her arms open wide. Behind her, sat her brother in law who only nodded once to dismiss the death eater who had brought Harry in.

"Lucius, you have failed in your duty as a host," Bellatrix said as her boots clicked across the floor. "I'm sure Potter is hungry."

"Eat, Potter," Malfoy said and he gestured towards the food.

Harry was hungry, but he ignored the plate full of food at the end of the table. Instead he crossed his arms and didn't move.

Bellatrix's tutted, her eyes agleam as she twirled her own wand between her fingers.

"Now don't be like that," she said. "You should be grateful to us, or would you rather we let you starve back downstairs."

"I'd rather starve," Harry said lightly. "Now, if you don't mind, I have somewhere to be."

Harry turned, only to find the door slam shut behind him.

"You're not going anywhere until you've eaten," Malfoy said and he too stood.

Harry stared at the plate of food briefly.

"Fine," Harry said and walked forwards to pick up the bread roll on the plate.

Harry took one small bite and then dropped the bread back on the plate.

"Satisfied?" Harry said.

"You will finish," Bellatrix's high pitch voice shrieked. Harry only shrugged and without saying a word he picked up the water and promptly dropped the glass. It shattered, and glass and water scattered across the floor.

This was apparently a step too far as Bellatrix's wand came twisting down.

"Crucio."

Harry screamed as his body crumpled under excruciating pain.

"Easy now, Bellatrix," Malfoy said. "Potter will have to eat eventually."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes but relented as her curse desisted.

Harry's muscles were shaking as he struggled to pull himself up.

"Fine, take Potter upstairs then," Bellatrix said.

"Upstairs?" Harry asked.

Malfoy stepped towards him and gestured for him to move. Harry hesitated only briefly before deciding whatever was upstairs was probably better than Bellatrix.

Malfoy led Harry across the entrance hall and up one side of the grand staircase. Harry had barely glanced at the large oak door before he felt the sharp point of a wand at the bottom of his neck.

"Don't even think about it, Potter," Malfoy said. "The Dark Lord has considered every possibility."

Malfoy gripped Harry's shoulder and shoved him forwards.

Harry briefly wondered if Dobby could still apparate into the Manor, not that Harry had any means to contact the elf.

"In," Malfoy demanded as they reached their destination. His jabbed his wand back into the back of Harry's neck. Harry stepped warily inside.

Harry entered and turned surprised as the door behind him melted away. No escape from there then.

The room was large and mostly empty. The walls were bare and the floor was cold stone. There was a large four poster bed tucked away in the corner, a small table with a wooden chair and a large sofa. The were no windows and the light seemed to just radiate magically into the room. There was another door in the left corner.

Harry crossed the room.

The bed looked comfy, but he was distracted as he noticed the clean clothes. Plain black trousers and a plain black long sleeved shirt. This was just getting more surprising.

Harry guessed the other room was a bathroom. Collecting the clean clothes he crossed back across the room.

It was a bathroom, and quite a nice one at that. A clean towel was hanging on the railing. This was definitely an improvement from the dungeon, however Harry didn't like the impression that all this was giving him. It felt like this was going to be an extended stay. Harry dumped the clothes down and approached the mirror, he didn't look too bad considering he'd spent the night in a dungeon.

Apprehensive Harry decided to shower quickly. He felt haunted from the previous nights events and wanted to try and feel remotely better about his current situation.

His shower was quick and after dressing Harry felt a strange sense of calm, and focus, he knew what he had to do. Slowly he moved across the room and sat on the bed for a short while before glancing around.

Harry moved his hand to just below his neck and felt the hidden bag that Hagrid had given him.

Harry smiled and pulled it off from around his head as he examined the contents.

Of course R.E.B's locket was still there as was his invisibility cloak. Harry grinned, as long as he got past the door he was in with a chance.

Now what he needed was a weapon. Sirius's broken mirror was also there and Harry observed the sharp edges carefully, suddenly his situation wasn't looking so bad. The mirror was enough to cut someone, that he already knew. But murder a snake, Harry didn't think he would be able to strike Nagini fast enough. She was huge and moved faster then Harry could probably blink. At least if Harry was forced to stay here, he would destroy the horcrux within her. It felt slightly comforting to have something to work towards, even when Voldemort was imprisoning him.

Harry really wished he'd invested in a second wand. He could hear Moody's grumbling voice in his head. Constant vigilance. Harry felt suddenly queasy as he realised that Moody was dead.

The Burrow wasn't the same. A cold emptiness lingered over the next few days.

Ginny spent most of her days in the garden watching the gnomes run about. She should have been helping to prepare for the wedding but Bill and Fleur had decided to delay it. Ron and Hermione had once again locked themselves in Ron's room and her mum had complained nonstop that the two of them shouldn't be alone. Fortunately Remus had been on hand to calm her down at every opportunity she had to drag them out.

Ginny wanted to distract herself but she too felt like she needed the space and the time to come to terms with Harry's death. The sun beamed down but Ginny didn't feel its warmth. She picked a daisy and started to pull off its petals. Her thoughts drifted to Harry's birthday and she couldn't help but let a smile creep over her face as she remembered the present she had been going to give him.

Chapter Text

Harry lay perfectly still on the large four poster bed. His hand pressed firmly against his scar as it continued to sting dully.

It wasn't long before Harry lost his last bout of consciousness. But any peace was temperamental for as soon as sleep found him, his scar seared with a fresh round of pain. Harry moaned, curling up as he pressed his hand tighter against his forehead. Voldemort had to leave the manor soon.

Giving up on rest, Harry sat up which only caused his head to spin. His limbs felt weighted as he wobbled slightly. The small amount of food Harry had consumed over the last few days was only enough to sustain him in the most simplest way. But Harry would refuse to give in. At least Voldemort seemed focused on other things for now.

Any routine had been pretty easy to establish and Harry hardly left his prison, leaving him little to no opportunity for escape. Bellatrix Lestrange or Lucius Malfoy occasionally forced Harry downstairs to try and make him eat, but Harry severely doubted that he'd get past them. Harry couldn't risk it, one failed escape attempt could lose him his cloak.

Time was running out. The longer Harry's stay became the more permanent it felt. At least Ron and Hermione knew what to do, they could find and destroy Voldemort's Horcrux's. Harry just hoped he could escape before they left the burrow. It would be impossible to find them otherwise.

"The boy still hasn't eaten," Bellatrix snapped as she glared at the full plate of food in front of her. It had been three days since Potter had arrived and he hadn't touched a thing. "I say we just curse him and get this over with."

"No Bellatrix," Malfoy said. "The Dark Lord said Potter must eat of his own accord."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

"And what good will that do?" she said. "I thought he was needed alive."

"He is, but Potter is doing this out of defiance. The Dark Lord realises this is necessary if he wishes to break him," Malfoy said.

"There are other ways to break a person," Bellatrix said and she waved her wand to exaggerate her point.

"True," Malfoy nodded as his own gaze drifted to the full plate of food. "However, his own food is the only control Potter has in his life. The Dark Lord understands this. If he truly is to break Potter then he needs him to be completely dependent. He will eat when our Lord commands it, answer when our Lord commands it."

"And bow as the Dark Lord commands it?" Bellatrix jeered and her eyes flashed dangerously. "I will not question our Lord, but surely he cannot be thinking of making Potter one of us?"

Malfoy stepped around the large table, a dark expression on his face.

"No, I do not believe that is what is planned for the boy."

"Then what?"

"I do not know," Malfoy said lightly. "And neither do I believe we are supposed to know."

Bellatrix looked like she was going to argue but she fell silent, the anger still burning in her eyes. She seemed determined to solve this problem though as her eyes focused onto the other person in the room.

"Draco," she said suddenly, gesturing eagerly at the pale young man who had been standing in the corner.

Her nephew stepped forwards. His eyes were shallow as he nodded curtly to his aunt.

"You will get Potter to eat," Bellatrix declared as a horrible smile split onto her face.

Both the older and younger Malfoy tensed, surprised at her abrupt suggestion.

"I doubt it," Draco said stiffly.

However it seemed after a moments thought, his father agreed.

"You will do as your aunt commands," Malfoy said.

Bellatrix grin widened as she placed her hands on either side of Draco's shouder.

"Yes, Draco, our Lord requires this to be done and you must regain his favour."

"If you can't get Potter to eat then how can I?" Draco asked.

"Now, now, Draco," Bellatrix said. "You would not deny our Lord?"

Draco was silent for a while.

"Fine."

Ginny's eyes were burning as she lay tucked in to her covers as the light flooded in from behind her curtains. She paused mid stretch before closing in on herself. Today was Harry's birthday, everyone had agreed that today should be the time to remember Harry, they would say goodbye as properly as they could as they had no body to bury.

She dressed slowly and as she was about to make her way down to the kitchen when she heard flapping and numerous screeches. Frowning she crossed back to her window and pulled the curtains open wide.

Owls had flooded the garden, there were hundreds of them, some circling about while others picked at the lawn. Ginny rushed to find her shoes as she hurried out onto the yard. The owls flew about her while some landed just in front of her. Her eyes grew wide as one owl approached her and held out its leg. Ginny's hands were shaking as she untied the small card that was attached. It wasn't addressed. Without hesitating she ripped the envelope open and found herself staring at a birthday card of a load of quidditch players zooming about on brooms.

Her hands continued to shake, her heart pounding as she opened it.

Happy Birthday Harry and Goodbye

Ginny stared at the neat letters before rushing up to another owl to retrieve its delivery. She ripped open another envelope this time to find a beautiful hand drawn card of a dragon with another message inside.

We will miss you Harry, Happy Birthday

Ginny's wiped her eyes on her sleeve while the owls hopped around, waiting patiently for her to collect their cards.

It was a short time later when she heard footsteps approach her.

"Ginny," her mother said as she looked around bewildered. "What are all these owls doing here?"

Ginny hurried up to her with her own arms bursting with cards as she passed one to her mother. Her mum's mouth fell open wide as tears welled in her eyes.

"Help me get them all," Ginny said.

They spent the next half an hour getting all the cards before they returned inside. Her mum immediately waved her wand and the cards started to arrange themselves around the house.

"We should remember the good times we had today," she said softly as she embraced her daughter tightly.

Mr Weasley arrived home shortly after they had prepared breakfast. Ron and Hermione had been going through each of the cards in amazement. Mr Weasley was holding the morning paper which he past to Ron and Hermione when they looked up.

Ron gaped as Hermione flipped through the paper. Every page was filled to the brim about Harry.

"Everything's in there," Mr Weasley said. "The very first article when You Know Who vanished, the interview Harry gave for the Quibbler, everything about the tri-wizard cup, everything."

"Wow," Ron gaped "They even got a quote from Krum."

Ginny rushed over to see.

"And the results for every quidditch match Harry's played."

"Harry was such a beacon of hope," Mr Weasley said. "When You Know Who disappeared all those years ago, he gave the wizarding world the relief they needed. I know you've always just thought of him as your friend, but he will always be more."

Ron and Ginny looked at him surprised, although they had grown up hearing stories of Harry she'd never thought of him as a beacon of hope before. Now Ginny understood what her father was saying, they had never lived through the torment all those years ago, they never truly appreciated what had happened but the wizarding world had never forgotten.

Harry was once again lying on the large four poster bed. It was mind numbingly boring being locked away all day, and he found his thoughts drifting off to the times he'd been locked in his cupboard. At least then he'd be let out to go to the bathroom and school. And although the little food he'd been given to him in his cupboard was less then he was being offered here, it had been a lot more comforting to know that the most threatening thing he'd had to deal with was Uncle Vernon.

Harry rubbed at his scar, thankful that Voldemort wasn't close to make it worse. It would be a lot easier to escape knowing that Voldemort wasn't in the manor.

He sat up startled as he heard movement. He immediately focused on the melting door and frowned as he saw a very unwelcome Slytherin walk into the room. Malfoy was carrying a plate of food as he waited for the door to melt behind him.

Harry raised an eyebrow and didn't say anything.

Malfoy scowled as he walked further into the room, he dumped the plate of food down on the small table in the corner the plate clattering loudly. Without looking towards Harry he grabbed the chair and pushed it up against the wall which he promptly sat down on leaning the chair against the wall.

Now it was Harry's turn to scowl

"Get out."

Malfoy looked just as unhappy.

"I'm not leaving until that's been eaten."

Harry moved off the bed and towards the food. He tried to ignore his burring vision as he picked up the apple and swiftly hurled it at Malfoy's head. Malfoy caught it with an unimpressed sneer.

"You eat it then," Harry snapped.

"Funnily enough I care about my life to not be that stupid," Malfoy said as he tossed the apple in the air before catching it again.

"What do you mean by that?" Harry said as he curled his fists. He desperately wanted to walk over and wipe that look off Malfoy's face.

"The Wizarding world have been saying goodbye to their precious Potter. How heroic he was, slaughtered by the Dark Lord." Malfoy looked directly towards him and laughed coldly. "How would they feel to know you starved yourself to death through your own stupidity."

Harry looked down at his feet at this.

"I'm not starving myself," he bit out.

"Could have fooled me," Malfoy said as he tossed the apple again.

Harry glared at him for a moment before changing the subject.

"Why aren't I dead yet?" Harry asked suddenly.

Malfoy just gave Harry a funny look.

"You think anyone knows? No one understands why the Dark Lord changed his mind."

They both fell into silence. Harry sat down on the edge of the large bed, frustrated at Malfoy's presence and the lack of any helpful answers.

However, after a short time Harry knew something he did want to ask Malfoy. Malfoy was still throwing the apple up and down while completely ignoring him.

"Why did you hesitate?" Harry asked.

Malfoy caught the apple as his head jerked around to meet him.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, but that didn't stop Harry catching Malfoy's nervous glance towards the door.

"On the tower," Harry said "You hesitated?"

Malfoy ignored his question and asked his own instead.

"You were on the tower?"

Harry shrugged offhandedly which seemed to annoy Malfoy more.

"I thought that was obvious."

"Why didn't you do anything then?" Malfoy countered "Too scared?"

"Dumbledore had me in a body bind," Harry said with a sudden uncomfortable lump in his throat "But you didn't answer my question. Why did you hesitate?"

Malfoy eye's glanced over Harry before he suddenly threw the apple hard towards him. Harry caught it as Malfoy smirked.

"Eat it and I'll tell you."

Harry stared at the apple, honestly he felt to sick to eat anything but he wanted to know. Damn his Gryffindor pride. He took a bite and ignored Malfoy's satisfied smirk. Harry finished the apple and frowned annoyed when Malfoy's gaze glanced towards the rest of the food. Rolling his eyes Harry approached the rest of the food and took the plate back to where he had been sitting. He knew he needed to eat anyway, one plate of food wouldn't be giving in.

Harry would need the strength if he was to fight Nagini. Sighing Harry gave in and took a bite of the bread. He continued to ignore Malfoy until he had finished.

As soon as he was done Malfoy stood up and walked directly towards him, he held out his hand waiting for the empty plate. Harry scowled as he past it to him however Malfoy was now averting his gaze. Harry didn't need to say anything as his question was answered.

"Because he offered me a way out," Malfoy said quietly.

Harry genuinely didn't know how to reply as Malfoy turned and made his way to leave. However, he paused at the door as it melted away.

"Happy Birthday, Potter."

Harry was left staring after Malfoy in confusion.

"You're leaving."

Ron and Hermione both froze as the familiar voice cut through the eerie silence of the night.

They watched as a figure stepped out of the darkness. Ginny stood with her arms cross and her expression nothing but cold.

"Why?" she demanded.

"We have something we need to do," Ron said.

Ginny scowled and she brandished her wand which spat in bright purple sparks.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder, back in the direction of the Burrow and the dimly lit windows.

"I want to come with you," Ginny said as she took a firm step forwards.

"No," Hermione said as Ron shook his head. "You can't come."

Ginny couldn't help but look affronted.

"I can help," she hissed, her voice raising slightly. "You might need me."

"You have the trace on you," Hermione said as her eyes darted back to the house. "What help is that?"

"It's too dangerous, anyway," Ron added.

"You're both going," Ginny said angrily. "What right do you have over me?"

She expected a full blown argument but was surprised by Hermione's honest answer.

"Harry left us something to do, something that has to be done," Hermione whispered. "If we could take you we would, but right now, it would help no one, specially not Harry."

Ginny couldn't respond to this. She always knew Harry trusted Ron and Hermione more then her, but it still hurt to hear it so bluntly.

"Just do one thing for me," Ron said suddenly. "Keep the DA going. They need to be ready."

"Ready for what?" Ginny asked.

"To fight," Ron said. "The time will come when Hogwarts will need to stand and fight back and you will have to be ready."

"I don't understand?" Ginny said frowning. "When is the time?"

"When we return to Hogwarts," Ron said. Ginny frowned, chewing her lip as if wanting to press and ask more questions but voices were sounding out behind them, back from the direction of the Burrow. Ginny lowered her wand and nodded once.

"Just make sure you do return," she said quietly, before adding more fiercely. "We'll be waiting and we'll be ready."

Ginny watched silently as they both walked down to the end of the garden before disapparating into the night.

Harry woke up screaming. His head was bursting as he struggled to move. He wanted to throw up but he could barely see as bloody images flashed through his mind.

Harry rolled over and dry wretched. He couldn't shake the vivid images he'd just witnessed. Bodies lay mangled with blood soaking into the floor as pleading screams flooded his ears.

Harry breathed deeply, gulping down fresh air, but he couldn't shake the smell and taste of blood which lingered from his dreams. He remained curled up on the bed, his arms drawn up to his body as Harry rested his forehead on his knees. He was barely aware of the fresh burst of pain in his head.

The Ministry.

Harry was sure that's what he'd seen. Rufus Scrimgeour had been the centre of all the chaos. His now dead body strewn across the large marble floor.

Harry had watched the last minutes of the ex-aurors life. He had felt everything Voldemort had as he destroyed the man. Voldemort had ripped the man to pieces.

The ministry had been taken. Harry knew that for certain. He had walked through the empty auditorium trapped in Voldemort's mind with Nagini hissed at his side.

Harry pulled himself up and forced himself to move towards the bathroom. Harry turned the cold tap on and plunged his head under the cold water.

It was a small relief as he stood there, hair dripping wet.

It had been a long while since he had slipped into Voldemort's mind but Harry understood perfectly. Voldemort had wanted him to see. He'd wanted Harry to know that all hope was lost.

Even if he escaped, Harry now would have no where to turn. If Voldemort had the Ministry, then he had Hogwarts.

Breathing heavily he moved back into the dimly light room. His eyes staring blankly at his cold surrounding, his anxiety building due to his prison. Harry stood for a long while, thoughts racing with the mangled body parts he'd been witness to.

He barely noticed the time pass as his body became cold and stiff. Harry closed his eyes, trying desperately not to think the unthinkable. The Burrow and its inhabitants had to be safe. They had to be.

Harry had moved back over to the bed by the time the young Malfoy entered the room. Harry's head shot up from where he sat on its edge. He would have darted over and confronted the Slytherin but he knew his legs would not hold him steady.

Malfoy stopped and stared at him, his own mouth parting in shock at the side of Harry before he promptly shut his mouth as it turned into a smirk.

"Wow, you look like hell, Potter," Malfoy said.

Harry chose not to comment as he stared intently, his eyes piercing. He hadn't slept, not that he hadn't tried.

It seemed Voldemort hadn't been finished with his murderous rampage. Harry was exhausted, every time he had drifted off, more horror awaited him, more bodies, more pleads for mercy. He didn't want to go to sleep. He couldn't deal with it any longer.

"What happened?" Harry bit out, choosing to ignore the plate of food that Malfoy had set down to the side.

Malfoy paused, giving him a calculating look.

"What do you mean?" He asked after a short while.

"The ministry," Harry barely managed to say, he closed his eyes briefly as if this would block out what he had seen.

Malfoy looked stunned, still standing from where he had sat the previous day.

"How do you-?".

Harry wanted answers and he wanted them fast.

"Voldemort made me view the entire thing," Harry was surprised his voice was so steady.

Harry had to give the Slytherin some credit as he crossed his arms looking at Harry carefully.

"What do you want to know then?" Malfoy asked calmly. "If you've seen it all, you know more than me."

"The Weasley's," Harry said calmly although he was anything but. His stomach twisted anxiously as he waited.

Malfoy tilted his head to the side and stared hard at Harry before a cold expression spread across his face.

"It seems our arrangement will continue," he said almost casually.

Harry didn't understand, he glared coldly and didn't answer.

Malfoy's expression changed to a sharp grin.

"You eat for information, Potter. Same as yesterday."

Harry wanted to punch him. He stood up furiously, jumping forwards angrily. He had barely made two steps when he swayed and staggered.

Malfoy smirked as Harry halted and glared at him. He wished he had a wand, just to stop Malfoy from looking so smug from where he leaned casually against the wall.

As if to rub salt in, Malfoy cleared his smug expression and said coldly.

"Their house, if you can call it that, was attacked. If you want to know more, then eat the damn food."

Harry felt sick. His stomach twisting painfully. He could barely hold himself standing. The Weasley's had to be safe. They had to be.

He didn't want to eat, he didn't think he could, but Malfoy's face gave nothing away.

At least it wasn't much, just a small pile of sandwiches. He tried to think of anything but the Weasley's as he bit into the food.

Malfoy seemed satisfied, for Harry had only eaten two sandwiches when he spoke.

"The blood traitors are fine," he shrugged absently.

Harry didn't relax, he lowered the sandwich and stared at him and waited. His heart racing as he waited for more details.

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"It wasn't the Weasley's they were after," he said sounding bored. "Fortunately for them they weren't hiding any of Dumbledore's men. The Order were the target."

Harry felt himself relax slightly. If the Order were safe then they were still fighting. It wasn't over yet.

"Hermione?" Harry asked quietly.

"The mudblood wasn't there, shame really," Malfoy added. Harry would have hit him if he hadn't been so relieved to hear that Hermione hadn't been found.

Harry ignored the remaining food and moved away from Malfoy. He sat exhausted on the end of bed once more, his head falling into his hands. He just wanted to sleep, perhaps Voldemort was done with his murderous rampage by now.

His thoughts wondered to Ron and Hermione. They must have left to seek out the remaining Horcrux's.

Malfoy was watching him carefully.

"You know, you should eat more," he said quietly after a long uncomfortable silence.

Harry's head shot up and he couldn't help but stare at the Slytherin.

He tilted his head to the side and couldn't help let his mouth twist into a cold smile.

"Starting to feel guilty, Malfoy?"

Harry didn't care that Malfoy sounded concerned, he didn't care about anything. He just hated everything and everyone that kept him trapped in this hell.

The Slytherin remained only a moment before he turned and left without another word.

Harry couldn't help but feel a bitter satisfaction as he was left to his own thoughts once more. Malfoy had been a odd relief to his mental torment. The news that the Weasley's were safe caused his mind to wonder back to his own situation.

Voldemort must have finished murdering people by now. Harry lay back and stared dead ahead. It must be safe to sleep.

Chapter Text

The potions cabinet towered up to the ceiling. It was filled with dozens of bottles, each labelled and shining with their own distinctive colour. Draco glanced back towards the hallway as he took a single shaky breath and flicked his wand. A small vial full of a creamy looking liquid dislodged itself from the shelf and floated down into his sweaty palm.

Draco pushed the vial into his pocket as he stepped tentatively out into the dimly lit corridor.

Along the hall Draco's ancestors glared down from their grand paintings, almost as if they knew what he was doing and disapproved. Draco focused on the floor, his ears strained for the slightest of sounds. But there were no footsteps and the manor remained eerily silent.

Draco was outright defying the Dark Lord. He should be celebrating Potters capture, along with the rest of the manor, but Draco just couldn't help but shake the thought of those vacant green eyes.

Death was bliss compared to Potter's torment. Draco had almost considered taking his fathers stock of deadly poisons. It would be quick and Potter would probably thank him for it.

There was a small crack in the wall opposite which marked the spot. Draco muttered under his breath and he held up his dark mark. The door melted away instantly, revealing Potter's prison.

Draco stepped instead and tried to look anywhere but at Potter bloodshot gaze.

"What's that?" Potter asked as he eyed the vial suspiciously.

Draco swallowed, all retorts dying on his lips. Potter wasn't usually this coherent.

"A dreamless sleep potion."

Potter's gaze, if anything, intensified as he stared with a haunted longing.

"Why would you give me that?"

Draco didn't answer. Instead he crossed the room and pressed it hard into Potter's grip.

"Just drink it."

There was no denying the tremble in Potter's hand, nor the genuine confusion as his brows creased.

"Voldemort wouldn't want me to," Potter said, his voice oddly quietly.

"Just shut up and drink it," Draco said. "My job is to keep you alive, which is hard enough when you're trying to jeopardise it."

Potter rolled the vial gently between his fingers.

"I don't need a dreamless sleep potion to stay alive," Potter said. "So why are you giving me this?"

Draco broke eye contact first.

"You're barely alive," Draco muttered.

He waited, his heart pounding in his chest as Potter slowly moved the vial to his mouth and downed the whole thing in one.

Potter was asleep before Draco had stepped out the room.

Harry woke with a scream as he clutched his burning forehead. Tears welled in his eyes as he pressed his fist hard against his scar.

Voldemort's murderous thoughts consumed his own as all respite Harry had had from the few hours dreamless sleep were shattered in an instant. Harry swung his legs over the side of his bed, he was about to force himself to stagger towards the bathroom when the dreaded door to his prison melted away.

Lucius Malfoy strode into the room.

"Get up, the Dark Lord requires your presence."

Harry stood, barely resisting the urge to collapse back onto the bed. He would have refused, but he neither had the strength nor the mental capacity to deal with Lucius Malfoy right now. It didn't help that he hadn't left the room for days and the room gave no distinction between night and day.

Voldemort was waiting in the Malfoy's drawing room. He was sitting at the far of end of the large table that spanned the room.

Harry gave into his pain as he pressed his hand back to his burning forehead.

"What do you want?" Harry said as his vision swayed rapidly in and out of focus.

Voldemort didn't reply at first, his cold calculating stare pierced through Harry.

"Just kill me already," Harry hissed.

But unnervingly just like before, Voldemort stayed his wand.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, to give Voldemort the fury to finish what needed to be done, but something small and gold caught Harry's eye. At first he thought he had seen incorrectly.

The golden snitch flicked its tired wings as it hovered above Voldemort's chair.

"From Dumbledore's last will and testament," Voldemort said softly, his fierce red eyes never leaving Harry's. "It was left for you. The first snitch you ever caught."

Harry's mouth dried as any response died in his throat.

"Snitches have flesh memories, meaning that it will only open for you," Voldemort continued. "Dumbledore left something inside of it."

Harry didn't look towards the snitch.

"Open it," Voldemort commanded. With a single flick of his wand, the snitch jerked slightly before it flapped feebly to be just in Harry's reach.

Harry's reached out tentatively as he grasp the small ball in his sweaty palm. Harry desperately hoped that Dumbledore was as smart as he remembered.

The snitches wings fluttered feebly against his hands. Nothing happened.

Voldemort hadn't moved. His red eyes remained narrowed as he stared at the snitch. Harry was barely able to conceal a tired grin. Dumbledore must have known he may have to receive the snitch under watchful eyes.

However, Harry's relief was short lived as he heard a familiar voice out of the darkness.

"My Lord, Potter didn't catch that snitch with his hand."

Voldemort looked annoyed at being interrupted, however he nodded allowing the young Malfoy to continue.

"My Lord," Malfoy's voice was oddly quiet. "Potter caught the snitch in his mouth."

Harry's heart sank, the small amount of hope he had vanished instantly. He glared at Malfoy but the Slytherin didn't meet his gaze.

"Open it," Voldemort hissed.

Harry didn't make a single movement.

"No."

Voldemort stood and drew his wand. The pressure was building in Harry's head, a shadow so oppressive that terror consumed every inch of him.

There was no way Harry could resist as his own arm moved against him. Harry was a slave to his own body as his own hand placed the snitch against his lips.

Voldemort released him almost instantly. Harry stumbled, banging into the table. Steadying himself slowly he looked down at the snitch still clasp in his cold hand. His scar was still stinging painfully.

"I open at the close."

Harry stared at the words he didn't understand.

Fortunately, Voldemort also seemed to not understand, but it was apparent he didn't suspect Harry to know either.

Sickness flooded Harry's throat as he swayed, his own thoughts and vision mixing with Voldemort's. His nightly terrors seemed all the more real.

"Can you just quit it?" Harry hissed. He may as well draw attention to the hell he'd been continuously subjected to these last few days.

Voldemort only gave a cold smile as he appeared to float across the room towards him. Harry couldn't help it, he tried to draw away but all strength in his legs seemed to have gone. He wasn't scared of Voldemort but this endless torment was relentless.

Voldemort stopped short just in front of Harry.

"It's not my problem if you cannot close your mind, Potter," Voldemort hissed.

"Just what the hell is the point?" Harry snapped as his vision swirled. Voldemort's own view was shifting dangerously in and out of focus as Harry stared at his own self standing feebly before him.

Voldemort seemed to consider Harry briefly before his mouth curved into a dark smile.

"I want your mind, Potter."

Harry blinked, his pain almost forgotten as he realised the true horror behind Voldemort's words.

"What?" Harry said.

Voldemort towered over Harry.

"I want your inner thoughts torn apart, your mind completely defenceless, the very essence of who you are stripped apart."

The reality was chilling.

"You want to possess me," Harry said, the sound of his own voice barely reached his own ears.

A cold unnatural smile crossed Voldemort's snake like face.

"I am offering you a simple way, involving your cooperation," Voldemort hissed.

The dread that was building nearly consumed Harry.

"My cooperation?" Harry said.

"Don't resist and it will be quick and for the most part painless. Unlike your current situation," Voldemort responded coolly.

"No," Harry said, shaking his head, despite the desperate longing coursing through him.

Voldemort didn't speak again, instead he raised his wand.

Harry barely heard the curse. His screams pieced his lungs as all breath left him. Harry collapsed, slamming hard onto the floor as pain unlike anything he remembered pierced through ever inch of his body.

Voldemort's curse ended abruptly, but Harry remained panting curled up on the stone floor.

"Pain is one thing," Voldemort said softly as he stooped low so Harry could only just hear him. "But resisting this, it would destroy your very being. Give in to me and your mind will remain whole, if absent."

Harry couldn't move, didn't dare. Oblivion would be bliss.

"Why do you care if I don't go insane?" Harry hissed.

Voldemort answered plainly, in an almost bored tone as he spun his wand lazily in his fingers, almost daring Harry to get back up and defy him.

"Because tampering with the mind is a dangerous thing and the outcome can never be predicted."

Harry felt himself going hollow as he tore his eyes away from Voldemort's gaze. Harry's mind was his very being but resisting may give Voldemort the knowledge that Harry was aware of his Horcrux's.

Harry swallowed, his mouth dry. He would regret this.

"No."

There had to be another way out.

Voldemort's red eyes sharpened immediately as he observed Harry in an almost predatory fashion.

"I will not offer you this choice again, Potter. Do not resist this."

Harry thought of Ron and Hermione. And Ginny. Would their memories alone be enough to sustain him.

"I would rather destroy myself."

Harry actually screamed from the pain that burst through his head.

"Trust me, Potter, that is arranged," Voldemort hissed.

Harry lay motionless as cold shivers raked through his body. His heart raced as he stared up at the top of the four poster bed. His bloodshot eyes blinked once, twice before he rolled over and groaned.

Every thought was a jumbled mess as flashes of Voldemort's latest victim swam before Harry's eyes. Harry shook his head, trying desperately to shake the image of the witch who had just perished in the most horrific way.

Harry shut his eyes, before he promptly opened them again as blood splashed red across his vision. Harry was slipping into Voldemort's mind so frequently now that Harry was beginning to lose all reason.

The voices didn't help either. Harry was convinced he was hearing things, dark whispers in his head every time he failed to sleep. He would also wake, standing in the middle of the room, cold and disorientated, with absolutely no recollection of his movements. Voldemort was mocking him, testing the boundaries of control.

Otherwise Voldemort had not returned to the manor since. Harry had long since lost track of what day it was, and the only contact he had now was Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy brought food twice a day and often left with no words exchanged. They had used to argue but Harry didn't have the energy, didn't have the desire to find out what was happening in the wizarding world anymore. Not when Harry could see it all first hand through Voldemort's eyes.

It couldn't go on any longer. Harry hadn't had a proper opportunity to escape. He needed to create one.

"I need to get out of here," Harry said.

Malfoy who had been sitting across the room reading a book looked up. Harry didn't see Malfoy's frown, or the disgruntled look at the untouched plate of food by Harry's bedside.

"You chose this," Malfoy said bluntly. "You could have just given in."

"If you're going to say stupid stuff then get out," Harry snapped as heat flushed to his face.

"Well you're not going anywhere if you don't eat something," Malfoy said. "You won't last five minutes."

"Forgive me," Harry said as he tilted his head and smiled coldly. "I don't particularly have an appetite after watching Voldemort murder someone."

Malfoy jerked at this, his eyes widening slightly as his mouth pressed firmly together.

Harry took a deep breath and tried again.

"You can let me out though," Harry pressed, urgently now. "No one would need to know."

Malfoy barely managed to pull his lips apart as he crossed his arms and stared hard at Harry.

"No."

Harry ignored him.

"It can't be that hard," he said. "Voldemort is never here and I could easily have slipped past you-"

"Yeah, and I'll get myself killed in the process," Malfoy snapped as he stood up fists balled, his book falling to the floor. "I don't owe you anything, Potter."

Harry chanced a glance at the Slytherin. Malfoy was Harry's only hope of getting out of the manor alive and the chances of this were slipping away as the start of September drew closer and Malfoy would return to school.

"I would owe you my life," Harry said. "If you just left the door open for a second longer-"

Malfoy scowled and this time he drew his wand.

"Just shut up and stop asking."

"But I guess you're used to murdering people," Harry continued, "What's a little more blood on your hands-"

"I haven't killed anyone," Malfoy snapped as black sparks spat from his wand.

"Didn't stop you trying though," Harry countered.

"Damn it, Potter. Just shut the hell up!"

There was a bang as Malfoy's curse narrowly missed Harry's head.

Harry didn't flinch.

"Deal with it Malfoy. You chose your side."

Malfoy didn't say anything at first, instead his eyes darkened as he turned and stormed out the room.

Harry was pretty sure Malfoy would have slammed the door if he could, but Harry only watched as it melted back to solid. Harry's smile slipped off his face as he stared blankly.

He needed a new plan.

Chapter Text

Time was no longer relative. Harry had no concept of how many hours or days that he'd sat waiting for a Death Eater to take him out of his room. So when the opportunity presented itself many days later, Harry wasn't calm and he wasn't ready.

Harry held his breath as his scar prickled and his vision blurred. Voldemort's own view of the Malfoy's drawing room swam dangerously in and out of focus. Harry took a few deep breaths and clutched Sirius' mirror tightly, concealing it up his sleeve. There must be another way, but Harry could no longer comprehend any other options. He had to escape now.

The Death Eater gestured for Harry to get up. Harry's palms were sweating and his legs nearly gave way as he stood. The mirror slipped, catching his own wrist which immediately stung with pain. But this was enough of a distraction to stay in his own head. Instinctively, Harry pressed the mirror in harder, grounding his mind from Voldemort's own murderous thoughts. He had one shot and the consequences would be catastrophic if he failed.

Harry swore his thumping heart would give him away as he stepped obediently over the threshold. The Death Eaters wand pressed hard into the back of his neck. Harry shut his eyes, took a deep breath and counted to three.

Harry struck suddenly, ducking as he turned. The curse singed the back of his neck as Harry dodged back up and jumped towards the Death Eater. Harry threw his arm downwards as hard as he could. The sharp edge of the mirror sliced so easily into the Death Eaters throat.

The Death Eater screamed, flailing backwards, his hands grasping uselessly at his neck as blood burst out, spraying Harry across his face and chest.

Harry pressed the shard deeper as the Death Eaters scream turned into a horrible gurgle. The man legs gave way, his heavy body almost crushing Harry as he fell forwards with a heavy and unpleasant thud.

Harry could only see deep red, thick and wet as his own knees slammed into the floor. His hands were slippery as he struggled to wrench the blood soaked wand out of the man's grasp. The mirror wouldn't budge, it was embedded too deep into the man's neck.

Footsteps echoed vaguely in Harry's head, but he couldn't make sense of which direction they were coming from. In a blind panic Harry pointed the blood soaked wand at the man's neck.

"Accio mirror."

There was a loud horrific crunch. The mirror splayed blood as it dislodged itself and almost sliced Harry's own fingers again as he stuffed it back into the small mokeskine bag around his neck.

The footsteps were growing louder.

Harry fumbled with his invisibility cloak as he threw it over himself. Slowly, he began to move down the corridor, the wall supporting his weight as he staggered along.

The manor was oddly silent, and each step would have felt like a feeble attempt at hope, had it not been for the building pain in his scar.

"No," Harry hissed as he pressed his bloody hand to his forehead and stumbled into the wall, dislodging a portrait from its bracket. "Not now."

Voldemort's own vision was coming abruptly into a sharp focus. Harry nearly fell to his knees as he crunched up his eyes. There was nothing he could do-

Someone crashed straight into him with a tremendous thud.

Harry fell backwards, the wind knocked out of him as his mind slammed back into his own. His wrist twisted hard against the ground as the cloak slipped off his head before he could reach out and grab it.

There was nowhere to hide.

Draco Malfoy sat across from him, mouth agape and eyes wide in terrified horror.

Blood was still streaming down Harry's face, it was mixed in with his hair and was such a deep red that it could have been his own.

Harry struggled upwards, groaning as his scar burnt fiercely. He gathered his cloak and retrieved the wand that had fallen out of his hands.

Malfoy hadn't moved or called out. He only stared, unblinking as Harry grappled with the invisibility cloak.

Harry didn't even bother to point his wand at Malfoy, he was too focused with the enormous task of covering himself, yet he somehow managed to throw it over himself as he disappeared from view.

Harry had barely taken two steps when Bellatrix Lestrange appeared. She was positively beaming. The hunt was in her blood.

She spied Draco on the floor and hissed in delight.

"Did you find him, Draco?"

Harry froze, his hand clamping to his mouth as he scar seared in unbearable pain. He didn't dare move for fear of Bellatrix hearing him.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and hissed.

"Get up, do you wish for the Dark Lord to see you like this?"

She pulled Draco to his feet and then pushed him roughly back in the direction from where Harry had come.

Harry could breathe again, maybe he could actually do this. He moved away, this time clutching his cloak tighter.

Not far along the next corridor, Harry arrived at the top of a grand staircase. It split in two and led down to a large entrance hall where a solid oak door remained shut.

It was empty.

Harry edged down the stairs, wincing at each creak of wood beneath his foot.

It happened instantly. Harry's scar burned with the most ferocious pain. He staggered and slipped down against the wall. There was only one person it could be.

Voldemort had entered the entrance hall and his blood red gaze swept the room as Harry curled invisible against the wall. The hissing and spitting that followed him, drew Harry's attention downwards to the giant serpent that had just slithered across the floor behind her lord.

But not even the cloak could save him, for as soon as Voldemort's eyes found Harry's he was overcome.

Harry's mind went numb and his body was lost. Harry tried to move his arm, to raise the wand, but he could control nothing. Even his fingers slackened as his vision shifted to Voldemort's.

Harry watched helplessly as his body moved of its own accord, his fingers appearing from no where as the cloak was pulled from his head. His own mouth was twisted in a horrific smile as his eyes shone a horrible red.

Voldemort released his body back to him.

Harry didn't move from where he was pressed against the wall.

"Come here."

Voldemort's voice was deadly soft.

Harry only clenched onto the cloak tightly as he raised the bloodied wand.

"No."

Voldemort raised his own wand.

Black flames erupted and surged across the room. Harry staggered upwards, striking his own wand upwards, but his curse failed to counter Voldemort's as the flames viciously licked up his arm.

Harry screamed, his fingers burning despite his skin remaining untouched. He dropped the wand with a loud clatter.

"I won't ask again, Potter," Voldemort hissed.

Harry took a deep breath and exhaled, but he remained defiantly still.

There was a high pitched laugh as the top of the stairs. Bellatrix Lestrange had appeared and she beamed down at the sight before her.

Voldemort didn't smile as his red eyes narrowed.

"Hold him."

Bellatrix wand flicked on command, and Harry's stomach churned as his feet left the ground. There was nothing he could do as his body contorted. He was slammed and pinned against the wall.

And then Harry's left sleeve was pulled up.

Harry panicked as he realised what was happening. He tried twisting away, kicking back but his invisible restraints cut tighter into his wrists and ankles. Voldemort stepped closer, Nagini trailing at his heels.

"Don't-" Harry hissed.

Harry wouldn't beg, he would never give in to Voldemort, but the pain and desperation in his eyes were as good as kneeing down and submitting.

Voldemort pointed his wand directly at Harry's arm.

"There are only a few I grant this honour, Potter."

Harry couldn't say anything. He was completely at Voldemort's mercy as the wand jabbed towards Harry's lower arm.

Nothing happened at first. Harry let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding, before he froze. A small black snake had emerged, writhing at the tip of Voldemort's wand.

"No-"

Harry only realised what was happening a second before the snake struck.

He screamed as his arm ruptured. The black snake burrowed deep into Harry's flesh, twisting and turning as it disappeared underneath his skin. Harry's eyes swam as sickness rushed to his throat. His skin was bubbling as the snake moved around, digging into his nerves as if his arm was going to burst.

Every slight movement was like hundreds of needles, piercing with no relief. Harry swore as he clenched his eyes closed pushing his head back against the wall. With one final burst of pain, the snake erupted from his skin and slithered back into the tip of Voldemort's wand.

Harry's invisible bonds disappeared and he fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

Harry gritted his teeth as he remained knelt on the floor before Voldemort. Yet he could not bring himself to stand. Instead he cradled his butchered arm to his chest.

It was dark black. A snake twisted inside of a skull.

"Why?" Harry hissed. Anything but this twisted limbo.

Voldemort stepped away.

"My Death Eaters must prove they are capable of serving me."

Harry only just managed to bring himself to look up and meet Voldemort's gaze.

"You mean, because I-" Harry wished he would stop shaking. "B-because I killed."

Voldemort didn't answer, instead his red stare remained unnerving on Harry.

"Your mark means nothing," Harry said, but his voice sounded so disgustingly feeble. "I will never belong to you."

Voldemort however ignored him.

"I misjudged you," Voldemort said, his voice was calm and had a horribly deadly tone to it. But his next question was worse. "How did it feel?"

Harry shook his head, but he knew exactly what Voldemort meant. Harry could still see the dead man with the blood splattered indignantly across him. Had Harry really been so ruthless.

Harry tried to ignore the memory, the horrible moment of when he stabbed the mirror deep into the Death Eaters throat. He had felt nothing. No relief, no guilt. Harry had killed a man with his own hands. He had struck someone's life from them. Something was desperately wrong with him.

"I don't know."

This reply strangely satisfied Voldemort.

"What was the weapon?" Voldemort asked.

Now Harry realised his mistake. He should have left the mirror in the body, at least this way no one would suspect him of hiding it on him. Harry locked his jaw tight firmly, he wasn't about to give up that information.

"Search him."

Harry had no time to prepare, Bellatrix's spell struck him, but he was surprised when the small bag around his neck did not reveal itself.

Voldemort's face twisted into a horribly cruel smile.

"Return Potter to his room."

Bellatrix actually giggled with glee, as she bounced down the last few steps and dug her nails into Harry's arm as she hauled him up. Harry tried to pull away, but his body was so tired, his arms and legs aching with no strength. Bellatrix pushed him in the opposite direction from freedom.

Bellatrix's taunts washed in and out of Harry's head as he tried to blink back his exhaustion. It was only when they reached Harry's prison did he realise what Voldemort had been so pleased about.

The murdered man was lying untouched from where Harry had struck him down. The only difference was that the man's mask had been removed and his face was contorted in horror, but it wasn't this that Harry was staring at. The large gash in the man's neck was disfigured and the wound contorted. The sight was horrific.

Harry jerked back as he felt his blood run cold, but Bellatrix merely hauled him into the room with one finally shriek of glee.

The bathroom door had been locked. Harry tugged at the handle, but no matter how much he jerked, twisted or slammed the door with his shoulder it didn't move. Instead, Harry was trapped in his minimalist room with the dead man whose blood had pooled across the floor.

Harry resigned himself to move back to his bed. He slammed his eyes shut only to open them again immediately when Voldemort's own view swam dangerously into focus. Instead, Harry was left staring at the man lying dead on the floor. Their gormless face twisted with unnervingly vacant eyes.

Harry rolled over, desperately trying to forget. But even wondering what Ron and Hermione were doing now wasn't enough to keep his thoughts from straying.

"He deserved to die," Harry whispered to himself as he drew his own knees up to his chest. "He's a Death Eater. He hurt people."

But despite this, Harry could not satisfy his guilt. Had he really not felt anything when he brutally stabbed the mirror into the man's throat. Harry pressed his face into the pillow.

What was happening to him.

Had he truly been so detached as he had murdered someone. Killing was meant to be so horrific that it tore ones soul apart.

The continuous light of the room made the hours pass terribly slowly. Harry tried to sleep but it was hard when he didn't want to slip back into Voldemort's mind. Harry settled for sitting crossed legged, his knees drawn up, with his head resting on them.

He was still awake when he felt his scar burn. Harry pulled his head up to find Voldemort watching him from the door way. Harry uncurled himself and moved to stand facing Voldemort with the meagre courage he could muster.

"I-" Harry's throat was dry as the Dark Lord remained staring at him with those horrific red eyes. "Y-You said I could have oblivion, if you have my body. I won't fight anymore, just make it stop-"

Voldemort's lipless mouth twisted into a horrible smile.

"That opportunity has passed, Potter."

Harry shivered, his breath misting up in front of his face as Voldemort led him through deep passageways underneath the manor to a large circular chamber.

In the centre of the room stood an enclosure of rusty bars where only one person could stand. Harry took an abrupt step back, only to find the tip of Voldemort's wand pressing into his back.

Harry tried to fight it, but there was no way he had the metal resolve to hold Voldemort out of his mind. Harry could only watch as Voldemort controlled his body as it stepped into the small circle of iron bars.

With another flick of his wand, iron chains wound down from the ceiling and seized Harry's wrists, pulling his arms up sharply above his head. Harry grimaced as he fell back into his body, his arm sockets burned as they were jerked upwards into the uncomfortable position.

Voldemort stepped closer, so that his face was almost pressed up against the bars.

"You decided we would do this the hard way, Potter," he hissed.

A cold was creeping into the room, and it wasn't the same from the icy chill of the dungeons. This cold Harry knew only to well, and it stole his breath away.

Dementors.

The seemed to sink into the room, their rotten cloaks and skeletal bodies prowling forwards towards where Harry was trapped.

Harry wasn't thinking properly as he panicked, trashing against his bound hands. Screams were already flooding his head, unrelenting torment as their icy grasp consumed his happiest memories, the only thing he had left to hang onto.

Harry was unaware of Voldemort leaving, all he could hear was his own screams as he sank into hell.

Harry's mind scratched desperately as darkness consumed him. The unrelenting torment of his past flicked thick and fast as his mother's screams penetrated his every thought. Harry watched Sirius repeatedly fall through the veil while Dumbledore's broken body lay in a crumpled heap beneath the tower.

Harry flicked between consciousness and unconsciousness. The darkness seeped in as he screamed and begged for death. Yet nothing would elevate his torment. Nothing would stay the raspy breaths of the dementors as they hovered around the feeble bars and circled their prey.

Harry's eyes darted back and forth, blind to anything that was good. His voice was strained from crying out as he tried desperately to get his bearings. But there was no hope, the dementors hold would never diminish. There was no way he could go on.

With one final anguished breath, Harry gave up entirely.

Potter's blacked eyes glinted open and his mouth curled into a dark smile. The screams inside his head remained constant, although they had died down significantly now his existence was established.

Potter's arms were held above his head, and his wrists were torn from where Potter had thrashed against his restraints. Now that wouldn't do. With a burst of magic, the shackles shattered and he lowered Potter's hands in satisfaction.

Now to deal with the dementors.

Voldemort moved silently towards the manor. It had not been long since he'd left, but now the call of his mark pulled him back. And there was only one reason that his Death Eaters would dare summon him.

Bellatrix was waiting for him at the entrance and she bowed low as he approached.

"M-my Lord, the boy-"

"Where is he?" Voldemort hissed.

Bellatrix jerked her head in the direction of the Drawing Room. Voldemort stepped across the threshold his robes flowing out behind him as Nagini slithered across the grass behind him.

Lucius Malfoy was stood at the door, and he almost forgot to bow as his stepped back for his lord to see.

Potter was standing in the centre of the room with his back to the door. The boy did not turn, nor speak as Voldemort walked to the head of the room.

"How did you leave the room?" Voldemort demanded.

The boy looked demented, his dark eyes shadowed from the horror he had been subjected to. He was drenched in his own dry sweat and he did not answer at first. Instead, Potter's dark gaze fixed upon Nagini who had followed her lord into the room, her long thick body coiling against the floor.

Voldemort held his patience, he had to be strategically careful with Potter. The boys mind was being heavily influenced by the Horcrux, he did not need this to be disrupted, he needed Potter to be as sedate as possible.

There were various charms preventing the boy from leaving the mansion and its grounds, but it was remarkable that Potter had even made it this far.

The boy was still watching Nagini intently, he seemed barely able to hold himself steady.

"Potter?" Voldemort hissed.

Potter looked up, his head resting to one side. His eyes were haunted as a thin chilling smile slipped across face. He opened his mouth to deliver the news that Voldemort had been waiting for.

"Potter can't hear you."

Chapter Text

Potter swayed on the spot, a disturbed grin on his face.

Behind the boy Bellatrix and Lucius exchanged glances.

"How did I escape the room?" Potter repeated Lord Voldemort's question. "You had an enchantment on the cage to stop the dementors from claiming Potter's- my soul- I just shifted the parameters."

Potter took a step towards Nagini who reared up and hissed. This did not deter the boy who knelt down and hissed so that Voldemort could not hear. Nagini in turn quietened, her own forked tongue hissing as she curled her heavy body in on itself.

"My Lord-" Bellatrix started, but at the sharp look she received from Voldemort she bowed and fell silent. Voldemort turned his attention back to Potter who continued to entice Nagini with words of parseltongue.

His Horcrux was far more than Voldemort could have hoped for. Potter had managed to resist for so long that Voldemort had feared that their presence would never come to be.

"I dare not go past the outer limitations," his Horcrux stood suddenly, his voice hard, like how Potter usually sounded as he faced his Lord with no fear. "Potter is still so strong, why has he not broken?"

Voldemort's eyes flashed.

"You are in control, is that not enough?"

A sharp laugh escaped Potter's mouth as he fixed Lord Voldemort with a look that no one else would dare.

"You are foolish if you underestimate how strong Potter is."

Voldemort stepped closer, his fingers curling under Potter's chin to bring red eyes up to meet his own. His Horcrux remained obediently still as Voldemort inspected his soul.

"The boy is not present now?" Voldemort demanded.

"No," his Horcrux said. "Potter cannot face the world right now."

"Then what do you suggest?" Voldemort asked. Bellatrix and Lucius remained watching with rapt attention. Of course, Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters would never understand the full meaning of these event, but that didn't matter.

"I only came to be when Potter was desperate for his existence to end in both body and soul, when his mind was finally breaking apart," Potter said, "Yet I cannot sustain myself for long, if Potter decides to wake there will be little I can do to prevent it."

His Horcrux turned back to face the giant serpent.

"Give me Nagini."

Voldemort's eyes flashed at the clear command.

Potter tilted his head, but it did not deter him as a thin unnerving smile twitching on his lips.

"You know I cannot do this alone and her presence will give me the strength to fight Potter, to keep him sedate."

"Then take the locket, it will have the same effect," Voldemort hissed.

"No," his Horcrux said. "Potter will always be too strong for me, were he to regain control and escape you would lose two Horcrux's. Nagini can stop the boy if need be."

"I refuse to believe that you are that weak," Voldemort said.

"I have never had a consciousness before, never been aware before," his Horcrux started pacing, his frustration flashing across their bond as even Nagini reared up her teeth bared as she hissed. "Did you not see how much effort it took for me to just break through, what makes you think I can sustain this form?"

Potter turned and dropped down to his knees at once, his hand reaching out as he hissed in turn to Nagini. Nagini swayed, her anger waning as she coiled her huge body within itself. Satisfied, Potter stood and instead focused his demented gaze upon Bellatrix and Lucius who were stood together by the fire.

Voldemort's lipless mouth twitched as his Horcrux approached them.

"Bellatrix, Lucius, I trust I can count on your services should I require them?"

Bellatrix opened her mouth, looking set to argue, before she slammed her mouth shut and looked to her Lord for an answer.

Lucius however, jerked his head slightly, his eyes fixed upon Potter.

"Of course," Lucius said. "And how should we address you, My-?"

Potter grinned, his sunken eyes making him look demented.

"You will call me Tom."

The body was bloodied, twisted in such an unnatural position as it rested in front of the rose bushes. The Death Eater's neck was deformed, slit open and covered in patches of wet and dry blood.

Draco Malfoy's wand shook as he dug out a deep hole in the hard ground.

Absently, Draco touched his own neck, his cold fingers feeling alien to his touch. It should have been his neck that had been gouged open.

Potter had already proved he was capable of slitting him open. Draco had the scars to prove it.

So why was Draco still alive. And why had Potter waited until the Dark Lord was in the manor before attempting to flee. It didn't make any sense.

With a single flick of Draco's wand, the body rose and fell into the deep hole, before a small pile of earth followed and deposited itself in the grave.

Draco turned, his face set with determination as he started back towards the manor entrance.

He wanted answers.

Draco entered Potter's prison with hard determination.

"Why am I not dead?" he demanded. "You had plenty of opportunities to attack me, why wait until another-"

Potter who had been poised on the side of the bed, looked up, his eyes alight with a sick amusement.

"I can soon fix that," Potter said, and with a single fluid motion was within two paces of where Draco stood.

All strength that Draco had evaporated instantly as he took a step backwards, his own wand fumbling in his hands.

But before either he or Potter could say another word they were interrupted by the most horrific sound.

Lord Voldemort's terrifying, large snake was hissing from where she had curled her head around a bedpost. In turn, Potter opened his mouth adding to the strange hissing noise that filled he room.

Potter looked truly disturbed, his eyes were dark and sunken, his skin pale and his hair as messy as it always looked.

Draco's brow furrowed as he tried to ignore his already pounding heart as he kept his voice as level as he could make it.

"You're not Potter."

A smirk flicked onto Potter's mouth. Draco instinctively drew his wand again but it might have well as been a toy.

"Then I suggest you leave now. Potter might have had reservations killing you, but I certainly don't."

Potter hissed something again to Nagini who hissed back in response, her large body curling around herself.

Draco didn't hesitate. He turned and left without a backwards glance. Whatever the hell had happened to Potter he was glad he was going back to Hogwarts in the morning.

Neville Longbottom pushed his trolley through the bustling station. Owls screeched and parents hurried their children onto the Hogwarts Express all while glancing over their shoulders.

Neville walked alone through the crowd. His grandmother had wanted to come with him but Neville hadn't planned on lingering on the platform any longer than he had to. Climbing aboard, he heaved his trunk along to an empty compartment right at the back of the carriage.

Minutes later, the door slid open and Luna Lovegood appeared, her trunk trailing along behind her. Neville scrambled up and they both hauled it up to rest in the luggage racks above their heads.

It was only once they had nothing else left to busy themselves with did they finally face each other.

"Ginny's just saying goodbye to her parents," Luna said.

"Right."

Ginny stormed into the compartment not a minute later. Her eyes were ablaze and her wand sparking black. With a single wave Neville felt the air around them pulse as a blanket fell over them, cushioning their voices to all who would listen.

"We can talk now," Ginny said.

But instead of the suddenly rush of questions, the silence descended again. Instead Neville looked at the remaining empty seats in the compartment.

"Ron and Hermione aren't coming are they?" he asked.

"No," Ginny said, her voice bitter. "The ministry think Ron's ill though, so if anyone asks just say he has spattergroit."

Neville was afraid to ask any more. The ministry hadn't gone into much detail about Harry's death, only that he had been murdered by Voldemort.

It was Luna who dared despite drawing her own arms around herself.

"What happened to Harry?"

Ginny's eyes fell, but she still proceeded with only a single shaky breath.

"The Order were moving him from his Aunt and Uncle's house. They were betrayed them. You Know Who was there waiting-"

Ginny explained the few details she knew.

Neville was astonished how well Ginny managed to keep herself together. It seemed she had moved all her grief into anger.

Even now, a flash of anger flitted across Ginny's expression.

"Snape was there."

"What?"

"Snape was right there, took George's ear off in the attack-" her voice choked. "We don't have a choice now. We fight to kill."

She looked between the two of them, daring them to disagree.

"Yes," Luna said. "I think you're right."

"Neville, are you in?"

Neville swallowed, but he nodded.

"I'm in."

Ginny had a world of ideas of how to get started on how to deal with Snape, including some nasty tips and tricks from Fred and George, along with a collection of undeveloped and rather dangerous looking Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

It was a few hours into the train journey when the compartment door slid open, members of the DA had occasionally popped their heads in, but now Neville looked up to see Malfoy with Crabbe and Goyle at either shoulder.

"Get lost Malfoy," Ginny snapped and she drew her wand.

"I'd watch it if I were you, Weasley," Malfoy said as he tapped his head boy badge on his chest with a smirk. Behind him Crabbe and Goyle snickered. "You wouldn't want a weeks worth of detention already?"

"I don't give a crap," Ginny snarled. "Unless you want me to curse you to hell, get lost."

Malfoy crossed his arms, leaning against the carriage door.

"Don't tell me you lot are still crying over Potter?"

That did it. The silence that fell over everyone was intense. Malfoy wouldn't dare.

Luna was staring at Malfoy with so much hate. Even the Slytherin's seemed shocked at Malfoy's nerve. Goyle's mouth was agape, and Crabbe seemed mildly impressed.

Ginny was so blinded with rage, she forgot that her wand was in her hand.

"Get out."

Malfoy seemed completely non phased by the comment, his mouth twitching into a smirk.

"Now that's not very welcoming-"

Ginny finally reacted, her wand flashing in sparks of red. Malfoy dodged to the side, his own wand catching her in a full body bind. Neville rushed to her side.

"I think you've just earned your first detention, Weasley," Malfoy said. "You shouldn't let Potter get you so worked up."

And with that he turned and left, Crabbe and Goyle's laugher carrying down the train.

Neville pulled out his own wand, freeing Ginny from the curse.

She pushed Neville away scowling, trying to hide the tears that welled in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Ginny. We'll get him back," Neville said.

"I'm going to tear that ferret face apart," Ginny snapped.

Neville sat at the table in front of him laden with food, his plate empty. It was too suffocating, too many people who should have been here were missing.

Neville glanced around, sweeping his gaze over the other tables. The sorting had been so brief this year, with barely half the number of first years than normal.

It was now someone completely unwelcome who stood in Dumbledore's place. Neville scowled as Snape moved to address the school.

His fellow colleagues sat silent behind him, and Neville was pleased to see that none of them were welcoming to their new headmaster.

The prophet had done a rubbish job of trying to discredit Harry due to Dumbledore's death. Everyone knew what had really happened and they weren't going to let Snape forget it.

Snape was silent for a moment before he addressed the school.

"Hogwarts has a high reputation to uphold," Snape began, his eyes sweeping over the angry students. "And as your new headmaster, this will be the priority. Standards must be kept high, failure to do so will result in expulsion. This also includes social behaviour as well as grades."

Neville exchanged glances with Seamus at this.

"Your new Defence Against the Dark Art teacher this year is Amycus Carrow, whilst your new Muggle Studies teacher is Alecto Carrow," Snape said. "They will also be taking on the role of Deputy Headmaster."

A squat and lumpy man and a stocky looking woman stood to an absolutely silent hall.

"Death Eaters," Seamus said, he had lent across the table to whisper to Neville.

Neville nodded.

"Don't worry, we'll get them too," Ginny muttered.

"I think we need a DA meeting tonight," Neville said. "We should start getting the word out."

There were at least forty people seated around the room which had accommodated for them with forty large squashy purple bean bags. Students from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were all huddled around waiting for them to start. Ginny was standing by his side while Luna had seated herself on a bean bag, immersed in the Quibbler.

When it seemed Ginny wasn't going to speak, Neville cleared his throat awkwardly.

Everyone's focus shifted to him and he suddenly found it very daunting. But Harry wasn't here. Not any more.

"We all know why we're here," Neville said.

No one moved, it was if they had turned into statues. Neville cleared his throat before continuing awkwardly.

"It hurts, I know it does," Neville said quietly. "Dumbledore has gone and we've all lost friends, Hermione and Dean have had to run for their lives."

He looked around at all of them who had stilled.

"And Harry-" Neville said quietly. Harry had always been such a strong figure of hope, he had been there for all of them. Neville didn't know how to give them hope.

"This is serious. We aren't just practising any more. This is real and it is going to be dangerous." Lavender and Parvati were nodding, while others looked so determined.

"Honestly, some of us might not survive this, so if anyone wishes to back out now-" Neville stopped, half expecting a few people to get up and move. When no one did he couldn't help but smile slightly. They could do this.

"We're in this together. And Snape and the Carrow's are going to suffer."

Lord Voldemort surveyed his Horcrux. Days had passed and the result had been satisfactory.

"Potter hasn't woken?" Voldemort said.

"No and nor does he want to," Tom said with the slightest bow of his head. "Nagini's presence has helped keep him sedate."

"Good," Voldemort said. "Then I need something important collecting, something I can only trust you to complete."

Voldemort had never expected such a promising result when he had initially began breaking into Potters mind. Yet before him stood a strong Horcrux, ready to do his bidding with unwavering loyalty.

"Your orders my Lord?"

"Potters wand is superior to mine," Voldemort said. "I need a stronger wand, one that will not lose."

"You have Potters wand, why would you need a more powerful one?" Tom asked.

"Because I intend for you to be more then a puppet," Voldemort said. "And you require a wand."

Tom tilted his head as he crossed his arms.

"You intend for me to use Potters wand?"

"Ollivander has informed me of another wand, a wand so powerful it will destroy all others."

Tom formed a twisted smile upon his face.

"And you wish for me to retrieve it?"

Voldemort nodded, his red eyes locked onto Potters unyielding green.

"Gregorovitch is your lead, he was last known to have it."

Voldemort reached into his robes and held out Potter's wand.

His Horcrux took it silently, his fingers curling around it as a thin smile slipped onto his face.

"I will not fail you, My Lord."

Chapter Text

Neville sat in the back of muggle studies, scratching his quill vigorously so that the ink bled across the parchment.

“Muggle's are a blight on the world,” Alecto Carrow drawled as she strolled up and down the front of the class. “They are stupid, dirty creatures who should be eradicated in the first instance-”

Neville took a steadying breath, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was all he could do to save from either throwing the ink bottle across the room or reaching for his wand.

Carrow's voice was grating, permeated through all of his attempts to block out her drivel. The first half an hour had been just as bad, as she made it explicitly clear how they were expected to behave in her class. Be on time. No speaking unless spoken to. This class is mandatory and anyone who doesn't attend will be punished accordingly.

Neville's nearly snapped his quill. Across from him, Seamus caught his gaze and shook his head in warning.

It was fortunate that the bell rang when it did. Any longer and Neville would have definitely done something stupid.

Neville swept his stuff into his bag, swung it over his shoulder and followed Seamus, Lavender and Parvati hurriedly out of the classroom.

“She has got to be one of the foulest people ever,” Lavender said, as soon as they were further down the corridor and out of earshot. “How are we supposed to learn anything?”

“Forget learning,” Parvati said. “Did you hear what she was saying about muggleborns?”

“I thought I was going to be sick, does she really expect we'd just turn our friends into the Ministry-”

Seamus scowled, expression darkening.

“Last I heard, Dean said it's pretty dangerous out there. They have these groups called snatchers whose sole job is to hunt them down. He had a nasty encounter he nearly didn't get out of-”

They made their way through the busy corridor, the three in animated conversion while Neville trailed behind. By the time they got to the grand staircase he had no desire to join the throng of students heading to the Great Hall for lunch. Instead, he waved goodbye and began the climb to the seventh floor.

It was going to be a long year.

The common room looked empty. Ginny Weasley however, was curled up in a large armchair, a transfiguration book resting in her lap.

She looked up as he approached.

“Skipping lunch too?”

“Lost my appetite,” Neville said. He threw himself in a comfy chair, letting the heat from the fireplace wash over him.

"Let me guess?” she said dryly. “You had one of the Carrows.”

Neville watched the flames hiss and split for a second before nodding.

"You too?"

Ginny's expression hardened and she looked away.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

Neville sighed and lent back pressing his hands to his face.

“My first class is tomorrow. I imagine Amycus is as bad as his sister?”

"Yes, but you won't have to worry about that," Ginny said lightly. She picked up her book, a strange smile crossing his lips. "I've been thinking about what you said in the Room of Requirements last night, and I think we have our first target.”

A hard lump lodged itself in Neville's throat as his heart skipped a beat. The look on Ginny's face made his decision so much easier.

“What's the plan?”

Ginny smiled thinly, relieved that he hadn't objected.

"They're Death Eaters. They took out Harry. We take out them."

Neville slipped forwards onto the edge of his seat.

“If we get caught they could chuck us in Azkaban.”

Ginny laughed, actually relaxing as she reached into her bag and extracted a small glass vial.

"Do you think I've learned nothing from Fred and George?” she said. “We don't get caught. It's that simple.”

She shook the vial and an odd green substance swirled inside. It had small flakes of a hard black composite and looked very similar to the substrates of one of the deadly plants Professor Sprout had been growing last year.

“Poison?”

“Mmm,” Ginny hummed, curling her fingers around it. “If it's not treated immediately it can kill, or at least put someone in St Mungo's for a decent stint.”

Neville found his gaze turning to the portraits that lined the walls. They were either snoozing in their frames or seemed preoccupied with their own conversations. Ginny noticed.

“You don't need to worry about that. They can't hear us, and they shouldn't be able to see us properly either.”

Neville's nodded, mind racing as he turned his attention back to the fire, watching it flicker, casting its warmth and shadows across the room. He shivered.

“I'll speak to Seamus...I think there's something else we can do too.”

Neville sat at the Gryffindor table, his breakfast untouched as he stared blankly at this mornings copy of the Daily Prophet. It had a pink pamphlet tucked inside on 'MUDBLOODS and the dangers they pose to a peaceful Pure-Blood Society'.

Ginny slid onto the bench opposite him, a steeled look on her face. Without meeting anyone's gaze, she started adding bacon and eggs to her plate.

Neville set the paper down on his lap, resisted the urge to turn around and inspect the teachers table.

“Eat,” Ginny whispered. “Someone will notice otherwise.”

Neville reached reluctantly for his pumpkin juice, didn't think he'd manage to hold down anything solid, but the Great Hall was steadily filling up with students, the buzz of chatter growing louder, they'd have to make their move soon.

Ginny seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“Ready?”

Neville inclined his head every so slightly. Underneath the paper, he flicked his wand, cast a hurried notice-me-not charm, and whispered “Wingardium Leviosa.”

The small poison vial floated a few inches from the ground, it hovered there for a second before shooting away underneath the Gryffindor table. Beneath her robes, Ginny flicked her own wand, gently nudged the bottle towards their target. Neville kept his gaze locked deliberately the other way, took another sip of his pumpkin juice.

After a few seconds she looked back to him and smiled.

“Did you hear about the Chudley Cannon's game last week?”

It was the signal. Neville twisted his wand, knowing that the bottle had found its target. Right over Amycus Carrow's morning pumpkin juice.

“Can't say I did. Any good?”

“Pretty good,” Ginny murmured. Another signal. Neville flicked his wand, the obscured and now emptied poison bottle whizzed away up into the rafters.

There was a moment where Neville couldn't breath, dare not look round towards the teachers table. If he thought his nerves were wrecked before, this was something else entirely.

Ginny on the other hand had turned back to her breakfast, was happily putting more food onto her plate. Neville's stomach twisted, couldn't bear the wait-

There was a clatter, a series of panicked shuffles from behind. Students were starting to turn, gape openly up at the teachers table.

Amycus Carrow had started to cough and splutter, his face turning a distinct unnatural purple colour as he bashed against the table. Next to him, was the remnants of the spiked pumpkin juice, dripping slowly into a puddle on the floor.

None of the other professors had moved, were staring almost indifferently as their colleague began to frantically choke and flail uselessly before them.

Snape moved swiftly, his robe billowing behind him. He paused in front of Carrow, pointed his wand directly towards the pumpkin juice. A single droplet formed and hovered at eye level. He peered at it carefully, his expression sharpening.

Ginny had taken out her pocket watch, idly glanced at it.

It would be any second now...

BOOM!

Neville jumped, adrenaline coursing through him as the castle walls shook. Dust and debris crumbled down from the rafters. Neville leapt up, mirroring those of his classmates. There was screaming, panic, the rush and confusion as students tried to work out what had happened.

Neville chanced a grin towards Ginny, he hadn't expected the sound to be so loud-

Snape shot forwards, his wand slashing upwards. A deadly silence descended as he marched forwards, raised his wand to his neck to amplify his voice.

“Return to your dormitories immediately,” he snapped. “And you will stay there, until I have visited each one of the houses personally.”

The spell broke, the loud buzz returned as people began to move. Neville tugged at Ginny's sleeve, noticed his own hands were trembling.

“Come on.”

Reluctantly she followed, tore her gaze away from Carrow, who was still coughing and spluttering, had collapsed to his knees and was shaking violently.

They followed the throng of other students, merging with other Gryffindors as they hurried back up to the common room. In the distance, Neville could still hear the distant sound of further explosions and bangs.

Inside, there was only chaos, as excited theories of what had happened started to fly about the room.

“Maybe it was Peeves-”

“Can't have been, what about Dumbledore's ghost!”

“Or Potters!”

Ginny swore under her breath, her eyes darting across the crowd.

“Where's Seamus?”

Neville's head whipped around, his heart skipping a beat. Parvati and Lavender had just entered the portrait, were gasping, clearly out of breath.

Ginny waved them over, gesturing to an empty corner of the room.

“Did it go okay? What happened?” Neville whispered, glancing over his shoulder.

Their terrified wide eyes were enough. Lavender started sobbing.

“I-I don't know,” Parvati said, shaking her head desperately. “One second Seamus was with us, then the next he wasn't. We set off the fireworks as planned, and the whole defence class went up like nothing you'd ever seen. Those permanent paint bombs covered the entire corridor...but Alecto Carrow was right there, she saw us-”

Neville swore, turned helplessly back in the direction of the common room door. Ginny lunged forwards, seized his arm.

“Don't, you can't help him now.”

“We can't leave him!”

A horrible dread was coursing through him. He had to do something-

“Neville, just please think for a minute,” Ginny hissed. “Blowing up a classroom is one thing, but if you get caught-”

A horrid stillness consumed him, but she was right. Neville clenched his jaw, took a deep calming breath of air. It didn't help very much.

He sat down, tried not to throw his head into his hands.

The next hour passed at a horrible slow pace. The common room had fallen into hushed whispers, rumours becoming more exaggerated as they waited.

Neville paid them no attention. Every now and then, he would get up and start pacing, until Ginny jerked him back down into his seat.

“Could you look any more guilty!” she hissed.

At last, when Neville thought that maybe nothing was going to happen, the common room portrait creaked opened.

Professor Snape entered, robes trailing behind.

An instant hush fell across the room.

Slowly, Snape began to pace back and forth, gaze piercing as he looked from one person to the next.

“I hope I do not need to express the seriousness of what has happened today,” he said coolly. “However, I'm sure you'll all be relieved to hear that no lasting damage has been done to Professor Carrow...fortunately, as a potions master I had the remedy immediately to hand...otherwise we would be having a very different conversation.”

“Shame,” Ginny muttered. Despite her indifferent tone, her eyes were ablaze with fury.

Neville's heart skipped a beat.

“How did he know what cure-”

“Shh-”

“Whilst we attend to the damage that has been done, Defence Against the Dark Arts classes will be postponed for the immediate future,” Snape continued. “However, I will warn you, that any student that is caught doing any nefarious activities, will suffer the most severe consequences. Am I understood?”

There was a distinct mumble from the Gryffindors.

Snape's eyes were unblinking.

“I will be interviewing students, until I find the person who is responsible. However, I will give the perpetrator just this one chance to come forwards....”

There was a silence. No one moved.

Snape sneered, his black eyes shinning. And then his gaze settled on Neville.

A shiver ran down Neville's spine, but he didn't look away, clenched his jaw defiantly.

Snape's lips curled into a rather nasty smile.

“Longbottom,” he said softly, voice so terribly cold as he pressed a single finger to his lips. “Let's start with you. My office, now.”

Instead of his own self preserving fear, Neville clenched his wand tightly in his pocket as he walked through the empty corridors.

At least if he was going to be expelled and sent to Azkaban then he may as well fight. Perhaps he'd have time to run, could even find Dean and meet up with him, or even Ron and Hermione.

Snape didn't say a word, choosing to remain horribly silent as they ascended the steps to his office.

Neville followed, gaze shifting around the room. He'd never been in Headmaster's office before, but he immediately spotted the portrait of Dumbledore, snoozing soundly, in a large comfortable armchair.

Across the room, a large display case stood prominent in the corner. Inside, along with an assortment of magical devices Neville didn't recognise, was the sword of Godric Gryffindor. It's blade shimmered, rubies set into the hilt. He didn't get chance to think on it further.

Snape spun round, expression livid.

"Mr Longbottom," he snapped. "Why did you poison Professor Carrow?"

Neville wetted his lips, met Snape eye to eye.

"I don't know what you're talking about-”

“Liar!” Snape hissed. He slammed his hands upon the desk. “I can read your every miserable thought, Longbottom. Do not try and fool me-”

Neville stuck his chin out and glared back.

"I didn't have anything to do with it."

But Snape's lips curled into a horrible smirk.

“We'll see about that-”

There was a sharp knock on the door.

Neville exhaled, kept his hand curled tight around his wand. He was sure it would be Alecto Carrow, ready to come and take vengeance for her brother.

It wasn't. 

Professor McGonagall marched into the room, her lips pressed so tightly together they had gone white.

Snape moved behind his desk, his tone suddenly very cold.

“I trust you have a good reason for disturbing us, Minerva?”

“I've come to deal with Mr Longbottom,” Professor McGonagall said stiffly. “He is after all my student, and as such if he is determined to be involved in any of the activities today, the punishment should come directly from me.”

Snape folded his arms, pulling his robes across himself. He looked like a giant bat.

“I have already confirmed his involvement.”

“Then I will manage his punishments,” McGonagall replied, a steely edge to her tone. “I do not need you telling me how to discipline my students.”

"Of course not," Snape said coolly. "However, given the severity of the situation-"

“You don't have any proof,” Neville snapped. “I wasn't involved.”

Snape's nostrils flared as he focused on him.

“Alecto Carrow already has Mr Finnegan, who has confessed to the whole thing,” Snape hissed. “Unless you wish to find yourself joining him in the dungeons-”

McGonagall cleared her throat loudly, took a step forwards to place herself directly between Neville and Snape.

"I'm sure we can both agree that one months worth of detention with myself should be sufficient. Unless you would like to waste your own evenings dealing out punishments, Severus.”

Neville froze, could see that McGonagall had drawn her own wand. He took a step forward, not wanting her to come to blows with Snape on his behalf...he didn't get a chance to respond.

Snape's eyes narrowed. There was a moment of stillness, where no one moved. Then finally, Snape nodded curtly.

“Just get Longbottom out of my sight,” he hissed.

Neville didn't wait to be told again, he dashed out of the office, but not without a second look back towards Dumbledore's portrait and Gryffindor's sword.

Professor McGonagall didn't speak until they were several corridors away from Snape's office, and nearing the grand staircase. She rounded on him, her face white as a sheet.

“As much as I should tell you not to poison your Professors, you need to be more careful, Longbottom. If I hadn't been here, I dread to think what would have happened.”

Neville let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, but it was replaced by another wave of dread two second later.

“What about Seamus?”

McGonagall pulled herself straight, a flicker of fear crossing her face.

“I will do what I can, but if the Carrows have him already-”

“I want to help,” Neville started, but she raised her hand.

“You can help by returning to the common room as soon as possible.”

Neville nodded stiffly.

She turned, and he watched as she moved quickly down the stairs. He hesitated, wished to follow before he glumly started to make his way back to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

She swung open and he stepped inside, finding Ginny, Lavender and Parvati still huddled in their corner by the window.

Ginny leapt up, relief apparent as Lavender shook her head, tears in her eyes.

“What happened? Did you see Seamus?”

“I'm fine, just a months worth of detentions with McGonagall. But you were right. Alecto Carrow got to Seamus-”

Ginny swore.

"It'll be okay," Neville said, gripped her gently by the shoulders. “Seamus is tough.”

But Ginny shook her head, drew her arms around herself.

"They're Death Eaters, Neville," she said quietly. "They'll kill him. I mean in Defence-"

Neville gaze sharpened.

"What happened Ginny?"

"I-" she shook her head, fell silent for a second and kept her eyes on the floor. "Carrow wanted to demonstrate the effects of the cruciatus curse.”

Neville froze, a hard lump forming in his throat.

"What? He cast it on you?"

Ginny nodded, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on her shoes.

"I know Harry had been subjected to it. Knew that it was going to hurt...but I didn't expect just how much...I wanted to die."

Neville pulled her into a hug.

"Ginny. It's okay."

But his own anger was rising. No one else should have to suffer.

Ginny seemed to take awhile before she noticed the anger in Neville's eyes.

"Oh Merlin, Neville, I didn't think, I'm sorry-"

Neville cut across her sharply.

"Ginny it's fine. I get it. This isn't going to stop us avenging Harry.”

Ginny wiped her face on her sleeve, and took a steadying breath.

"I just hope Seamus is okay."

Neville nodded firmly, his voice sounding more confident than he believed.

"He'll be fine."

Neville's eyes were burning when he woke. The first thing he noticed was Seamus's empty bed.

Trying to ignore the horrible twisting sensation in his stomach he dressed quickly and rushed downstairs.

The common room was frustratingly empty.

He rushed out the portrait, robe half hanging from his shoulder so he nearly didn't catch the deliberate cough behind him. He halted, spun around and found the Fat Lady staring patiently at him.

She placed her hands on her hips.

“I thought you were never going to stop. Your friends left you a message. They wanted you to know they're in the usual meeting place.”

Neville's heart skipped a beat.

“Thanks-”

And he was off, racing down the corridors, dodging round a couple of first year students who had obviously gotten lost, and was soon pacing three times back and forth opposite the tapestry of dancing trolls.

The Room of Requirements materialised and he ducked inside, was immediately surprised to see Luna, Cho, Ernie and Susan along with Ginny, Parvati and Lavender all crowded around Seamus.

Seamus had dried blood across his head and a large black and blue bruise developing around his left eye.

"What happened?" Neville gasped, staring in horror.

Seamus squinted and cracked a grin, revealing his split lip and a lost tooth.

"I can't look that bad can I?"

Neville spluttered, failed to offer any words of reassurance.

Luna drew her wand. Seamus shook his head.

"I already tried that, that's how I got this." he gestured to his black eye. "Turns out they want other people to see, I think it's supposed to discourage other people."

"So physical punishments?” Ginny asked, her voice shaking slightly. “That's how the Carrow's are going to deal with us?”

Seamus shrugged.

"Seems like it. It was pretty brutal I can tell you that much. Might scare a few people out of the DA but we'll see, it's not like people are going to forget what they did to Harry any time soon."

“Well we need to be more careful either way. I think Snape can read minds,” Neville said. “He knew it was me who'd poisoned Carrow.”

“That's going to make not getting caught a lot harder,” Ernie added. “Me and Susan were talking to a few other Hufflepuff's, trying to get them to join...but they seemed pretty reluctant.”

“I'm not surprised,” Cho added quietly. “It's the same in the Ravenclaw common room. People are scared.”

"So what do we do now?" Ginny asked.

Neville paused, but he already had a few ideas forming in his mind.

“We should target Snape,” he said, expression shifting into something hard, as everyone turned to look at him surprised. "He killed Dumbledore, so should be our main focus now...plus if he can read minds we need him out of the way before we deal with the Carrows."

"I think you're right," Luna said with a smile. “Harry would want us to keep going.”

Neville nodded, confidence growing.

"We can't stop now. We just need to hit back harder. I'm not going to stop fighting just because I might get a slap on the wrist."

"Or a night being tortured in the dungeons," Seamus added.

"Fine, but we should aim to cause as much chaos as possible," Ginny said. “If we're going to get punished in classes regardless, we may as well make it worth it.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Great," Neville said. “To start...I think we should steal the sword of Gryffindor.”

September first had come and gone, and Ron and Hermione were held up in Grimmauld Place. It was strange not to have boarded the Hogwarts Express and returned to school, but they had kept themselves surprisingly busy.

They were currently sat in the study, pouring over books that had filled the Black family library. Hermione was reluctantly reading a book on Horcruxes, whereas Ron was trying to find as much information on R.A.B.

Regulus Arcturus Black.

It was their only clue to solve who had stolen the Horcrux.

Ron had his chin propped up with his elbow and was staring off into the distance, a deep frown on his face.

Hermione stood up and stretched, welcoming a break from the endless pile of books.

“What's wrong?”

"I don't understand," Ron said quietly, drumming his fingers against the desk. “Kreacher makes no sense.”

"What do you mean, he makes no sense?" Hermione asked. They had seen little of the house elf. He had occasionally been found hiding in the kitchen but it was apparent that he was just as eager to avoid them as they were.

"Well, why is he still here?" Ron asked. "Surely he'd have gone to Bellatrix Lestrange by now? If Harry's dead, he doesn't have a reason to hang about. He can't exactly want to stay in this dingy place."

Hermione's mouth parted slightly. 

When she didn't immediately answer, Ron stood and held out his hand.

"Come on."

It took them less then a minute to find the house elf. He was hunched over and skulking by his cupboard in the kitchen. He started mumbling under his breath as soon as they appeared.

“The mudblood and the blood traitor are here again-”

Ron ignored him, stepped forwards and crouched down.

"Kreacher, who is your master now?"

The elf cast him one horrible look of disgust and turned away and started muttering under his breath again.

"Look, why are you still here?" Ron said louder this time.

Kreacher turned around and stared at Ron with his ugly expression. He blinked a few times.

"The blood traitor makes no sense."

"Harry is dead," Hermione said, "So why haven't you left and gone to Bellatrix Lestrange?”

"The mudblood speaks to me. Kreacher must not listen,” Kreacher said, clasping his bony hands across his large ears.

"Hey," Ron snapped and drew his wand. "Just answer her. What are you still here? What happens when your master dies?"

Kreacher looked at Ron and observed his wand carefully, he scowled unpleasantly.

"I still have a master," he grumbled.

"Are you spying on us?" Ron spat out, angry sparks spat from the end of his wand. “Did she send you here?"

“Ron, careful-” Hermione grabbed his wrist nervously.

Kreacher glared back at Ron, it seemed he didn't want to engage in any further conversation but he answered anyway.

"This house belongs to my master. I have not been given permission to leave."

Hermione's stomach lurched, and she met Ron's suddenly terrified gaze. For a moment, she couldn't find the words, didn't dare breath.

“Harry's alive?” she whispered. “That's what you mean, isn't it? That Harry's alive?”

Her legs had suddenly gone very weak, and she grabbed Ron's arm, pinching it tightly.

Ron hadn't moved. He'd frozen, expression hardened as if not daring to believe. But it made sense, that was the only reason the elf remained in the house. There was no other explanation.

“Kreacher could be lying,” he said stiffly. “He could be serving Lestrange and we'd never know.”

"Miss Black," Kreacher grumbled unpleasantly. "She would rid this house of filth like you."

Hermione gestured triumphantly as if this statement proved her point. Ron stilled as he stared bewilderedly down at the elf.

"That's impossible," he barely managed to whisper. "He just can't-”

"But if Harry's alive," Hermione said quietly, clasping one shaking hand with the other. “Then what happened to him?”

Kreacher looked like he was about to sneak off but Hermione and Ron both both directed their wands at him this time. He stilled, unpleasant face glaring up at them.

"It doesn't made any sense," Ron said. “If Harry was alive, he'd have found us already. He wouldn't let us continue to believe he's still dead.”

Hermione however was feeling a rising sense of dread. They had already had many late night discussions regarding this scenario and had always drawn up with desperate hopes and ideas. But there was something they Ron has suggested, something that made horrible sense.

"You said that You Know Who might have captured him-" 

Ron gave a bitter laugh.

“You Know Who wanted Harry dead remember?”

Hermione shook her head.

“They never found Harry's body, remember? And if You Know Who murdered him, he'd want everyone to see, want us to know that all hope was lost.”

Ron crossed his arms, before he flicked his gaze down at Kreacher.

“Can you go to him?”

Kreacher gave Ron an unpleasant look as if he was stupid.

Ron sighed and repeated his question, raising his wand threateningly.

"We'll leave you alone if you do," Hermione said suddenly.

“That's not going to work,” Ron said. “You can't negotiated with house elves-”

Hermione waved her hand dismissively towards him. "We'll stay out of the kitchen from now on, and any other rooms you wish."

Kreacher stared at her, his brow furrowing. He was silent for a moment, his mouth twisting in the most horrible way.

"And Master Regulus' room?"

Hermione felt a rush of emotion run through her, could barely contain the rising hope. Ron's mouth had parted slightly.

"Done."

The elf only responded blankly, blinking up at her.

"I only go if I am called..."

“But...surely, if Harry is in danger, if he can't call you then it's your duty to go to him?”

Disappointment and frustration was coursing through her, but Kreacher merely blinked again.

"The way is blocked."

Ron and Hermione turned to each other in shock and confusion, with more questions then they had started with.