Keeping Appearances

By: TheEscapeFromReality

Harry walks the halls of Hogwarts seriously injured and is confronted by the Slytherins. They take him to Snape, who uses Legilimency to make a startling discovery. Is Dumbledore really who he says he is? Is Harry really on the right side of the war? Goodish!Voldemort, No Slash, Powerful Harry, Mentor Snape, Good Malfoys, super bad Dumbles, very abused Harry, AU Goblet of Fire

Status: complete

Published: 2011-05-04

Updated: 2014-03-17

Words: 98599

Chapters: 20

Rated: Fiction T - Language: English - Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family - Characters: Harry P., Severus S., Lucius M., Voldemort - Reviews: 1,537 - Favs: 7,573 - Follows: 4,321

Original source: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6963092/1/Keeping-Appearances

Exported with the assistance of FicHub.net

Chapter 1

So this was a little story plot thats been dancing around in my head. I decided to give it a try. :)

Good!Slytherins, Goodish!Voldemort, BAD!Dumbledore, Severitus, May have Character bashing, powerful Harry, No slash!, warning: abuse, scences of torture

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own plot and any OC characters.

Now on to the story!

The blinding pain was on the front of his mind when he limped out of the office. The young black-haired man glanced around the dark hall warily, before continuing on his way. The searing pain from his back was agonizing, but he had become used to the torture. For his entire life it had been all he knew. Running a hand through his sweaty black hair, he revealed his lightning-bolt scar that had sent him on the course of all this anguish and trials.

Biting back his bitter thoughts, Harry Potter trudged down the halls of Hogwarts. There was only an hour until curfew and no one was out and about. This made Harry very relieved, because he didn't feel as if he had the power to keep up his glamour any longer. He had to take a pain relief potion and a strengthener soon before he collapsed, nonetheless keep up appearances.

Harry Potter was always known for having extraordinary luck, but also for having completely awful luck. He figured that fate had to even it out somehow, and that's how it worked out. And, unfortunately, today just happened to be one of those days that was absolutely and irrevocably terrible.

Draco Malfoy and the rest of his Slytherin band were the last people he wanted to see while he was so weak and so likely to fall apart. But they were coming right towards them, laughing and smirking like the bunch of snakes they were. Harry assumed they were plotting the death of some unfortunate Hufflepuff, and glared.

Their laughs came to a clear halt when he came into their sight, and they all stopped in unison, about ten feet away from him.

"Potter," Malfoy sneered, his grey eyes narrowing as he observed his rival. All of the other Slytherins watched the exchange, smirking. "Where are the Weasel and the Know-it-all? I thought you couldn't go five minutes without them holding your hand."

Harry flushed when all the Slytherins laughed, and tried to ignore the jab. "I'm not in the mood, Malfoy," he said angrily, trying to push through, but Malfoy blocked his path easily.

"What's wrong, Scarhead?" he mocked, his eyes hard on Harry's.

"Just leave me alone," Harry hissed. He was having a difficult time trying to block out his pain, and he was beginning to succumb to the overwhelming agony he was feeling. He tried to push through again, but Theodore Nott grabbed his by the arm, causing him to flinch. He pulled out his wand, and was met by many wands being pointed at him.

Harry let out shallow pants, the effort getting to him as he tried to keep up his glamour, and he felt his magic supply began to slip into nothingness. Even if he wanted to, he didn't think he'd be able to use magic to defend himself right now.

The Slytherins were known for being observant and clever. They observed the Boy-Who-Lived who was clearly in a lot of pain.

"What's wrong with you?" Blaise Zabini questioned curiously, lowering his wand.

"Nothing," Harry snapped, glaring daggers at the Italian boy.

"Don't lie, Potter," Malfoy retorted. The blonde eyed Harry with something akin to confusion. "Why do you look like you just wrestled a dragon?"

"None of your bloody business," Harry gasped out, trying to sound threatening. He turned around and was about to take off when Malfoy grabbed him roughly by the arm and spun him against the wall, slamming his injured back. Harry winced, biting back a cry of pain, but the Slytherins all saw through his mask.

Something was very wrong with the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Let go of me, Malfoy," Harry demanded, trying to push him away with the little strength he had left.

Daphne Greengrass stepped next to Malfoy and narrowed her eyes. "What's with you, Potter?" she asked suspiciously.

Harry tried to struggle free, but surrounded by the many Slytherins, he couldn't break free. He felt his resolve start to fade, and he lowered his head, now trying to put all his energy into keeping up the façade.

"If you're going to torture me, then get it over with already," Harry muttered darkly, causing all the Slytherins to flash looks at each other. They had never seen the Gryffindor so submissive before.

"You look like you don't need any more," Pansy Parkinson sneered, but her normally harsh tone softer. There was a hint of worry in her eyes as she observed Harry, but she quickly hid it from him and the others.

"Honestly Potter, we aren't as bad as you make us out to be," Malfoy offered, glaring at him in frustration. "We don't gang up on someone like this. We at least like two or three of you here to torture." At that, Malfoy smirked.

Harry met the blonde's eyes coldly. "Then why do you have me pushed against a wall, ferret?" he hissed, but closed his eyes in pain as he was pushed a little harder against the wall.

The Slytherin went red in the face, and his eyes sparked in fury. "Don't call me that," Malfoy ordered angrily.

Harry didn't answer, but let out irregular breaths as he tried to keep up his glamour. He felt it slipping away slowly, piece by piece.

"You're so stupid, Potter. I don't see how anyone thinks you're special," the blond Slytherin went on ruthlessly. "You're weak, and pathetic, and-"

He broke off when the black-haired Gryffindor fell to the ground, letting out gasps of pain as he felt his mask finally shatter.

"Potter!" All the Slytherins seemed to exclaim in unison.

Malfoy reached out and heaved him up, and was stunned by what he saw. So stunned, that he almost dropped the Gryffindor. All of his friends stared at the so-called Golden Boy in astonishment, shocked by what they saw.

He was covered in bruises and cuts, and he was shaking uncontrollably. Harry was also very thin, and unnaturally pale. To their biggest alarm, he had huge, gaping wounds on his back that were bleeding quite profoundly.

They were all shocked into a stupor, until Daphne Greengrass hesitantly spoke, breaking the silence.

"What happened?" she murmured, her eyes flaring in what could almost be seen as anger.

"I-I fell," Harry lied breathlessly, trying to stay conscious. He felt terror overcome him, and he gasped. He couldn't let them find out! No one was supposed to know.

Blaise Zabini cursed at him.

"Stop bloody lying, Potter," Malfoy hissed. His normally cruel expression was blank with shock. "Who did this?"

"No one," Harry insisted weakly, trying to block out the consuming, flaming hurt he was experiencing. "I fell."

"You didn't bloody fall, Potter!" Malfoy yelled in frustration, causing the injured teenager to flinch in the tight hold.

"Draco, we need to get him to the Hospital Wing," Pansy said, concern lacing her voice. "He's losing a lot of blood."

Malfoy caught her eye, his anger dropping, and nodded.

"No-please-don't-you can't-"

Nott interrupted his desperate words, looking astounded. "For Merlin's sake, Potter," he growled. "If you're not treated soon you're going to die!"

"I'm fine! I don't need your help!" Harry managed to spit out, trying to force himself out of Malfoy's grip.

"Stop this, Potter," Malfoy said, his eyes dark as he observed the so-called Savior plead for them to let him fend on his own and most likely die.

Frantic emerald eyes met grey ones. "I can't go to the Hospital Wing," Harry panted.

The Slytherins all looked at each other, trying to figure out what to do and why the Gryffindor was refusing to go to the Hospital Wing. Sure, they knew he hated it, but no one hated it this much.

"Stun him, Draco," Blaise suggested. "We can take him there by force."

Draco turned and listened, and nodded, considering the idea.

"I'll tell them you did it," Harry threatened weakly, trying to hold his eyes open. "I'll blame you and said you probably were scared I was going to die, and so brought me there. I'll do it, I swear-"

" Shut up, Potter," Daphne demanded, with her eyes wide as she watching the Gryffindor fall into weak blackmail.

"Let's bring him to Snape," Malfoy suggested quietly, his thoughts still on the desperate green eyes. There was something terrible happening to Harry Potter, something he had to find out.

Harry stiffened and tried to argue, but he felt he had no strength left to do so. He stubbornly attempted to keep his eyes open, but he failed and fell into a world of black as he lost consciousness.

When Harry opened his eyes next, he was greeted by the sight of a blurry blue-grey bedroom. He reached automatically to the side of his bed for his glasses, and his hand found them and gripped them. Harry brought them to his face and put them on, satisfied when his eyesight adjusted. He glanced around in confusion, taking in the nice oak desk and bookcase, and the large blue bed he was currently in. He was also pleasantly surprised that his back wasn't killing him like he expected, but he was just generally sore and felt only a sting of pain.

It was only when his brain processed how he got into this room that he started to panic.

Snape! They took him to Severus Snape, who was the meanest professor at Hogwarts, the dungeon bat, the greasy git, and the man who loathed him!

Harry gasped, trying to even out his frantic breathing. He managed to calm it down a little bit until he searched for his wand and found it nowhere. His eyes widened in panic and his heart raced.

He couldn't lose his wand! He'd die! Voldemort would get him, or his death eaters. He was not safe without his wand, especially when Snape of all people was watching him right now.

Speaking of Snape, Harry observed the room warily, expecting the man to jump out from behind the grey curtains, or the nice bookcase. If this was Snape's quarters, the man obviously had better taste then his daily black robes show.

Harry scurried off his bed, glancing at the nightstand again for his wand. He wished that whoever had put his glasses there also had put his wand there, but apparently not. Knowing Draco Malfoy, Harry was sure the Slytherin stole his wand or something.

"Mr. Potter!" A voice he knew all too well snapped at him.

Harry's head snapped up to look into the endless pits of the Potions Professor. Snape was looking just as pleasant as always, with a sneer on his face and glaring at his student.

"And what, do I presume, is your ridiculous reasoning for getting out of the bed without permission?" he drawled, in his silky, dangerous voice. "Even with your lower intelligence level, I find it hard to believe just how daft you can be."

Harry glowered at his professor, ignoring the comment expertly. "Where's my wand?"

Snape raised an eyebrow elegantly, his expression now bored. He slowly extracted something from his robe pockets and Harry was startled to see his wand in the professor's hand.

"That's mine," Harry said, his tone accusing as he glared at the potions master.

"Once again, your intellect astounds me, Potter," he sneered, walking towards the boy smoothly. He stopped five feet short of him, assessing the Gryffindor carefully, before extending him the holly wand.

Harry reached for it desperately, and smiled when he felt the familiar trill of power. He brought the wand to his chest, clutching it tightly, before glancing back up at Snape.

"Why did you have it anyways?" The Boy-Who-Lived demanded with his tone curt and abrupt.

Snape's eyes blazed. "I will not be spoken in such a manner, Mr. Potter," he growled, his black orbs cutting into the emerald ones. "I expect to be addressed with respect."

Harry scowled at Snape, but nodded angrily anyways.

"Sit down, Potter," Snape ordered, folding his arms across his chest.

Harry frowned, annoyed at the man's demand. He could stand if he wanted to! Harry knew it was childish, but honestly he was being treated like one, he might as well as act like one.

"Don't make me ask again," Snape whispered in dangerous tones. "In your condition, you shouldn't be on your feet yet."

Harry's eyes met Snape's quickly, on the alert. Would Snape buy his cover-story? He couldn't find out! Not Snape, not anyone. But there was something about the Potions Professor; he always seemed to know when he was lying. Harry prayed that this wouldn't be the case this time.

Harry averted his eyes from the professor, biting his lip. "I fell down a set of stairs when I was heading back to the commons," he lied quickly, trying to sound as convincing as he could.

There was silence for a moment, and Harry shifted his feet as he waited for the verdict, still not daring to look Snape in the eyes just in case his face expressions gave himself away.

"Sit down, Potter," Snape said quietly, and Harry was so shocked by the teacher's response that he complied.

Harry slowly raised his gaze, and Snape was wearing an unreadable expression. Harry searched his face for any sign of irritation or knowledge of the deception, but the man was carefully blank.

"Why didn't you go to the Hospital Wing, Mr. Potter?" Snape questioned, his eyes suddenly a bit too piercing for Harry's liking, and he quickly looked away.

"I hate it there," Harry said, trying to make it sounds believable. "Madam Pomphrey would never let me go to Quidditch or see my friends and-"

"So you are saying that you ignored a severe injury and suffered a great amount of pain over a pointless game and a few hours away from your fan club?" Snape interrupted smoothly, his eyebrows raised.

Harry grimaced, trying to think of a quick way out of the situation. "It wasn't that bad," Harry protested weakly, his head lowered as he played with his hands resting on his lap.

"You could have died if that injury wasn't treated," the black-haired man informed him coldly, his black eyes observing the obviously lying teen. "And what makes this matter even more puzzling is the fact that you had many other scars on you that were years old. Quite interesting, actually."

The Gryffindor felt every ounce of bravery drain from him, and he began to shake. Snape knew he was lying, and he saw his many other scars. Harry felt his oxygen escape his body, and he began to hyperventilate slightly, but he fought the urge to completely break down.

"Now I want you to tell me the truth Potter," Snape whispered dangerously, leaning in. "And I will know if you're lying," he added, an underlining threat in his statement.

"I am telling you the truth!" Harry protested hotly, his hands clenching in his lap.

Snape was not impressed by the statement. "Liar," he accused cruelly.

Harry's head snapped up, frustration flowing from his expression. Their eyes met for an instant, but that moment was all Snape needed.

" Legilimens," the Slytherin Head of House snapped.

A pressure pushed against Harry's mind as he felt the invasion. Memories flashed by, and Harry could do nothing against the force that was causing this. He had been through this before, and knew he could only sit there helpless as he was mentally raped. He watched the scenes he had already experienced pass by.

He was in charms class, laughing at Ron….. He was playing quidditch with the Gryffindor team…. Sirius Black was offering him the chance to live with him during the summer….. Ginny Weasley was lying motionless on the cold, chamber floor….

And then Harry was met by one of the memories that he had been praying wouldn't come up through the haze of scenes. Harry saw himself in the Headmaster's office, and frantically tried to push away the memory. Snape couldn't be allowed to see it! Harry knew it would be the end to all he'd been working for, all the years of keeping appearances up.

But it was all in vain. Harry couldn't stop the trained legilimens, and he was at the mercy of his Potions Professor.

Harry stared at a twelve-year-old version of himself, on his knees before Albus Dumbledore. The Headmaster pointed his wand at the young student. Harry was frozen as he watched his younger self be sent painful spells raining from cutting curses to bone-breaking curses. The twelve-year-old Gryffindor suffered rather silently, but he let out a cry after a rather deep cut on his side.

The Headmaster immediately stopped, his blue eyes flashing dangerously and the memory Harry looked up in sudden fear.

"I'm so sorry, Headmaster," he began apologizing, his emerald eyes wide as he tried to hide his evident pain. "I didn't mean to be weak!" The boy reached for a dagger from the Headmaster's desk, and stabbed it into his arm. He sliced his arm, and blood poured out, but the second year Gryffindor only looked at Professor Dumbledore for approval.

"Do it again, my boy," Albus encouraged, as if teaching him something completely ordinary.

Harry quickly obeyed, digging in the blade to his wound again.

"Good job, Harry," the Headmaster said cheerfully, his eyes twinkling. "You're parents died because of you after all. It was your fault. We don't want their sacrifice to be in vain, do we?" The professor nodded, smiling at the boy. "Yes, if we keep your training up, you'll be able to defeat Voldemort in no time."

Harry returned the smile, but his emerald eyes were alight with pain.

"Thank you, Headmaster," he murmured, bowing his head submissively.

Harry felt his mind be torn from the memory, and he grabbed his head from the pressuring hurt. He found himself looking into Snape's astonished black eyes.

"What was that?" he gasped, fury etched over his face.

Harry gulped, trying to think of something to explain it. He shook in fear as the man's face got more and more deadly from Harry's obvious desire to cover it up.

"I-it-we-" Harry's attempts were cut short by Snape.

"Don't you dare, Potter," the man threatened, his eyes blazing and he was looking completely livid. "I just saw a memory of our Headmaster torturing his student. This will not be covered up by your lies, Potter!"

Harry flinched back, his emerald eyes haunted and dark. "I need this, sir," he whispered, and this made Snape even more disturbed.

His Slytherins were very right when they brought Harry Potter to his chambers. Something was very, seriously wrong and, like always, the Boy-Who-Lived was right in the middle of it. And the worst part was that now he was in this mess too.

And with those thoughts on his mind, Snape let out the longest chain of swear words he knew.

Hope you liked it and you didn't think it was too gory/crazy. And, as you can tell, Dumbledore will be very bad/manipulative in this story. So don't read if you like Dumbledore. Give me your thoughts on it and what you'd like to see! My outline is still rather rough and I need some advice on pairings and what not. I would appreciate so very much your reviews! Well… Happy reading:)

Chapter 2

Hey all! Thanks for the positive feedback and reviews:) I don't have any firm pairings yet, so I'll take any suggestions, just no slash pairs. Also, anything you want to see in this story, tell me, and I'll see if I can fit it in:)

Enjoy!

Severus Snape had a very big problem. Not only is his Headmaster, who he had thought was the Leader of the Light, torturing a student, but that student also happened to be Harry Potter. And not only did Harry Potter want to keep it secret, he thought he needed it, deserved it even. Snape had never lost his composure quite like that before, but the frightened gleam in his student's eyes was enough to make him stop and take a deep breath. And now, still staring at the Boy-Who-Lived, he wondered what to do next.

"Mr. Potter," he finally began, carefully assessing the Gryffindor. "What exactly is your reasoning for me allowing you to continue to be tortured by the Headmaster?"

Harry bit his lip, praying that Snape would agree with his responses. "I need to train for the Dark Lord's return, sir," he said quickly. "If I can't take pain then I will be vulnerable and an easy target to be taken down."

Snape closed his eyes in horror as the boy quoted back some of what Dumbledore had said in the memory of Potter from second year.

"While that is noble, Potter," Snape spoke seriously, opening his eyes, "you are not responsible for the Dark Lord's demise and nor should you be tortured to train for it. It is wrong."

"You don't understand," Harry snapped, his emerald eyes glowing with frustration. "You didn't kill your parents!"

Snape shook his head in disbelief, anger starting to fester even more in his being. "Did your wand kill them, Potter?" he asked coolly.

Harry seemed to know where he was leading with this, and quickly deflected the question. "Would they have died if I hadn't lived?" he questioned darkly.

"He told you the prophecy," Snape whispered in realization, and at the boy's startled expression, he had confirmation. "HOW DARE HE?" Snape exploded, and his fury magnified. He panted short, curt breaths as he tried to reign in his temper.

Harry stared at the Potions Master, and felt his fear rising as he waited for the man to turn his anger on him. It always happened like that. It started with Voldemort, then Uncle Vernon, and now Snape. The Headmaster was the only one who didn't turn his rage on him, but actually wanted him to get better so he would never face anger he couldn't handle. Professor Dumbledore actually cared about him.

Snape, realizing Harry's misguided ideas, tried to calm down and figure out what to do. Knowing how stubborn Potter can be, Snape knew he could not go to the Ministry, and they probably would have a hard time believing an ex-Death Eater over the omnipotent Albus Dumbledore anyways. That meant that he either had to convince Potter and get help from the other important teachers and leaders, or run away with the boy and probably be charged with kidnapping. Snape pinched his nose, wishing he had another easier solution.

Snape turned his ebony gaze to Harry, and handed him a vial. "Drink it," Snape ordered curtly. "It's for the pain."

Snape didn't mention that it would also probably knock out the boy until he figures out what to do with the current situation.

Harry hesitantly took it, but glared at the professor in distrust. "How do I know this isn't poisoned, sir ?"

Snape grabbed the vial and took a small sip, showing it wasn't harmful and knowing the small amount in his system would cause no significant change.

Harry paused for a moment, and then examined the vial, before finally downing the potion. The Gryffindor relaxed, his facial features becoming less taut and he faded into a deep sleep, barely processing the effects of the potion on his body.

Snape observed the unconscious Boy-Who-Lived, and knew what he had to do. Snape only knew one man that he trusted that was high in power and hated Dumbledore. With this knowledge in mind, Snape quickly left the sleeping Potter and moved into his living room of his quarters. Kneeling by the stone fireplace, Snape swiftly tossed floo powder into the flames.

"Malfoy Manor," Snape called out in a clear voice.

Snape waited for a few moments until he saw a blonde aristocratic man staring back at him.

"Severus," the man spoke, looking a bit surprised. "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I need to speak with you, Lucius," Snape informed grimly, "right away."

Lucius eyed his good friend curiously. "Very well, I'll step on over."

Snape cancelled the connection and stepped away from the fireplace. Seconds later, the fireplace flared and the tall, dignified man came out of the flames. He tossed his blond hair away from his grey eyes, and walked over to greet the Potions Master.

"Please, take a seat, Lucius," Snape offered quietly, sitting down on one of the chairs in the room.

Lucius nodded, and took a seat across from him gracefully. "Now, what did you need to speak to me about?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in interest as he observed the stiff professor.

"Your son and his peers came to me this evening, Lucius," Snape started softly. "They came to me with a student who was in critical condition both physically and mentally." Snape paused, looking down to stare at his folded hands. "I tried questioning the student, but he resisted and continued to lie to me. I then resorted to using legilimency on him to see what he was hiding, and the truth was… unsettling." The Slytherin Head of House got to feet, and walked over to the fireplace, his back to Lucius as he tried to remain composed.

Lucius waited for his friend to continue, feeling somewhat uneasy as he saw Snape struggle to keep calm.

"Severus?" he questioned.

Snape turned back to face the blonde aristocrat, his eyes dark. "Our headmaster was torturing the boy in the memory I witnessed," he said dangerously, his voice colored with anger.

Lucius stared at him in astonishment, going tense in shock. "Dumbledore?" he asked in disbelief. " Albus Dumbledore, the leader of the light, was torturing a student?"

"Not just any student," Snape said gravely.

Lucius observed him critically, a sense of dread settling within him. He was almost afraid to ask who the student was.

"Who is it?" Lucius whispered after a moment of tense silence, his grey eyes searching.

Snape turned away again, staring deep into the fire. The Potion Master was silent for a minute, as he gathered his strength to answer. "Harry Potter," he finally said.

"Harry Potter?" Lucius echoed, his voice showing just what he thought of his friend's response. "You must be joking, Severus, surely-"

"I wish I was," Snape cut in, his dark eyes piercing as he walked back over to the incredulous lord. "I'll take you to him. He is unconscious in one of my spare rooms."

Lucius followed him into the hallway, and held his breath in apprehension as Snape pushed open the ebony door. Lying on the blue-grey bed was a black-haired teen, clearly deep in sleep as they approached. Lucius gasped as he took in Harry's thinness and his deathly pale color. The blonde searched for any signs of injury, but there didn't seem to be anything else.

"I healed him all last night," Snape explained, his hands in fists as he observed the teenager he had been perfectly content on hating just a few days ago. Now, he found it hard to hate such a troubled young man. "He had multiple slashes from what I guessed where from cutting curses, and his back had a large, deep wound. And I'm afraid this wasn't a one-time occurrence, if his scars were any indication."

"How long?" Lucius murmured. His gaze was unmoving from the Boy-Who-Lived as he spoke.

"Since first year, I believe," the dark-haired professor answered, also staring at the Gryffindor student. "The memory I saw was when he was a first or second year. And the pure devotion he showed to the Headmaster-" Snape stopped, shaking his head, and turned to meet Lucius' own angry eyes. "Potter feels he deserves this treatment, and welcomes it."

"That twisted old bastard," Lucius whispered, fighting to keep his magic under control. "I'm no fan of Potter, but even I wouldn't do something so inhumane. The Dark Lord would never torture magical children."

Snape nodded in agreement, realizing that of the two he was right to side with the Dark Lord. Dumbledore seemed a bit too manipulative from the very beginning, but he never thought him capable of such cruelty. But now that Snape had seen what he did to his so called "Golden Boy", it was obvious on who was the right side to be on. Dumbledore had caused so many rumors on the brutality of Lord Voldemort, and Snape knew that the majority of them were false. How could a half-blood hate muggleborns? And why would such a talented leader go around killing people for no apparent reason? The Dark Lord was trying to reform the Wizarding World and stop the corrupt leaders. Many of the old talents and traditions were dying, and he wanted to build a stronger world of magic. While his lord was no fan of muggles, he didn't go around killing them, but merely saw them as insignificant scum and not worth his time.

"I need your help, Lucius," Snape said, exiting his thoughts abruptly. "You have the power to leak this information on the corruption of Dumbledore, and I trust that you'll do it properly."

Lucius nodded in understanding, but turned back to the unconscious Gryffindor. "What of Potter?" he asked.

"He believes his purpose of life is to end the Dark Lord, even at the price of his own," Snape said seriously, also observing Harry carefully. "He's been lied to for many years on the campaign of the Dark Lord and his ideals. I hope that by taking him away from Dumbledore and his opinionated peers that he can form his own conclusions."

"And the Dark Lord?" Lucius questioned smoothly.

"You know as well as me that he just hasn't been the same since the loss of his son and wife," Snape said quietly, his eyes darker as he thought of the pain their lord had experienced. "The prophecy was just the spark that caused him to truly express his anger. He tried to persuade the Potters that there was no need to fight him, but he had to defend himself when they didn't listen. Killing Harry seemed to bring him some sense of security and the thought of revenge must have overpowered him. After all, the Potters were involved in the lost of his family." Snape shook his head, feeling suddenly exhausted.

"Our Lord is slowly gaining his strength," Lucius said. "Soon he will return in his glory. Will you stand with him?" the grey eyes were suddenly sharp as he waited for the other man's response.

"Yes," Snape said softly, but firmly. "I will."

Lucius nodded in acknowledgement, before turning back to look at Harry. "You have quite the challenge ahead of you, Severus," he said silkily, smirking slightly. "Potter will be stubborn, I'm sure."

Severus inclined his head, having already realized that. "Indeed," he drawled. "I'll need your help Lucius."

"The boy hates me, Severus," Lucius disagreed, shaking his head. "And I would have to say it's a mutual feeling."

"Well maybe you should be more careful with the Dark Lord's possessions, Lucius," Snape snapped at him, glaring at the blonde. "You know as well as I that before he met the Dark Lady that he was a dark, uncontrollable wizard. You should have known that journal was something more than it seemed."

"The past is in the past, Severus," Lucius said coolly. "I know I made a mistake and should have never tried to get revenge on that filthy blood-traitor of a family. I didn't realize how important that journal was, and I only wanted them to get caught with a dark artifact."

"As it is, you better be appreciative that Potter did stop it," Snape said smoothly, frowning slightly. "The Dark Lord would never approve of it if he ever found out."

Lucius shuddered. "I would expect not," he muttered darkly.

"Come," Snape said, motioning to the door. "We should discuss the specifics on how to discredit Dumbledore."

Lucius nodded in agreement, and followed the Potions Professor after one last glance at the Boy-Who-Lived.

When Harry awoke, it was not to the blue-grey room he had been in when he took the potion offered from Snape. Realizing quickly that he had been tricked by the greasy git, Harry pulled out his wand in a rush, and sat up to observe his new surroundings.

The room had a much darker tone to it than the blue-grey one from earlier. The large, four-poster bed was covered in a black silk bedspread, and the majority of the large room was a black or grey shade. Directly across from the bed was a large window, with sweeping grey curtains, that led out to a balcony. Harry turned to his right to survey a dark desk made out of what looked like ebony wood. Close by the desk was a door, which Harry recognized as a bathroom. He turned to his left and saw a bookcase that matched the desk, and also a door. Harry got to his feet, landing on the dark hardwood floor, and made a run for the door.

Harry pulled at it again and again, but to not avail.

" Alohomora," Harry quickly whispered. Nothing changed, and Harry scowled. " Alohomora," he tried again, but the result was the same as it was the first time.

Frustrated, Harry turned away from the door and walked over to the balcony entrance, but found he was unable to open that door as well. Swearing under his breath, he flopped back on the bed, waiting for Snape or someone to make an appearance.

Knowing Snape, he was probably at the Dark Lord's Manor or something of the sort. Harry clutched his wand tightly at the thought.

Harry wasn't sure how much time had passed with him just lying on the bed, waiting impatiently for someone to tell him what was going on. In his irritation, he had taken to pacing every five minutes or so. His boredom got to such a point that he glanced at the books on the large bookshelf in the room, and found himself grimacing at the choices he had. Most of them were dark, and he had no clue which would be the best to occupy him without feeling wrong while reading it. Shrugging to himself, Harry grabbed a random book, barely sparing the title a glance when he reached for it. He looked at the black book in his hand, the title Dark Arts in Defense intriguing him more than he'd admit. Surely if it was a defensive dark arts book, it couldn't be too bad?

Sitting on the bed once again, Harry flipped to the first page and started to read.

During a battle, dark magic is hard to combat with when using its opposing, and weaker, resistance. While light magic is pure and much easier to control, the sheer magnitude of power that dark magic presents can overwhelm the light defensive magic. This is the reason why dark arts can be a good resource when defending against both light and dark magic, and much more reliable. While most wizards and witches are born with a certain aptitude for one of the two, and have more difficulty performing one compared to the other, dark magic can often be more powerful to use in defense even when you possess a stronger light magic capacity. Many wizards and witches refrain from using the opposite of what comes naturally to them, and often hold a dislike for the other. These magical properties, or capacities, are sometimes transferred through bloodlines, which is how many of the old and noble families developed the clear title of either dark or light. However, those belonging to a dominant light family are sometimes born with a greater gift for black magic, as it works the same with those born in a more darkly attuned family that receive a greater skill in white magic. Those that show clear prejudice depending on your magical preference clearly do not understand the manner of your cores, and the natural cause of your aptitude. Light magic, just as dark magic, can be used for good or wrong doings. A light magic such as the levitation spell can kill someone just as simply as a cutting spell, which is classified as black magic. Dark magic, especially when gifted with this ability to perform them naturally, can be much stronger when in the defense. When control is developed, the wielder of the dark magic is a force in both offense and defense, and especially powerful when trying to protect against the lighter magic. In these instances, it is shown that….

Harry didn't know how much time passed as he read, but he found himself thoroughly interested in the book. The explanations on the darker and lighter magic seemed to make so much more sense than all the lectures on the evilness of black magic at all times. Harry himself has noticed his power being higher when using darker magic than light, and wondered if that was why he had so much difficulty with light magic at times. The theories given from this book, and the matter of defensive dark magic, caused the Gryffindor to reconsider a few of the black and white assumptions he had made. Perhaps dark magic wasn't as evil as he thought. After all, like the book had pointed out, both white and black magic can kill.

Deep in thought, he fingered through the pages in the book, glancing at some of the spells with curiosity.

"Since when do you read, Potter?" a voice sneered from behind him.

Harry's turned, shocked, as he stared at Draco Malfoy. Resentment instantly overcame him, and Harry directed his wand at the blonde.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry spat, glaring at the Slytherin coldly.

Draco leaned against the wall by the now open door, smirking as he calmly observed his rival. "Seeing since I live here Potter, I should be the one asking you that," he said smugly.

Harry lowered his wand, surprised and confused. "I'm at your house, ferret? Why am I here?" he demanded, glowering at Draco.

Draco's smirk dropped, and he studied the Gryffindor carefully. "Don't call me that, Potter," he snarled, before relaxing again. "And Professor Snape brought you here, so you could be kept away from Dumbledore."

The black-haired teenager's eyes flashed in anger, and he got to his feet, his wand once again up. "I do not need to be kept away from the Headmaster," Harry growled, tempted to curse the blonde. "How dare you take me to Snape and then drag me to your house against my bloody will-"

"You really are insane, aren't you?" Draco interrupted, looking incredulous. He shook his head, unmoving from his casual position and making no attempt for his wand. "Seriously, Potter, what is wrong with you? Dumbledore was torturing you!"

Harry flinched at his bold statement, and shook his head in disagreement, and his wand went back into his pocket. "You wouldn't understand, Malfoy, so just shut up and-"

"Don't," Draco said harshly, straightening up and glaring at his houseguest. "Don't try to push this off as something I wouldn't understand !" he sneered, shaking his head in anger. "I get exactly what's happening Potter, and you need to stop being such a bloody git. I'd call you a Gryffindor for being so stupid, but all the other Gryffindorks have enough bravery and brains to actually stop the torture from a Headmaster. But you, Potter, you have absolutely no ability to be conservative to your own life."

Harry glared at him, but found nothing to say back to him.

Draco stared at him for a long time, before breaking the silence. "Look, Potter, you're going to be here for a while," he said quietly. "So either you can start realizing how ridiculous you have been or you can argue with Professor Snape, my parents, and me every day for hours. It's your choice, Potter."

Harry's hand twitched to his wand, but he resisted the urge to hex the Slytherin. Sighing, Harry sat down, avoiding the blonde's gaze.

He needed that training from the Headmaster, and if they couldn't see that they were blind. He wondered why a bunch of Death Eaters would care about him being injured occasionally by the training. Surely they would find that enjoyable? Harry was very confused now with what the problem was, and fingered the book on the bed as he thought over all that Malfoy had said to him.

"Give me one good reason why I should listen to you, Malfoy," Harry snapped at him, looking up abruptly.

Draco's eyes were piercing as he answered. "Because if you listen to us, you won't end up dead before you reach fifth year," he declared smoothly.

Harry snorted, but realizing how Draco was serious, stopped short. "You're not joking?" the Gryffindor asked darkly.

Draco eyed him grimly. "Look, Potter, the Dark Lord will return whether you like it or not. Dumbledore will try to torture you no matter what you do to impress him and eventually, when the Dark Lord does return, he will send you off to die. I just can't help but wonder why you think Dumbledore cares about you."

Harry stiffened slightly when Malfoy voiced some of the uncertain thoughts he had had during his years at Hogwarts, but stayed silent.

"Just think about it, Potter," Draco said in parting, before striding out the door gracefully.

Harry tried to throw all that Malfoy had spoken out of his mind, but as he continued to read the book of defensive dark magic, all the words in the texts just strengthened all that Malfoy had said. Cursing, Harry threw the book across the room, the Slytherin's words still echoing in his mind clearly.

I just can't help but wonder why you think Dumbledore cares about you. I just can't help but wonder why you think Dumbledore cares about you. I just can't help but wonder why you think Dumbledore cares about you.

Harry tried to convince himself that Malfoy had just been messing with him, trying to make himself doubt, but the sinking feeling in his stomach wouldn't fade. Deep inside Harry realized the truth of his rival's words, and could not ignore them. Going across the room, he grabbed the thrown book from the floor, and was once against lost in its tempting and enticing ideas.

Please review, and tell me what you think:) Just so you know, this takes place in 4th year and so far I am not planning on putting in the Triwizard tourney. If you wish I will, and I'm toying with the idea, but at this point it is not part of the story… Happy reading everyone:)

Chapter 3

Hey, here's your next chapter! Hope you like it, if there's anything you want to see in these next chapters just let me know:) Many of your questions will be answered soon I hope, including Voldemort's mysterious family! Thanks for your wonderful reviews:)

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is Rowlings, I only own plot!

Now, on to the story!

Harry expected to be facing more onslaught of Draco Malfoy's lecturing when he awoke, but to his surprise no one had bothered him all morning. Left to his own devices, the Gryffindor had spent his time reading and thinking about his situation.

Knowing today was Saturday, the headmaster might not notice his disappearance quite as soon as he would during weekdays. But seeing since he had a training session last night, the headmaster would expect him to do nothing to arouse suspicion, such as missing breakfast.

Harry sighed, wondering how furious the headmaster would be once he returned to Hogwarts. He tensed abruptly as he realized that he had no idea when this kidnapping would end. Being held at Malfoy Manor was like a nightmare, especially seeing Lucius Malfoy loathed him for stopping his dark plans and freeing Dobby. Not to mention, Malfoy served Lord Voldemort before Harry had vanquished him. With all that motivation, Harry was certain he could end up dead in a few hours. He shivered, hoping that somehow Lucius Malfoy would be more lenient.

A sudden noise jolted Harry from his thoughts, and he stared at a poorly dressed, wide-eyed house elf. In the air beside the elf was a floating plate which, from what Harry could see, was filled with delicious food. "I-I have came with y-yours breakfast young master, s-sir," the house elf stammered, clearly frightened.

"Thank you," Harry said gently.

The house elf stared at him with wide eyes. "Of course master, sir."

"Please, call me Harry," he requested, and before the house elf could protest, quickly continued on. "Now what is your name?"

The house elf practically fell over in her shock. "Tibby, sir," the house elf answered hesitantly, her huge blue eyes lowered.

"Well, Tibby, I'm sure glad you brought me food," Harry said lightly, smiling at the creature, "because I'm starving!"

Tibby smiled back timidly, and quickly set the plate of food onto his bed. "Yous is welcome, Harry sir."

Harry chuckled at how she spoke his name, but knowing it was the best he was going to get, turned to his food.

" Toxicum consectoamus," he whispered quickly, waving his wand in a circular motion over the meal.

When the white light floated over the food and vanished without change, Harry sighed in relief. His food wasn't poisoned, so that either meant Malfoy didn't want to kill him or he'd rather that Harry died more painfully than poison. Grimacing, the Gryffindor pushed those thoughts away and turned back to his food.

Grabbing the silverware, he quickly devoured the breakfast of eggs, bacon, hash browns, fruit and toast. Feeling quite satisfied, he turned back to Tibby, who made the empty plate vanish with a snap of her fingers.

"Thanks Tibby," Harry said, causing the house elf to twitter with a mixture of happiness and embarrassment.

"Nows that yous be done with your meal, Master Malfoy woulds like you to see him," Tibby said softly.

The smile slid off Harry's face and he frowned deeply. He knew that this silence and ignoring was too good to be true. Feeling a growing amount of despair and fear, Harry got to his feet. Following Tibby out the door, which she unlocked, he was led into a spacious hallway. Too on edge to admire the beautiful manor, he paid little attention to where they were heading as they swerved through hallways. After a few more turns, Tibby stopped in front of a thick black door.

"Master is in there, please go in," Tibby told him, before bowing her head and vanishing.

Harry took a deep breath, reassured by the wand in his sleeve. He grasped the handle to the door for a second, before drawing his hand back quickly. Closing his eyes for a second, they opened again with a hard determination.

"I can take torture," Harry muttered to himself. "I'll be fine."

Feeling slightly reassured, the Boy-Who-Lived knocked hesitantly on the door.

There was a moment's silence, before he heard the unmistakable smooth voice of Lucius Malfoy say, "Come in."

With a slight tremor of his hands, Harry opened the door carefully, and scanned the room. It was a nice, luxurious office from what he could tell, with no windows. But what captured his attention the most, even more than the lack of an escape, was the blonde, sharp-featured man sitting behind a huge ebony desk.

"Mr. Potter," the man said smoothly, looking up from some paperwork he was currently working on. "Please, come in and have a seat."

Harry nodded shakily and moved over to the comfy-looking black chairs across from Malfoy Senior's desk. Strategically picking the chair closest to the door, the black-haired student sat down stiffly.

Malfoy continued to write on the paperwork for a few minutes, leaving Harry in an uneasy silence as he tried to stay composed. When the blonde finally finished whatever he was working on, he placed down his expensive quill delicately, and his attention altered to the Gryffindor. Unnerved by his sharp grey eyes, Harry quickly averted his gaze to avoid Malfoy's.

"Mr. Potter," the man began harshly, causing Harry to flinch slightly. This did not go unnoticed by the powerful lord, and he eyed the Gryffindor fourth year with growing interest. He continued, attempting to soften his tone slightly. "Professor Snape has decided to place you in my home to protect you from your Headmaster's attentions-"

"I do not need to be protected, sir," Harry cut in, looking up to glare at the aristocrat.

Lord Malfoy raised an eyebrow elegantly, and he folded his hands together. "Is that so, Potter?" he asked scathingly. "Perhaps that is why my son and his peers had to levitate your unconscious body to their head of house, which of whom you lied to about being tortured by your precious headmaster."

Harry refused to drop his hard gaze. "I do not need to be protected," he repeated angrily. "It's for the greater good, which you wouldn't understand, being the Death Eater you are. You would never-"

Catching Lord Malfoy's enraged expression, Harry stopped abruptly, looking away in fear. He gripped his wand tightly, waiting for some sort of punishment. When the blonde aristocrat stayed silent, Harry glanced up cautiously, trembling. The man no longer looked furious, but the carefully blank expression sent a thrill of terror through the teenager nonetheless. Nothing good ever came from controlled anger.

"I'm sorry, Lord Malfoy, sir," Harry said quickly. "I didn't mean to insult you-"

"Yes, you did," Malfoy interrupted, holding up a hand commandingly. Harry watched the hand cautiously, falling silent and still. "And you are right, I do not understand."

The intimidating man gracefully rose to his feet, stepping away from his desk to move closer to Harry. Resisting the urge to run, Harry kept his face blank and held firmly to his wand while he waited for the man to lash out at him. Malfoy leaned against his desk, just feet away from the Gryffindor now.

"I clearly do not understand, Mr. Potter, so try to enlighten me," Malfoy spoke smoothly, but with a dangerous undertone. "I don't understand how torturing a young wizard is for the greater good. I don't understand why you would listen to a man who has done nothing but use and manipulate you. I don't understand why you obey Dumbledore without question, when he clearly has none of your best interests in mind. I am confused Potter, please explain to me."

Harry stared into Lord Malfoy's expressionless face with rising tension, trying to think of a good retort to these statements. "Its pain training for if I ever face torture or injuries from Voldemort," the Gryffindor said darkly, not noticing the angry twitch at the word 'Voldemort'. "Professor Dumbledore wants me to be able to tolerate-"

"Why does he expect you to kill the Dark Lord ?" The blonde lord asked coolly, his expression hard with anger. "You are just a teenager-"

"Voldemort killed my parents!" Harry hissed, his eyes glowing with a hidden power, before the potent expression disappeared and was replaced by helplessness. "He will come for me either way, so I have no choice."

"From what I know, the Dark Lord has no real, overpowering grudge against you, Potter," Malfoy spoke carefully, eyeing the Boy-Who-Lived with an unreadable expression. "If he learned you wish to stay out of the future proceedings, I am certain he would be obliged to leave you alone and-"

"He already tried to kill me my first year," Harry interjected, both desperate and angry. "What am I supposed to do? I have to fight him before he really kills me this time!"

If Malfoy wasn't so troubled by what the Gryffindor was saying, he would be relieved to hear the boy really does have some self-preservation after all.

"Potter, the Dark Lord was angry, understandably," Lord Malfoy said softly, trying to coax the teenager to calm down. "But I would assure you that my lord would not find it necessary to murder a teenager who wants no part in the war."

"He has before, why stop now!" Harry spat out, his hands in fists as he scowled at the older man.

"The Dark Lord never was one for pointless killing," Malfoy sighed, now looking weary. "That was merely lies and rumors that Dumbledore made up to convince others that the Dark Lord needed to be stopped. Just like Dumbledore lied about killing-"

"Dumbledore would not lie to me about this, and neither would my friends! Even the books about Voldemort speak of him as a cruel, heartless monster -"

"Enough," Malfoy commanded, his face cold as he stared at Harry. "Don't you dare presume you know the Dark Lord, he's been through more than you'd ever comprehend," he continued icily, stepping closer to Harry. "The reason he came after you in the first place was never completely about the prophecy, he never was one to believe in such utter nonsense, but because your parents were the main people who helped aid Dumbledore in killing his wife and son. Did Dumbledore ever tell you that ?"

Harry observed Malfoy in fear and denial as the blonde man tried to gain control of his breathing and stop his angry impulses.

"You're lying," Harry finally accused, but it was more pleading than firm belief. "My parents would never do something so horribly awful-"

"You never even knew your parents, Potter," Malfoy cut in harshly, before softening at the distress from the Gryffindor. "But, yes, they were probably misled just as you yourself have been."

Harry stared at Lord Malfoy in silence for a long time, before finally shaking his head. "I don't think Dumbledore-" he broke off, biting his lip. "I am going to need to think about this," he finally murmured.

Lucius Malfoy nodded at him slightly, giving him a small smile. "Of course, Mr. Potter," he said graciously. The man suddenly turned and sat back down behind his desk. "And while you are here, I hope you feel secured and comfortable," he added, leaning back in his chair. "Don't be afraid to ask for something."

"Thank you Lord Malfoy," Harry said quietly, looking away. He hesitated for a second, before deciding to be brave and ask. "And when will you release me, sir?"

Malfoy looked up at him in sudden alarm. "Potter, you are not a prisoner here," he said quickly, slightly troubled. "Yes, we do not want you close to the Headmaster, but we are hoping you would see it as more of a break from school than an imprisonment."

Harry's fists clenched. He wanted to believe Malfoy Senior when he said he was not a prisoner, but at the moment, that was what Harry felt he was. Just like at the Dursleys, this man could do anything to him. At least he still had his wand, but he knew that it really would hold no defense in the end. Harry couldn't escape even if he did manage to disarm or stun Lord Malfoy, and surely the blonde man could seriously hurt him if he tried.

But for now, he just had to stay on the man's good side to avoid punishment and to make the blonde lower his guard down. Taking a deep breath, Harry looked up to meet Malfoy's eyes respectfully.

"My apologies, Lord Malfoy," the black-haired teenager said carefully.

"Lucius," the man corrected, before glancing back down at the papers on his desk.

Harry stared at him in shock. "Excuse me, sir?" Harry asked, confused.

"If you are going to be residing here, it would only make sense for you to call me Lucius," he said casually, but his eyes were searching to find rejection to the familiarity.

The Gryffindor was astounded that Malfoy Senior would allow him to use his given name, but nodded shakily. "Yes sir," Harry managed to say, but then froze. "I'm sorry, sir-I mean L-Lucius-"

Lucius Malfoy held up his hand, halting the rest of the frantic apologies. "It's fine if you do not feel comfortable at first to use my name, Mr. Potter. I understand-"

" Harry," he blurted out before he knew what he was saying. Startled, Harry glanced at the blonde Slytherin, hoping the man wasn't too furious.

Lucius appeared surprised, but not at all irate or angry like Harry expected after interrupting him so closely after disobeying him. Harry knew doing either of the two would always set off adults, even the Headmaster, and so was suspicious when Lord Malfoy did nothing.

"You want me to use your given name, Mr. Potter?" the man asked delicately.

Harry tentatively nodded, realizing he truly felt safer when someone used his given name rather than his formal title. After all, his uncle either referred to him as some sort of degrading term, or spoke his last name with so much venom that it still causes unease when spoken. Even after four years of humane contact, the word 'Potter', especially when said from an intimidating man, can make him feel that familiar sting of fear.

"Very well, Harry," Lucius said softly. "I will in return of you using my own."

"Yes, si-Lucius," Harry answered evenly, managing to correct himself.

"Well than, Harry, feel free to roam around the Manor," Lucius said with a small smile that caused Harry to blink in surprise. "I'm sure the house elves wouldn't mind showing you around if you get lost. Tibby will bring you lunch whenever you request it, but dinner is at seven in the dining room. Go enjoy yourself till then." The man turned back to his papers, shuffling through them.

"Okay," Harry said quietly. He stood up, waiting to be dismissed. He waited a few minutes, being sure not to fidget, and Lucius glanced up. When he realized Harry was still there, he looked surprised. "Is there something else you needed, Mr. Potter?" he asked formally.

"No, sir," Harry murmured. He waited expectantly to be dismissed, knowing exactly how badly it ends when he leaves with no real permission.

Lucius scanned his face for a few moments, as if trying to figure out a complex puzzle. "You may go, Harry," he finally said quietly. "You do not need a clear dismissal from me unless you're being punished."

At the word 'punished' Harry shivered, but cleared it out of his mind and nodded. "Thank you, Lucius, sir," he intoned, before turning and leaving the room as quickly as possible without running.

Once outside, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He made it out unpunished, but he knew that next time he probably wouldn't be so lucky. But, trying to make the most of it, Harry decided maybe he would venture around the Manor. The Gryffindor could see that there must be something amusing to do there, after all Draco always boasted about it. Shrugging, Harry took off, hoping that he wouldn't come across Lord Malfoy again until dinner.

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was currently very displeased. Harry Potter, his pupil, hadn't showed up at breakfast and he seemed to be nowhere to be found. Frowning, the Headmaster stood up from his desk.

Surely, the boy couldn't be too injured? Dumbledore knew that Harry has experienced much worse, so that couldn't be the cause. No, the boy was probably just wandering somewhere.

Realizing he had been pacing, Dumbledore stopped abruptly. Turning back to his desk, he sat down heavily. Grabbing a lemon drop from inside his desk, he popped one in his mouth.

Closing his eyes, the Headmaster concluded that surely nothing was amiss. He assumed Harry would show up soon, for why would the boy just disappear? His pawn was too deeply involved and brainwashed to just walk out, and would never betray their training. However, the boy better have a good reason for just disappearing.

Smirking slightly, he considered all that he had told Potter. From all his comments about the Dark Lord and Slytherins and the need for his training, the boy would perform his piece perfectly when the time came. And once Tom Riddle is gone for good, along with Harry Potter, Dumbledore knew no one could stop him from taking power.

Draco Malfoy lounged back into the black couch, glancing at Pansy beside him. Daphne and Blaise were across from them, both reading quietly, while Theodore was writing vigorously on a piece of parchment. The Slytherin Common room was empty besides the fourth years, with most Slytherins either at the Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw quidditch game, or spending their time elsewhere.

Pansy played with her hair, eyeing Theodore slyly. "So, Theo," she started casually, causing him to pause in his writing and flash her a wary look.

"Yes?" he questioned quietly.

"I saw you talking to Granger earlier today, in the library," she said, watching him with a carefully blank expression. "What's with that new development?"

Draco flashed Theo a curious look, waiting for him to answer.

Theodore glared at her, looking affronted. "Please," he sneered. "Like I'd want anything to do with that know-it-all mudblood- "

"Oh stop," Daphne said sharply, closing her book with a snap. She rolled her eyes at him. "We all know that the pureblood supremacy is becoming less and less concerning. The Dark Lord never outright spoke of hating muggleborns, only to try to keep the wizarding world as strong and pure as possible."

"Yeah, Theo, if you like Granger why don't you act on it already," Draco added in, smirking. "Maybe go for a romantic stroll under the stars."

"What would they do anyways, read together?" Daphne cut in, amused.

Theo glowered at them as they laughed, but his cheeks were a little flushed. "I was only speaking to her about our project in Ancient Runes-"

"For three hours?" Pansy interrupted, her eyebrows raised. "Maybe you should have been a Ravenclaw, Theodore," she added, laughing.

A look of disgust came over Theo. "Me, one of those studious nerds?" he snorted, turning back to his essay. He continued to write on the parchment, ignoring his fellow Slytherins as they snickered.

"So I wonder if Theo's planned another three hour session with Granger," Pansy said innocently, trying not to laugh.

"Perhaps in the broom closet this time?" Draco suggested slyly.

Daphne and Pansy fell into fits of laughter while Blaise tried to hide his own amusement behind his thick book.

"If you children are finally done," Theodore said roughly, folding his arms over his chest in annoyance. "Maybe we could discuss our Potter problem?"

Four set of eyes flashed to him, all thoughts on the previous conversation gone.

"Draco, you said that you spoke to him?" Blaise said, finally turning away from his thick tome.

The blonde Slytherin nodded in reply. "Like I said, he's staying at the Malfoy Manor. So it will be much easier to get him to see reason."

"I can't believe Professor Dumbledore would do that to him," Pansy murmured, staring at the others darkly, all traces of the recent conversation gone.

"I can't believe Potter would allow him to do that," Daphne said coolly, her face a mask of detached disgust.

"What do we do now?" Theo asked, twirling his quill absentmindedly. "Dumbledore will figure out soon that Potter's gone."

"Let him," Draco said brusquely. "That bastard shouldn't be anywhere near Potter."

The other Slytherins turned to him in shock, surprised to see Draco show so much emotion over his rival. However, they nodded their heads in agreement.

"But soon Dumbledore will guess that he was taken somewhere, and we all know who his first suspects will be," Blaise said grimly, eyeing his friends seriously.

"Us," Daphne agreed softly, her eyes burning with an inner rage. "But we aren't Slytherins for nothing."

The others smirked in unison, knowing that if Dumbledore was going to try to break through them for the truth, he had a hell of a war coming.

"From now on, Potter is our honorary member of Slytherin," Draco said solemnly, glancing around his peers with a deep determination. "While we may have a mutual dislike for each other, I wouldn't wish what he's been through on anyone. He has been manipulated and forced to be a pawn for Dumbledore, and it's about time he formed his own conclusions about the wizarding world. Whether he follows the Dark Lord or not, Potter will not be killed off for an old man's plan."

Daphne immediately nodded in concurrence. "I saw how Potter was acting, and it… disturbed me." She took a deep breath, but her gaze never wavered as she held the blonde's own gaze firmly. "I'm in."

"Me too," Pansy said quietly, touching Draco's arm gently.

"Why not?" Theo said, grinning at them. "I can give Potter a chance."

Everyone turned to the last person in their group, awaiting the Italian's answer. Blaise stared at all of them for a long moment, before his eyes flickered back to his book. "Very well," he said casually, shrugging. "It's not like you guys would give me an option anyhow," he added, mock-glaring at the fourth years.

They all smirked in reply.

Draco leaned back in the couch, and changed the conversation deftly. "So, Theo, when is your next date with Granger?" he mocked, smiling in amusement as the dark-haired boy began to splutter.

Pansy giggled, and she and Draco continued to tease their comrade. Blaise turned back to his book with a sigh, and Daphne stared at the own pages of her transfiguration book with a lack of interest.

Despite her attempts to concentrate on the words on the page, she found her thoughts straying to a certain black-haired Gryffindor. Draco caught her eye, and seeing her silent struggle, raised an eyebrow in inquiry. She shook her head at him, and he turned away after a few seconds. Daphne abruptly grabbed a piece of parchment from her bag, and a quill. Slowly, she began to write, the other Slytherins all glancing at her curiously when they thought she wasn't looking.

"Transfiguration homework," she explained distractedly.

None of them believed her lie, and they glanced at each other in interest. But they shrugged it off quickly, knowing that there was no way they would get the truth out of the formidable witch. While Draco and the other Slytherins didn't want to admit it, Daphne Greengrass was by far the most intimidating person in their group.

Daphne smirked to herself when they all pretended to believe her, and turned back to the parchment in her lap.

Sometimes, being a Slytherin really had its benefits.

Please review, tell me what you think! I have a vague idea of pairings… and also, tell me when you want Harry to return to Hogwarts. I have a few rather loose ideas of how this plot is going to go… one includes the Triwizard tourney, so if you want that in the story than let me know!

Thanks, happy reading:)

Chapter 4

Hello readers! Here is your fourth chapter, please enjoy! Sorry for the wait, and I'm afraid to say I might take a while to update again. School starts tomorrow and I am still in a sport, so it takes up a lot of time. Hopefully I'll have another update in a week or two!

Pairings! So no slash, sorry. But, I am open to many suggestions! He is only in fourth year so it wouldn't be anything serious, and I won't play much focous on it, but I like to add it in there. So, with Harry:

Hermione

Ginny

Daphne

Susan

OC Tom Riddle's daughter

OC Draco's sister

Other

I am sorta leaning towards a Slytherin match, because honestly Hermione and Ginny are overdone and also they don't quite fit with the direction my story is heading. Daphne right now is the person I have set to be with Harry! So let me know what you'd like to see please, and what you think of Daphne/Harry! :)

Anything else, just let me know! Now on to the story!

Harry followed Tibby to the Dining Hall with a heavy heart. He was still uneasy about Lucius Malfoy, not to mention the fact that his wife would most likely be there as well. Harry wondered idly if Draco would visit again, but knew if he did it would probably be to do more gloating. The boy sighed.

His time at Malfoy Manor had actually been rather relaxing, and the Gryffindor had occupied himself by exploring the grounds and the interior. There was an enormous library, which was by far the most magnificent room Harry had seen in the whole manor. Outside, there was a quidditch pitch, a swimming pool, and a luxurious garden. A part of him was actually hoping for some blonde, ferret-like company because at least if Draco was here then he'd have something more to do. A little one-on-one quidditch match wouldn't be too terrible, even if he would be playing with the Slytherin Prince.

Tibby stopped suddenly in front of brown double-doors outlined in a gold design. Harry briefly wondered if it was real gold, but his speculations were cut short by the realization that Tibby wasn't moving anymore.

"We is here, Master Harry, sir," Tibby said, motioning to the large doors cheerfully.

"Thanks," Harry managed to get out, but was too tense to say any more than that.

He gave the elf a fleeting look, before taking a deep breath and pushing open one of the doors gently. Harry slipped into the room quietly, and, to his astonishment, met the cold, dark eyes of his hated Potions Professor. Harry froze, inwardly cursing. Snape was here now too. Dread settled into his stomach, and he fought the urge to run from the hall.

His startled green eyes scanned the large, extravagant dining table, and observed Lord Lucius Malfoy who was at the head of the table. On his direct right was his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, who was looking chillingly beautiful. She wore an elegant silver dress, which made her appear even more dignified, but Harry was convinced she could wear rags and still look majestic. Her blue eyes scanned Harry unrelentingly, observing him deeply as he took a few uncertain steps towards were they were sitting. Severus Snape, who sat directly across from Narcissa, shared a look with Lucius and nodded subtly. Lucius rose to his feet gracefully, smiling slightly at the black-haired teenage.

"Harry, please, come sit," the blonde urged, motioning to the seat next to Narcissa.

Harry complied tentatively, taking the offered seat as if expecting it to burn him. Sitting stiffly, he nodded to Lucius when the blonde continued to stare at him.

"Professor," he offered brusquely to the man sitting across from him.

"Potter," Snape answered coolly, but Harry noticed the greeting was void of its normal hatred.

Harry turned to the woman next to him and bowed his head slightly. "Lady Malfoy," he said quietly, trying to sound confident.

The blonde witch raised an eyebrow, scanning him with her cool mask, but it softened slightly after a few seconds. "Please, call me Narcissa, Mr. Potter," she offered politely.

"It's Harry," the Gryffindor said softly, shrugging slightly.

She smiled at him. "Well, Harry, I'm sure you're hungry," she said lightly. Raising her eyebrows at her husband, Lucius quickly caught on.

With a clap of his hands, three elves Harry didn't recognize appeared. With their arrival also came a sudden appearance of colorful and rich food on the table. Harry eyed the deluxe meal with something akin to amazement, quickly followed by incredulity. The fact that anyone was able to provide such lavish food on a regular basis astounded him. While he was used to the delicious feasts at Hogwarts, they were nowhere near this level. Not to mention, in the summer he was lucky to get even a piece of moldy bread and crusty cheese, which isn't even close to a real meal.

He schooled his thoughts before the three adults could notice, well-practiced with hiding how he was feeling to keep up expectations. He observed the expensive plates and silverware as he waited for the adults to eat. They started dishing themselves up slowly, flashing looks at the motionless teenager.

"Harry," Lucius said, causing the black-haired boy to look up for a second. "Aren't you hungry?" he asked, slightly confused.

The Gryffindor hesitated for a long pause, his eyes zooming around in a silent panic, before he shook his head slightly.

"You're not hungry, Potter?" Snape asked curtly, clearly in disbelief. His dark eyes observed the Boy-Who-Lived closely.

"No sir," Harry lied, flinching slightly under his hard gaze.

It was silent for a moment, until the Slytherin Head of House reached for Harry's plate. The teenager watched him in a resigned manner, expecting the man to take the plate away from him. To his shock, the Potions Professor proceeded with loading the fancy plate with all kinds of the luxurious foods. Harry gaped at Snape when the man set the plate back in front of him.

"Sir?" Harry gasped.

"I would think even you would recognize food, Potter," Snape sneered at him. "You're not that much of a dunderhead."

Harry grimaced at his comment. Staring down at the food, he wondered what possibly they would require for him to repay them for it. Thinking of the payments he gave his uncle, Harry shuddered.

"Eat, Potter," Snape urged coldly, his dark eyes unmoving from the Gryffindor. "I do not care if you want to throw a no-food-strike like a five-year-old, you will eat and you will be staying here. Going back to Professor Dumbledore is out of the question, even if I have to force-feed you myself!" He glared at the boy threateningly, as if daring the Gryffindor to test him.

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief as he realized what Snape thought his real reason for not eating was. He glanced to Lord and Lady Malfoy, who were eyeing him in both curiosity and displeasure, and he understood they felt the same. Sighing in relief, he became aware they didn't know how much of a freak he was. Until then, he might as well take advantage of it.

No longer being able to resist the delicious aroma from the dinner, Harry grabbed the silverware and took a bite. His eyes widened slightly as he tasted the great flavor. He continued to eat quickly, but at seeing their startled expressions, tried to slow down to a much more dignified pace. The adults talked about politics and such while Harry studied them covertly. The Boy-Who-Lived knew that their kindness couldn't last, and was wondering when it would end.

When Harry's stomach felt like it was going to explode, he had only finished half of his plate. He stopped eating, and the adults turned to him in confusion.

"Thank you for the meal, Lord and Lady Malfoy," Harry said formally, bowing his head slightly.

"You're very welcome, Mr. Potter," Lucius answered generously, his grey eyes scanning him in confusion. "But, are you feeling sick Harry?" he added, slightly concerned.

"No, sir," Harry said swiftly, glancing up for an instant before quickly looking away.

"You must have had a big lunch then, Harry," Narcissa said softly. "You didn't eat very much."

Harry looked down at his half-eaten plate, now feeling sick to his stomach. They were going to realize he was a freak, he realized in horror. Fighting back hysteria, he met Narcissa's eyes squarely. "Yes, Tibby did overdo it a bit a few hours ago," he lied smoothly.

"Then she'll be sure to be corrected on that," Lucius commented silkily.

"No!" Harry said loudly, shaking his head. At their surprised expressions, he quickly tried to salvage the situation. "I mean-she doesn't need to be punished-she was only trying to please me and its fine ! I really am not mad-"

"You misunderstand me, Mr. Potter," Lucius intervened, eyeing the black-haired wizard solemnly. "I have no desire to hurt the elf. I just wanted to make sure she knew what she did wrong in her over-excitement."

Harry leaned back into his chair in relief, glad he wasn't going to cause Tibby to be punished. But he was now afraid that Lucius would talk to her and learn he had been lying.

"Its fine, Lucius," Harry said quickly, adding his name in purposefully to try to soften the man. "I already spoke to Tibby, she knows not to do it again."

The blonde nodded. "Very well, Harry," he said lightly, dropping the argument.

Narcissa smiled at Harry when he looked at her, and the teenager was glad she believed him too. He didn't dare turn to the Potions Master, because he knew that man would see right through him in an instant.

The Slytherin Head of House stared piercingly at his student, not needing eye contact to know something was wrong with the Gryffindor. The Boy-Who-Lived was hiding something and he was going to stop at nothing to discover what.

Later than night, the Malfoys and Severus Snape relaxed in one of the many living rooms within Malfoy Manor. Sipping wine in an amiable silence, all thoughts were focused on a black-haired teenager who had retired to his room promptly after dinner. They had all conversed aimlessly over topics such as potion developments, the ministry, Dumbledore, Hogwarts, and Draco's progress. It was not until the peak of the afternoon that the biggest dilemma finally surfaced.

"Potter was lying," Snape murmured, holding his wine glass delicately in his hand and staring at the drink in deep thought. He swirled the liquid around, his spidery hands tipping the glass back in forth.

The couple glanced at him in alarm.

"What do you mean, Severus?" Lucius asked seriously, observing his friend in growing unease. His wife watched the perceptive man with equal anxiety.

"Something about that house elf story he told was off, but I'm not sure what yet," Snape remarked.

"We can call Tibby and question her," Narcissa offered, frowning slightly.

The black-haired wizard shook his head in disagreement, taking another sip of the wine carefully. "The reaction Potter has is one of the most important keys. We need to bide our time and leave Potter unaware. When we question her, it should be in front of him, when his guard is down."

There was a pregnant silence as the other two adults considered the Boy-Who-Lived and Snape's suggestion.

"He was different from what I expected," Lucius mentioned thoughtfully, his grey eyes eyeing Snape intensely. "He was submissive, pessimistic, afraid, and angry. I expected him to be furious, understandably, but whenever he thought he offended me too much, he instantly fell into a wave of apologies." The blonde wizard hesitated, trying to collect his thoughts. "Not to mention he stood in my office for about five minutes without moving after we finished our discussion. He was waiting for me to dismiss him verbally, but I had no idea he was there until I was about to get a file." Lucius shook his head, confused. "He was well-trained, whether by Dumbledore or someone else, I do not know."

"It's a sign of very firm discipline," Narcissa agreed, her cool eyes narrowed. "What do we know of his relatives?" she asked Severus, waiting with interest for the reply.

The professor placed a hand over his face as he considered. "I am unsure," he answered, unmoving from his position. "I assumed he was spoiled and adored by his relatives, but seeing the circumstances with Dumbledore I am no longer certain of anything."

"Could the abuse have started before Dumbledore?" Narcissa suggested grimly. "I find it unlikely that a normal child would submit themselves to torture so easily and be so accepting towards it."

Black and grey eyes were on her in growing alarm as they realized that fact as well. There was certainly something deeper at play here than they first believed.

A resounding popping noise startled them, and they looked at the abrupt appearance of Tibby in confusion. She was wringing her hands together, and had a look of utter panic on her face.

"What is it, elf?" Lucius demanded curtly.

The house elf flinched. "Tibby been going to check on Master Harry, and Tibby been seeing him twist and jerk in his sleep," the elf said with a quiver in her voice. "I's didn't know whats to do, Master Malfoy."

The three human occupants shared a quick look, before Lucius quickly strode out of the room. Severus and Narcissa followed quickly, running through the entrance hall and up the stairs. They managed to catch up with the blonde wizard when they got to the hallway where Harry's room was located. Barely stopping at the door, Lucius promptly pushed it open.

The sight that greeted them troubled them greatly. Not only was Harry Potter moving around as if he was being attacked, he was also screaming silently. Moving closer to the pale, sweaty teenager, they glanced at each other uncertainly.

"What should we do?" Narcissa asked, worried. She made a move to reach out to him, but Severus grabbed her arm hastily to stop her. She flashed him a perplexed look, questioning his action.

"He might lash out," Snape explained, letting go of her arm slowly, to assure she wasn't going to continue her movement.

"Why is he making no sound?" Lucius wondered out loud, examining the distressed teenager. "Did he use a silencing spell or something?"

" S cutum revelare," Snape said quickly as he waved his wand, having had similar thoughts as his friend.

Almost instantaneously, the silence was pierced by a heart-wrenching scream. The three were stunned by the sheer agony in the boy's voice.

"Try to wake him, Lucius," Narcissa said anxiously, motioning to her husband who was closest to Harry. "We can't just leave him in such a state!"

Lucius glanced at Severus for approval. The dark-haired man nodded.

"Just be careful," Severus told him gravely. "He might react in violence when you touch him."

Lucius nodded and slowly placed a hand on the teenager, shaking him gently. "Harry, wake up!" Lucius ordered loudly.

"No! Don't! I'm sorry!" Harry yelled, twisting away from the hand. "I'm sorr-" he broke off his second apology with a scream.

Lucius tried again, shaking him firmly, and this time green eyes snapped open. The teenager immediately flinched back, curling up in a defensive ball.

"Mr. Potter," Snape said seriously, albeit much more gentle than he normally spoke. "Its fine, nobody is going to hurt you."

The green eyes flashed to his, but they were hazy and unfocused. Snape was deeply unnerved and realized that Harry was still stuck in a flashback.

"Harry," Snape tried again, hoping he would respond to his name.

The black-haired teenager didn't move or acknowledge the word at all, but simply started lifelessly at Snape and the other two occupants.

"Use legilimency, Severus," Lucius urged, his eyes wide in barely disguised concern.

"I'm afraid it might pull him deeper into his shell," Snape whispered back hurriedly, his eyes still locked on Harry when he replied.

"You have to try," Narcissa insisted, looking up sharply from Harry to the Potions Master. "He needs to exit out of whatever trance he is in."

After another minute of screaming, Snape nodded in agreement, and stared piercingly into his student's blank eyes.

" Legilimens," he muttered, and was quickly pulled into the distressed teen's memories.

There was blood everywhere. That was the first thing that Severus noticed. Lying by all the blood was none other than the Boy-Who-Lived. Towering over him was a large, beefy man, who was holding a whip in his hands.

"Freak," the man hissed. "You killed your parents, you good for nothing whelp! You deserve this!"

The whip came down, and Potter gave no outward show of pain or acknowledgement, but was immobile on the floor.

Then, with a whirl, the abuser changed and was replaced by a woman and man. The woman had flowing red hair and striking green eyes and the man was sporting messy dark hair.

"Lily," Snape breathed, unable to look away from the woman he once loved.

But the pure loathing on her face warped her angelic features, and he felt repulsed by the level of hatred on both her and James Potter's face.

"Failure," James hissed at his son, who was watching the pair of them with wide eyes. "Disappointment. We should have never died for you!"

Harry shook his head frantically. "No, please, I'm trying-"

"Trying isn't good enough!" James spat out, and to Snape's shock, the man lashed out and kicked Harry in the ribs.

"You don't deserve our love," Lily added harshly, glaring down at her only child. "You don't deserve any love. You are just a worthless freak!"

His mother's words seemed to injure him more than James' actions. The black-haired teenager shrunk back, clutching his chest as if he had been shot.

"I'm sorry," he pleaded, holding back tears determinedly. "I can do better! Dumbledore is training me!"

"The least you can do is die for us, like we did for you, you pathetic boy," James yelled. "You deserve to die!"

They abruptly changed with a swirl to a man Snape recognized as Quirinus Quirrell. Quirrell quickly turned around and his turban fell to the floor. The deformed face of Lord Voldemort resided on the back of Quirrell's head.

"Die, Harry Potter," the Dark Lord hissed menacingly. " Die !"

The blood around Harry began to rise, and Harry tried to escape it, but he was frozen in terror as it flowed around his feet.

"Potter!" Snape yelled, trying to intervene.

The boy gave no response, his emerald eyes wide as the flood of blood continued to increase.

"Harry! Fight it, it's only a dream," Snape tried again, attempting to be both encouraging and commanding.

When there was again no response, the Potions Master quickly reached forward and pulled the boy out of the red fluids that were now waist-deep. Harry's eyes flashed to his in confusion and shock.

"Snape? What are you doing here?" Harry gasped out, his eyes huge as he frantically looked around. "The blood is-"

"Come Potter, it is time to wake up," Snape said sternly, gripping the black-haired wizard firmly by his thin shoulders. "This is merely a dream."

"It's not a dream," Harry whispered darkly, trying to fight his way out of the man's hold. "I killed my parents! I deserve-"

"No, Potter!" Snape snapped, furious. "Don't you dare finish that sentence, it is not true! Wake up now Potter or I'll put you in detentions from now until Seventh Year," he threatened, with his dark eyes glaring down at his student.

The emerald eyes were locked on the black gaze for a few more seconds, until suddenly Snape felt a jerk out of the memory. Breathing roughly, Snape almost fell backwards onto the floor as he entered the awakened world again, but managed to catch himself.

An upset teenager stared at the three adults in such utter fear and shock, that it chilled even the stone, icy heart of Severus Snape. Harry Potter stared at the old Slytherins shakily, waiting for some sort of lecture or punishment. To his great astonishment, Narcissa pulled him into an embrace, and the adults all noticed how he flinched at the contact. He went rigid from the hug, but after a few moments he relaxed and clung unto the blonde witch lightly.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Lucius asked carefully, grimly looking back from the stunned Snape to the traumatized Gryffindor.

The teenager looked up from the embrace, and found he was unable to answer. So overwhelmed by the nightmare, and the response from Narcissa, he couldn't find the will to speak.

"Rest Harry, we will talk in the morning," Narcissa spoke softly, laying the teen back gently onto his bed, and giving her husband a worried look.

Snape stepped closer while grabbing a vial from his inside robe pocket, and handed it carefully to Harry.

"It's a dreamless sleep," he explained in a monotone voice, still fighting to remain impassive to all he witnessed moments early in the boy's mind. "Go ahead and take it."

Hesitantly Harry grabbed the offered potion, eyeing it cautiously, before finally nodding and downing the potion. Only moments later, he slipped into a dreamless unconsciousness, leaving the three occupants staring at his immobile figure with mixed emotions.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Severus faced the Malfoys, feeling extremely disturbed.

"This is serious," Severus Snape whispered gravely. "This is very serious."

Lucius and Narcissa waited with heavy hearts as they witnessed Snape's apathetic mask be replaced by profound fury and concern. As they waited with bated breath, the Potions Master explained the dream in vivid description, and the two Malfoys were ready to cast a few unforgivable by the time he was through. Swearing to bring Harry Potter vengeance, the three powerful adults looked down on the sleeping teenager with a vow to do anything to bring him the justice and safety he so rightly deserved.

Please review and tell me what you think! Please no flames, no one likes those! If you don't like my plot then just don't read, there is no need to insult me! Constructive criticism always welcomed of course!

Happy reading:)

Chapter 5

Hi here's the next chapter! Sorry it took so long, school you know.. Anyways, I'm on break, so be expecting another in a week or two! Hope you like it! Thanks to all of you wonderful reviewers, you make my day!

Warning: Talk of abuse, flashback on abuse, depression/dark thoughts, good!Malfoys, Dumbledore bashing, OCness!

Disclaimer: I am not the awesome J.K. Rowlings, and I do not own Harry Potter. I do, however, own this plot and any OC characters. So yeah!

Would you like to see good!Hermione, good!Ron, good!Ginny, or any other good characters? For now, the Weasleys are just going to be ignorant to Dumbledore's real designs, maybe some small Ron bashing… Ginny will be good! I also think this will feature a good!Hermione and good!Weasley Twins, as well as good Luna, Neville, and a few other minor characters. Just let me know what you'd like to see!

Now, on with the story!

Harry was nervous. More than nervous actually, completely petrified with terror. He knew that when Tibby told him the Malfoys were hoping he'd come to breakfast, it was more than just an encouragement; it was a summoning, an expectation.

They were furious. He knew that Lucius would punish him sometime, but Harry had been hoping it wouldn't be so soon. Really, he knew that he deserved it. He had interrupted them with his pathetic nightmares and childish screaming. He was weak. Harry loathed it when others heard him during his night terrors.

The black-haired teenager couldn't quite understand how his silencing spell didn't hold up. It was troubling, surely. Now they'll know just what a freak he was. There would be no more meals, no more good conditions. Those were gifts only for those who deserved it, those who didn't kill their parents.

He deserved this. The pain was a good thing, it would only better him. But Harry closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the nights he had been held under the torture curse. Nothing his uncle ever did could come even close to that. The Gryffindor prayed that the cruciatus curse wouldn't be used as he remembered the agony that seared through every fiber of his being for what had seemed like endless hours. He could take anything, and he would, but he hoped he wouldn't have to suffer under that unforgivable.

Harry's eyes remained tightly closed as he tried to escape the painful memories. He couldn't think about it, not now. He had to go to breakfast, he couldn't disobey. That would only result in a worse punishment. But even with that knowledge, Harry found his head in between his shaking knees as he curled up on the floor by the bed.

Coward, he thought. He knew he was a coward. He was supposed to be a Gryffindor; he was supposed to be brave. But the sorting hat had been right all along when it had told him that he belonged in Slytherin. Sure, on the outside he had to keep up appearances, but not now. Right now he was a spineless freak, not courageous or worthy or good.

Harry wondered at Lady Malfoy's kindness last night, when she embraced him. Lucius hadn't seemed furious, but Harry knew he must be. Not only had he acted like a total baby, but Narcissa had comforted him. But it had been nice, for a moment, when the blonde woman held him. It was almost as if she cared.

Harry crushed that thought quickly, ruthlessly. That was about as likely as Severus Snape handing out candy and dancing around in a pink dress. Smirking at that thought, Harry relaxed slightly, uncurling from his position. Quickly, he froze again, recalling the other horrifying result from last night.

Snape. Severus Snape had seen dream. He knew about the abuse, his parents, everything. Gasping in panic, Harry climbed to his feet unsteadily.

He had to get out of here. He had to escape. Harry grasped his wand tightly, and ran towards the door, but then stopped suddenly. What was he thinking? He already knew that there wasn't a way he could leave. It's not like he could just walk right out the front door, they were sure to have protections and wards. The only way was by making the Malfoys let their guard down. And that also meant not ignoring their demands.

Tensing, Harry realized what he had to do. He walked out the door and down the nearby stairs, his heart pounding. After arriving much faster than he would have liked, Harry grabbed the door handles with stiff hands. Composing his face into a much calmer expression than he inwardly felt, he pushed open the doors that led to the same dining room as yesterday.

Harry had expected the Malfoys to be there, but seeing Snape as well made him want to just run away as fast as he possibly could. Terrified, he stood in the doorway, waiting for a sign from one of them to proceed. They looked at him in surprise, which made Harry regret his decision to come even more. But he couldn't hide from this forever, and with that in mind, he squared his shoulders and stared defiantly at the adults.

"Harry, please come sit," Narcissa said lightly, but Harry could tell there was something off.

The teenager neared the adults, watching Lucius warily for signs of anger. The Malfoy Senior didn't appear angry; his face was merely blank and emotionless. Harry shivered slightly as he sat down, knowing that the lord must just be containing his rage for now, biding his time.

The three adults had already eaten, Harry noticed, as he saw the leftovers on their plates and their lack of movement. Bowing his head slightly, Harry recognized that he wouldn't be eating breakfast, not that he ever entertained that notion in the first place.

"Potter."

Harry's eyes snapped up, watching Snape warily, trying to hide his rising dread. "Sir?"

Black eyes watched him with an unreadable expression for a minute, unrelenting. Finally, Snape motioned to the toast and fruit on the table. "Eat, Potter."

Alarmed, Harry turned to Lucius. He could obey Snape and risk angering Lord Malfoy, or he could deny Snape's order and probably infuriate Lucius anyways. Uncertainly he met Lucius' grey eyes.

"Sir?" Harry whispered shakily.

"Yes Harry?" Lucius asked, his face unreadable as he stared piercingly back at the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Do I have your permission to eat, sir?" Harry continued quietly, bracing himself for some sort of explosion.

Narcissa gasped beside him, and Snape's eyes widened slightly. Harry saw their reactions, and the fury flash across Lucius' face, and began to shake in fear.

"I'm sorry Lord Malfoy," Harry said frantically, shaking his head. "That was ungrateful. I know I don't deserve food and-"

A slender hand touched his arm, and Harry flinched away from Narcissa instinctively. Seeing her upset face, Harry faltered, waiting for some sort of punishment from Lucius.

"We need to talk, Harry," Lucius said softly. The aristocratic man gracefully rose to his feet, his face dangerously empty of emotion.

Harry stood up unsteadily, stiffening with fear as he waited.

"Lucius, dear, at least let him eat first," Narcissa murmured to him.

Snape shook his head at Narcissa. "Mr. Potter won't be able to eat until everything is said, Narcissa. Just look at him," he said quietly, motioning to the shaking black-haired teenager. "Trust me, this must be done."

Harry heard the last words, and inhaled sharply, his eyes unmoving from Lucius as he waited. The blond lord nodded to Snape and his wife, before approaching Harry.

"Come," Lucius said firmly, motioning to the door.

Harry followed after him, his stomach in knots as he fought back the rising hysteria and nausea, all defiance and daring gone. Emerald eyes bore into the Slytherin's back as they walked into a nearby sitting room. Lucius sat in one of the chairs, ordering Harry to do the same. The teenager quickly followed his instructions, tense as he waited for the inevitable.

Albus Dumbledore raged in his office, pacing back and forth and blasting objects as his temper flared.

He had searched everywhere for his pawn, but he was nowhere in the castle, that much was certain. Dumbledore was partially afraid that the boy had been captured by Death Eaters, or perhaps ran off on his own.

When Dumbledore had searched out his potions professor and spy, Severus Snape, he had expected the man to help him gather information, but the Potions Professor had been missing. Dumbledore had been forced to interrogate the Slytherins without their Head of House, which had been overly difficult. The Snakes really were quite clever and excessively suspicious. And to his frustration, most of them either had nothing of value or had strong enough occlumency shields to hold him off.

Dumbledore had no idea how all of the Slytherin fourth years were proficient in occlumency, but it definitely enraged him.

Sending a highly dark curse at one of his vases, he watched it explode with narrowed eyes. Something needed to be done, he recognized, and fast.

Emerald eyes met grey as the silence echoed in the room. Harry felt like he was going to throw up if he had to wait any longer, but he tried his very best to stay composed. He was well practiced when it came to these situations, but no level of training could completely stop his human instincts. He was terrified, but not surprised. If anything, he would be surprised this hadn't happened the moment they saw each other.

"Harry," Lucius said softly, leaning in. His face was very solemn as he surveyed the teenager.

Harry didn't acknowledge his name, but simply sat in silence, staring blankly back at the blonde aristocrat. The man using Harry so carelessly felt like a slap in the face to the teenager, especially seeing since he was about to be punished, but Harry fought back the rising emotions.

"Harry, we need to talk about last night. You do realize that, correct?"

Emerald eyes flickered from the Lucius' face to the floor quickly, avoiding staring the lord in the face.

"Yes sir," Harry whispered, bowing his head.

"Good." Lucius narrowed his eyes as he observed the young man before him. "Harry, first and foremost I want to talk to you about what exactly occurred last night. Severus informed us on what transpired in your dream-"

Harry's head snapped up, and he stared at the man in horror. "What?" he gasped, his eyes dark. Seeing Malfoy Senior's startled expression, he froze. "I'm sorry, Lord Malfoy," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to speak out of turn." When Lucius didn't answer, Harry continued shakily, taking a deep breath. "I-I apologize about last night and promise it will never happen again." Harry missed the troubled facial expression on the other man's face. "I understand that I must be punished for my weakness, and I will face the consequences of my actions." Harry stopped, staring at Lucius, praying that would suffice.

Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand, was trying to school his expression. Showing the intense anger he was feeling right now would only terrify the boy more, and he knew it. But hearing someone his own son's age say such things was… something he couldn't even put into words.

Lucius kneeled in front of the shaking teenager, and grabbed his wrists firmly. Harry flinched at his hold, but made no move to escape the grasp. Lucius stared him directly into the eyes.

"There are some new rules now, Harry," Lucius said quietly, trying to ignore the way Harry stiffened at those words. "And I expect you to follow them."

"Yes sir," Harry whispered.

"First, you must never refer to yourself as a freak or any other derogatory term."

Harry pulled slightly away from him in surprise, but the blond lord's grip remained strong.

"But sir-"

"Second," Lucius continued, ignoring the protest, "you will never do anything to purposefully injure or harm yourself."

Harry gasped at what Lord Malfoy was saying, astonished and confused. Why was he giving him these rules, as if he deserved to be treated in such a way? And why wasn't he being punished? Was this some test? Was he testing to see if Harry was faithful to what he knew to be true? Harry knew very clearly what would happen if he obeyed. Closing his eyes with revulsion, he couldn't stop the flashback.

Vernon Dursley grinned down at the eight-year-old child. Harry stared in confusion at his uncle, uncertain at why the man was grinning at him. He seemed a little weird, but other than that he looked, dare he say it, pleased.

" Boy," Vernon started, with none of his normal malice. "Your grades came in today."

Harry tensed, waiting for some sort of anger. Surely the man was angry about him scoring better than Dudley? Or maybe that was why he was happy, because Harry had failed everything? It was all on purpose of course, so Dudley would appear smarter and that way Harry wouldn't be beaten to a bloody pulp again. The small child waited, trembling.

" You did so well, I'm so proud of you," Vernon said, grasping his shoulder.

Harry flinched under his touch, but to his amazement, the touch was gentle. Harry stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. His uncle was proud of him?

" In fact, I thought you deserved a little reward," Vernon continued lightly.

Harry gawked at his uncle, speechless.

" I've been wrong about you all these years, boy. You're not a freak. If you tell me you know you're not a freak, and that you still love me, you can have some ice cream." Vernon grinned down at the child. "What do you say?"

Harry nodded shakily, inwardly wondering if this was all just a dream. Well if it was, he was going to enjoy it while it lasts. "I-I am not a-a freak," Harry whispered. "And I l-love you, Uncle."

Harry expected to see delight at those words, but his uncle's face quickly morphed into deep loathing and cruel amusement. The large man laughed nastily. "Stupid whelp," he said harshly. "To think I would ever love a freak like you!"

Harry stepped back as if he was slapped, gasping.

" This was just a test boy, to see if you knew your place." The beefy man grabbed Harry's arm tightly, making him wince. "And you failed, boy, miserably," Vernon hissed in his ear. "Now it's time for your reward, freak."

"Harry!"

Harry? That wasn't right. The Gryffindor stared into steel grey eyes instead of the beady, black ones he had been expecting and realized what had occurred. He hoped that Lucius hadn't noticed.

"Harry, what just happened?" the blonde asked seriously.

Harry flinched, and tried to move away, but realized Lucius was still holding on to his wrists. The Headmaster hated it when he succumbed to flashbacks. Professor Dumbledore always said it was a sign of complete weakness. But there was one thing that always made up for that, and Harry hoped that the same would be true for Lucius Malfoy.

Harry quickly pulled away from the aristocrat's hold, and stepped away from the man. Not even shaking, Harry pulled out his wand. Lucius stared at him in shock, and pulled out his own wand, as if he was preparing for an attack. The black-haired wizard, however, didn't direct his wand at the Slytherin, but instead at his own arm.

" Desecamus," Harry said clearly, in deep concentration.

Lucius watched in horror as the red curse sliced into Harry's arm, and gasped at all the blood from the new gash.

Harry faced the lord, smiling darkly. "I guess you'll have to punish me now, huh? I broke your rule." At Lucius' astonished face he laughed coldly. "What, do you think I'm a bloody idiot? I knew you were going to punish me either way, at least I saved myself some humiliation this time."

Lucius snapped out of his stupor and approached him quickly. He grabbed Harry's arm gently, ignoring the blood on his hands from the action and Harry's confused expression. The man breathed in sharply as he examined the incision, and quickly pulled out his wand.

"What, did I spoil your fun, sir? Checking to make sure I did it properly?" Harry said these words boldly, but he really was focusing on blocking out the pain and not shaking at the man's close proximity.

Lucius pulled out his wand, and Harry tensed under his hold. " Medicamus," Lucius whispered, waving his wand in a circular motion.

Harry's eyes widened at this act, astounded. He watched as his deep slice healed itself under the protection of the blue light, and all that remained was the previous blood. With another flick of Lucius' wand, that also vanished. The blood on Lord Malfoy, however, remained, which Harry found himself very worried about. Ruining the expensive, silk shirt would only get him into more trouble, he realized.

"Lord Malfoy?" Harry gasped, the emerald eyes showing his intense inner conflict.

The man met his gaze, furious. "What the hell were you thinking?" he hissed. "I just told you specifically that you are not to harm yourself. I don't know how you could possibly think I wanted you to do the opposite."

He's lying. He's lying. He's lying. But not matter how many times Harry chanted that in his head, he couldn't ignore the sincere distress and fury that was on the man's face. And for what? For him? But wasn't the man going to punish him?

Lucius grasped him by the shoulders, ignoring the flinch. "I. Will. Never. Purposefully. Cause. Physical. Harm. To. You. Ever."

Harry cried out, trying to pull away. "Please, don't-"

"That's a promise Harry." Lucius said seriously, his eyes grave. "That's the third rule. I will never harm you. Ever."

Harry stared into the grey eyes, his face void of any feelings as he shut down the urge to believe the man. He was lying, adults always lie. "I don't believe you," Harry said, before he realized it.

His first impulse was to apologize, but he ignored his self-perseveration for once and acted like the Gryffindor he was. And staring into the shocked silver gaze of the man in front of him, he knew he didn't regret saying it. If he was going to be punished, that was fine, as long as he was no longer the weak, naive child who held on to every empty promise.

"I'll prove it to you, Harry," Lord Malfoy told him softly. "You will never have anything to fear from me."

"And what about your master?" Harry hissed, breathing irregularly. "When he returns, I'm sure I'll be delivered to him on a fancy, silver platter!"

"You will not be harmed, Harry, I swear it," Lucius told him, avoiding the question slightly, but trying to be comforting as well.

"Well, swear it then, if you're so certain," Harry said, his eyes narrowed. "If you really aren't going to harm me, make an unbreakable vow. Swear on your magic."

Harry expected multiple reactions for the aristocrat at his demand; maybe for the man to lose his patience and shoot a curse at him, or perhaps even just laugh in his face or blatantly refuse. What the Boy-Who-Lived was not expecting to happen, however, did in fact occur.

"I, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, do swear on my magic to never purposefully cause any harm to Harry James Potter. I will defend him against the Dark Lord if necessary, and protect him to the best of my ability. So mote it be."

A white light slowly exited from the tip of his wand and surrounded the tall, intimidating man. Harry stared at Lucius in open shock as it faded away.

"You were telling the truth," Harry gasped, overcome and astounded at what Lucius Malfoy, the Dark Lord's right-hand man, had just done.

"I was," Lucius said evenly, nodding.

"Why?" Harry gasped, collapsing back in a chair. "Why?" He dropped his head in his hands, fighting back tears.

Lucius placed his own hand hesitantly over one of Harry's. The teenager raised his head, meeting the blonde's gaze.

"Because you deserve it, Harry."

At this, Harry couldn't hold back the tears, and he only shook his head, trying to hide his face from the lord. The man Harry had earlier seen as heartless and apathetic slowly put his arms around the distressed boy, and held him silently as he cried. Part of the young, black-haired wizard knew he should pull away or protest, but the years of pressure and pain had taken its toll. For just one moment, Harry wanted to believe Malfoy Senior's words, and for this reason he cried, knowing that no matter what, those words would always be a lie.

He didn't deserve anything and even if Lucius really meant him no harm, he knew he had to escape. Albus Dumbledore was the only man who could help him. The guilt was eating away at Harry, and he knew the only way for it to end was to die for the Light Side's cause. Then, just maybe, his parents would love him again.

At that very moment, in a dark cavern, two men sat at a table in the corner of the room. They sat silently, eyeing each other distrustfully.

"I wasn't expecting you to contact me, Severus," one of the tall, dark-haired men finally drawled, smirking. "I thought you were busy kissing up to Dumbledore."

"I know you're in contact with our master, Barty," Severus said curtly, ignoring the jab. "I need to see him. It's urgent."

"And why should I trust you, Snape?" Barty sneered, his eyes narrowed. "How do I know that years with the old crackhead haven't changed you? Dumbledore's support for you is so unwavering, it's almost… unbelievable."

"I am good at what I do, Crouch," Snape hissed, glaring at the other Death Eater, "and I do not trust someone like you to understand. You wouldn't know subtlety even if it hit you on your overgrown head-"

Barty laughed dryly, shaking his head. "Very well, Snape. Tell me what is so important and I'll think about it."

Snape leaned in, glancing around the dark bar warily. "It's about Harry Potter."

"Potter?" Crouch spat, profound loathing morphing his features. "What about that son of a-"

"Let's just say it could change the entire course of the war," Snape intervened coolly. "I know the Dark Lord is rising in power, and he plans on killing Potter once and for all. Well, this might change his mind."

"You're defending Potter? The brat who made Master lose the first war?" Barty grabbed his wand from underneath his robes, fuming. "You really are a traitor, Sn-"

"Barty, don't insult your own intelligence," Snape interrupted angrily. "You of all people should know I would never betray the Dark Lord."

"But the red-headed mudblood-"

Snape only sniffed in disgust. "As you well know, the ruse that I loved Lily Potter is about as accurate as the idea of you loving your own father. And what other reason would I have for following Dumbledore? If you can think of something, do enlighten me."

"Death Eaters are rotting in Azkaban while you are living a comfortable life," Barty growled. "I think that's enough reason. Bellatrix-"

"Don't," Snape stated coldly, pulling out his wand and directing it at the other man. "Don't bring Bellatrix into this-"

"And why not, Snape? Maybe you would prefer I talked about Caroline-"

At this, Snape got to his feet, unable to contain his fury any longer. "Forgive me for even thinking that you'd be able to help me, Crouch, because clearly you can't." He turned with a flourish, his robes billowing behind him.

"Snape."

The Slytherin Head of House paused for a moment, his back to Barty as he waited.

"I can take you to him. The Dark Lord, that is."

Snape turned to face Barty Crouch slowly, his face shadowed in the dark of the cavern. "Why the change of heart, Crouch?"

"Because you passed my test, Severus," he retorted nonchalantly. "Congrats, it's your lucky day. Now let's get out of here, this place smells like Pettigrew." He got to his feet, twirling his wand in the hand, and eyeing Snape carefully. "I'm doing this because I used to trust you Severus. Don't make me regret this."

Severus nodded slightly at his fellow Death Eater and old friend as he followed him out of the building. Hidden in a dark alley, Barty grabbed his arm firmly, and an instant later, they were gone.

Little note- Desecamus was an OC spell, it means sever. I found the cutting curse Diffindo, but it was only ever used on objects, so I thought I'd play it safe and create my own. My healing spell was also OC, it means heal. Pretty simple:)

So the Dark Lord features in the next chappie! Wahoo! :) And, for those of you who are curious, this is not the last we will hear of the mysterious Caroline and what Bellatrix has to do with anything. Snape has quite the past, I assure you! :) (Not to mention he is super fun to write!) And the other Slytherins will probably come a little more into play as well next chapter!

Alas, it is time to take my leave! Till next time! :) Please review! And happy reading:)

Chapter 6

*ducks under rotten tomatoes* So sorry! My AN is at the bottom! Hope you haven't forgotten about this story :)

Previously…

"I can take you to him. The Dark Lord, that is."

Snape turned to face Barty Crouch slowly, his face shadowed in the dark of the cavern. "Why the change of heart, Crouch?"

"Because you passed my test, Severus," he retorted nonchalantly. "Congrats, it's your lucky day. Now let's get out of here, this place smells like Pettigrew." He got to his feet, twirling his wand in the hand, and eyeing Snape carefully. "I'm doing this because I used to trust you Severus. Don't make me regret this."

Severus nodded slightly at his fellow Death Eater and old friend as he followed him out of the building. Hidden in a dark alley, Barty grabbed his arm firmly, and an instant later, they were gone.

They landed in a graveyard, and Severus Snape observed his surroundings with narrowed eyes. The handsome, dark-haired man beside him smirked.

"Thought you'd feel right at home here, Sev," the man sneered.

Snape ignored his comment, instead fingering his wand as he stared at the towering manor. "Where are we, Crouch?" he asked coolly.

"Riddle Manor," Barty Crouch Jr. answered with a twisted smile.

"And the Dark Lord?"

"Inside, with Pettigrew."

Snape stopped walking, facing Barty with a look of disgust. "Pettigrew is here?"

Barty's face reflected the Potion Master's own expression. "`Fraid so," Barty answered.

Snape sneered and turned back to face the manor. He continued on with vicious strides as if they were never interrupted. Barty hurried after him, barely avoiding colliding with his back as they made it to a side door. Snape raised an eyebrow at Barty, who rolled his eyes.

"Follow me," Barty hissed as he opened the door.

They walked in silence through the darkly lit hallways, the shadows hiding the once-beautiful interior. They walked up a winding staircase, with Barty a few steps ahead of the Potions Professor. Snape remained expressionless, but he was inwardly fighting a rare bout of nervousness. Barty stopped at the first level, stepping to the first door, and Snape watched him carefully. Glancing at the emotionless Snape, Barty knocked on the door.

"Enter," a voice hissed, sending shivers down Snape's spine.

Barty grinned at his companion, opening the door wide.

"After you, Severus," he said.

Snape hastily reinforced his occlumency shields before he moved into the room. His eyes flickered around the poorly lit room, searching for the Dark Lord. What he saw shocked him.

He had known the Dark Lord was not at his full strength, but to see him so deformed and weak was astonishing. The small bundle on the chair was obviously the Dark Lord from the way Nagini hovered protectively. Snape could not make out much of his features due to a black cloak wrapped around him. The Dark Lord raised his head, but it was hidden by his hood. Pettigrew cowered in the background, watching them closely.

"Severus," the figure whispered menacingly. "I must admit I am surprised to see you…. Alive."

Snape slowly lowered himself onto his knees, his eyes unwavering from his weakened master.

"Barty is most gracious as always, my lord," Snape murmured.

The Dark Lord turned to observe the other kneeling man. "And why is that Barty?" he asked, fingering his wand.

"I was planning to kill him Master, if he was truly a traitor," Barty answered with clear devotion, his gaze unmoving from his master.

"And he is alive." The Dark Lord titled his head to examine Severus. "I thought you were Dumbledore's little pet."

"Only on your orders, my lord," Severus said quietly.

The Dark Lord did not answer, and Pettigrew flashed him scared looks as Nagini slithered around the chair.

"Why have you returned, Severus?" the Dark Lord finally spoke, breaking the silence.

"My lord-" Snape broke off, steeling himself. "My lord, I have reason to believe Harry Potter should be left alone."

Even in his weakened state, the occupants in the room could feel the Dark Lord's powerful magic choking them. Amber eyes narrowed from behind the hood.

"And why would that be, Severus?" he hissed. "Why would I ever spare Harry Potter?"

Snape did the only thing he could to convince him. He dropped his occlumency shields and met the most powerful Dark Lord that ever lived directly in the eyes.

"My memories are yours, my lord," Snape whispered.

The effect was instantaneous. The memories flew by. The injuries littering Potter's body when Draco and the other Slytherins levitated him in…. The memory of Potter torturing itself on Dumbledore's orders… Potter's horrifying nightmare…. The scene at breakfast with Potter's submissive behavior….

The Dark Lord pulled out viciously, and Snape grabbed his head in pain. Amber eyes stared at the Potions Master with shock.

"My lord, he has been abused and manipulated," Snape said quickly, trying to persuade his lord. "We already have begun turning him-"

"I will leave him alone, Severus," the Dark Lord interrupted softly.

Both Barty and Snape looked at him in surprise.

"Thank you, my l-"

"On one condition, Severus," the Dark Lord interrupted again.

Snape waited warily, knowing there had to be a catch. There always is with the Dark Lord.

"Bring him to me."

Severus eyes widened in surprise but he bowed his head, not even bothering to argue. "As you wish, my lord."

"I will inform you when I wish to see the boy." The Dark Lord paused briefly. "My plans must be altered now that Potter is in your care." He turned to Barty. "Your position in Hogwarts is now unnecessary. But posing as Alastor Moody still proves to be useful. Remain in your position for now."

"Of course, Master," Barty murmured.

Snape stared at Barty with narrowed eyes. "You are posing as Moody?" he questioned incredulously.

Barty grinned. "Constant vigilance."

Snape smirked slightly. "I should have realized."

"Severus?"

Snape turned to face his lord, expectant.

"I will call you again soon," the Dark Lord informed him. "We have much to speak about."

Severus nodded. "I am always in your service, my lord."

Amber eyes regarded him momentarily. "Return to young Mr. Potter, Severus."

Severus got to his feet and bowed low, before quickly striding out of the room. Once he was out of the manor he exhaled in relief, knowing he could have been killed if his lord had not believed him. His eyes were still fixed on the old Riddle Manor as he disapparited.

A week had passed by with Harry in the Malfoy's care. Snape stopped by occasionally, usually for dinner, and Harry found his presence both reassuring and upsetting. To Harry's pleasant surprise, his Potions Professor rarely insulted him anymore. Despite this, Harry wouldn't dare look him in the eyes, still recalling how he could enter his memories like the Headmaster. Draco had informed him that that was called legilimency, and he needed to learn occlumency to prevent such acts.

That was another surprise to the young Gryffindor. His rival was also toning it down, and Harry almost thought they could be becoming friends. He still found the blonde insufferable and pompous, but at least he was honest and actually rather witty. They were even on first name terms, although more often than not they would resort to rude nicknames and surnames.

Draco has been updating them all on the happenings at Hogwarts, as was Snape. The official story was that Harry was taking leave due to the unexpected death of a relative. Snape had explained earlier that Dumbledore did not want the general public to know of Harry's disappearance. Dumbledore, however, was in a rage to find his missing martyr.

Harry had asked the Malfoys if he should send a letter to the Headmaster or something, and they immediately shot that down. In their eyes, the less Albus Dumbledore knew the better. Harry was still having trouble accepting that Dumbledore truly didn't care about his well-being, but he accepted that the man was not as much as a saint as he had previously believed. While he didn't see why their training was so wrong, he was beginning to understand how manipulative the man was.

Harry shifted on his comfortable king-sized bed and reached for the occlumency book on his nightstand. He had been staring at the ceiling for a few hours, thinking everything over, but his train of thought was starting to become wearing. Instead he delved into the pages of one of the many occlumency books that he had borrowed from the Malfoy library. The idea of being able to block his mind was wonderful, and he had spent hours pouring into the texts on the subject. The problem was, however, that his attempts to build up his mental defenses were futile unless a master of the arts were to train him. Draco had told him that his father practiced occlumency but was not a master in legilimency. Snape, on the other hand, was quite skilled in the art.

Harry knew that he should ask the Slytherin Head of House to assist him in learning occlumency, but the thought of the professor being in his mind was terrifying. It was hard enough that he had already seen some of his most private thoughts, more would be impossible to bear. Yet… Harry did not want to ever be defenseless again, and the man had already seen all of his deepest secrets.

He would ask the professor tonight at dinner, he decided. With that determined he leaned back on the bed and continued to research the mental arts.

Dinner came faster than he anticipated, and the Gryffindor would admit he was not thrilled to ask Snape of all people for help. Draco was sitting next to him, with Narcissa and Snape opposite them. Draco separated Harry from Lucius, who sat at the head of the table as expected. Harry was still unsure how he felt about Lucius. The man did take a vow insuring that he would cause no harm to him, but Harry was still having trouble training himself to not expect punishment for every little thing. Narcissa, however, was much easier to open up to. While in public she hid behind a cold, polite mask, she was a very compassionate and warm individual.

"So, Potter, how'd you waste away your life today?" Draco asked him, smirking.

Harry's gaze shifted to Snape for a split second, before he faced his peer. "Well, believe it or not, I was reading."

"Oh? The golden boy is turning into a Ravenclaw," Draco sneered, looking amused.

"Well what did you do today, pretty boy?" Harry retorted quickly, smirking back at him. "Stare at a mirror for a few hours, style your hair, then repeat?"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," Draco said, running a hand through his hair lightly. "After all, it's obvious you didn't look in a mirror today."

"My beauty comes naturally, as does my quidditch skills. You would know better than anyone else, right Malfoy?" Harry retorted, grinning.

"It's not fair that you have the Potter genes," Draco told him haughtily. "It is merely an unfair advantage. And even you have to beat me in something Potter, although it is the only thing."

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry reminded him.

"Potions," he retorted.

Harry's face contorted. "Yeah, I'll give you that one Drake."

Draco spluttered indignantly at that. "Drake?" he repeated in a low, deadly tone.

Laughter erupted from around the table at Draco's expression, and Harry glanced up, startled. He had forgotten in his banter with Draco that the adults were there as well. Harry froze, but was shocked to see they were all smiling and looked, dare he say it, amused .

"I had no idea the two of you were so amusing," Lucius said, smirking, as he sipped some of his champagne.

"Yes, please do not stop on our account," Snape added in, also smirking.

Harry relaxed slightly but remained silent while Draco grumbled to himself, glaring slightly at his rival. The Gryffindor ate quietly, listening to the interaction between Lucius, Severus, and Draco as they conversed over different potion experiments. Narcissa, however, was watching Harry.

"What are you thinking about Harry?" the blond witch asked him softly.

He stared at her in surprise, and the other conversation ended abruptly. They all turned to stare at him and Harry attempted to stay emotionless and calm.

"I want to take occlumency lessons," he said quietly, forcing himself to stare directly at Snape.

Snape, who had not been oblivious to the teenager's occasional glances his way, did not look surprised. "You realize this is a very demanding and strict art, do you not?"

"I'm prepared, sir," Harry told him boldly.

Snape's lips curved up ever so slightly. "I dare say you are, Potter." He regarded his student for a few more moments before nodding his consent. "Very well Mr. Potter, I shall instruct you."

Harry let out the breath he was unconsciously holding, relieved. "Thank you so much, sir," he said swiftly. "I won't make you regret it."

Snape inclined his head. "We could even start tonight if you are agreeable," he said slowly, his dark eyes unreadable.

Harry looked at him in surprise, but nodded his consent quickly. "Of course sir, thank you sir," he said quickly.

Snape raised his eyebrows. "I'm assuming you have studied literature on the subject?"

"Yes sir," Harry told him softly. "I have read 'Occlumency, the Art', 'Protecting the Mind', and I have started 'The Mental Arts'."

Snape nodded his approval. "Very good, Mr. Potter. That should be a good start."

Harry was shocked by the compliment, and nodded shakily back at the professor.

"Well, if you are done with dinner then we may retire to one of the studies," Snape suggested.

Harry nodded, and got to his feet. The Potions Master followed his movement and led his student out of the room into a nearby lounging area. Snape closed the door behind them, motioning for Harry to take a seat on one of the comfortable looking couches. When Harry did so jerkily, Snape sat across him in a chair.

Harry eyed Snape somewhat anxiously. He hadn't been alone with his professor since after the nightmare incident and the man still scared him a bit. Despite this, he was excited to learn, although he was terrified of the man entering his mind.

"I am sure in your readings you have learned about setting up a mental shield."

Harry nodded in agreement.

"Once you establish your mental shields you must also focus on clearing your mind of anything but your mental defense," Snape instructed him. "Your mental defense must also be powerful and often its strongest when emotionally based. It is different for everyone so you will have to think of the best shield for you personally."

Harry nodded, having already thought through on what his defense might be.

"Now close your eyes," Snape said briskly, "and start forming your defense in your head."

Harry shut his eyes hesitantly and started imagining a huge stone wall. It was simple, but Harry thought it would serve its purpose and offer good protection. Slowly he opened his eyes after having established a good enough mental picture.

"Your shield is ready?" Snape asked him, eyeing the Gryffindor critically. At his nod, Snape continued. "Very well, then I am going to attempt to enter your mind." When Harry stiffened, Snape sighed. "Stay relaxed Mr. Potter and concentrate on focusing on your mental defenses. Don't let your mind waver to the fear of your memories."

Harry nodded uncertainly, trying to remain composed and prepare himself.

Snape raised his wand slowly, whispering " legilimency ."

Snape was pulled into Harry's mind, and was immediately greeted by the stone wall, but it did not deter the accomplished legiliems. He reached the stone wall, eyeing it critically. He scanned it until he noticed a few cracks in its form. Snape reached towards it, pushing, and Harry felt the pressure. The wall opened, and Snape was tugged into the memories.

Harry was running from dementors…. Tom Riddle was mocking Harry… His uncle was whipping him… Dumbledore was holding him under the cruciatus curse…

Snape exited his mind abruptly, horrified. He stared at Harry who was on the floor panting and would not look Snape in the eye. After a few minutes of silence Harry heaved himself back onto the couch, defiantly facing him.

"What was the memory in the chamber?" Snape finally asked, surprising Harry by not instantly lecturing him on Dumbledore. "Was that the Tom Riddle from the diary?"

Harry nodded slowly, confused by his question.

"And the first?" Snape continued. "That was in your third year?"

Harry nodded again, now glaring at Snape, daring him to comment or insult him.

"I heard you battled off the dementors, but I had no idea how many there were," Snape told him seriously. "That is very impressive." He paused, taking in Harry's shocked expression. "But moronic and foolish," he added, it attempts to lessen the compliment.

Harry was taken aback by the compliment, but smiled at the insult at the end. "Thank you, sir," he said.

There was silence for a few more moments before Snape continued his questioning. "And the third memory?" he asked softly.

"I blew up my Aunt on accident the summer before because she was insulting my parents," Harry said quietly. "He was angry."

"That behavior was inexcusable," Snape stated.

"I know. I'm sorry. I should have controlled my magic better. I know I deserved-"

"You misunderstand me," Snape intervened seriously. "I meant that your uncle's behavior was inappropriate, regardless of your actions. You by no means deserved the abuse."

"I wasn't abused," Harry told him quietly, looking away.

Snape regarded him solemnly. "What was it then, Mr. Potter?"

He didn't answer, and Snape sighed.

"You didn't move from your position and you made no sound," Snape continued, changing the subject slightly. "I take it that you were trained on how to take the beating."

Harry nodded hesitantly, his eyes unmoving from his hands on his legs.

"Was it the same with Dumbledore?"

Harry tensed, and his eyes flew up to meet Snape's.

"Did he also whip you? Or did he prefer magical means like in your last memory?"

"He was training me," Harry told him quietly, with a desperate edge to it.

"For what?" Snape asked him coldly. "For torture? For slaughter?" Harry flinched and he continued viciously. "If Dumbledore had really cared he would have taught you powerful magic and trained you to be a strong dueler." He leaned in, his eyes intense. "Mr. Potter, what he did was wrong. He is a perverse, sick, twisted bastard-"

"He was training me," Harry repeated hollowly, wrapping his arms around his torso protectively.

Snape's eyes hardened. "He was going to send you off to the Dark Lord as a teenager when he or other capable adults should instead be dealing with it." Snape gripped Harry's arm tightly, showing a rare case of concern. "He did not deserve your trust Harry. He was wrong to do what he did. Your uncle was wrong to do what he did. I was wrong to treat you in such a manner in the past."

Harry stared at the professor in shock, amazed by the use of his first name and the apology.

"Trust me, Harry, with this," he said quietly. "Even if you do not trust me in anything else, at least accept that you do not and did not deserve to be put through so much pain."

Harry was so confused. First Draco, and then Lucius, and even Snape of all people informed him that the training was wrong. It was all he had ever known, all he had ever lived for, and he couldn't believe it had all been misguided. It was a nightmare to even consider it. Yet… Harry found himself starting to believe it. He had had similar thoughts throughout the last few years when he had gotten less and less naïve. But he had trusted Dumbledore blindly, accepting the pain even if he inwardly knew it was not really for his own welfare.

Snape withdrew his hand, clearing his throat. Harry gazed at his professor, still overwhelmed with all the information.

"We can continue this lesson another time, Mr. Potter," Snape told him quietly, and Harry noticed that he reverted back to his surname. "I've given you much to think about," he added.

Harry nodded aimlessly.

"I must go." Snape stood up, eyeing his student carefully. "Keep on reading your textbooks, Mr. Potter. I'm sure you will find success in our next lesson." He turned and left the room after that, leaving Harry alone to his thoughts.

Harry sat in silence for the next hour, mulling everything over. He replayed the conversation with Snape over and over again in his mind, wondering if the professor could be right. He sat alone, lost in thought, until his scar flared with agonizing pain. Harry gripped his head and fell off the couch onto the floor, screaming.

Nearby, Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy gripped their left arms, shocked.

They all knew one thing for certain: Lord Voldemort had risen again.

AN: My deepest apologies! I was super busy and then I had huge writer's block. Anyways, I hope you are satisfied with this chapter. The next will include a Death Eater's meeting and probably Harry's meeting with the Dark Lord! I hope all the characters were well in character, especially Snape. He uses Harry's name awfully quickly but that is primarily because of the situation. It will be clear next chapter that it'll take a while for Snape to ever use Harry's given name regularly. Anyways, I'll try to update quicker next time! I don't deserve any of your reviews but I would LOVE them anyways! Happy reading :)

Chapter 7

Hey all, sorry for the wait! Summer is on its way, and hopefully with it will come more speedy updates! Haha maybe ;)

Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter! Nor did I own it during any of my earlier chapter.

Warnings: AU, slight violence, mild OOCness

Previously:

Harry sat in silence for the next hour, mulling everything over. He replayed the conversation with Snape over and over again in his mind, wondering if the professor could be right. He sat alone, lost in thought, until his scar flared with agonizing pain. Harry gripped his head and fell off the couch onto the floor, screaming.

Nearby, Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy gripped their left arms, shocked.

They all knew one thing for certain: Lord Voldemort had risen again.

Severus Snape observed Lord Voldemort as he circled around his followers. He looked just as he did before Harry left him in a damaged state. The handsome man was smirking slightly at the varying expressions of fear and anxiety within the group. Those outside his inner circle looked terrified, but his lord had only ever shown them his unmerciful side. Those of his inner circle, including the likes of Severus, Lucius Malfoy, Barty Crouch, Theodore Nott Senior, Evan Rosier, Anthony Flint, Erik Greengrass, and Stephen Parkinson, were looking perfectly calm. The inner circle had always been treated differently by the Dark Lord, but the other Death Eaters were merely pawns.

Lord Voldemort stopped in the center of the open field in front of Riddle Manor, eyeing his followers slyly, and Severus watched him in his impassive manner. Lucius, from beside him, was acting like he was seeing a ghost. Barty was next to Lucius, but unlike the blonde he was shivering in anticipation.

"My devout followers," the Dark Lord said quietly. "It's been thirteen years since we last met… thirteen years. Yet you answer my call as if it was just yesterday…." He trailed off sinisterly, and surveyed the mostly unsettled group. "I wonder… which of you remain loyal?"

He waited, his red eyes gleaming dangerously. When no one answered, he continued even more softly in a snake-like voice.

"Thirteen years ago, our Dark Order was betrayed. And only a few of you remained faithful afterwards. Surely you know of the steps I took, long ago, to reach immortality. And yet… you thought me broken, gone, forever vanished… You are fools ."

A shiver ran from inside the Death Eaters, and a cruel smirk appeared on the Dark Lord's handsome face for a split second at their reaction.

"It is a disappointment… I confess myself disappointed…"

One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, Dolohov collapsed at Voldemort's feet.

"Master," he shrieked. "Master, forgive me! Forgive us!"

Lord Voldemort laughed and raised his wand fluidly.

"Crucio!"

The Death Eater on the ground writhed and screamed, and the other followers watched with frozen fear. Finally, the Dark Lord lifted the curse, and Snape coolly stared at Dolohov as he lay still on the ground.

"Get up, Dolohov," said his lord softly. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years… I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. A few of my must trusted have remained loyal, and it is them only that have no need to seek such things."

The Dark Lord turned to Barty, who was hidden behind his hood. He approached him and Barty met his gaze evenly.

"All of my faithful subjects will be rewarded," the Dark Lord murmured to him.

Barty murmured his thanks while the Dark Lord turned to face Lucius.

"Lucius, my slippery friend," he whispered. "I know you have not renounced your old ways. Yet… you never tried to find me, Lucius." His voice lowered even more, so Severus could barely hear. "You were my must trusted. To me, this is a greater betrayal than the others."

"My lord-" Lucius started, but stopped. He stared into his lord's amber eyes, and fell to his knees in a rare show of subservience. "I deserve all your anger, Master."

The Dark Lord sighed softly, and Severus knew he was unhappy with the blonde's submissiveness. The Malfoys and the Lestranges were as close as you could get to their lord, and they often referred to him as Tom and acted more as friends. Caroline had been a Malfoy after all. Severus knew that this slave outlook from Lucius spoke depths of how remorseful the man was. The Dark Lord turned away from him, and Severus met the red eyes.

"Severus… I expect my spy has not slacked in his duties."

"Never, my lord," Severus answered smoothly.

His lord nodded, and Severus was grateful that he was not furious at him. When he moved on to the gap between him and the next Death Eater, the feeling instantly ended to be replaced with heart wrenching regret.

"The Lestranges should stand here," said Lord Voldemort quietly. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than forsake me… When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams."

Severus felt a stab of fear mingled with relief at his lord's intentions.

"The dementors will join us… they are our natural allies… We will recall the banished giants and our other magical allies… We will build an army unlike the Wizarding World has ever seen and reform society to its greatness!"

The Death Eaters cheered at those words, and Lord Voldemort smiled coldly in satisfaction. The meeting preceded with much more pleading and begging, as well as more detail on the plans their lord had. It was only when Harry Potter was mentioned that the Dark Lord paused.

"Yes… Harry Potter…" The Dark Lord smirked. "Albus Dumbledore has made many grave errors, that boy being one of them." Silence echoed as many took in his words in confusion. "Mr. Potter shall be left alone," he announced, to Severus' and Lucius' profound relief. "Until he chooses a side he shall remain untouched."

When the Dark Lord called the meeting to an end, he was unaware of the mental connection to this said teenager. Miles away, in Malfoy Manor, Harry Potter was caught in a vision of the entire meeting. And he woke up with a shuttering gasp, the Dark Lord's shocking words still ringing in his mind.

He was to be left alone… Until he chose a side, he was free from this war that had torn his world apart.

Harry was quiet, as always, during breakfast. Severus was not present, but Lucius and Narcissa were sharing many meaningful looks. Draco, ever the Slytherin, was not oblivious to their odd behavior. Yet he had enough tact to stay silent about their actions. Harry, however, knew that if he had not had the vision the night before that he would be caught between silently panicking and demanding information. Of course, the panicking side would win out in the end, but he didn't want to admit that to himself.

He still couldn't believe how Lucius had acted last night, and he could tell there was something more to the encounter. The way Lord Voldemort had spoken to him suggested they were more than servant and master. Voldemort had surprised him as well. He was a lot more…. sane than Harry was expecting. Despite the short torture moment with Dolohov, he was a lot more merciful than Dumbledore said. In fact, everything Dumbledore had said about him seemed off.

Finally, after what seemed like a painfully slow meal, Lucius and Narcissa rose, forcing Harry out of his own thoughts.

"We need to discuss an important matter," Narcissa told them seriously. "I suggest we retire to a sitting room."

Harry followed the Malfoy family into the sitting room he had had the occlumency lesson in the day before. Draco sat down with his eyes narrowed, watching his parents carefully. Harry suspected by the way the young Slytherin's eyes flickered to his father's left arm that he already guessed what happened.

Narcissa also turned to stare expectantly at her husband, waiting for him to speak. Malfoy Senior focused on Harry as he began.

"Harry, I know this is going to be shocking for you. But my vow stills stands, and you have no need to be a part of this war."

Draco's eyes widened slightly, his suspicions confirmed. He was a little confused by what his father was saying concerning the "vow", but he guessed it was a promise to protect Harry from the Dark Lord.

"I know," Harry said quietly, his emerald eyes unwavering from the two adults. "I heard him say it himself last night."

Lucius froze, clearly confused.

Harry touched his scar absentmindedly. "I had a vision of the meeting. I saw it through his eyes. We have a connection."

The three Malfoys stared at him in open astonishment.

"You saw the entire meeting?" Lucius asked in disbelief.

Harry nodded, amused by their reactions. "I'm sure we will hear about a break-in to Azkaban in a few weeks. And Dolohov is going to be sore for a few days."

Lord Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "Has this ever happened before?" he asked.

The dark-haired teenager nodded. "Yes, once or twice this year. One of them he was in an old manor talking to that traitor Wormtail ."

Lucius and Narcissa glanced at each other, astounded. Lucius turned back to face him, his eyes on the lightning-bolt scar.

"You said you have a connection? Through your scar?"

Harry rubbed it a bit anxiously. "Dumbledore says that the night Vold- he tried to kill me, he unknowingly forged a connection between us. That's why I can talk to snakes, and that's why I can sometimes feel his emotions."

"You can feel the Dark Lord's emotions?" Narcissa asked curiously.

The Gryffindor shook his head in the affirmative. "Last night he was mostly pleased to be back, but angry at many of his followers…" Harry trailed off, suddenly quiet. "He was sad and disappointed when he faced you, sir."

Lucius gave a sad smile. "We were friends," he said quietly. "At least in private. I was lost in grief when he died. But I made no attempts to find him… near the end, he changed. And part of me feared him. The other part believed he really was gone. I still continued to delve into politics as he requested, but I did not look for him. " A look of shame flitted over his features for an instant.

Harry was shocked be what Lucius admitted, and even more surprised that the man how actually volunteered such information to him. Draco, from beside him, was less startled by the news. Lucius must have mentioned him to Draco before.

"So the Dark Lord is back?" Draco asked, smirking. "I'm assuming that's what you've been speaking about."

Lucius smirked back at that, and Narcissa smiled at her son.

"Yes," Narcissa told him.

"Why is the Dark Lord leaving me alone?" Harry questioned, asking the question that was so dominant in his mind.

"Because Severus explained everything to him," Lucius said quietly.

Harry tensed. "And he agreed, just like that? The man who killed my parents, tried to kill me a few times, and has murdered hundreds?"

Lucius leaned in to stare at Harry piercingly, very serious. "The Dark Lord only killed when he faced no other option. It was war, and there were casualties, but he was not a raving murderer. He did kill your parents, but I explained to you that it was a dark time for him. His wife and son had been brutally murdered by the light side-"

"Dumbledore never mentioned he had a family," Harry told him skeptically, thinking about his parents' death. "I've never heard that before. How could I not have? And who would even marry him? Some sick, deranged follower?"

All three Malfoys darkened considerably, and Harry stiffened.

"My aunt, Potter," Draco snapped at him, glaring. " She married him. And they loved each other. And your parents helped Dumbledore capture them. They watched Dumbledore torture her for information and kill them. Don't you dare say anything about her ever again."

Lucius and Narcissa looked startled at their son's attitude, especially since he had no memories of her. Harry looked from Draco to the adults, feeling horrible.

"She was your sister?" Harry asked, looking at Lucius.

Lucius nodded, both angry and miserable.

Everything seemed to make sense now. He knew now why Lucius had a bond with the Dark Lord that no one else had.

"She changed him," Harry stated. He felt horrified as the situation formed in his mind. "The memory of Tom Riddle, that was before he knew her. And once he loved her, he lost it when she was killed. That's why he hunted my parents down."

"Yes," Lucius whispered.

"If he changed, why did the Headmaster still fight against him? Why did Professor Dumbledore still try to kill him?"

"The Dark Lord was trying to reform the Wizarding World," Narcissa explained softly. "Dumbledore was threatened by him. He used the Dark Lord's past against him, and morphed him into something he was not. The Order was certain that the Dark Lord was a murdering lunatic. Your parents probably did not know the truth."

Harry felt a sudden thrill of fury. He got to his feet, shaking with rage. "You are lying! How could they not have known? They would have never helped anyone torture and murder someone. You are lying to me, trying to pull me away from the Headmaster!"

Harry stopped abruptly, breathing deeply, his hands clenched by his sides. The Malfoys were all staring at him. Narcissa watched him with sympathy and sadness, and Draco stared at him in disgust. But it was Lucius that really made Harry pause.

"Come," he ordered coldly.

Harry followed the order obediently, shaking as he exited the room after Lucius. He forced himself to remain blank and composed as they went into his office, but he knew what was coming.

He said he wouldn't hurt me, he said he wouldn't hurt me, he chanted to himself.

They were alone in the private office, and Harry stood with his head bowed. After a few minutes of silence, the Gryffindor raised his head just enough to see Lord Malfoy's face. His grey eyes were cold.

"The Dark Lord promised to leave you alone," Lucius said quietly, dangerously. "Why would he do that if he was really all that Dumbledore had said?"

"He wants to turn me, to put me in a false sense of security," Harry whispered.

The man turned and Harry half-expected him to come back with a whip. Instead, he held a small goblet-like object in his hands. Harry recognized what it was instantly, and was confused why he had it. Dumbledore had one in his office, although Harry had never used it before.

"Do you know what this is?"

"A pensieve, sir," Harry replied.

"So you know what it does then?"

Harry nodded, uncertain.

Lucius placed it on his desk gently, before turning to face the black-haired wizard. "I want to show you a few of my memories. It will prove to you that what we were saying was the truth."

"How do I know they weren't tampered with?" Harry asked, with narrowed eyes.

"I, Lucius Malfoy, do swear on my magic that these memories are not altered or tampered."

A flash of white occurred at this announcement, and Harry relaxed slightly. He walked over to the pensieve, unable to deny his curiosity. Lucius stepped beside him, and placed a wand to his temple. Slowly, a strand of grey came out of the point of his wand, and he pushed it into the pensieve. Harry watched this with growing interest. Lucius touched the surface lightly, and he instantly was pulled into the object. Harry took a deep breath before following after him.

They fell into a ballroom, surrounded by people dressed in expensive, formal clothes. Harry glanced around in confusion.

"A ball?"

"It was the first time they met," Lucius said quietly from beside him. "I had just graduated."

Nearby, a younger Lucius Malfoy, dressed in fine black and silver dress robes, was standing next to a beautiful woman. She was obviously older than him, perhaps twenty-five compared to Lucius' eighteen, but she was clearly a Malfoy. Her silky blonde hair was up elegantly into an extravagant bun, and she was dressed in a stunning green dress.

"That's my sister, Caroline," Lucius murmured to Harry as they neared them.

The man that walked towards them couldn't have been anyone but Tom Riddle. He was a commanding presence, and everyone nearby treated him with deep respect. When he greeted Lucius, Harry noticed that his eyes remained on Caroline.

"My lord, this is my sister, Caroline," Lucius greeted, clearly noticing the same thing.

Caroline smiled pleasantly and curtsied lightly, almost mockingly. Tom raised an eyebrow at her antics, and smiled back. He took her offered hand and pressed it lightly to his lips.

"Enchanted to meet you, Miss Malfoy," he murmured.

"Same to you, my lord," she said softly.

The memory changed abruptly, and Harry found himself in a bedroom. The same woman was lying on the bed, heaving with exertion. Her huge belly was prominent and Harry knew instantly the woman was going through labor. Tom Riddle kneeled next to the bed, clutching her hand. It did not escape Harry's notice that the hand had a wedding ring on it. Lucius was beside Tom, looking anxious.

"Where's the healer?" Tom asked him coldly.

Before Lucius could answer, a woman dressed in St. Mungos healing robes burst through the door.

Harry was worried he would have to watch the entire production, but the memory shifted. Caroline, looking tired but content, was holding a small child in her arms. Tom was beside her, staring at the child with a wondrous look on his face. Harry watched in astonishment as the man continued to kiss his wife, whispering endearments to both her and the baby. After a few minutes of this, Lucius finally spoke up from the side.

"Can I at least hold my godson?"

Caroline laughed quietly, and offered the small bundle to her brother. The man held the baby boy gently, taking in his features. Harry found himself doing the same, and was shocked to see a pair of emerald green eyes blinking back at him.

"Hadrian Marvolo Riddle," Lucius murmured. "A young prince."

The memory swirled, and Harry landed in a campground. Lucius entered a tent, and approached the Dark Lord. He was alone, silently doing paperwork.

"Tom?"

Tom looked up and smiled at him slightly. "Lucius," he greeted. "How are the two terrors?" he asked, smirking.

"Positively terrifying, as usual," Lucius joked back, leaning against a bookcase next to the Dark Lord.

Harry glanced at Lucius curiously for explanation.

"Draco and Hadrian," he murmured.

Harry nodded, slightly amused as he turned back to watch the memory unfold.

There was silence for a moment while Tom finished his paperwork. After one final flourish of his quill, he turned to face the blonde directly.

"Any news?"

"Dumbledore is gathering more followers against you," Lucius drawled, sneering. "Lily and James Potter have just joined."

Tom's eyebrows rose. "The Potters? What a pity."

Lucius nodded in agreement, and continued on with more reports. None of them seemed to be malicious. Most of them, actually, revolved around reforming the government.

Harry was shocked by the way they mentioned his parents, and the entire atmosphere of the meeting. Lucius, from beside him, sighed.

"The next memory is not near as pleasant," he warned the boy.

The memory shifted again, and Harry was immediately embraced by smoke. Harry screamed at Lucius, who was busy watching the three figures who were trying to douse the flames surrounding them.

"We need to get out of here!" One of them yelled.

The three people suddenly levitated themselves. They landed outside the burning manor, and Harry watched with wide eyes as he stared at the three figures. The Dark Lord was half unconscious, clutching a burn on his side. Caroline, on the other hand, was relatively unharmed, but she clutched the small baby boy to her as if he was her lifeline. Beside them, Lucius was coughing and swearing violently.

"The Order?" Lucius asked angrily.

The Dark Lord looked up in sudden alarm, turning to his wife and child in panic. "We need to get out of here."

"Your injured, Tom," Caroline murmured anxiously.

"It's nothing," he said quickly, but he winced when he sat up. "Is Hadrian okay?"

She nodded.

"We can't disapparate with Hadrian, but the Order will be here any second." Lucius examined their surroundings warily. "How did they break the wards?"

Tom pulled himself to his feet, and the group quickly headed towards the forest nearby. They didn't make it far. Twenty people ambushed them, and Harry recognized many of them instantly. Dumbledore was the most prominent, but it was the couple beside the Headmaster that he couldn't tear his eyes away from.

"Mom, Dad," he gasped.

Instantly spells flew around, but Tom, Caroline, and Lucius were completely outnumbered. The Dark Lord spent all of his remaining energy putting a protective bubble around them, and Caroline couldn't do much with a baby in her arms. That left Lucius to do the rest, and although he was a strong dueler, he was in very bad odds. Harry watched with shock as the Order ruthlessly tore down the protective shield. A cutting curse hit Tom, and he fell to the ground.

James Potter was the one who reached Caroline first, despite Lucius' efforts to protect her. Lucius could do nothing as he watched his sister and godson be taken away. He was too busy trying to protect his unconscious Lord to fully aid his sister, who was yelling at him to leave.

Lucius, knowing all three of them would be capture, reluctantly did what she said. Grabbing the Dark Lord, he vanished.

It was the next memory that was really horrifying. Lucius had to explain to a bedridden Tom Riddle that they had searched and searched but could not find Caroline or Hadrian.

The Dark Lord's magic destroyed practically everything in the room, even lashing against Lucius. Lucius stood up shakily from the floor, and touched his lord's shoulder.

"Get out," the man hissed at him.

Lucius tried to comfort him, but his eyes flashed dangerously at the younger man. Hastily, Lucius followed the command and left, but outside he could hear the heart wrenching sobs from inside his lord's chambers. Lucius fell to the floor and silently cried as well.

The memories ended, and they landed back into the office. Harry stared at Lucius Malfoy, numb. He didn't know how to feel. Everything he saw just proved that the Dark Lord truly was not the man that the Headmaster made him out to be. And to know his parents had been involved in the capture…

He understood now why Lord Voldemort had been so angry. And he also knew why the man had sought to kill him.

"He hated himself," Lucius spoke quietly, breaking the completive silence. "He blamed himself. It tore him apart. He went to new extremes to seek immortality, to crush any weakness."

Harry simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He understood what that felt like. There was nothing worse than weakness.

That night, Harry had nightmares about the memories. As he witnessed the ambush over and over, the dark-haired boy couldn't help but think he was missing something. It wasn't until the morning that he realized what it was.

Harry couldn't believe he had never thought of it before. But the look on Caroline's face was so full of love as she held her baby. Caroline must have loved her son just as much as Lily Potter loved him. In fact, many parents must have felt the same. His mom couldn't have been the only witch capable of sacrificing her life for her child's.

So why had he, Harry James Potter, lived?

Thank you to all of you who reviewed! A few of you really made me laugh. I do believe one certain reviewer was ignoring a parent-teacher meeting… I feel honored ;) Thank you for all the wonderful feedback and encouragement.

I hope Harry seems in character and that the Malfoys/Dark Lord are also sufficiently in character (or as much as they can be considering my story). I had a bit of trouble with this chapter, I must admit. Next chapter there will be a startling revelation! I wonder how many of you have already guessed it… I must say, I haven't been quite as subtle as usual ;) I know I mentioned in my last chapter that the Harry/Dark Lord encounter would be in this chapter but… hey it just started writing itself and there was no room for Mr. Overlord. :) Next chapter he will be featured for sure!

Anyways, please review. I love to hear from you all. Happy reading :)

Chapter 8

Why hello hello! Another chapter for you :) Sorry for the wait. Hope you like this chapter, most of you guessed what the big reveal was, but for those of you who didn't here you go!

Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter. Anything you recognize in any part of this story belongs to the wonderful J.K.R.

Warnings: Mild OCness, abuse references, and some mildly disturbing thoughts

Harry hesitantly knocked on Mr. Malfoy's study late the next afternoon. He had been considering his mother's sacrifice all day and had spent hours researching. He couldn't find anything resembling the magic that, according to the Headmaster, his mother used to save him. Although there were plenty more books in the Malfoy Library to pursue, he was hoping the man would offer insight. Now that he was here though, he was starting to regret his decision.

"Come in, Harry," the man called.

Harry opened the door, surprised. Lucius was sitting behind his desk, and Harry walked over to stand before him.

"How did you know it was me, sir?"

"Lucius," the blonde corrected casually.

Harry inclined his head.

"No one knocks as quietly as you," Lucius explained.

Harry sighed.

"Now what do you need, Harry?"

"If you're busy…"

"Do I look busy, Harry?"

The Gryffindor noticed that for once his desk wasn't covered with paperwork. Harry shook his head.

"And even if I was, I always have time to talk." Lucius leaned forward, his chin resting on his folded hands. "Is this about the memories from last night?"

Harry paused, still hovering in front of the man's desk. He motioned for Harry to take a seat and he obeyed the direction slowly. Lucius was waiting expectantly.

"I was thinking last night…" Harry said softly. "It seemed unrealistic that my mum could have saved me when other mothers did not. I mean, she wasn't the only one who lov-cared about her child."

Lucius noticed his correction, and held back a sigh. The boy still would not accept that he could be loved. He pushed away that thought, planning to address it at another time, and instead focused on the main issue.

"Yes, I have had similar thoughts in the past," Lucius told him. "I spent many days looking into it years ago. I'm afraid I couldn't find anything that supports your situation. But I guess that would be why you're so famous: you survived when others did not."

"But why?" Harry whispered. "I'm not anyone special. I'm not even normal. The Dursleys proved that."

"They were wrong, Harry," Lucius said quickly. He stood up and came to kneel in front of the black-haired boy. "What the Dursleys did was wrong. Everything they said to you was a lie. And it was not your fault."

Harry shook his head, trying to maintain his composure. "Then why didn't anyone do anything?" he retorted. "Everyone knew I deserved it, everyone knew it was my fault. I am just a freak-"

"Harry," Lucius cut in.

Harry froze. He had broken one of the new rules. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Lucius eyed him carefully. "You broke a rule," he agreed.

Harry stiffened as the man stood up and walked over to his desk. He gave an oath not to punish him. But perhaps… perhaps he was going to get someone else to deliver the punishment? Or maybe the oath was a fluke? Or… maybe, like the Headmaster, he wanted Harry to punish himself?

"Come here, Harry," Lucius said quietly.

Harry shakily obeyed, outwardly displaying no weakness, yet inside he was terrified.

"Sit."

Harry sat down in Lord Malfoy's chair, confused. The man placed a piece of blank parchment in front of him.

"I want you to use this paper and my quill to write lines."

Harry relaxed. Lines, he could do lines. He could do lines until his arm fell off and it still would not compare to any punishment he usually received. Lucius definitely did not know how to discipline someone correctly.

"I want you to write 'I am not a freak' two hundred times."

Harry's head snapped up. He knew that the man was insistent about him not referring to himself in such a manner, but he thought it was just to keep up appearances. He was a freak, surely the lord knew that?

Lucius grabbed a book from his nearby shelf, apparently believing Harry would start. But surely the man was not serious?

"My lord, I don't-"

The book slipped from his fingers, but Lucius made no attempt to pick it up. Harry went silent, alarmed.

"I am not your lord, Harry," he whispered.

Harry tensed. "I'm-I'm sorry, Lor-Mr. Malfoy. I-the Headmaster always insists I refer to him as such, especially when I'm being disciplined."

"I would never require such a thing, Harry," he said softly, his grey eyes piercing.

Harry averted his eyes and nodded once. "Yes sir."

"It's still Lucius, even if you are being reprimanded," the man correctly.

Harry nodded again and Lucius picked up his book.

"Go ahead and start, Harry," he said with forced lightness, taking a seat nearby with his book.

Harry took a deep breath, and slowly dipped the quill into ink. He did not dare try to question the man again. Obediently, he wrote 'I am not a freak' over and over. His arm was aching by the time he reached two hundred. He put down the quill silently thirty minutes later, and turned to Lucius.

"I'm done, Lucius," he said, forcing himself to use his given name.

Lucius looked up from his book and smiled. "Good, now we can continue our earlier discussion."

Harry held up the parchment. "Don't you want these?"

"No, you keep them." Lucius cleared his throat. "In fact, I want you to place them on your bedside as a reminder every day."

Harry couldn't understand Lord Malfoy; the man truly believed he wasn't a freak. And this man was not one to be hoodwinked. Perhaps…

"Harry, I want to talk to you more about the Dursleys."

Harry met his eyes, inwardly panicking.

"You said everyone thought you deserved this awful treatment," Lucius stated. "Why do you think that?"

Harry closed his eyes. "How could they not have known? My letter was addressed to 'the Cupboard Under the Stairs', and… I was always covered in bruises. I hardly ate… especially the first week before and after summer. And the Headmaster told me I needed it. The other professors must have felt the same."

"The cupboard under the stairs?" Lucius questioned, suspicious.

"That is where I slept until I was eleven," Harry informed him quietly, opening his eyes slowly.

Malfoy Senior's face practically erupted with fury, and Harry barely concealed a flinch.

"How dare they," he hissed. "How dare they treat you like an animal!"

"It could have been worse, it's not like they asked for me."

"Don't make excuses for those monsters," Lucius growled.

Harry stiffened. He couldn't understand why the man was acting this way. He was even surprised the man didn't know. He was so sure that he and his Death Eater friends had all gathered around and laughed at poor, pathetic, defenseless Potter. But the man hadn't known. Who else didn't know? Maybe…

"I promise you, most of the people at Hogwarts had no clue," Lucius murmured. "Dumbledore was lying to you and hiding it from the facility. And if anyone did know, I will ensure they are promptly sacked."

The Gryffindor's eyes widened.

"He will be brought to justice, along with your relatives. This is inconceivable-"

"No," Harry choked out. "The Headmaster-"

" Harry ."

The black-haired teenager stopped at the man's anguished tone.

"I don't know what Dumbledore did to you, and I can't even imagine," he whispered. "He was supposed to protect you, never harm you. Harry, you don't deserve this. And what if there is others? What if the Headmaster is hurting other students? Imagine if he was using the same reasoning with Mister Weasley or Miss Granger."

"But they don't need it. They don't deserve-"

The man suddenly rushed to his side, gripping the boy firmly by his wrists. " You don't deserve it. You don't need it. The Dark Lord is no longer your enemy. Your parents would be appalled by this treatment. Unlike what the Headmaster has told you, they would love you no matter what. They would never want you to suffer."

Tears threatened to fall from Harry's eyes, and he pushed them back. "How do you know?" he whispered.

"Because that is how I feel, and a few weeks ago you were my enemy," Lucius gently told him, loosening his hold slightly. "Your parents would of course feel the same, even more so."

Harry couldn't believe that Lord Malfoy was claiming he cared. And his parents? "But they trusted Professor Dumbledore-"

"If they knew the truth about him, they would have never trusted him." Lucius released him from his hold, but remained kneeling. "They never wanted you to go to the Dursleys, and they never wanted you to be trained as a sheep for slaughter."

"Then why did I go the Dursleys? They can't have been my only family. I must be connected to several Pureblood families. Perhaps even you! So why did no one care? Why did they just leave me there, year after year, broken bone after broken bone?"

Sadness came over Lord Malfoy, especially with Harry's defiance. The boy truly believed he was unwanted. And the piece about broken bones… Lucius felt sick to his stomach thinking about the young man experiencing that over and over.

"Dumbledore placed you there. None of us had reason to question it," Lucius said. He shook his head. "Apparently, we should have."

"I want to know who my family is," Harry suddenly requested. "I-I don't want to stay with the Dursleys anymore."

Harry was shocked by his nerve to request such a thing, but it was true. He didn't want to go back to that hellhole, where he got punished for even living. Yes, he may need training, but not from the Dursleys. He never actually did anything to them.

Lucius smiled. "Of course. We can tell Severus right away."

"Professor Snape?" Harry asked, puzzled.

Lucius nodded, still smiling. "You'll see. Now run along! Tibby told me she was making those grilled cheese sandwiches you are so fond of."

Harry actually smiled at that. He didn't know how the house elf had found out, but he loved her grilled cheese sandwiches. And Tibby always knew when he needed them to cheer him up.

"Why do I have to receive Potions tutoring as well?" Harry sighed. "I'd rather practice Occlumency."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You did ask about your extended family. Well, you are going to assist me if you want to find out."

This caught Harry's interest, and he surveyed the supplies curiously. "What are we making then?"

"A bloodline potion," Snape told him.

They started the potion together, but Harry was a bit apprehensive. Would Snape be just like he was in class? The man had apologized. Much to the young man's shock, Snape only offered him quiet instruction. In fact, it was almost enjoyable, and he followed every order to near perfection. Snape also was stunned by Harry's newfound ability.

"Mr. Potter," he finally said quietly while they waited for the potion to cool. "That was a Sixth Year potion. Quite exceptional for someone barely scrapping by in my class."

Harry froze.

"Do you hold back in all of your classes, or just mine?" Snape asked knowingly, folding his arms over his chest.

Harry laughed nervously. "I always try my best, sir."

"You are a dreadful liar, Potter."

The Gryffindor groaned, his shoulders slumping.

"Did Dumbledore-"

"No," Harry denied quickly. "No, not the Headmaster." He paused, but then reluctantly clarified. "My relatives were… unhappy if I ever beat out my cousin in school. I learned quickly to hide my abilities."

"Your cousin does not go to Hogwarts," Snape said slowly.

"I thought I'd be able to actually show my true skills at Hogwarts," Harry agreed quietly. "Then I met Ron, who was jealous of everything, even the very thing that robbed me of a family. And Hermione, who would hate me the moment I became competition."

Snape sighed, understanding completely. For an abused boy, friendship and acceptance must have been much more important than grades. Snape sternly met his eyes.

"No more holding back from now on, Mr. Potter," he ordered. "Or you'll be in detention until you graduate."

Harry hesitantly nodded, stunned that the man even cared enough to bother.

Snape suddenly leaned forward to stare into the potion. "It's ready. Now all that is needed is a drop of your blood."

Without faltering, Harry grabbed a clean potions knife and held his arm over the cauldron. With one fast strike, a trail of blood fell in. Harry pulled back, satisfied. Snape quickly healed him arm.

"Only a drop was necessary," Snape stated softly, his silky voice carrying a hint of concern.

Harry shrugged. "Does it matter?" he asked.

Before the Potions Master could respond, Harry gently poured some of the potion onto a piece of blank parchment. The words came after a few seconds.

Name:

Hadrian Marvalo Riddle A.K.A Harry James Potter

Biological Parents:

Tom Riddle Jr., Father

Caroline Riddle née Malfoy, Mother

Adopted Parents:

James Potter

Lily Potter née Evans

Grandparents:

Merope Gaunt

Tom Riddle

Abraxas Malfoy

Cassia Malfoy née Crouch

Closest Relatives (by blood):

Lucius Malfoy

Narcissa Malfoy née Black

Bellatrix Lestrange née Black

Andromeda Tonks née Black

Sirius Black

Regulus Black

Bartemius Crouch Jr.

Evan Rosier

Harry stared at the parchment, his breath caught in his throat. His body felt numb. How could this be? He was Lord Voldemort's son . He was related to the Malfoys. He was the boy that the Order had captured and the boy everyone presumed was dead. Dumbledore had given him to the Potters. The Dark Lord had come to the Potters for revenge and had almost unknowingly killed his own son. Dumbledore had told him all his school years that he was repaying Voldemort for killing his parents. Dumbledore had been raising him to kill or be slaughtered by his own father .

"It's not possible," Harry whispered. But the more he stared at the parchment, the more he understood.

Snape, beside him, was stunned into silence. He couldn't move. His prince was right next to him, alive and well. Harry Potter was not truly Harry Potter. The Dark Lord would be overjoyed.

"You were all right," Harry said almost inaudibly, but the volume quickly escalated. "Dumbledore-I hate him! I HATE HIM! HE TOLD ME I NEEDED TO REPAY MY PARENTS! HE SAID THAT I NEEDED EVERY PUNISHMENT! HE SAID THEY WOULD HATE ME FOR ANY WEAKNESS!" He dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face. "I have a father. And Dumbledore killed my mother. My parents - the Potters - they knew, they just let Dumbledore steal me. I hate them. I hate them all."

Snape cautiously placed a hand on his student's shoulder. Harry looked up, his face full of anger, and his tears halted.

"I'll take you to him," Snape said quietly. "And we will get that bastard back. Dumbledore will not get away with this."

Harry stood up, practically radiating power. "No, he won't," Harry hissed, his emerald eyes gleaming.

"But first," Snape told him, "you should speak with Lucius. He deserves to know his Godson is alive."

Godson. Some of the anger melted away at that. Unlike Sirius, Lucius Malfoy promised to take him away from the Dursleys. Sirius followed Dumbledore's every whim, but this man - his Godfather - he had been telling him the truth all along.

Harry nodded in agreement.

They found Lucius in a living room with his wife. The couple smiled at them as they came in.

"Harry, how did you test go?" Narcissa asked, beaming at him.

Harry wordlessly handed the paper to them, feeling suddenly terrified. What if they didn't care? What if they didn't want him? What if-

"Is this real?" Lucius gasped, his eyes wide.

Narcissa was watching them, looking extremely hopeful.

Snape gave a single nod.

Lucius stood up and approached his godson. He scanned Harry's face, before embracing him tightly.

"Hadrian," he whispered.

When he pulled back, tears were in the usually flawlessly dignified man's eyes. Narcissa also reached for the young black-haired boy. She cupped his face with her delicate hands and just looked at him with a watery smile.

"We must tell your father at once," Lucius said. "He will be ecstatic."

Something fluttered in Harry's heart at the mention of his father. He had a father! And Harry hoped more than anything that the man would accept him.

"He will?"

The three adults all watched him knowingly.

"Of course," Narcissa said, with a smile on her lips.

Draco leaned against the tree, silently staring out at the lake. Theodore and Pansy were on his right, with Blaise and Daphne on his left. Blaise and Daphne were reading, while Theo and Pansy talked quietly. They all kept on glancing at him, clearly knowing there was something wrong. Theo even mentioned his latest encounter with Hermione Granger, but Draco still remained silent.

"Uncle Sev let me use his floo to go see my parents last night. He said they had something important to discuss," Draco finally told them. "The Dark Lord is back."

He expected shocked and perhaps excited expressions, but they all just smirked at him.

"My dad informed me last night," Theodore informed him.

"As did mine," Daphne added.

"Found out this morning," Pansy murmured.

"I guessed it by the way you were all acting," Blaise said quietly.

The Slytherins all stared at each other.

"The war is starting," Draco stated. "It's coming. This is real."

They all nodded seriously, considering the situation.

"I want to join the Dark Lord soon," Draco told them softly. "I want to dedicate my life to his cause."

Pansy shook her head, touching his arm gently. "Draco, we are only Fourth Years."

"I know," he whispered. "I just…" He sighed, averting his eyes from her. "I want revenge for Harry."

"Harry?" Daphne repeated, with her eyebrows raised. "Didn't know you two were dating," she added cynically.

Draco ignored her, lost in thought.

"What happened?" Pansy asked. "There's something you aren't telling us. Since last night you've been like this."

Draco glanced at his friends and sighed. "He-he was basically insulting my aunt. I guess I took his words a little too seriously. And after I yelled at him… he realized. He knew what I was saying was the truth. But he was terrified of the truth, terrified of going against Dumbledore."

"What did Dumbledore do to him?" Pansy whispered.

Draco's face hardened. "Something terrible. I-I always thought he was Prince Potter, the Golden Boy…" The Slytherin seeker trailed off, shaking his head slightly. "He said nothing. Went through classes like he was the arrogant, spoiled wizard we all expected. Two months ago when I threw something in his cauldron… he didn't move fast enough to avoid the entire explosion. Luckily it wasn't lethal but… he was probably in too much pain to react in time. I just never imagined… I bet Dumbledore would call him in during his breaks and torture him. And Potter actually chose to go back again and again."

His four companions looked more solemn than he had ever seen them.

"All those insults about having no family… that his parents probably died on purpose…" Draco looked disgusted with himself. "I didn't know. I didn't know his relatives were telling him the same thing while they beat him. I didn't know that Dumbledore was telling him the same thing while he held him under the cruciatus-"

"Stop Draco," Daphne said firmly, gripping his arm tightly. "Stop."

He looked at her with a tortured expression.

"You weren't the only one who mocked him, who attacked him," Daphne told him. "The blame rests on us, and even the whole school. He was never treated as he should have been. Everyone had impossible expectations that he couldn't reach."

The five Slytherins sat in silence, all preoccupied in their own thoughts.

"The Dark Lord will give Potter justice," Daphne said confidently.

"You heard about the neutrality from the Dark Lord as well?" Draco asked, startled. "I'm surprised your dad said anything."

Daphne nodded, smirking. "Usually he doesn't, but he was rather amused by that tidbit. I'm sure that it'll put Dumbledore in a fit when he finds out."

"Neutrality?" Theo repeated, his eyes flickering between Draco and Daphne.

"In the Death Eater meeting he told his followers that Potter was not to be harmed." Daphne twirled a piece of her blond hair absentmindedly. "Basically, Potter is no longer his enemy."

Theo, Pansy, and Blaise all gasped before also smirking.

"Is Potter going to be on our side then?" Pansy asked, curious.

"I hope so, Pansy," Draco murmured. "I hope so."

Harry knew Riddle Manor was once beautiful, but it was now dark and desolate. As he walked through its shadowed hallways, with Lucius and Severus by his side, he shivered to himself. Lucius placed a hand on his arm and glanced at his godson in concern.

"Just cold," Harry whispered.

Lucius cast a warming spell on him, but he still felt frozen. His heart was racing, and he was shaking. Lucius sighed to himself.

"Don't worry, Hadrian," he said quietly. "Everything will be fine."

"The Dark Lord-"

"Your father," he cut in, correcting him.

"He tried to kill me last time," Harry whispered.

"He would have never raised a finger against you if he knew the truth," Lucius told him.

Harry glanced at Snape, who nodded curtly in agreement. As they climbed a staircase, Harry prayed that his godfather and his professor were right. They stopped in front of the first door. Harry's breath caught in his throat as his anxiety rose. Snape knocked once.

"Enter," a smooth, almost snake-like voice called.

Snape stepped in, and Harry and Lucius followed behind. Lucius blocked his view, and when both he and Snape bowed deeply, Harry hastily did the same. When the Gryffindor straightened, he finally moved to be able to see his father.

He was obscured by the shadows, but Harry could just make out his tall, lean frame. His power was evident; the man's very magic was choking him. Harry fought to control his breathing as he felt the magic wash over him. Slowly, the man stepped forward into the light. Just like in his vision of the Death Eater meeting, he looked like an older version of the diary Tom Riddle. The man smirked at them as he leaned against his desk. His red eyes never strayed from Harry as he twirled his wand in his hand.

"Harry Potter," he murmured.

Harry did not look away from his father. His magic, while overpowering, was almost soothing. He… recognized it.

"Severus showed me his memories of you," the Dark Lord said smoothly.

Harry flinched at that, glancing at Snape in horror. He knew that the man had told the Dark Lord, but showing him… his father must think he was weak.

"How long?" The Dark Lord asked, taking a step closer.

Harry closed his eyes, feeling nauseous. "Since First Year."

"And no one ever noticed… until you ran into Draco a few weeks ago."

"Yes," Harry whispered.

"Do you still wish to follow Dumbledore?" His red eyes observed Harry with interest.

Harry took a deep breath. "No," he said confidently.

Lucius gripped his shoulder at that, offering his godson a smile. The Dark Lord watched the exchange with narrowed eyes, curious.

"You seemed so certain in the memories," the Dark Lord said thoughtfully.

Harry didn't reply, and the room fell silent. Lucius finally stepped forward, unable to stay quiet any longer, and he offered his lord the paper. The Dark Lord took it from the blonde, his eyebrows raised. When his eyes scanned the paper, he froze. He looked up, not even trying to hide his shock. He stared at Harry and took a few steps forward until they were only a few feet apart.

"Impossible," the Dark Lord whispered. He glared at both Lucius and Snape. "This could never be true."

"It is," Snape told him evenly. "The potion was not tampered with, nor was the information."

The Dark Lord stared at the parchment for a long moment before finally looking up. He took out his wand, directing it at Harry. Harry braced himself for a curse.

"My lord-"

" Invenire proavis," the Dark Lord murmured.

Harry waited for some sort of pain, but the spell merely floated over him. The words Tom Riddle Jr. and Caroline Riddle floated over his head. The Dark Lord stared at Harry in stunned silence.

"Leave us," he ordered huskily, waving away his two followers.

Snape glanced at Harry and then bowed before leaving. Lucius remained stiff by Harry's side.

"Lucius," the Dark Lord said coolly. "I believe I just gave you an order."

"I am your brother-in-law," Lucius said quietly, staring at the Dark Lord fearlessly.

"You were," the Dark Lord told him harshly. "When Caroline was alive."

"My mother," Harry breathed, interrupting the tense exchange.

His father turned to face Harry, his features softening. "Yes," he whispered. He stepped closer, slowly placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry expected to feel pain from his scar, but surprisingly it only prickled slightly.

"All these years… my son is alive," he whispered, while his amber-red eyes took in every part of him. "You must be wearing a glamour." He pointed his wand at Harry again. "This shouldn't hurt. Revelabis clamando!"

The magic tingled as it circled his body, and Harry knew instantly something was different. He felt taller, stronger. Both Lucius and the Dark Lord observed him with satisfied smiles.

"Much better," his father whispered.

At Harry's curious expression, the Dark Lord waved his wand lazily and a full-length mirror was conjured. Harry stepped closer to look, but his vision was blurry. Tentatively, he removed his glasses and his vision was instantly clear. Harry gasped, and his glasses slipped through his fingers to break on the floor. The young man's eyes did not stray from the mirror.

His hair was straighter and darker, and his face greatly resembled his father's. His emerald eyes were the only thing that remained from his previous self.

"You are my son," he said proudly.

A million emotions were running through Harry's mind, but the most powerful was the feeling of belonging. He knew without a doubt that this man - the Dark Lord - was his father. He could feel it in his magic and in his blood. And the man actually seemed to care. Maybe the lord could truly come to love him.

Harry suddenly leaped towards him, wrapping his arms around his father. The Dark Lord slowly did the same, smiling slightly at the boy. Over Harry's head, he met the gaze of Lucius. The blond lord bowed slightly to him before exiting the room quietly. Father and son remained in an embrace, both unable and unwilling to let go.

"Welcome home, son," the Dark Lord whispered, fighting back tears for the first time in a decade. "Welcome home."

Note: The Dark Lord used a spell to double-check the bloodline potion. The OC spell (meaning find ancestry in Latin) is meant to only reveal the person's direct line (parents). That is the reason Lucius did not just use this spell, because Harry thought he knew who his parents were and he just wanted to know more about his extended family.

Also, I hope the Dark Lord was suitably in character (as much as he could be for an AU). He's not some mushy-mushy, hugs and kisses person all of a sudden and he probably never will be. But he will of course care for Harry and they will always remain on the same side.

I hope you liked the brief look into the Slytherins at Hogwarts. I really just love playing with their characters. I plan for them to start interacting with Harry soon.

**Also - important! Harry has of course been very angsty and overall has been acting like an abused teenager. His situation is unique because not only does he think he deserves it, but (in Dumbledore's case) he thinks he needs it. Now that he realizes everything has been a lie - fully realizes because he has had suspicions - much of the emotional drama will be gone. Harry will not, however, be a completely normal, confident teenager instantly. Eventually he will overcome his tendencies leftover from the abuse, but it will be gradual. This is most definitively a strong!powerful! Harry story, but you have to be a little patient.

Abuse is a horrible thing and if you or anyone else you know experiences any form of abuse please get help! No one deserves to be physically, sexually, or mentally harmed. Although I am ignorant to the reality of abuse, I hope no one ever feels like Harry (or Hadrian).

As for the name issue, I will continue to use Harry unless he is being addressed by those who know him for his real name (Hadrian).

Sorry for the long AN! Hope you can forgive me :) Please review, I love friendly feedback! Happy reading :)

Chapter 9

Here's another chapter! Thanks for the overwhelming feedback! You guys are awesome! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter in this chapter or any others. All rights to the wonderful J.K.R.

Warnings: light mentions of abuse

Harry was not quite sure what he had been expecting. His few encounters with the Dark Lord previously were never enjoyable, and his few visions of the man hadn't made a real impression. Then, when he had seen the memories of the Dark Lord in Lucius' pensieve, his outlook had shifted.

Despite this, the Gryffindor had expected the man to perhaps reject him, or treat him coldly, but the Dark Lord seemed very hopeful. He was acting much like the Tom Riddle from the memories and not the Dark Lord he had heard terrible things about or remembered from First Year.

Harry never wanted to be released from his father's embrace. At that moment, he understood what it meant to have a family. And that was something he never wanted to let go of.

"Hadrian," the Dark Lord murmured, and Harry felt a burst of warmth at hearing his real name from his father's mouth. The man pulled back, holding his son by his shoulders as he examined him. A few minutes passed, and his small smile suddenly dropped. He stepped away from Harry, removing his hold. "I almost… I thought you were the Potter's child… I could have killed you."

Harry was shocked by the anguish in his father's voice.

"I never would have harmed you if I had known the truth," he continued quickly, his eyes piercing into Harry's. "When you were a baby… and when you were in your First Year at Hogwarts… I was not myself. I would have never hurt you, my son . I cannot believe Dumbledore kept you alive. I thought, with Caroline…"

Harry remained silent as the man turned away from him and walked over to clutch the nearby windowsill. A few minutes passed and Harry waited for his father to continue speaking, but when he remained quiet Harry took a few inaudible steps until he was by his side.

"Sir?" Harry whispered.

The Dark Lord turned instantly, and Harry flinched back at the swift movement. His father noticed immediately.

"That bastard," the man hissed. "He tortured you, raised you up to kill me." His red eyes gleamed sinisterly. "And before, he had those disgusting, worthless muggles abuse you, train you that what he was doing was right-"

Harry took a few steps back, shaking his head. He shivered when his father angry eyes glared into him.

"I'll kill him and those muggles!" His face darkened considerably, and Harry fought back the thrill of fear inside him as his father's magic flared. "How dare they-"

"Don't," Harry whispered, his legs pressed against the side of the huge desk which prevented him from moving back more. "I-they never wanted me… I was just a burden-"

" Do not make excuses for those muggles," his father said harshly. "What they did was unforgivable!"

Harry stopped, remembering Lucius and Professor Snape saying the same thing.

Lucius, with his unwavering resolve and understanding eyes… His words had been so fierce, so strong… This dignified man who had taken in his lord's mortal enemy before he knew the truth… His words from the day before echoed in his mind.

" Don't make excuses for those monsters!"

" What the Dursleys did was wrong. Everything they said to you was a lie. And it was not your fault."

Even Professor Snape, who was the first to confront him, had said similar things… He had been so harsh, so demanding, but so persistent in telling him that what had happened to him was wrong… In that occlumency lesson he had been surprisingly comforting, and Harry wanted to believe what he had said…

"He did not deserve your trust Harry. He was wrong to do what he did. Your uncle was wrong to do what he did. I was wrong to treat you in such a manner in the past."

"Trust me, Harry, with this. Even if you do not trust me in anything else, at least accept that you do not and did not deserve to be put through so much pain."

Harry stared at his father and tried to control his breathing. He didn't know how to react to his father's words, or Malfoy Senior's and Snape's for that matter, but part of him started to believe it. This was all Dumbledore's fault! If it weren't for the Headmaster he would have a mother and a father, and he never would have experienced such pain! He would have had a family!

The Dark Lord watched his son with a blank face, but his eyes showed a glimmer of concern at his defensive stance. He had a sudden idea, and motioned Harry over.

"Come Hadrian. I'd like to show you my -our - home."

Harry stared at him in surprise, but smiled at 'our home'. "You mean here, at Riddle Manor?" Harry asked quietly, straightening.

"No," his father said, shaking his head. "This is just a headquarters, of sorts."

"Oh," Harry said, curious.

"Come here," the Dark Lord ordered calmly.

Harry stiffened and eyed the man uncertainly. But, remembering their earlier embrace, he quickly relaxed. He felt the man's magic wash over him gently as he walked closer and closer to him. His father indicated to a pendant on his shirt.

"This is a portkey that will take us to our home."

Harry recalled from the quidditch match in the summer what a portkey was. He nodded, but still flinched when the man gripped his arm.

"We need physical contact," his father explained softly, his red eyes watching him closely.

Harry nodded, feeling foolish at his reaction. When his father firmly held both his forearms, he remained still and tried to stay calm despite the close proximity. After a few moments, his fears were practically nonexistent.

"Slytherin's Sanctuary," his father said.

And with a flash, Harry and his father were transported. Harry expected to ungracefully collapse on the ground like at the quidditch match, but he was held securely by his father. Harry was thankful that this time around was a lot less nauseating, but he still did not enjoy the sensation at all. His father slowly released his grip.

Harry looked around shakily, and was awed by his surroundings. They were in a huge entrance hall, with high ceilings, exquisite marble floors, and elaborate designs. Harry looked above to see a giant gold chandelier surrounded in crystals, but then lurched a bit from a wave of dizziness.

"First time using a portkey?" his father murmured, steadying him gently.

"Second," Harry informed him.

"When was the first?" his father asked, tilting his head.

Harry was shocked the man found any interest in something so inconsequential. "The Quidditch World Cup," Harry told him.

His father nodded, and Harry was amazed by how graceful and dignified the man was even with that simple movement. In this beautiful place, he seemed even more awe-inspiring.

"Let me show you around the manor," he told Harry, moving to the right.

Harry followed him hurriedly, and was impressed with every room they encountered. They went up the stairs to another level, and each room was individual and interesting in its own way. The library was on this floor, and Harry was amazed by the sheer vastness of the room. It topped all the others with its beauty and grandeur. Not only that, but the room had a peaceful feel that drew the black-haired boy in. Harry stared at all the books with a grin.

"So you inherited my love for books after all?" his father asked, bringing Harry out of his stupor. The lord smiled slightly at his son. "I was told you did not care for your studies, but I see now that that information was incorrect."

Harry paled slightly.

"By why did you never want to show your true potential?" his father asked quietly. "I'm guessing for some Gryffindor reason. Perhaps… your friends?"

Harry was astonished by how intuitive his father was. He now understood why this man was followed by so many. And his power in itself was addicting. Even now, just standing side-by-side quietly, he was practically drowning in his aura.

"You shouldn't have to sacrifice who you are to accommodate your friends, Hadrian," his father murmured, sighing at the look of shock on Harry's face. "If you do, they aren't true friends."

Harry hesitated. "I thought they were my friends anyways," Harry whispered. "Now, I'm not so sure. Everything has turned out to be a lie… maybe they are too."

His amber eyes softened as he regarded his son. "I heard you are getting along well with Draco?"

Harry met his father's gaze and nodded. "Yeah, which is weird cause we used to be unable to be in the same room without hexing each other."

"Yes, well, you were both pretending to be someone else then," his father told him thoughtfully. "And Slytherins are never what you expect."

Harry looked at the hardwood floor, thinking over his words. "I don't know if I fit into Gryffindor anymore," Harry admitted. "I don't think I ever belonged there."

He felt a hand touch his shoulder and jumped slightly. He stared at his father with wide eyes.

"Let's go to the next floor," his father said quietly.

Harry followed his father upstairs, lost in thought. He still was having trouble believing this man was his father, but he was actually somewhat nice. Sure, he had a pretty expressionless face and an overall rigid disposition, but beyond that Harry could tell he cared at least a little bit. There were times Harry had even forgotten the man was the Dark Lord.

But he was.

Harry tensed. He had to face the facts. This man wanted to kill muggles and muggleborns, and tortured his followers. He had even tried to kill Harry himself. The Gryffindor knew that the man had felt bad for that, but that was only because he was his son. If Harry had been some other baby, the Dark Lord probably wouldn't have batted an eye.

"Hadrian, this is-"

"If I liked a muggleborn, would you hate me?" Harry asked suddenly, feeling a bit desperate.

The man froze, but then slowly turned around. His face was blank as he faced the black-haired boy.

"Would you lock me in the dungeons?" Harry raised his voice angrily. "Torture me?"

The Dark Lord stared at him in silence for several moments. "Is that what you expect?" he finally asked casually.

Harry stiffened, but tried to keep up a brave face. "You-you led raids and killed hundreds of innocent people. Dumbledore-"

"After kidnapping you, leaving you with the Dursleys, and torturing you year after year, you still believe what Dumbledore said?" The Dark Lord sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

Harry trembled and averted his eyes. "I-everyone says it. That you hate muggleborns and love to kill-"

"I did," his father cut in coldly. "I did love to kill once. I was young, ambitious, and addicted to the Dark Arts. I wanted to get revenge on all muggles to somehow come to terms with my muggle father who abandoned my mother to die. I thought muggles - and muggleborns - were not worthy to live." He paused, lost in thought.

Harry waited intently, his eyes now unmoving from his father as he digested his words. He could hardly believe it. His father was a half-blood? And the reason he hated muggles so much was because of his muggle father?

"I was wrong, of course," his father continued quietly. "I met your mother - Caroline Malfoy - who happened to have a few strong opinions of her own." At his, he smiled in amusement, and Harry hung on to every word. "She was a Ravenclaw and had a few muggleborn friends. She was the first to ever challenge my philosophies."

"And now?" Harry murmured.

"Now?" the man mused. He walked over to Harry, and placed a hand on his head gently. "Now I think if you liked a muggleborn girl… and she was talented enough and I approved… well…" he smiled slightly. "I would know you had a lot of your mother in you."

Harry relaxed at those words and his touch. "So, after you married Mum… you didn't massacre muggles and muggleborns?" he asked for clarification, holding his breath as he waited for the response.

"No, I did not."

Harry released his breath, relieved.

The Dark Lord scanned his face intently. "Are you afraid of me?" he asked softly. "Did you honestly think I would hurt you for any reason?"

Harry stopped, wondering the same thing. He closed his eyes, and took in the man's magic and presence before slowly opening his eyes. The man's red-amber eyes were softer than Harry expected, and his touch was nonthreatening.

"I'm not afraid of you," Harry told him quietly, but he purposefully ignored the second question.

"You probably have trouble trusting adult males," his father said slowly, anger flickering in his gaze.

Harry froze, but uncertainly nodded.

"We will just have to fix that, then," his father said smoothly. "Now, come, I have one room in particular to show you."

Harry slowly walked behind his father, feeling a lot more relaxed with the new information. Maybe this would work out after all. Oh Merlin, he really wanted this to work out!

His father stopped and slowly opened a door.

"This will be your room."

Harry was amazed by those words. His own room! He stared at his surroundings in awe, amazed by the exquisite decorations. The room was practically the size of the Dursleys' house, and the huge bed in the middle was begging him to collapse on it. Harry walked around the room in awe, brushing his hand against the ebony bookcase and desk. He stepped across the room to the huge double doors leading to the balcony, and opened the doors slowly.

Harry walked out onto the balcony to observe the surroundings of Slytherin Manor. There was a forest surrounding them as well as a stream close by. Harry closed his eyes as a breeze flitted by. Reluctantly, he turned and walked back inside.

Harry looked through another door and was shocked to see a bathroom with a bath the size of a small swimming pool. Close to that, there was a giant wardrobe. Harry knew he would never have enough clothes to fill it up. Harry turned around and walked back over to the entry where his father remained.

"This is amazing," Harry whispered to him. "Thank you."

His father inclined his head, smirking. "Only the best for you, my son. After all, you are a prince."

Harry's eyebrows rose at those words, astounded.

"I'll leave you to get settled then."

"Wait!" Harry exclaimed, and his father turned around slowly, an eyebrow raised in question. "You-you want me to stay here? This bedroom… this is for real?"

The man looked at him in confusion, before realization settled in. "Of course, Hadrian," he said confidently. "You are my son, and of course I want you to live with me. But if you'd rather be with the Malfoys…"

"No," Harry found himself saying. "No sir."

"Father," the man corrected quietly, turning away.

"Father," Harry repeated softly, but the Dark Lord was already gone.

Theodore Nott peered at the curly-haired Gryffindor beside him. Hermione Granger glanced at him with a smile before returning to her book. Theo quickly copied her and returned to his own book on Ancient Runes. They had finished their project many days ago, but they were still meeting together every day. Theo was constantly mocked by his friends, but he found that he didn't really mind anymore.

Hermione suddenly put down her book, her face troubled.

"What's wrong, Mione?" Theo asked quietly, concerned.

"I-I haven't told anyone this," she said in a rushed whisper, "but I don't think Harry is at a relative's."

Theo tried to keep his face neutral. "Potter? Why do you think that?"

"He-well the only relatives he ever mentions are the ones he lives with. And… he doesn't really get along well with them," she admitted. "And it's just so unlike him to not talk to me about it. He hasn't even sent me an owl or anything. It's been two weeks!"

"You guys are really close, aren't you?" Theo asked, trying to fight back his jealousy. She had told many stories with Harry almost always included.

"He's my best friend," Hermione murmured. "Like a brother."

Theo felt relieved at those words. You don't have romantic feelings for a brother. And plus, it seemed like Hermione was sincere about her worry. The other Slytherins were suspicious about whether the Gryffindors were on Dumbledore's side or not. Theo had hoped Hermione was ignorant to Dumbledore's true nature, and now was certain she was.

He hesitated slightly. Perhaps he should tell her the truth. But she didn't know occlumency, it would be too much of a risk…

"Theo? You know something don't you?" Hermione whispered.

Theo inwardly cursed. Sometimes Hermione was too clever for her own good.

"Oh no," Hermione gasped. "Did Death Eaters-"

"No, no," Theo said quickly, trying to calm her down. "Nothing like that." He paused when he saw her puzzled expression. "I-well…" he rubbed a hand over his face. "Have you ever heard of occlumency, Hermione?"

She stared at him in interest, and Theo explained the basics.

"I cannot tell you anything until you can block your mind," Theo informed her.

She nodded thoughtfully. "So, will you teach me then?"

At the thought of more time with the Gryffindor, Theo smiled. "I'd love to, Mione."

She beamed and hugged him. Theo held on to her tightly, not wanting to let go. When she pulled back, she was blushing fiercely.

"Your friends won't-?"

"Screw what my friends think," Theo interrupted her, smirking. "Actually, they are actually starting to grow rather fond of you."

"You're lying."

"Would I ever lie to you, Mione?" he asked, smirking.

She stared at him, her eyes narrowed. She knew that smirk all too well. She relaxed, fighting back her own smirk.

"Well I'm glad, because I've always wanted to hang out with Draco. His blue eyes are just so dreamy," she gushed.

Theo spluttered.

Hermione fought back a victorious smile. She checked her watch suddenly.

"Oh, look at the time! Gotta go," she said, leaving quickly.

Theo got up as well with only one thought in his mind: Draco Malfoy was a dead man. It wasn't until he got to the entrance to the common room that he realized Draco had grey eyes. Theo smiled to himself, amazed.

He just got played by a Gryffindor.

That girl was really something else.

The next morning, Harry woke with a start. He had the usual nightmare last night, but luckily his silencing spells held. He observed his new surroundings, smiling slightly to himself. It faded after a few seconds.

What was he supposed to do? Was he expected at breakfast? Or maybe he was supposed to take care of himself? Surely the Dark Lord would be rather busy.

" Master says human-mouse is still useful, but I think he'd be more use in my mouth. Juicy, tasty-"

Harry got out of bed, and walked over to open his door to the source of the voice. He froze at the sight that greeted him.

He had known the Dark Lord's snake was big, but up close it was completely massive. Harry took a few quick steps back, only relieved by the fact that he could speak to it.

" Ahh, Master's hatchling," Nagini hissed, turning to regard him. "Maybe Young Master would find human-mouse for me?"

" If you're talking about Pettigrew, I'd be happy to oblige," Harry hissed back. While Harry knew now that the man had betrayed his fake parents, Harry still didn't feel comfortable trusting him. Once you betray one side once, it's easy to turn around and do it to the other.

Nagini let out an interesting set of hisses that Harry interpreted as laughing. "I like Young Master."

" I'm glad," Harry answered her. "I wouldn't want a giant snake hating my guts."

" So you do have a sense of self-preservation after all," a new voice murmured in parseltongue.

Harry turned quickly to his right and was shocked to see his father leaning against the wall by Nagini's tail.

"Good morning, sir," Harry said quickly.

"Good morning, Hadrian," the man greeted. "I'm glad you finally met Nagini, she talked about nothing else but you and Wormtail all night into the morning. Perhaps if I let her eat that sniveling fool, she will finally shut up."

Nagini hissed at him. "So unappreciated… but human-mouse does sound good. He's such an entertaining chase, the coward."

Harry laughed quietly at that. "If I find him Nagini, you'll be the first to know," Harry promised.

" Such kind hatchling Master has," Nagini hissed to the Dark Lord, and she slowly slid up Harry's leg.

Harry froze, but relaxed when the snake did not attempt to harm him.

" I'm so glad you approve, Nagini," the Dark Lord told her dryly. "Now kindly remove yourself from Hadrian, I'm sure he's hungry. And no, you may not eat Wormtail for breakfast."

Harry was amused when the snake huffed at him, complaining as she slithered away quickly. He turned to his father, still grinning.

"For a man-eating snake, she's pretty entertaining," Harry commented.

"You have no idea," his father said cynically.

They walked side-by-side in silence down to the dining hall, but it was not uncomfortable. Harry took the offered seat to his father's right, but was careful to wait until his father was seated first. When the house elves brought in their food, Harry was very grateful. He felt famished. Despite this, he waited patiently for his father to start eating. He eyed his father cautiously.

"Hadrian," the man said softly. "I saw the memory from Severus at dinner when you asked permission to eat. It's not like that here. Although it is good to be polite, you are not a guest in your own home."

Harry was taken aback, but nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"You may call me Father," the man mentioned offhandedly.

Harry's eyes shifted from his plate to the man's amber eyes. He nodded shakily, and slowly began to eat.

The Dark Lord smiled inwardly. Slowly but surely he would get his son to act like the Dark Prince he was.

Harry relaxed in the library, feeling better than he had in a long time. The Dark Lord had gone to discuss a few things with his various followers, and Harry had spent a few hours reading from one of the many books in the library. He had grabbed a beginner's Dark Arts text as well as another occlumency book he had yet to read. The fire nearby warmed him, and the pages of the Dark Arts book glowed in the light of the flames. Nagini was slithering behind him, keeping his thoroughly entertained by her occasional comments.

" Did Master ever tell young hatchling about the time he was with Mistress and she tried to get him to cook?"

At this, Harry put down his book, glancing at the snake in interest. The Dark Lord cooking?

" Mistress loved to cook, but her mother didn't approve because she said it was an elf duty." Harry swore Nagini was grinning to herself. "I've always wanted to try an elf."

Harry felt suitably afraid. "Nagini!" he exclaimed, disturbed by the snake's eating habits.

" Mistress never obeyed," Nagini continued her story. " Master was attempting to help only because she challenged his ego. I accidently flipped over some slippery water while I was looking for food."

Harry wasn't certain, but for some reason he didn't think it was an accident Nagini flipped over the so-called slippery water.

" Master slipped over it and fell on his tail!" Nagini was definitely laughing now. Her hisses came out in short, sporadic bursts. "And a bag of something white fell on his face. Mistress thought it was funny as well."

Harry assumed that the "sticky water" was honey, and the bag of white was flower. He imagined the scene and let out a laugh.

" Nagini, stop gossiping to my son, will you?"

Harry spun around in his seat to stare at his father. He felt suddenly scared. Would the man be angry at him for laughing at his expense?

" You forgot the best part anyways," the Dark Lord hissed from where he leaned against the doorframe. "I started throwing the flour at her and we were both covered in it. You were so amused by the whole thing that we involved you as well."

Harry chuckled, amazed that his father was ever this carefree. He glanced at Nagini, who looked positively insulted.

" A disgrace to such a beautiful, mighty snake," Nagini grumbled.

His father walked over gracefully and came and sat in the armchair beside him. He glanced in interest at the books on the nightstand.

"Didn't know you were interested in the Dark Arts," he mused.

"Draco introduced me," Harry explained.

He nodded. "Of course. And occlumency?"

"Professor Snape is tutoring me," Harry told him, glancing at the flames.

"And how is that going?"

Harry glanced at him momentarily before turning back to stare into the fire. "We only had one lesson and it went alright. But then he got caught up in my memories…"

"I can help as well," the Dark Lord suggested, noticing Harry's disappointment. "After all, I am fairly accomplished in the mind arts."

From what Draco had said, the Dark Lord was more than 'fairly accomplished'. He smiled in amusement, and by the way his father smirked he knew it as well.

"So when are you breaking everyone out of Azkaban?" Harry asked casually, smirking. "I'm assuming that is what you were busy with all day."

Startled red eyes met emerald. "What? Where did you hear that?" he asked harshly.

Harry flinched slightly at his tone. "I had a vision of your Death Eater meeting," he said quickly.

"A vision?"

Harry hesitated under the hard stare. "I often have visions about you. I saw the entire meeting while I was sleeping."

The Dark Lord looked shocked, trying to understand how that was possible. He saw a glimpse of Harry's scar and froze.

"Impossible," he breathed.

Notes:

I assume that the Dark Lord has control over Slytherin's assets. Slytherin Manor is simply one of those properties of Salazar's.

I worked really hard in making the Dark Lord as in character as possible. I hope you all are pleased with their interactions. I really wanted it to turn out a certain way, and I think it all came together decently. Please let me know on what you think.

I love Nagini. The story she told I believe is totally in character with my version of the Dark Lord. He was insulted that Caroline would say he was incapable of such a menial thing as cooking and so went to prove her wrong. Of course Nagini is full of her own devious deeds. Hehe. :)

I also loved writing the Hermione/Theo part. I really love this budding romance. And I always saw Hermione as a more devious character, but I think being surrounded by Gryffindors you don't really see that. But hanging out with Slytherins certainly changes her character a bit.

*Another important matter! I was planning on having Harry closer to Severus than he currently is now. That being said, I may change my story details from the main characters being Harry and Severus to Harry and Voldemort. This will still have some hints of Severitus, as well as some Harry/Lucius bonding. But with Voldemort being Harry's father there will obviously be more bonding between them. The reason it started out with Harry and Severus being the main characters is because of his crucial involvement in the beginning chapters.

Next chapter:

Tom has just realized that Harry is a horocrux. Will he tell Harry? And Harry has a few questions of his own! Mainly, how did he survive the killing curse?

Plus, just like Harry mentioned, the break into Azkaban is coming up! Why is Severus so afraid to face Bellatrix?

And much much more!

~ Please please review! Happy reading everybody :) ~

Chapter 10

Here's the next chapter! Might be the last one for a few weeks, so enjoy!

Disclaimer: HP belongs to J.K.R.

Thanks for your support and feedback!

Warnings: light mentions of abuse

"What is it?"

Red eyes regarded him in disbelief. "That night, when you were with the Potters and I came to kill you," he whispered, still processing his thoughts. "When the killing curse rebounded…"

"Why did the curse rebound?" Harry cut in, asking the question that had been in the back of his mind for years. His curiosity could not wait, despite the fact he knew his father was going to tell him something important.

His father paused. "There is an ancient curse on the Slytherin bloodline dating back to Salazar himself," he explained quietly. "It prevents family members from killing each other, so that no one in the Slytherin family would try to murder a relation for power or position. Salazar's ancient spell must have blocked the killing curse that night."

Harry stared at him for a long moment, taking everything in, and he momentarily forgot their earlier conversation. "How did you survive then?" he asked quietly, hoping his suspicions were wrong.

His father turned to the fire, the light flickering over his emotionless face. "When I was younger, before I met your mother, I dabbled into the darkest magics in existence. They are called horcruxes."

Harry froze instantly, feeling as if he had been punched in the gut. He had thought - hoped - that this one piece of information was not true.

"You know about horcruxes?" his father asked, startled at his reaction.

"Dumbledore," he whispered, barely able to move his lips. "I had hoped it was just another lie. That you hadn't murdered innocent people to gain immortality."

"The first was an accident," his father murmured, shifting slightly to face him more directly. "I opened the Chamber of Secrets without knowing quite its capabilities. I did not regret the mudblood's death-"

"Don't say that word," Harry hissed at him.

His father stopped, his eyes narrowed. Harry tensed, but refused to back down. Finally his father sighed, the anger fading from his expression.

"So much like your mother," he mused, giving him a sidelong glance. "Very well. The muggleborn girl - Myrtle - she was not supposed to be there. But when it happened, I do not deny that I used the opportunity."

"She hadn't done anything wrong," Harry told him in disgust. "She was innocent."

His father said nothing, and his eyes returned to stare into the fire.

Harry got to his feet angrily, his heart racing. He wanted to scream at the man, punch the wall, break the vase nearby - do anything really to make this situation better. He had known Dumbledore was right-

He stopped at that last thought, and collapsed back in the chair. The Gryffindor gripped his hair tightly, trying to forget the Headmaster.

"Hadrian, look at me."

Harry slowly raised his head. A hint of concern flickered over the older man's face.

"I never claimed I was a good man," his father murmured. "I told you I've done bad things in my lifetime, and I will continue to do things for the greater good of the wizar-"

Harry visibly flinched at the last words, and the Dark Lord stopped speaking midsentence at his reaction. The dark-haired boy shut his eyes in horror, imagining icy blue eyes staring into his soul while repeating those same words. He remembered the feeling of the cruciatus curse twisting his body, the hours he spent dizzy from blood loss, the years he trained himself not to scream as he was tortured, all for the "greater good".

"Hadrian."

His name was spoken in a breathy whisper, unmistakable concern laced in the voice, but Harry's eyes remained shut. A cool hand touched his face, and Harry froze in fear, but he didn't dare move away. He anticipated pain, but none came.

"Hadrian," his father repeated softly.

The soft tone prompted Harry to open his eyes, and when he did so he relaxed slightly under the touch. This was his father, not the Headmaster, not Vernon Dursley, his father .

"Dumbledore," his father realized, and sighed when Harry stiffened. "I did not mean to echo his words. I must admit I had forgotten about that particular slogan of his." Slowly he withdrew his hand, and wary emerald eyes followed the movement. "Hadrian… That man will pay for what he did."

Harry looked away, staring at his clenched hands in his lap. He tried to process all that he had just realized, but his head was still spinning from the flashbacks of Dumbledore. Although those memories were starting to clear, he still felt sick to his stomach. How much was his father willing to sacrifice for power?

Harry started when a hand titled his chin up.

"Hadrian, tell me what you're thinking."

"How many others did you kill?" the black-haired boy asked coldly, and his father's hand dropped abruptly as if burned. "Did you make it a habit to kill all of the defenseless girls sobbing in bathrooms?"

"Do not presume you know me," his father hissed back dangerously, gripping the arms of his chair tightly. "You are oddly self-righteous for someone who was trained to kill another person their entire life!"

Angry pulsed through the teenager, and he observed his father coolly. "Killing a murderer is different."

His father froze at those words, and for a moment Harry was certain he had gone too far. But quickly the angry morphed into an expressionless mask. "To me, there is no difference," he stated coldly. "I was blinded by my hatred of muggles. While you, on the other hand, were blinded by misguided hatred of yourself. At the end of the day, it equals the same thing."

Harry shook his head in denial. "I had a cause-"

"And you think I did not?" His father interrupted impatiently. "I wanted to create a world where we did not need to hide, where magical children like yourself were not beaten and mocked for their abilities, where trash like my father would cease to exist!" He stopped suddenly, taking a deep breath, while Harry watched him with wide eyes. He got to his feet, turning so his back was now to his son. "I wanted to change the wizarding world, bring it back to its former greatness," he whispered. "And after I met your mother, I learned exactly how to do that…. until it was ripped away from me."

Harry stared, transfixed. At the mention of his mother, some of his rage melted away.

"I killed my father when I was sixteen," the Dark Lord said softly, gripping the top of the fireplace tightly with both of his hands. "I had hoped he had been unaware of my existence - that by some chance I was wanted by someone - but he hated me the instant he saw me. He… was my first real kill. The basilisk was the one who killed the girl, but it was by my own wand my father died."

Harry remained silent, taking in the words with mixed emotions. A shiver ran down his spine at the mention of this man killing his grandfather, but a piece of him understood. Being unwanted could drive you to do anything; he himself was a testament of that.

"Say something," his father murmured, when the silence stretched out for several minutes.

"Do you regret it?" Harry whispered, and the words were barely audible.

His father, Lord Voldemort, slowly turned around. Part of his face was in the shadows, and the other half was devoid of emotion.

"What would you think of me if I said I did not?" he responded softly.

Harry found it suddenly hard to speak. "I would call you human," he finally stated.

His father sighed, looking away. His expression remained unreadable as he replied. "I do not have the luxury of humanity."

Harry turned away, not knowing how to respond. It was silent again, and neither of them attempted to break it.

"It's late," his father finally stated.

Their eyes met for a split second before Harry nodded and turned away.

"Goodnight, sir," Harry said quietly.

"Goodnight, Hadrian," the Dark Lord whispered once Harry had already left. With a sigh he collapsed back into a chair.

Nagini slithered by his feet, appearing for the first time since the argument began.

" That did not go as I had hoped," he hissed to his familiar.

" But was it unexpected?"

The Dark Lord sighed at the intuitive snake's comment. "No." He stared into the depths of the fire, which was slowly dying off. "No it was not. But I cannot fault him for who he is."

" Mistress forgave you," Nagini told him comfortingly, sliding up the back of the chair. "Perhaps, with time…"

" Perhaps," the Dark Lord agreed half-heartedly, leaning back in the chair. He fingered his wand absentmindedly. "But for now I have other concerns…" He paused, before switching out of parseltongue to yell out a house elf's name.

An older elf appeared, and she gave him a respectful bow. "Master wanted something from Dallie?"

"Yes, I want you to deliver a message to Lord Lucius Malfoy. Tell him I wish to speak with him immediately."

The elf bowed. "Yes, Master."

She popped away, and the Dark Lord turned back to observe the pitiful fire. He sighed, and cast a quick "Incendio". It wouldn't be nearly as satisfying if his brother-in-law died of cold before this conversation was over.

Lucius Malfoy took the offered seat in front of the raging fire, but his lord remained standing rather than take the other chair. Lucius outwardly relaxed with practiced ease, but inwardly he was a swirl of emotions. But, like all proper Purebloods, he revealed none of his true feelings. Or so he thought…

"No need to be so nervous, Lucius," the Dark Lord said smoothly, smirking as he leaned against the fireplace.

"My lord-" Lucius began to object, but stopped when the Dark Lord raised a hand.

"You never were good at keeping your thoughts from me, Lucius," he murmured, his smirk dropping. "Especially your doubts."

Lucius felt as if he had gone cold, despite the close proximity to the fire.

"I am not accusing you, Lucius," he said quietly. "I'm not even going to question you. What's done is done. But I do need to know where you stand now."

Lucius eyed the dark-haired man seriously. Fifteen years ago he wouldn't have hesitated to answer this question. Fifteen years ago, when Caroline was still alive, he would never have wavered from the Dark Lord's - Tom's - right hand side. But so much had changed in the space of a year, and the years after had only added to the rift.

"Where do you stand now, my lord?" Lucius dared to ask, raising his head boldly. "Are you the Dark Lord who wishes to go about killing everyone who dares to look at him and lead his followers to pointless massacres, or are you the man my sister married who wanted to create a change for the better?"

Red eyes narrowed, and the Dark Lord took a single step closer to him. For a moment Lucius was expecting a green spell to head his direction, but the moment quickly passed. His brother-in-law sighed and turned away from him.

"All I want to do now is kill Dumbledore and avenge my wife," he stated. "Nothing else is more vital."

"What about your son?" Lucius asked, feeling suddenly angry. "Does he not matter to you? You only just got him back, you couldn't possibly-"

The dark-haired lord spun around abruptly, and interrupted him viciously. "Of course he matters! That bastard killed my wife and then raised my son as a sheep for slaughter! What else would you have me do?"

"Of course Dumbledore should die," Lucius agreed with a cruel glint in his eyes. "He should die a slow, painful death." He hesitated, the anger fading. "But you can't let this blind you. After Caroline died you went against everything she stood for - everything you stood for. You changed into someone Caroline would never-"

Lucius stopped when he saw his lord's face. The Dark Lord's magic mimicked his mood, and the fire flared considerably. The man raised his wand, and Lucius stiffened.

" Cruc- " The Dark Lord began, but stopped suddenly. "You have no right to say such things," he hissed instead, lowering his wand.

Lucius slowly relaxed, but he eyed the man in disbelief. The Dark Lord regarded him for a long moment, and the blonde noticed he was perfectly composed despite his overwhelming rage only a minute earlier.

"I had so many plans," the Dark Lord murmured, twirling his wand in a gesture that Lucius knew to mean his lord was trying to feel in control. "I was going to shape the British Wizarding World into a leading power. I had so many policies designed to save our ties to our ancestry, and stop corruption in the Ministry…" he trailed off, lost in thought.

Lucius felt suddenly regretful. "I know," he whispered. "I helped you start the reform of the Ministry after all." When the other wizard didn't answer, Lucius got to his feet. "We can try again. We can fix things, just as we always planned, my lord."

"Too much has changed," the Dark Lord stated quietly, turning away from the blonde lord.

Lucius stared at the back of this man - perhaps the most powerful man he had ever known - and couldn't help but feel furious at his words. "You wanted to know where I stand," Lucius told him icily. "Well I refuse to stand with a man who is only a shadow of what he once was."

The Dark Lord spun around, his eyes narrowed in warning.

"Kill me, torture me," Lucius said, with a bitter smile on his lips. "Either way, it doesn't matter. I had hoped your son would be enough to bring you back to reality, but I suppose it was wishful thinking."

The Dark Lord stepped closer, so they were only a few feet apart. His face was blank, carefully detached as he faced the blonde. "Is that so?" he whispered, smirking.

Lucius eyed him in confusion, startled the man was reacting to his comment as if it was meaningless.

"You know, Lucius," he murmured absentmindedly. "I do think you are correct." He smiled at the blonde's shocked expression. "This time that is," he added dangerously, narrowing his eyes. "Although I do not doubt a few crucios would be good for that tongue of yours. I never recall you being quite this straight-forward."

Lucius couldn't think of anything coherent to say. He only stepped back, confused.

"You did well in protecting my son," the Dark Lord continued, easing into one of the chairs. "It is only because of you that we learned the truth." When Lucius shook his head, the Dark Lord only motioned for him to sit down impatiently. "Do not expect me to overlook that, Lucius."

"I do not quite understand," the blonde admitted quietly.

The Dark Lord smirked at him. "I know." He seemed oddly smug, as if he had planned for the conversation to be confusing. "Now on to business. Tomorrow night…"

The next day Harry was surprised to see Dallie bring him breakfast to his room. The day before he had eaten with his father in the morning, but he guessed his father was busy. Or perhaps he just didn't want to be around him because of the previous night.

Harry wasn't quite sure what to think of the conversation from last night. Part of him wanted to just forgive his father for his past mistakes and move on. After all, he himself had some things from his past better left unturned.

He had known, of course, that his father must have killed people. But it was still scary for the fourteen year old. His mother had changed his father before he could truly become a monster, but the man still had blood on his hands.

Yet, a month ago he would not have hesitated in killing his father, when he saw him as his parent's murderer of course. And he even had entertained the thought of killing Death Eaters, certain they were all murderers, rapists, and Merlin knows what else. But now Harry could see how misguided he was. He could have killed people like Lucius Malfoy, people who have families, people who actually may not deserve to suffer.

Maybe he was wrong to judge his father so quickly. After all, until a month ago he had revered a man who Harry also knew to be a killer. And of course, Dumbledore had also tortured him frequently - a young student - while Harry had yet to hear of his father doing the same to someone his age. In fact, everyone who Harry had seen as evil a month ago had been furious on his behalf because of the treatment he received from the Headmaster, even when he had been their enemy.

Harry closed his eyes tightly. The more he thought, the more frustrated with himself he became. He had been so hypocritical and harsh, taking no thought into what his father had been willingly admitting to him. He only hoped his father would forgive him and that the trust was not severed.

Harry continued his book he had been reading the night before to distract himself from his worries. He hadn't wanted to seek out his father, and he was certain the man was angry at him. Nonetheless, the book was very interesting and a good way to get his mind off things.

Merlin, he was starting to sound like Hermione! He paused at that. He wondered what Hermione and Ron thought of his disappearance, and the whole school for that matter. It was only a matter of time before word got out.

"Hey, Potter!"

Harry looked up, startled. He hadn't noticed the door open, and was thoroughly surprised to see Draco Malfoy standing there with his classic smug smirk on his face.

"Malfoy," Harry greeted, getting to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

Draco sniffed as if offended. "Please. I know you were dying for my company."

Harry laughed at that. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Drake."

As always, he flash Harry an annoyed look at the nickname. "Shut up, Potter."

"Actually, it's Riddle now I guess," Harry told him uncertainly, shrugging.

Draco paused. "Yeah, I guess it is," he agreed quietly. Then he smiled. "Godbrother," he added.

Harry grinned at that. "Weird, isn't it?"

Draco nodded in agreement.

"But hey, at least we fight like brothers already," Harry commented lightly.

Draco looked suddenly uncomfortable. "Yes, well, I never knew I was fighting with the Dark Lord's son," he stated seriously. Then he smirked. "I might have practiced my curtsy a bit more."

Harry flushed. "Shut up, you prat."

"Well as enjoyable as you are," Draco said, "I didn't just come for conversation."

"Oh?"

The blonde grabbed a small object from an inside pocket and enlarged it with his wand. Harry smirked when he saw a broom in the blonde's hand. The smirk quickly dropped.

"I don't have a broom," Harry said quietly.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "You think I would overlook something like that? Nah, the Dark Lord bought one for you earlier according to my father. It's in the shed by the pitch. I'm surprised you haven't been down their yet."

Harry had a warm feeling at the thought of his father buying something for him and smiled. "I've been busy I guess," the dark-haired boy informed him, shrugging.

Draco looked at him smugly. "Well once I crush you, you may have to rethink how you spend your time, you bookworm. You're no better than Granger!"

Harry was surprised to hear the blonde mention his best friend, especially without using the term 'mudblood'. When he told Draco as much, the blonde shrugged.

"You'd be surprised what happens when you're gone for a month," the Slytherin said. "Granger and Theo are really close now, so we are all learning to tolerate her."

Harry raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Hermione and Nott?"

Draco smirked. "They especially enjoy meeting up in the broom closet."

"You're joking!" Harry exclaimed, fighting back a laugh.

Draco cast a sad glance to his companion. "If only I was. Theo has been all loony for weeks. He almost attacked me a few days ago because he thought I was hitting on Granger. Me, of all people. Absurd."

Harry laughed at the thought. "He must have it bad. How in Merlin's name did this happen?"

"They both spend an unhealthy amount of time in the library," Draco sneered.

The Gryffindor snorted before suddenly turned serious. "Does she know anything about me being gone?"

Draco eyed him carefully. "She suspects something is amiss," he admitted. "Theo is attempting to teach her occlumency so he could tell her the truth."

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that. He knew Hermione would not take kindly to the truth, but he really missed her.

"Come on, Gryffindork," Draco said suddenly, bringing him out of his thoughts. He held up his broom.

Harry grinned.

That night Harry collapsed into bed, feeling pleased for the first time in a long time. He got along with Draco shockingly well, and the blonde made him laugh a lot more than Ron ever did. Plus, Draco wasn't after his gold or fame.

Harry slipped into sleep, and it was peaceful for many hours. It was not until much later that he was thrown into a vision.

He was seeing everything as if he was his father. He would recognize the wand in his hand anywhere. He was standing in front of a tall, castle-like building. It was black and filthy looking. A graveyard was to his left some distance away. Harry recognized the building from the pictures of Sirius Black's escape. This was Azkaban.

Harry strode forward purposefully, and bypassed the many dementors. They bowed almost eerily to the Dark Lord, and despite it being a vision Harry still shivered.

His father met no resistance. In fact, Harry was certain that the six Death Eaters behind him were certainly unnecessary. It was startling simple for them to get to the cells of the Lestranges.

Bellatrix Lestrange was waiting for them. Her hair was in crazy, unkempt curls, and she was covered in dirt and grime. The rags that served as her clothes hung off her skeleton body, and her dark eyes looked haunted. Despite her weak limbs, she lowered herself onto her knees instantly.

"My lord," she gasped. "I knew you would return."

Harry found himself kneeling slightly to help her up. He was shocked to see his father do something so kind for another. She relaxed in his hold, trusting him explicitly. He let go slowly, and he felt a wave of concern at her excessive shaking.

"I always return for my most faithful," Harry found himself saying, but of course it was his father who really spoke.

Bellatrix bowed her head. "I will always serve you, my lord." She went to kneel again, but he stopped her.

"Rest, Bella," he whispered softly.

Harry felt satisfied when she did as he said. It shifted to anger when he heard a report from a follower behind him.

"Rodolphus is dead, my lord. He must have been dead for a week now."

Harry didn't expect his father to actually have real feelings, perhaps because he was so good at hiding them outwardly. But he felt the sincere loss and regret at the news.

Bellatrix gasped at those words, and barely stopped herself from falling. She caught herself by gripping the stone wall.

"He was a good man, Bella," the Dark Lord murmured, but there was a firm edge to his words. "He will be honored. But we have no time to grieve. We must go."

Bellatrix only nodded shakily, and he reached to apparate them away. Before they did, a spell whizzed past them. The Dark Lord put up a shield automatically, with reflexes Harry was thoroughly amazed by.

Dumbledore appeared, with members of the Order flanking him that none of which Harry recognized. Intense hatred overcame the Dark Lord, and Harry gasped at the feelings.

He knew now just how his father felt about the Headmaster. His father envisioned the memories that the Potions Professor had shared with him, especially the memory of the second year Harry hurting himself. Never had Harry experienced such a degree of loathing, and he was astonished it was over himself.

"Do you have him then, Tom?" Dumbledore asked, and for an instant Harry almost believed he was angry. "After killing his parents-"

"Don't worry about the boy," the Dark Lord cut in coldly. "Worry about yourself, Dumbledore."

The Headmaster smiled at him coolly. "Oh Tom, always one for the theatrics."

His father suddenly struck, and a black curse came hurling towards Dumbledore. Dumbledore sidestepped the spell, his icy eyes narrowing.

"I wasn't done speaking, Tom," the Headmaster scolded him. "That is not very polite."

Curses after curses were sent towards the so-called Leader of the Light, but Dumbledore was an extremely good dueler. None of them hit their mark, but a few of the Order members had gotten caught in the crossfire. Harry was used to seeing his own blood, but it made him freeze to see others covered in blood.

"Caroline was much more respectful than you, my boy," Dumbledore added casually. "She was ever so polite, especially when she was begging me to spare her son's life. Of course, the devil's spawn deserves no mercy and neither did she."

Dumbledore was expecting the fury, but even he was taken aback by the ferocity of the spells sent his way by the Dark Lord. He attempted to get out of the way of a particularly nasty cutting curse, but a piece of it caught the Headmaster on the shoulder. He blocked the next spells, but looked clearly in pain.

"Die, you bastard," his father hissed. "Avada Kadavra!"

Dumbledore conjured a brick wall to take his place from the green light, and he returned the favor. Harry inwardly froze, but his father moved.

Dumbledore looked around himself, and Harry noticed he was startled to see many Death Eaters standing over injured or dead Order members. And the dementors were slowly circling in. Clearly not an idiot, Dumbledore called for retreat. He disapparited, along with his followers, and barely missed another killing curse.

"My lord!"

The Dark Lord turned around, and cursed when he saw Barty kneeling next to a bleeding Bellatrix. She had been sliced by a spell, and she was losing blood fast. His father moved quickly to her side, and started a complicated healing spell. The wound closed, but her heartbeat was slowly fading.

"I'm taking her to my manor," his father told Barty quickly. "Get Severus. Now!"

They vanished, and Harry woke up in a cold sweat.

He gripped his scar and knew without a doubt that his father was home. He also knew one thing for certain: Bellatrix Lestrange was dying.

It was hard to write the P.O.V. of Harry's vision through his father's eyes. I had a lot of trouble with it. I may go back and tweak things, but I tried to write it in a way where it was least confusing to the reader. So hope it was alright!

Snape features in the next chapter! I hope you enjoyed the cunning, complicated Dark Lord. He was quite the character in this chapter! As I'm sure you must have guessed, he was playing mind games with Lucius. Hope I made that clear enough. And Harry I believe reacted as he should of considering the situation. There will be more Harry/Voldemort next chapter!

Thanks for your reviews, they make my day! Happy reading :)

Chapter 11

Hello to all! Sorry it took so long, I have been swamped by real life. Thank you so much for all the wonderful feedback! I am shocked by how many people are so pleased with my story! Thank you for your continual support. I am going to be super busy for the next month or two, so my updating will be sporadic, but I do plan on finishing this story. Thanks for your patience!

Warnings: light mentions of abuse and torture

Disclaimer: All belongs to the wonderful J.K.R.

Severus Snape had never felt more terrified in his life.

He sprinted through his lord's manor, his heart racing in his chest. The Potions Master turned around the last corner and froze.

Bellatrix Lestrange was still on the floor of the living room, with the Dark Lord hovering over her. He had seen a great deal of blood in his life, but he tensed when he saw all the blood soaked through her ragged clothes.

Severus was kneeling next to her in the next instant, not even acknowledging the Dark Lord in his haste. He quickly cast a diagnostic spell, and was relieved his lord had had enough experience to heal the gash. But despite this, she was still in a very dangerous state.

Quickly, the Slytherin Head of House spelled a heavy dose of blood loss potion into her system. Her breathing eased a bit, and Severus knew she was stable, but he still couldn't fight off his overwhelming panic. He slowly lifted her up, dismayed by how little she weighed. He had never seen her look so fragile.

"How is she, Severus?"

Severus looked up to stare at Lucius, who was standing next to the Dark Lord.

"Stable," Severus murmured. "But she needs to be carefully monitored. Her heartbeat is still weak, and I'm afraid her magic supply is dangerously low with everything that has happened. Her time at Azkaban has left her in a terrible state."

"But she will live, Severus?" Lucius murmured, with concern on his face as he observed his sister-in-law.

Severus eyed the still Dark Lord, who was also waiting expectantly for the answer. While the lord did not show it, the Potions Master knew that he also cared a great deal about Bella's welfare.

"I won't let her die," Severus told them firmly, tightening his grip on her. "I'm taking her to a guest bedroom, my lord," the dark-haired man added as he began to walk away.

The Dark Lord gave him a single nod.

Severus stared down at the unconscious woman in his arms, and his eyes hardened. Whoever had done this would suffer a painful death, even if doing so would ruin his position as a spy in the Order.

Harry observed everything from a dark corridor, feeling strangely concerned for Bellatrix Lestrange. He had heard a few horror stories about her, but with everything that had happened Harry was sure that some of it must have been lies. And Harry wasn't blind to the fact that Severus had looked very worried. The dark-haired boy was certain he had never seen so much emotion on his professor's face before. He wondered absentmindedly what the relationship between Severus and Bellatrix was.

Harry stared at his father, who had suddenly turned away from speaking to Lucius and a man Harry knew to be Barty Crouch. His father's red eyes were unexpectedly fixated on the exact spot Harry was hiding in the shadows.

"Hadrian."

Harry tensed, but reluctantly stepped out into the light. The three men regarded him seriously. Harry found himself unable to look at his father, still worried over their argument earlier, and instead stared at his godfather.

"What are you doing awake?" The Dark Lord demanded.

"Had another vision," Harry murmured, shrugging.

His father sighed, and both Barty and Lucius watched the exchange with interest.

"Is she going to be okay?" Harry asked quietly, glancing at his father briefly.

"Yes," his father answered confidently.

Harry hesitated, uncertain whether his father was lying to appease him or if he was being truthful.

"Go to bed," the Dark Lord ordered him firmly. "I'll speak to you in the morning."

Harry's eyes flickered to Lucius and Barty before they rested back on his father. He nodded silently and slowly turned away.

"And Hadrian?"

Harry glanced over his shoulder, startled to see his father was still watching him intently. Harry stiffened.

"Don't get caught next time you eavesdrop," the lord told him absentmindedly. "It's unbecoming."

The Gryffindor shook his head in disbelief as he climbed the stairs to get back to his bedroom. Most parents would tell him to not eavesdrop at all, but of course his father would tell him to just not get caught.

His father was a Slytherin through and through, without a doubt.

The next morning Harry eyed his father anxiously throughout breakfast. His father had told him "good morning" curtly when he walked in, but other than that had remained silent. His father was even more subdued than the night before, and the Gryffindor had a good guess as to why that was. Harry pushed away his still full plate, not feeling up to eating anything.

"Your eating habits are atrocious," his father suddenly spoke up, his eyes not moving from the newspaper in his hands.

Harry started at his words, his eyes wide. "I'm not-"

"You need to eat, Hadrian," his father cut in coolly.

The Gryffindor bit his lip, unsure to be pleased or upset his father was speaking to him. "But I'm not-"

"Eat." Red eyes flickered up momentarily in warning, and his voice left no room for discussion.

Harry did so reluctantly, and he was surprised to find that he actually was hungry. As he ate his breakfast, he stared at his father piercingly.

The man didn't seem angry at him, but he wasn't exactly pleasant either. But the more Harry stared at him, the more certain he was that his father was furious at him because of their argument yesterday. Maybe the man was starting to regret taking him in? Had he realized just how much of a burden he was?

Harry stopped eating, feeling suddenly sick.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out. When his father looked up with an expressionless mask Harry felt even worse. "I-I should have trusted you. I'm a coward and an idiot for believing Dumbledore over you. I understand why you-you hate me, but I can be better I swear it. Please just don't-"

"Hadrian," his father cut in softly, the newspaper left forgotten on the table. "What, pray tell, would possibly give you the idea that I hated you?"

Harry hesitated, confused. "But last night… I was wrong to say the things I did. You should be furious at me, you should hate me." The dark-haired boy paused, shaking. "You should punish me," he whispered, closing his eyes tightly.

And, like he expected, after a pause he heard the Dark Lord murmur the torturing curse. He braced himself, but he was shocked to feel nothing. Slowly he opened his eyes, not quite believing what had happened.

The Dark Lord stepped closer to Harry and gently placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. Harry flinched at the touch, and his father eyed him sadly.

"I do not have it in me to hate you, Hadrian," he whispered. "You are my son. And no matter what you say to me, I will always see you as such."

Emerald eyes flickered in disbelief, and the boy tried to take in everything that had happened. He knew, of course, what the painless unforgivable meant. Dumbledore had told him countless times that you had to feel it, truly mean it, for the curse to work.

"I know what I had to tell you last night was hard to hear," his father continued. "I don't blame you for being upset." He squeezed Harry's shoulders lightly. "In fact, I would be worried if you had not been. I never claimed to be a saint, but I promise that I am not the man Dumbledore has portrayed me as."

Harry stared at his father, astonished by what he was saying. His whole body felt as if a huge weight had been lifted up from on top of him. He smiled slightly at his father. "I know," he admitted. "It was just hard to push away something I had believed my whole life. But I am trying to start over." He hesitated, biting his lip. "You really aren't angry with me?"

"No," the Dark Lord told him firmly, his gaze unwavering.

The Gryffindor had never been so relieved in his life. To know his father still cared was pure elation. He remembered how aggressive the man had been on his behalf when Dumbledore had taunted him and the feeling increased. Then, almost as if his body was acting on its own, he leaped from his seat to embrace the man tightly. The Dark Lord tensed at first, but eventually relaxed and held onto his son firmly.

"Don't ever doubt that you are my son, Hadrian," his father murmured. "You will always be wanted."

Harry's heart soared at those words, and he pushed away the pessimistic part of him that was certain the man was lying. The dark-haired boy pulled back, searching his father's face for sincerity. The lord stared back seriously, but his expression softened as he observed his son.

"I took the liberty of inviting over Draco and his housemates," his father suddenly said, watching him carefully. "I know you have been getting along well with young Mister Malfoy and I had hoped that you would also gain good allies in the other Slytherins."

Harry nodded slowly, having mixed feelings about his father's action. He did really enjoy spending time with his cousin, but he was nervous to meet the other Slytherins. While they had not been as vocal as Draco had been, they certainly contributed to some of his past misery nonetheless. He and Draco had learned to get along mostly because of their relation and the circumstance, but surely Draco's friends didn't know all the details…

The Gryffindor froze in horror. His father took in his pale features and frowned.

"How much do they know?" Harry whispered. "The other Slytherins," he added in explanation quietly.

His father sighed, understanding instantly why Harry had gotten so anxious. "They know the main parts," his father told him honestly. "About as much as I know, really. After all, you haven't volunteered many details." Red eyes narrowed in question.

Harry avoided his gaze, feeling suddenly clammy. He stepped away quickly from the man, fighting the urge to run from the hall. He couldn't talk about his past, not right now, and he definitely didn't want the other Slytherins to know anything. He didn't want anyone to know anything!

"May I be excused, sir?" Harry asked in a low voice.

"No. Sit down, Hadrian."

Harry's eyes snapped up in astonishment at his father's response. The man surveyed him coolly before glancing back down at his paper.

"Why must I stay, sir?" Harry asked a bit rebelliously.

"You never finished your breakfast."

The Gryffindor was taken aback at the casual response. However, he sat down silently and watched his father flip through the newspaper.

"While you're still here," his father said, looking up briefly, "I wanted to tell you that Severus is going to give you another occlumency lesson tonight."

"I thought you were going to teach me?" Harry murmured, confused and a little hurt.

"I thought it would be best if Severus did instead," his father stated.

Harry knew it was silly to be disappointed. The lord was busy of course and had better things to spend his time on. In fact, it was probably a good thing his father wasn't going to view all his horrible memories.

"But we will still be talking about it frequently," his father added sternly. "There are many memories we still need to address."

Harry tensed at those words, but bobbed his head in acknowledgement. He knew his father would require him to explain things more thoroughly, but he could only hope that it wasn't anytime soon.

"You better eat up if you want to leave this hall sometime this year," his father added lightly, gesturing to the half-eaten plate.

Harry grimaced, but conceded. Who knew the Dark Lord could be such a stickler for healthy habits!

A few hours later, Harry waited anxiously for the arrival of the Slytherins. He tried to relax on the couch in the main lounging room, but he found himself physically incapable.

The fire flared, and Harry looked at it anxiously. When an impeccably dressed blonde stepped out, he relaxed slightly. Draco Malfoy, however, did not seem very relaxed when he faced his cousin.

"What's the Dark Lord's snake doing here?" Draco hissed, looking more flustered than Harry had ever seen him.

Harry glanced down, bemused. Nagini was curled up at his feet, and Harry realized absentmindedly that most people would be horrified to even see a giant man-eating snake. It was a good thing he inherited the ability to communicate with snakes, or the Gryffindor believed he probably would have been suitably afraid of Nagini as well. But, to be honest, she was nothing more than an over-grown child with a great love for meat.

But Draco's reaction was just too good to be true. Harry grinned mischievously and prodded the sleeping snake lightly. Draco watched the action with wide eyes and shook his head furiously.

But it was too late. Nagini stirred and lifted her mighty head to observe them.

"The blond ferret is here, snakeling," Nagini hissed in excitement.

Harry bit back a laugh at Nagini's words and Draco's pale face. The young prince didn't understand what his cousin found so intimidating about Nagini. Just the other night, this same snake had run around in circles chasing her own tail because she thought it was a rat. And when Harry had told her the story of the bouncing ferret incident from this year, she had literally gone into hysterics. Afterwards, she had been adamant that Harry needed to transfigure Draco into a ferret so she could eat him. Harry had explained it was too advanced magic for him, which had made Nagini grumble to herself for a good hour about the poor education at Hogwarts.

Well, now that the Gryffindor really considered it, Nagini was a bit disturbing with her eating choices. Harry was certain that if the blonde knew what Nagini said about him he would never enter Slytherin Manor again.

"Shall I get Lady Cat or will you?" Nagini questioned seriously.

The image of Professor McGonagall, or Lady Cat according to Nagini, coming here to transfigure Draco into a ferret made Harry snicker. Draco eyed him warily.

"What did the snake say, Riddle?" he whispered dangerously.

Harry grinned impishly. He really knew it was a bad idea to bait Draco, but he couldn't resist. "I might have told Nagini about a certain bouncing ferret…"

The look on Draco's face was worth every bit of the payback he would receive later.

"And hypothetically, if you were to be transfigured into say, a ferret, Nagini may be tempted to have an afternoon snack."

When the very proper Slytherin spluttered, Harry couldn't rein in his laughter any longer. Nagini's side comments didn't help either.

But after a few moments, Harry murmured to Nagini to go somewhere else so Draco wouldn't have a heart attack. She complied, but Harry had to promise her a few juicy rats because she couldn't eat a ferret. Draco was relieved when Nagini did slither away, but glared at his cousin immediately after nonetheless.

"So is my glamour holding up?" Harry asked, before Draco could go on a tirade.

The Slytherin nodded and his glare dropped. "I was going to question you about that. It may not be nec-"

The floo flared again, and Draco stopped talking instantly. Harry watched nervously as a beautiful blonde stepped out of the flames, her icy blue eyes scanning the room coolly.

Harry had never really spoken to Daphne Greengrass. She was one of the Slytherins who never bothered with him. Harry had just assumed it was because she saw herself as too superior to even look his way. And, certainly, there was a very good reason she had gained the title "Ice Queen of Slytherin".

But she wasn't looking at him with her usual mask of indifference. She instead stepped towards him with a small smile and offered him her hand. He took it shakily.

"I'm Daphne Greengrass," she said softly.

"Harry Po-Riddle," Harry said uncertainly, stumbling over his last name.

She froze, and her hand fell away from his. Harry stopped, unsure about her reaction. He glanced at Draco, who was watching them seriously.

"You never told them then?" Harry asked quietly. He hadn't been sure how much Draco had explained.

"Wasn't my place," Draco said quietly.

Daphne was still staring at him blankly.

"I didn't realize she would recognize my father by his last name," Harry murmured.

Daphne suddenly found her voice again. "My father is in the inner circle. They all know of the Dark Lord's past name." Despite that her voice was smooth and calm, Harry could tell she was unsettled. "And we also knew that his son was killed thirteen years ago," she added, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

"I'd rather wait for the others, so I don't have to explain it more than once," Harry said heavily, sitting back down on the couch. "If that's okay with you."

She nodded once in agreement.

It was silent for a few minutes, and Harry shifted uneasily. Draco sat down quietly beside him, and Daphne did the same a few moments later. Before any of them could gather their thoughts enough to speak, the floo flared again.

Harry looked up to see a tall, dark-skinned figure step out - Blaise Zabini. Behind him, Pansy Parkinson gracefully came through, flipping her dark hair behind her. She moved out of the way for the last figure, a brown-haired boy Harry knew to be Theodore Nott.

The three of them faced Harry confidently, but he could tell they were unsure on how to address him.

"Come sit everyone," Draco said, waving to the other unoccupied seats.

They did as Draco suggested, but they eyed the lone Gryffindor warily the entire time. It was as if they expected him to lash out at them at any moment. Pansy met his gaze and smiled uncertainly. Harry looked at her in surprise but managed a shaky smile in return.

"So, how have you been, Potter?" Pansy spoke up awkwardly.

"It's Riddle now, actually," Harry corrected her instantly.

Theodore stiffened, and Pansy's eyes widened. Blaise looked between everyone in confusion.

"How?" Pansy gasped.

"I made a bloodline potion with the help of Professor Snape," Harry explained quietly. "I was curious to see who I was related to. And I learned that I had been lied to about my parentage." Harry took a deep, steadying breath. "It said my parents were Tom Riddle and Caroline Riddle, formerly Malfoy."

"Caroline Malfoy?" Blaise gasped, looking from Harry to Draco. "But that would mean…" he trailed off, astonished.

"But that's impossible," Pansy whispered. "The Dark Lord's son was taken and killed along with Caroline."

" I was taken," Harry agreed solemnly. "But Dumbledore gave me to the Potters." He stopped and took a calming breath, trying to rein in his emotions. His hands were tight fists at his sides. "When the Potters were killed by my father," Harry continued quietly, "he tried to kill me but couldn't because of a curse on the Slytherin bloodline. It was a curse designed so no one in the Slytherin bloodline could kill another in their family for power or gain."

"The Dark Lord never thought of it because he was certain he was the only direct ancestor in existence," Theodore murmured, his eyebrows raised. "Of course, he never imagined you were alive. I'm assuming the Potters altered your appearance?"

Harry nodded. After a brief hesitation he stood up and waved his wand over his body. Slowly the James Potter look-a-like disappeared to be replaced with the son of the Dark Lord.

"You look like a younger version of our lord," Daphne murmured in awe. "Without a doubt, you are his son."

Harry glanced at her and nodded. Slowly he sat back down, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the amazed expressions on the other Slytherins.

"So Dumbledore knew all this time…" Blaise said abruptly, his eyes narrowed.

The other Slytherins waited, having had their own suspicious. Harry nodded weakly.

"And he calls us dark!" Daphne hissed. "That bastard! He trained you to kill your own father and then tortured you for his own sick pleasure!"

The other Slytherins nodded in agreement, looking equally angry.

"How did the Dark Lord take it?" Pansy asked curiously, interrupting Daphne who was continuing to use foul language in regard to Dumbledore.

Harry glanced her way and smiled grimly. "I think Dumbledore will come to regret not killing me in the first place with the way my father has reacted."

The other Slytherins smirked slightly.

"Hopefully we will need a new Headmaster by next year," Draco added viciously.

"So, you're not upset with all of this?" Pansy asked Harry uncertainly.

Harry grinned at her. "To be honest, Parkinson, I've never been happier in my life."

"Pansy," she corrected him, smiling at his response. "After all, you are an honorary Slytherin now."

"Same here," the Italian descendent commented. "It's Blaise, not Zabini."

"Theo," the other boy said seriously. "Theodore is my father."

Harry glanced at the Ice Queen, who was observing him casually. "Daphne will suffice," she said haughtily, but her smile ruined the pureblood mask.

"Well, call me Hadrian then," Harry told them. "But only in private, of course."

They nodded in agreement.

Harry turned to Theo, suddenly in his brotherly protective mode. "Now I heard you have a thing for my best friend…"

Theo went red and eyed the dark-haired boy warily. Harry smirked inwardly. Maybe being around these Slytherins wouldn't be that bad after all.

"So how did your day go?" The Dark Lord asked his son at dinner later that day, after all the Slytherins had gone back home.

Harry stopped cutting his steak and smiled sincerely at his father. "I like them. Pansy is very kind, which is weird seeing since she always insulted me before. Theo reminds me of Hermione, just a bit more carefree. Blaise has a wicked sense of humor, but at the same time he is very dignified about it. And Daphne…" Harry trailed off, uncertain how to sum up the blonde girl. "Well she is certainly much more passionate than she looks."

"Oh?" The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow in interest.

"She wears this mask," Harry said, shrugging. "I always believed she had no feelings. But she was furious about Dumbledore, and although she was much more formal than the other Slytherins she was different than I expected."

The Dark Lord was quiet for a moment. "So do you still miss your old life and your old friends?" he finally asked his son softly.

Harry thought for a few seconds before shaking his head. "Ron and Hermione were basically my only friends. I hardly talked to anyone else. And Ron was always jealous of me. I do miss Hermione, but the Slytherins are getting along with her I guess."

His father looked at Harry curiously. "A Gryffindor muggle-born and the children of my followers?"

"Her and Theo have a bit of a, uh, relationship," Harry said awkwardly.

His father smirked. "Ah, yes, young love." He eyed his son thoughtfully. "Anyone caught your eye yet?"

Harry blushed a vibrant red and shook his head.

For the rest of the dinner he was suddenly very preoccupied with his steak, much to the Dark Lord's amusement.

Harry fell onto the floor ungracefully for the fifth time that night. He rubbed his head furiously as he forced himself back up.

"Maybe we should end the session for tonight," Severus said in a low voice. "You seem distracted."

"No, no," Harry protested, horrified by his offer. "I need to get this down!"

Harry had been trying unsuccessfully for the last hour to push the Potions Master out of his mind, but his stone wall crumbled at any bit of pressure. The Gryffindor was thoroughly frustrated. He couldn't understand what he was doing wrong. According to the occlumency books he has read, this approach should be working well.

"Hadrian, you're exhausted," Severus stated, using the boy's given name as Harry had demanded in the start of the lesson.

Harry shook his head stubbornly. He knew that the man was going to report to his father after the session. He couldn't let Severus tell his father of his failures. He already looked weak, he couldn't add to it.

"Very well," Severus sighed. "Be ready. Legilimens !"

The pressure came instantly. Harry closed his eyes firmly and tried to force the presence out of his mind. For a moment the pressure lessened, and Harry wondered if his defenses were working, but then everything came crashing down.

He was staring at Remus Lupin as he changed into a werewolf… He was being screamed at by his uncle… He was writing lines for Lucius… He was begging his father not to hate him…

Severus pulled out of his mind abruptly, and Harry collapsed on the ground once again. He closed his eyes tightly, not wanting to see the look on his professor's face. That last memory was the most embarrassing for Snape to see.

"Hadrian," the man murmured. "Come sit."

Harry slowly opened his eyes, and was startled to see the Slytherin Head of House watching him with concern. The dark-haired boy hesitantly stood up and took a seat next to his professor.

"Is that what has been distracting you then?"

Harry shook his head, but Severus could tell he was lying.

"Maybe I should speak to the Dark Lord-"

"No!" Harry protested, jumping to his feet. "I'm fine!"

The Potions Master frowned, eyeing him with displeasure.

Harry sat down, avoiding his gaze. He knew that if his professor informed his father about his difficulties in occlumency his father would be very disappointed.

"Very well," Severus said softly. "I shall remain quiet. But know that your worries are unfounded."

Harry head snapped up. He didn't process the professor's last words because he was shocked the man was not going to report all of this back to the Dark Lord.

"I do think we should try a new approach, however," the Potions Master added. "Do you remember reading about redirection?"

Harry frowned, his eyebrows lowering in confusion. "Yes, but it an advanced technique," he said.

"I want you to study it more thoroughly in preparation for our next lesson on Tuesday night."

"But that's three days away!"

The Potions Master nodded. "Yes, I have some other things to take care of," he said vaguely. "Now be on your way. You have some studying to do."

Harry scowled at being dismissed like an impudent child, but turned to leave anyways. Before he opened the door, he looked back over at his professor curiously. He had wondered about a certain person all day.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Hadrian?"

"Is Lady Lestrange going to be okay?" he asked softly, watching his professor closely for a reaction to his words.

The Slytherin Head of House narrowed his eyes, but nodded his head slowly. "She should wake up in a few days, and then we will have a better outlook on the situation."

"I see," Harry murmured thoughtfully. "I heard she lost her husband in Azkaban?" he inquired after a moment of consideration.

Severus stared at his student with a blank mask. "Yes," he said evenly. "Now off to bed before I give you a detention."

Harry left the room without another word, but he couldn't help but think that there was something more going on between Severus Snape and Bellatrix Lestrange.

Bit of a filler chapter… The Slytherin/Harry interaction wasn't quite how I wanted it, but it was bound to be awkward no matter how I did it. So I just pushed through the "getting to know you" stage and soon they will be quite the dynamic, interesting group. I hope all the characters weren't too OoC. Don't you love the beginning scene with Sev? There are definitely some bottled up emotions concerning Bella!

Next Chapter: Bellatrix wakes up, only to see one Severus Snape! Also, Harry spends more time with the guys in the Slytherin gang. Also, more occlumency! And of course, lots and lots of the Dark Lord!

Thanks for your support, happy reading! :)

Chapter 12

Hello to all! Thank you for your wonderful wonderful reviews! I took ages on this update, but I am hoping things will slow down now and I can update faster.

Warnings: Slight abuse references

All rights to J.K.R. Only own plot, my friends.

Previously:

Harry hesitated, confused. "But last night… I was wrong to say the things I did. You should be furious at me, you should hate me." The dark-haired boy paused, shaking. "You should punish me," he whispered, closing his eyes tightly.

And, like he expected, after a pause he heard the Dark Lord murmur the torturing curse. He braced himself, but he was shocked to feel nothing. Slowly he opened his eyes, not quite believing what had happened.

The Dark Lord stepped closer to Harry and gently placed a hand on his shoulders. Harry flinched at the touch, and his father eyed him sadly.

"I do not have it in me to hate you, Hadrian," he whispered. "You are my son. And no matter what you say to me, I will always see you as such."

…

" Is Lady Lestrange going to be okay?" he asked softly, watching his professor closely for a reaction to his words.

The Slytherin Head of House narrowed his eyes, but nodded his head slowly. "She should wake up in a few days, and then we will have a better outlook on the situation."

"I see," Harry murmured thoughtfully. "I heard she lost her husband in Azkaban?" he inquired after a moment of consideration.

Severus stared at his student with a blank mask. "Yes," he said evenly. "Now off to bed before I give you a detention."

Harry left the room without another word, but he couldn't help but think that there was something more going on between Severus Snape and Bellatrix Lestrange.

Severus Snape stared at the unconscious woman. His eyes traced over every inch of her still face. She was still very pale, but much less dangerously than before.

Even after her days in recovery, there were obvious traces of her time in Azkaban. He had used scourgify on her a few times, but her clothes were still ragged and dirty. Her body was cleaner than before, but parts of her skin looked permanently stained dark from the grime and dirt.

Yet, she still was chillingly beautiful.

Slowly, he extended his index finger and softly trailed it from her black curls to her strong jaw. After a pause he withdrew his hand with a heavy sigh.

"Oh, Bella," he murmured.

Severus knew very well what guilt did to your system. Merlin knows he has done many things he regrets, but Bella was an entirely different case. Even Lily didn't compare to the excruciating remorse he felt when he thought of Bella.

Lily had been his best friend for a good chunk of his life. But Bella knew him in ways Lily never did, in ways Severus had been afraid to show the Gryffindor. In the end he had chosen Lily, but he never expected the repercussions that followed.

He closed his eyes tightly, slamming down his occlumency shields. Once he had pushed those memories safely away, he slowly opened his eyes and settled down in a chair next to her bedside.

He didn't know how long he sat there staring at her unmoving body. Every few hours he would spell her potions into her system, hoping she would gain consciousness soon. To distract himself later that night, he started to read a potion's journal that detailed a rare ingredient found in the Amazons.

It was very late that night that she finally stirred. Instantly the Potions Master set down his book and knelt by her bedside. When her eyes slowly opened, Severus froze. It had been thirteen years since he last saw those dark eyes.

A minute passed as she took in his face with muddled confusion, but then she gasped.

"Severus?" she whispered, staring at him in disbelief.

"Hello Bella," he said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Thirsty," she rasped, coughing slightly.

He quickly conjured a glass and filled it with water, but hesitated afterwards. He knew she would be too weak to drink it without assistance, but she was much too proud to accept help. Nonetheless, he shifted to hand the water over, but he didn't let go. To his shock, she didn't protest as he helped her drink. With shaking hands she lowered the empty glass.

"Are you in any pain? Weakness? Dizziness?"

Her dark eyes regarded him blankly.

"I've been giving you a blood replenisher and a pain killer every four hours," he murmured, watching her carefully. "You still have another hour before I can give you another set."

She nodded once, almost uncaring. She stared at her bandaged torso for a few moments silently.

"Is he really dead?" she whispered suddenly, her eyes seeking his.

Severus stiffened, but forced himself to meet her gaze. "Yes."

She closed her eyes tightly. Slowly, Severus took the glass from her hand. After placing it by the bedside, he gripped her hands with surprising tenderness.

"I'm sorry, Bella."

She eyed him sadly. "I never loved him, Severus… but he loved me. Part of me always wished I could."

For some reason, this only magnified his guilt. He pulled away, avoiding her eyes.

"How long has it been?" she whispered.

"Thirteen years," he told her quietly.

There was a pause for a moment, and she observed him with narrowed eyes. Suddenly she let out a choked laugh, and he looked at her in alarm. She smirked at him half-heartedly.

"You haven't changed. Still haven't outgrown the color black, I see," she said. "I remember when Narcissa tried to get you to wear those hideous burgundy robes."

Severus couldn't hold back a small smile at that memory. "Yes, and then you laughed at my expense for an hour. But then she decided you needed a… makeover… as well."

Bella scowled. "I still haven't forgiven her for that." She tensed suddenly, her eyes wide. "Oh," she breathed. "Narcissa. How is she? And Lucius? And Draco?"

"They are all well. Draco is actually here right now."

She eyed him with sudden intensity. "What is he like?"

"A proper Slytherin," Severus said, smirking. "I would know, seeing since I am his Head of House. He is constantly getting others into trouble, the sneaky child."

"You're the Slytherin Head of House?" she asked, confused.

The smirk slid off his face. "When the Dark Lord fell, I stayed at Hogwarts as the Potions Professor. Later I became the Head of House."

Bellatrix regarded him seriously, but he was surprised when she changed the subject.

"I felt my dark mark burn when he returned, and even those few months before when he was gaining power," she whispered. "I knew he would return for me." She closed her eyes. "His power was even more intoxicating than I remember."

"Yes," the Potions Master murmured in agreement.

"Is he still…" she trailed off, not knowing how to word it.

Severus shifted slightly. "At first. But Bella… Hadrian is alive."

Her eyes snapped open. "Hadrian?" she choked out.

Severus explained it all to her, and as the story progressed she became more and more furious. She was almost spitting out fire when he finished. When she ranted on about Dumbledore, he observed her surreptitiously. With her temper flaring, she was acting a great deal more like the Bellatrix he remembered. He had been afraid that Azkaban had taken away her spirit, but he could tell now that it was still very clearly present.

Abruptly she smiled and her expression softened. "I can't believe he's alive," she said softly. "What is he like?"

Severus leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "He is hurt and confused," he murmured. "It is as if he is constantly at war with himself. One moment he is a foolhardy Gryffindor, and the next moment you know without a doubt he is the Dark Lord's son. He resembles the Dark Lord greatly. It is a bit frightening really."

A brief smile played on her lips at that last bit, but it quickly fell. "He still is suffering from the aftereffects of Dumbledore then?" Bella asked seriously.

"Yes," Severus said softly. "That sort of damage does not just heal over night."

She looked at the wall past him, her demeanor suddenly darkening. Severus eyed her in concern as she gazed unseeingly past him. He thought about changing the subject when her eyes flickered back to him.

"I'm assuming that is why Draco is here now," she stated.

Severus looked at her in surprise, but he nodded. He forgot how perceptive this woman is.

She nodded dazedly. He noticed she was beginning to fade away, and he realized she must be exhausted. Quickly he got to his feet.

"I'm going to leave you to rest. You need it," he said firmly, when it looked like she was about to complain. "Anyways, I need to inform the Dark Lord you are awake."

She nodded, leaning back and closing her eyes slowly.

Severus turned away and was about to leave, but stopped when she called his name.

"It's been a long thirteen years," she whispered, and he could hear the raw emotion in her voice. "I'm glad you were the one here to tell me all of this."

He found himself unable to turn around and face her, even though he very much wanted to scan her face for sincerity.

"As am I," he said softly, before exiting the room in a flourish.

Harry relaxed on his back, staring up at the cloudy sky with a smile on his face. It was nearing winter, and it was starting to get very chilly, but the black-haired boy didn't notice. At the moment, he was hot and sweaty from playing quidditch with the three Slytherin boys. Harry glanced at Draco to his left and Blaise and Theo to his right.

"I am so glad Christmas break is only a month away," Blaise drawled.

"The dragon was the only good thing all year," Theo agreed.

"Too bad it didn't get pretty boy Diggory," Blaise agreed wistfully.

Harry rolled his eyes, but Draco smirked in agreement.

"Even with the Triwizard Tournament going on, everything has been so dull this year," Draco said, sighing.

"I wonder why," Theo added sardonically. "Perhaps it has to do with a certain rival of ours vanishing."

Harry grinned at them. "Aww, didn't know you missed me that much," he said lightly. "I should have sent you a card or something. Or better yet, an autograph addressed to my biggest fans."

Draco snorted loudly. "As long as you don't dye your hair blonde and strut around saying 'Magical Me'," he sneered.

Harry sat up and shook his head in disgust. "Lockhart gives me the creeps," he said. "Honestly, he should be a Death Eater."

"Oh Merlin, no," Draco moaned. "I would quit the ranks and join the order of fried chicken before I fought alongside that idiot."

"But, Draco, you two would have so much to discuss. For example, what hair products you prefer," Blaise said innocently. "Or, perhaps, which color goes best with your eyes."

Harry and Theo collapsed into laughter at Draco's horrified and offended expression. But when the blonde pulled out his wand, they instantly stopped and watched him warily. Harry, oddly having more sense than the two Slytherins at the moment, quickly leaped to his feet and took off on his new broomstick. He circled above them as Draco hexed the other two so they giggled uncontrollably, had bright red hair, and were wearing tutus. In retaliation, Draco ended up sporting gold and maroon spots, a tail, and an "I love Gilderoy Lockhart" badge.

Theo, Blaise, and Draco then spent the remainder of their energy chasing down Harry, who almost fell off his broomstick from laughter. And, much to Harry's amusement, they looked even more hilarious flying. While they sent spells after spells at him, Harry maneuvered with ease. All that practice dodging bludgers really paid off. But after a good twenty minutes, he was beginning to have more difficulty. Harry thought Gryffindors were stubborn, but he was certain that Slytherins were the most stubborn lot of them all. Harry suddenly spotted his father sitting down in the stands after one twist in that direction. He grinned.

"Checkmate," he whispered.

And then he took off straight towards his father.

"You know, Hadrian," his father said later that night, "I don't appreciate being used as a target. If I had known, I would have done paperwork instead."

"Oh, I see," Harry said, grinning. "I am just distraction from paperwork."

"Brat," his father said fondly, smirking. "But even I must admit the look on their faces were priceless. If only their fathers had been there for that crowning moment."

"It could be arranged," Harry said, with a glint in his eye that made even the Dark Lord a little wary.

"I don't know if Lucius would survive," his father told his son, smirking widely. "He has had a few shocks as of late. Although I may be tempted to show him the memory… his son looked striking with that wonderful badge on his chest. Who is to thank for that by the way?"

"Theo," Harry said, smirking.

"Ah yes," the Dark Lord murmured, leaning back in his chair. "I forget how utterly devious that child can be at times. Just like his father. So quick to be underestimated. What a blessing that is."

Harry shook his head. "Please, Theo knows more curses than all the other Slytherins combined from all that reading he does. I know not to piss him off."

His father glanced at him in amusement. "And they accuse you of being a Gryffindor."

"The best Slytherin is the one no one expects," Harry told him cheekily.

The Dark Lord raised his eyebrows. "Indeed."

They sat in silence for a few moments, but Harry snorted loudly after a minute had passed.

"It's a good thing you have good reflexes," Harry noted in amusement. "You really would have killed them if those hexes actually hit you."

His father gave him an innocent look, but Harry only shook his head.

"Sorry Father, but you don't do innocence very well."

The minute Harry realized he had called the man 'father', he froze. He still was afraid of rejection and letting his father in. But when the Dark Lord only smirked casually, Harry relaxed.

"No, I guess not," he mused.

"Sir?"

The Dark Lord held back a sigh at his son reverting back to 'sir'. "Yes?" he asked.

"Is there something going on between Bellatrix and Severus?"

The Dark Lord smiled slightly, amused. "Why would you say that?"

"Well… the professor just seems to care a lot more than normal."

"Don't tell him that," the Dark Lord said lightly, his eyes narrowed. He paused, as if wondering how much to reveal. "I suggest you ask Severus yourself."

Harry frowned. "He won't tell me anything. He is a closed book."

"Apparently not that closed," the Dark Lord murmured thoughtfully, glancing at the rain-stained window.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Hadrian?"

"Will you tell me more about my mum?"

The Dark Lord sighed, but he wasn't surprised by the request. "What would you like to know?"

Harry hesitated, eyeing the lord uncertainly. "What was she like?" he asked quietly.

His father glanced at him before looking back out the window. "She was an enigma from day one," he said softly. "I have never met a woman that was so certain of herself. Most people wouldn't dare to speak their minds around me, nonetheless debate against my opinions. But your mother was fearless. That very first night I met her she started arguing against my position on muggleborns. Sometimes I wonder if she should have been a Gryffindor." He paused, looking at his son thoughtfully. "You remind me of her sometimes."

Harry stared at his father curiously, his eyes wide.

"All Gryffindor on the outside, but Slytherin on the inside," his father explained, smirking. "If you weren't in a library with her, you wouldn't know she was such a Ravenclaw."

Harry grinned at that. "What else was she interested in?" he asked eagerly.

The Dark Lord turned back to stare outside, lost in thought. "She loved to laugh and always saw the good in people even when they didn't deserve it," he mused, and Harry had a feeling he was talking about himself. "She was a Malfoy through and through," his father continued. "She was elegant and sophisticated. But she was still a Malfoy in Ravenclaw, which made her often seem detached from her family. There was always a rebellious streak to her that made her want to be different and independent."

"But did her family care she was in Ravenclaw?" Harry cut in.

"No," his father answered. "To be honest, I think her parents were relieved." He turned to face Harry with a smirk. "I think they were worried she'd end up in Gryffindor, so Ravenclaw was a good compromise."

Harry smiled. "Do you think she could have been a Slytherin?" he asked curiously.

"Like you said, Hadrian, the best Slytherins are those you least expect."

Harry met his father's eyes for a long moment.

"Do you think she would have been… proud of me?" the teenager whispered, tense.

His father's expression softened. "There isn't a doubt in my mind."

When Harry let go of the breath he was holding, his father smirked wickedly.

"After all, you give me as much trouble as she did," he said fondly. "Brat. Now run along, don't you have occlumency with Severus?"

Harry's good mood faded, and he forced a smile. He nodded and left the room, but red eyes watched him leave with sudden interest.

"My Lord?"

The Dark Lord looked up to see his spy standing in the entryway of his study.

"Ah, Severus," the lord murmured, pushing away the document he had been pouring over. "Sit."

The man did so fluidly.

"How is my son doing?"

"There has been progress."

The Dark Lord leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk, deep in thought as he rested his chin on his folded fingers. "How strong is his shield?" he asked.

"He is able to block mild attacks, but beyond that he has experienced… difficulty."

The Dark Lord watched him with an cold mask. "What sort of difficulties?" he asked sharply.

"He has trouble focusing, my lord. He is too concerned about certain memories to stop my attack."

"Have you tried other methods?"

"He has started the redirecting technique," Severus told him quietly. "That proves to be promising."

The Dark Lord leaned back and regarded the Potions Master thoughtfully. "Why the advanced technique?"

"I thought if he could concentrate on a certain memory but morph it, then his focus would improve," the spy explained. "Instead of focusing on all his memories, he now can select them and change them. It is much more suitable for him."

"Interesting," the Dark Lord mused. "I would have thought with him being a Gryffindor he would have a tendency towards brute force… but instead he uses a more Slytherin technique." The red eyes suddenly looked up sharply. "Is there anything I should be concerned about? Hadrian seemed… less than enthused about his lessons earlier."

Severus paused. "He is frustrated with his progress, my lord," the man murmured after a few moments.

"And his memories?"

Obsidian eyes met red seriously. "Dumbledore and the Dursleys have done a great deal on him. I am… concerned that he has bottled it all up," he said carefully.

"And you fear it will unleash at any time?" the Dark Lord guessed.

"Yes, my lord."

The Dark Lord sighed. He turned away to stare out the window. Several minutes of silence passed before he turned back to the motionless and expressionless Severus Snape.

"I will want to see those memories when I return from my travels," the lord finally told the Death Eater.

"My lord?"

The Dark Lord smirked at Severus' surprised reaction. "I have some political matters to deal with. I am leaving tonight. I will most likely return in a few weeks."

"And Hadrian, my lord?"

"He will be staying with Lucius," the Dark Lord said quietly. "And I expect you to watch over Bella as she recovers, as well as continue my son's lessons."

"Of course, my lord."

"Good. You are dismissed, Severus."

The Potions Professor quickly stood and bowed.

"Safe travels, my lord," he murmured before leaving swiftly.

"You're leaving tonight?" Harry repeated his father's words blankly.

"That is what I just said, yes."

Harry's face was unreadable as he processed it. "Why?" he finally asked quietly.

"I am meeting with a few very important people."

"Like who, sir?" Harry asked evenly, his eyes narrowed.

His father's gaze was piercing. "It is none of your concern, Hadrian."

Harry stared at his father in confusion, uncertain why his father was acting so brusque. "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving earlier?"

"I pushed up my plans last minute," his father told him. "Now I'm having the house elves pack up your stuff."

"Why?"

"You will be staying with the Malfoys."

"I see," Harry murmured, looking away.

A hand rested on his shoulder for a moment, but Harry flinched back instantly. When he had regained his composure, his father was already across the room facing the door. Harry hated that he had reacted to his father's touch like that, and he couldn't even see his father's face because his back was to him.

"Study your occlumency hard while I'm gone," his father said softly. "I expect to hear good reports from Lucius and Severus."

The next moment the man was gone, and Harry was staring at the empty space blankly.

Yes, he understood. He understood very clearly.

"Sorry I'm late," the curly-haired brunette huffed, uncharacteristically shoving her book bag to the floor of the unused classroom.

The brown-haired Slytherin observed her with raised eyebrows.

"Ronald," she told him shortly, collapsing in a chair beside him. "He was in an impossible mood. All he wanted to do was argue, and I barely managed to lose him."

The Slytherin smirked. "How did you lose him?"

She shifted uncomfortably, and his smirk widened.

"It was nothing really…"

"Oh?" he asked innocently, now openly grinning.

"I might have accidently… dropped… one of the twin's dung bombs in the boy's dormitory."

He laughed in disbelief. "I really am a bad influence on you, Hermione."

She merely smiled. "I think it was a very Gryffindor thing to do. So if you see yourself as a lion at heart, Theo…"

Theo looked at her in disgust. "Never mind, that." His expression shifted to curiosity. "What were you and Weasel arguing about?"

For once, she didn't feel the need to reprimand him for the nickname.

"He was insulting Harry," she said coldly, her eyes narrowed. "And trying to figure out why he was really gone. Guess he thought the Golden Boy was soaking up too much attention, I suppose."

Theo frowned. "Does that git suspect anything amiss? Or do any of the Gryffindors."

"It has been almost a month," Hermione mused. "Some of them are beginning to question why he is still gone. It's a long time to mourn a relative." Her eyes shifted to Theo. "But he is safe?"

"Yes, Mione," he sighed, shaking his head. "I tell you that every time."

"He is my best friend, you know," she told him bossily, smiling. "But the way you go off on it, it's almost as if you're jealous."

Theo smirked. "Touché." He titled his head to the side and raised his wand. "Now let's see how your shield is holding. Legilimens !"

He pulled out of her mind moments later with a satisfied smile.

"You're really close," he said. "Only a few cracks. I expect in a week or so I'll be able to tell you everything."

She gave him a relieved smile. "Good, not knowing is literally killing me."

"Know-it-all," Theo teased.

"Bossy pants," she retorted playfully.

"Gryffindor princess."

"Is that supposed to be an insult?"

He snorted. "Really?"

She held back a laugh. "Sly, devious, sneaky snake," she whispered in his ear.

"Why thank you, I'm touched."

She shoved him. "That wasn't supposed to be a complement."

He grabbed her arm and leaned in.

"Wasn't it?" he breathed, their faces only inches apart.

He stared at her lips for a long moment, and her breath hitched as she waited. He finally moved so his lips were on hers, and she closed her eyes. It only lasted a few seconds before Theo pulled back, but the dazzling smile from her told him everything he needed.

One thing was for sure: there was no way Theo was telling a certain black-haired Gryffindor about this.

Daphne Greengrass stared at the letter in her hands in disbelief.

She had asked her father to look into Harry's childhood, and what he had found was not pleasant. The Dursleys were not good people, not good people at all.

As she read the details in the letter, she forced back the swell of rage that wanted to break free.

Draco had said it was bad, but reading it now…

Daphne Greengrass quickly burned the letter, her eyes narrowed as she watched it turn to nothing but ashes. She vanished those as well absentmindedly.

The Dursleys mixed with Dumbledore, it was a wonder Hadrian Riddle was still sane. Daphne may be uncertain how she felt about the black-haired enigma, but she did know that he was the Dark Lord's son and she would give her life for him.

She sighed as she looked out the window.

Perhaps she would have to visit Hadrian Riddle. They had more in common than he knew.

Did you like the Hermione/Theo? I think they are so cute, but I AM a bit biased. :)

Next chapter there will be a lot of drama (just warning you now)! The Dark Lord is gone, Harry will go to any measures to prove himself, and Hermione will learn the truth! Throw in Daphne Greengrass and Bellatrix Lestrange, and we have a whole lot of secrets going on!

Stay tuned :) Please review!

Chapter 13

Disclaimer: HP belongs to J.K.R. I am a filthy muggle. Plot is all mine! Mine I tell you!

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, depression, and self-harm! The content may be triggering, please please please do not read if it may be a problem.

"I can walk on my own, Snape," she snapped.

Severus Snape raised his eyebrows at the her, but didn't lessen his grip on her upper arm. She glared at him, but he was one of the few souls that didn't find the notorious Bellatrix Lestrange overwhelmingly intimidating. He was too busy observing her labored breath and tired expression to care that she was giving him her death glare.

"Maybe this wasn't the best idea," he said slowly.

"It's been four days," she hissed. "I am perfectly capable of walking." She narrowed her eyes when he smirked. "By myself," she clarified through gritted teeth.

"If you insist," he sneered, letting go abruptly.

The next moment she was collapsed on the floor, but he had already transfigured cushions so she wouldn't hurt herself.

When she glared up at him indignantly and called him a not-so-nice name, he merely smirked.

"My parents were married when I was born, believe it or not," he corrected. "And you did claim you could handle yourself."

As he helped her up, he couldn't help but find her pouting much more amusing than he probably should.

"Hadrian."

Harry looked up from the book, startled. When he saw the ever-elegant Lucius Malfoy staring at him, he instantly closed the book.

"Yes, sir?"

"You missed lunch."

Harry glanced at his watch in alarm, and was shocked to see lunch had passed an hour previously.

"I'm sorry, sir, I lost track of time," Harry apologized quickly.

"You've been spending a lot of time locked up in this library," the man observed, and Harry swore he heard a hint of concern in his voice. "It's good that you are taking your studies seriously, but this isn't your first missed meal."

Harry hesitated. "I just haven't been hungry, I guess."

Lucius sighed. "I'll have Tibby bring you something."

"Yes, sir."

"Lucius," the lord corrected tiredly.

"Sorry, I forgot," Harry said sheepishly, smiling slightly.

The man gave him a small smile before leaving, and Harry felt immense relief when he was once again left alone.

He turned back to his occlumency text with sudden desperation. He would have to stay up a little bit later tonight to make up for the few minutes of lost time…

"Legilimens."

Harry quickly directed the man to a memory of him with his friends. He tried to manipulate it so the man could only see the happy smiles from his friends, when the memory suddenly shifted.

Ron was arguing with him for not taking his side against Hermione when Scabbers went missing. Ron was insulting him viciously, saying he wasn't even sure why they were friends.

Harry frantically tried to redirect the memory to a meaningless memory, but it only got worse.

Dumbledore was holding him under the cruciatus curse for letting Scabbers get away. The old wizard was furious that Harry had let his weak emotions overtake him and let the enemy escape.

"Stop!" Harry yelled.

Quickly, Severus pulled out of the teenager's mind. Harry refused to meet the man's eyes, not wanting to see his instructor's disappointment.

"Hadrian," Severus said evenly. "You are letting your emotions take over the memories. You have to detach yourself. If you let-"

"I know," Harry cut in sharply, glaring at the man. When Severus gave him a warning look, he forced himself to continue more politely. "I know, sir. Let's go again."

And they did. Over, and over, and over again.

After two hours of failed attempts, Harry was starting to shake in exhaustion and he could barely think due to a pounding migraine. He forced his body to steady.

"Again," he ordered, a steely look in his eyes.

"I think we should be done for tonight," the Potions Master murmured, watching his student with barely concealed alarm. "We don't want to overdo it."

Harry was about to argue, but the man shook his head seriously.

"We will continue in two days." The man surveyed him with narrowed eyes. "Practice. And try to get more sleep."

Harry nodded his head, but he knew very well that he wouldn't be able to sleep anymore. The nightmares had only increased and the pressure was rising.

He had to master this. He had to. It wasn't certain when his father would return, but he had to be prepared. He couldn't disappoint his father. The Dark Lord had made it very clear what was expected.

"Hadrian, you seem distracted."

Harry's eyes flickered up to stare at his godparents. Lucius was regarding him seriously while Narcissa's soft features were filled with worry.

"I apologize," Harry said quietly.

"There is no need to apologize," Narcissa said gently. "We are just concerned."

Harry lowered his gaze. "There is no need to concern yourself," he said calmly. "I am fine, honestly."

"It seems like there has been something on your mind recently…"

"Do you blame me?" Harry said, forcing himself to grin at Lucius. "Finding out your archenemy is really your father is a pretty big deal. It's given me a lot to consider."

"Of course," the blond lord murmured. His grey eyes narrowed. "But are you sure that's all?"

"Positive," Harry said evenly, smiling slightly at his temporary guardians.

Lucius continued to observe him piercingly, but after a few minutes of Harry's calm expression, he relaxed. "Good," he said as he leaned back in his chair. "Now I've been meaning to ask you… Are you interested in being tutored until you are able to join your classmates?"

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. He glanced between the pair uncertainly, biting his lip. "I just need to be working on my occlumency," he finally admitted.

Harry didn't miss the meaningful glance the two shared.

"Hadrian, sweetie, we just don't want you to get behind on your other subjects," Narcissa said carefully. "Occlumency is important, but we are worried you are spending too much time on it."

Harry's face was blank at her words.

"Your father mentioned it to me," Lucius said casually. "I know it is something he wants. He is concerned about how your education is being affected with you being out of Hogwarts."

Emerald eyes turned to stare at him for a long moment. "Very well," Harry said softly.

Lucius looked pleased. "We will have our first lesson tomorrow morning then. 9 o'clock."

Harry nodded and abruptly stood up. "May I be excused?" he asked politely.

When Lucius nodded, Harry turned and quickly left. The lord turned to face his wife, betraying his first show of concern. She touched his forearm gently.

"Something isn't right," he said softly.

"You think Severus was right about how serious this is?"

"I hope not," he murmured, gripping his wife's hand gratefully. "But I've never been an optimist."

" Reducto !"

Lucius ducked under the powerful blast and raised a hand quickly to call for the firing to cease. Harry lowered his wand slowly, panting heavily. Lucius had to admit he wasn't faring much better after the long bout.

"Dumbledore has been training you," Lucius noted evenly.

"Yes, sir."

Lucius observed the teenager, impressed. "Draco mentioned you were good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I've been around a lot longer than you. I didn't expect you to keep up for so long."

"You use much less lethal spells than the Headmaster," Harry said slowly. "Let's just say I learned quickly."

Lucius's hand tightened against his wand, but he forced himself to bury the anger. "I'd say you were talented," he said lightly. "Must have inherited it from your father."

Harry tensed, and Lucius wondered if he had said the wrong thing. But a moment later, the boy smiled softly at him.

"Maybe we should move on to transfiguration for now?"

Harry shrugged, eyeing him curiously, and Lucius smirked.

"I might not be Professor McGonagall, but I do know a thing or two about the subject," the lord said, his eyebrows raised.

"As long as you don't turn into a cat," Harry said, smirking back.

Lucius chuckled, glad to see his godson more relaxed. Perhaps these lessons were working after all.

The Dark Lord stared down at his son with cold eyes.

"Explain yourself," he demanded.

He flinched back. "I wasn't quick enough," he whispered. "Give me more time, I swear I'll master it in-

A hand whipped across his cheek, and Harry barely managed to stay on his feet.

"You're a failure," the lord hissed viciously. "Caroline would have been ashamed. I should have left you in that fire to burn!" He leaned in. "It's your fault she was captured," he whispered silkily in his ear. "It was your fault she died. We would have been able to apparate away if we didn't have to worry about you!"

Harry staggered back, shaking his head. The Dark Lord quickly lashed out at him again, but this time the force sent him flying off his feet. Harry hit his head hard against the wall and stared up at his father with blurred vision. He gripped his bloody head in pain.

"You are nothing!" his father growled. "You deserved everything the Dursleys and Dumbledore gave you."

Harry closed his eyes, gasping.

" Crucio !"

He woke with a start, barely stopping the bloodcurdling scream. He tried to slow his racing heart, but all he could think of was his father's cold eyes.

His father hated him. He was a failure, a freak . He wasn't worth anything. He should be dead. He needed to be punished for his shortcomings.

The next thing he knew, he was sending a cutting curse at his arm.

He stared at all the blood, gasping. He closed his eyes as the pain overcame him, washing away all other emotions. All he knew was the pain, the wonderful pain, the amazing pain…

Nothing else mattered.

When the room started spinning, Harry reluctantly casted a healing spell.

But he didn't get anymore sleep that night. Instead, he stared longingly at his healed but still bloody arm.

The next morning Harry couldn't concentrate. Lucius was irritated that he wasn't picking up the material quickly like he had been all week. They had only been dueling for a few minutes before Lucius impatiently told him to go work on his theory for the rest of the allotted tutoring time.

Harry did so, but the words in the textbook meant nothing. All he could think of was the release from the cutting curse…

Quickly, he directed his wand at the same arm as the night before.

He didn't cry out at the pain this time, but instead smiled grimly. He observed the gash in his arm with fascination.

Deep inside, he knew this was wrong. He knew that this was Dumbledore's doing and it was unhealthy. But he didn't care.

He needed this. He deserved to be punished for his failures.

It wasn't until the next afternoon that Harry realized he would have to somehow hide this from Severus. This only strengthened his need to learn occlumency, and his frustration that he hadn't already.

When the lesson was only minutes away, Harry was a nervous wreck. He couldn't stop pacing, and every five minutes he had to resist the urge to slice his arm open again.

As he walked to the study, he wondered if he should pretend he was sick. He forced that thought out of his mind. He would not be a coward. And it would only increase Severus' attentions. No, he could hide it all from the Slytherin Head of House. He had to!

His arm was shaking when he knocked on the door of the study. He entered expecting to see the Potions Master, but was shocked to see Lucius instead.

"Hello, Hadrian," the man said smoothly. "Bellatrix has a mild fever, and Severus didn't want to leave her. He asked me to continue the lesson tonight."

Harry nodded unsteadily, unable to meet the man's eyes as he sat down. "I didn't know you were a legilimens, sir," Harry said quietly, forcing him voice to stay even.

Lucius smirked slightly. "It's more beneficial when it's not common knowledge. And Severus is much more experienced than I."

Harry nodded, his eyes still lowered.

It was quiet for a moment, then Lucius suddenly was kneeling in front of his godson. "Hadrian," he said quietly. "I understand if you are still uncomfortable around me. But I promise that you have my full confidence. I will never disclose anything I see in this session."

Harry could only nod jerkily. Lucius stood back up and sat back down in his chair. Harry let out a silent breath of relief at the distance.

"Prepare yourself!" The blond lord announced.

Harry met his eyes slowly, forcing his mind to go blank. He just had to think of one memory, one memory that would erase all other emotions.

"Legilimens!"

Harry concentrated on flying. The chill of the breeze, the inner peace, the quiet of the empty stadium…

He felt the probing of the memory, but Harry didn't waver. He thought of how natural it felt to be in the air, how easy it was, how simple… No worries, no concerns. This was all him.

The next minute, Lucius withdrew with a pleased grin. Harry shakily returned it, shocked.

"Did I just…" he gasped.

"Excellent job, Hadrian," his godfather confirmed. "You successfully blocked me out. The quidditch memory was very effective. Now let's try again. This time I'm going to do a full-fledged attack."

Harry felt a wave of doubt, but tried to stay calm. Severus had never done a full-fledged attack before, and this time could have been a fluke. What if he-

" Legilimens !"

He was flying, but there was a hard pressure in his mind. The image buckled for a moment, but Harry managed to hold it. He was flying… it was peaceful… the sun was shining… he went for a dive and his adrenaline was pumping.

And then, the very memory he was trying to bury appeared.

He was casting the cutting curse on his arm. He was lost in the adrenaline rush… he was closing his eyes in pleasure… he was starting to become drowsy from the blood loss, but it didn't matter. He couldn't remember what he was upset about; all he knew was that his arm was searing in pain. He opened his eyes again and watched the blood trail down his arm. He smiled.

Lucius withdrew from his mind suddenly, and Harry didn't dare look up from his position on the floor. He was horrified as he waited for the man to explode.

When Lucius grabbed his arm, Harry flinched back wildly. He got to his feet, avoiding the man's gaze, and fighting the urge to run.

His godfather knew. He knew how weak he was. He knew what a freak he was.

Harry started to hyperventilate and barely managed to compose himself. When Lucius took his arm lightly, Harry flinched again but didn't pull away. He stared numbly at Lucius as he pulled up the sleeve of his robe.

His arm was littered with scars, all of which were crisscrossing randomly. Lucius dropped the arm slowly, and Harry backed away instantly.

"Hadrian."

Harry only shook his head.

"Hadrian."

"It's nothing," Harry whispered.

"Hadrian, look at me."

The raw anguish made it too hard for Harry to bear. He slowly raised his eyes, and was shocked to see the terrible pain on his godfather's face.

"Why?" he whispered. "Why would you hurt yourself?"

Harry swallowed, shaking his head rapidly. "I wasn't learning occlumency fast enough," he choked out. "I needed to be punished. My father would have wanted it. I am a disgrace-"

"Don't ever say that," Lucius cut in viciously, but he attempted to compose himself when Harry flinched back at his furious tone. "Your father would always be proud of you. If anything, he would be disappointed that you thought he would want you to hurt yourself."

The Gryffindor shook his head desperately. "Why would he want me if I'm nothing? I'm the reason his wife is dead, he has every right-"

" What? "

Harry winced at the man's dangerous tone. He hesitated, trembling. "She-she wouldn't leave me when the Order attacked. And so she got captured and-"

"You were a baby," Lucius interrupted in disbelief. "You couldn't have done anything. It wasn't your fault. If anything it was my fault, or your father's fault, or the Death Eater who revealed our location. But at the end of the day, it was Dumbledore who killed her." He took a step closer to Harry, regarding him seriously. "You are not to blame."

Harry fought back tears. "Would she have died if I lived?"

"You meant the world to Caroline," Lucius hissed. "Don't you dare betray my sister's memory by claiming anything otherwise. She would have gladly died even to have that short year with you."

Harry gasped, overcome with emotion. He wanted to believe his godfather more than anything, but he knew that he would always be below the expectations. She would be ashamed to see how easily he succumbed to muggles and her murderer. And he couldn't even master occlumency.

"Hadrian, your father cares deeply about you," Lucius said softly, moving closer to his charge so they were only an arms-lengths away. "And he doesn't expect you to master occlumency over night. It is an extremely difficult art to master, especially when you have had such a terrible past. He would be proud of you no matter what. As your godparents, Narcissa and I feel the same."

Lucius embraced Harry at the end of his words, and the teenager tried to push him away. But after a few minutes, he finally stopped fighting.

Harry didn't know why Lucius was so accepting of him. The man should be furious at him, just like he knew the Dark Lord was going to be.

After a few more minutes of silent comfort, the lord withdrew.

"Why don't we sit down," he said quietly. "I have a feeling this conversation will take some time."

Harry hesitantly nodded, avoiding the man's gaze as he unsteadily fell into a nearby chair.

"Hadrian," the man said quietly, reaching out to grab his hands.

Harry forced himself not to move under the man's grip.

"Hadrian, look at me."

Slowly, emerald eyes rose and Lucius frowned at the fear and frustration in them.

"Explain to me what has been going through your head," Lucius said softly.

Harry shook his head. He felt like a million different things and emotions were crushing him. It was like he was suffocating under all the pressure. He felt like he was being measured against all these expectations and he was falling short again and again. And, most of all, he was immensely ashamed for disappointing his godfather and for being a freak.

"Hadrian, I will not judge you," Lucius murmured, squeezing his hands gently. "I promise you can trust me."

Harry slowly reigned in his emotions and took a deep breath. "I thought that was why my father left," he said softly, his head bowed. "It is, isn't it? He was angry at me after hearing about my progress from Professor Snape. He couldn't stand being here with me anymore. So he left, but he gave me the deadline to master occlumency." Harry's expression hardened. "He gave me one last chance, but I'm blowing it! He will disown me when he gets back. Or, just like the Headmaster, he'll realize that he needs to be stricter in his discipline. It is only a matter of time before he starts torturing me, just like everyone else in my life." Harry stopped abruptly. Horrified that he revealed so much, he ripped his hands away from his godfather.

Lucius had listened to the entire speech in both disbelief and anger. How could they have let Hadrian think this? How had they not noticed? Was this just insecurities from his past or was it because of what was happening now? At the last part about being tortured from his father, Lucius stiffened.

"Do you truly believe that?" Lucius whispered, unable to keep his strong emotions out of his voice.

Harry's head snapped up.

"Hadrian, your father would never, ever entertain the thought of punishing you physically," Lucius said desperately. "He was furious when he heard of what Dumbledore and the Dursleys had done." When Harry tried to turn away, the blond lord quickly grasped his forearms. "He had to leave on such short notice because an important alliance suddenly accelerated, not because of you. If anything, he was reluctant to leave you after only just finding you. He made me swear an unbreakable vow to protect you even if I had to sacrifice my own life for it."

Disbelief flashed through Harry. When Lucius noticed how his godson stilled, he continued quickly.

"He would never be ashamed of you, Hadrian." When Harry started to protest, the man cut him off firmly. "You are a brave and strong young man for enduring through all those trials in your life. You have suffered more than any person I have met, and yet you are more forgiving and caring than it seems capable for a single person. Never would your father be ashamed of you." Lucius' voice suddenly lowered dangerously. "And if he ever was, I would be the first to put him in his place."

Harry was shaking with raw emotion at the end, barely fighting back tears. He shook his head repeatedly. When Lucius embraced him tightly once again, Harry couldn't fight back the tears any longer.

"He's going to hate me," Harry gasped through the tears. "He-he will hate me when he finds out about-about… my scars."

"That would only make him a hypocrite," Lucius told him quietly.

Harry froze, but his mind raced at those words. "He-he…" the words wouldn't come out.

"Not exactly. It's something he will want to tell you himself," Lucius said softly, slowly pulling away from his charge but not letting go of him. "But you will find that he will be much more understanding than you'd think."

Harry only stared at him numbly, shocked by the overload of emotion and information.

"Hadrian, promise me the next time you feel the urge to harm yourself you will come to me, or Narcissa, or Severus, or even any of your friends first," Lucius said seriously, looking Harry directly in the eyes. "Promise me."

Harry swallowed, nodding his head. "I promise," he whispered.

Lucius smiled slightly and nodded.

"Good," he murmured. "Now let's get you to bed, you look exhausted."

For once, Harry didn't offer any complaints as he was led to his room. He had a warm feeling in his stomach at the thought that his godfather cared.

But part of him was still very much afraid of his father. And when he fell asleep under Lucius' watchful eye, he was unable to put up the usual silencing spells.

His resulting scream hours later were enough to wake the dead, nonetheless the sleeping man on the nearby armchair. Lucius was by his side moments later, staring at the flailing and screaming young man with rising alarm.

How long had his godson been having nightmares? Lucius had thought the occlumency training had ended that. The Dark Lord hadn't mentioned any nightmares…

A silencing spell, he realized with a frown. Had Severus not told the Dark Lord about the events leading up the nightmare a couple weeks ago? Had Hadrian been using silencing spells that long without being detected?

Pushing his thoughts away for another time, Lucius quickly shook Harry's shoulder.

"Hadrian!" he exclaimed. "Hadrian, wake up!"

Emerald eyes snapped open, and in the next instant the black-haired teenager was across the room. Harry raised his wand threateningly as he huddled in the corner.

Lucius raised his hands in a calming motion.

"Hadrian, it's me," he said quietly. "Lucius. I won't harm you."

Recognition flickered on Harry's face, and Lucius slowly walked over to his godson. The blond lord extended a hand and slowly guided Harry's wand down.

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured, sounding a bit apprehensive, but Lucius couldn't read his expression clearly.

"It's fine, Hadrian," Lucius said comfortingly. "Do you want to talk about it?" When he saw that the young man was about to protest, he quickly added, "the only way to get over your past is to talk about it. It will help, trust me."

Harry hesitated, but then slowly nodded. Harry walked over to the bed with Lucius' hand lightly resting on his back. For once, Harry appreciated the contact. It was reassuring.

Harry was nervous with the lord staring at him, waiting for him to begin. But Lucius already saw how weak he was, what could make it any worse? And he found the instant he started to speak, everything came out easily.

"The Dark Lord was killing everyone," Harry whispered. "He was slaughtering everyone. Innocent people, students, even… even children. And Dumbledore came out, covered in blood, and he screamed at me while pointing to my dead classmates." He closed his eyes, a lump in his throat. "The Headmaster said, 'look at what you've done. This is because you weren't strong enough.' And then I-I sent a curse at the Dark Lord and I killed him."

Green eyes stared at him unseeingly, and Lucius suddenly got the impression of a hardened war prisoner.

"Your father would never-"

"I know," Harry said desperately. "It was stupid. I just… it seemed so real." He closed his eyes wearily.

A hand rested on his shoulder lightly, and Harry managed to stay motionless. "You are one of the strongest people I've ever met," Lucius murmured, and Harry looked at him in shock. "And Dumbledore will have no control over you if you don't let him. Hadrian, you only need to have the will to resist and you will be able to."

Harry nodded slowly, blinking in exhaustion.

"Instead of training tomorrow morning, I want us to discuss all the nightmares you have been having and any concerns or doubts you have," Lucius said softly. "Especially about your father."

Harry winced, but he was too tired to argue.

" Accio Dreamless Sleep," Lucius said, waving his wand.

In the next instant, there was a small vial in his hand. He handed it to Harry carefully.

"For now, take this," Lucius said softly. "I apologize for not thinking to give it to you earlier."

"It's fine, sir," Harry whispered.

"It is my duty to take care of you, Hadrian," Lucius told him firmly. "I have done a very poor job of it. If your father cursed me to oblivion, I would not blame him in the slightest."

Harry shook his head emphatically, feeling guilty. "I don't want my father to get angry at you because of me."

A soft smile came over the lord's hard features. It amazed him the capacity the young man had to care for others. "Hush, Hadrian," he said softly. "Your concern is appreciated, but unwarranted. There is no reason to feel guilty. For now, just worry about getting a good night's sleep." Lucius motioned to the vial in his ward's hand.

Harry sighed and slowly took the potion. Moments later blissful darkness overcame him.

While Harry was asleep, Lucius hastily wrote a letter he knew would not be kindly received. He reread it quickly, his eyes scanning the sheet.

My lord,

It is imperative that you return as soon as possible. Something has come up. Hadrian believes that you left because you are ashamed of him and he has taken desperate measures to master occlumency in hopes to earn back your acceptance.

It came to my attention earlier today that he has turned to self-harm to punish himself for his failures in not becoming an occlumency master overnight. He made great progress in his lesson today in his attempts to hide the self-harm from me.

I am afraid my reassurances will do nothing to persuade him. He needs to hear it from you.

I will not leave his side until your arrival.

-Lucius

"Take this to the Dark Lord," Lucius ordered his owl by the window. "And hurry!"

The black owl gave him a dignified sniff before taking off dramatically.

Lucius stared out into the dark night, praying the Dark Lord would be quick to return. His son needed him.

Well I think I updated rather quickly. It should be even better with my finals coming up and school will be done for a while!

Well… I didn't get to the Dark Lord and Daphne in this chapter. The Harry/Lucius took up more than I anticipated. You must then be left in suspense for another chapter. The Dark Lord will for sure be in the next one!

Harry still has some issues, but he is also very talented as the lessons with Lucius were supposed to show. Soon he will overcome the bulk of his insecurities and he will become a true prince.

Thank you for your wonderful support! Please review and happy reading! :)

Chapter 14

Well, I guess I should apologize for the ridiculously long wait. I have been overwhelmingly busy, and I'm afraid this had to be postponed. Plus, I wanted this chapter to be perfect. Sadly, it isn't my best work but it certainly could have been worse. Anyways, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own, belongs to J.K.R., do not sue me please, plot idea belongs to me!

Warnings: References of cutting, abuse

"Lord Slytherin."

The Dark Lord bowed his head slightly to the stout, brown-haired man who was eyeing him casually. This made the Dark Lord grudgingly respect him. His reputation, after all, left most people quivering in his presence, even if they are ministers.

"Minister Obolensky, I thank you for your hospitality," the Dark Lord greeted flawlessly in Bulgarian.

The minister raised his eyebrows, impressed, and bowed his head back. "You're most welcome," he responded in English, and the Dark Lord noticed that the heavy accent he had supposedly had during the World Cup was practically gone. "Are you well-versed in Bulgarian?" the minister added.

The Dark Lord inclined his head. "I have spent some time studying in Bulgaria."

The Minister looked curious, but didn't push the issue. He did appreciate, however, that a powerful wizard such as Lord Voldemort took the time to learn his nation's tongue. "Please, sit, and have some tea," he said, more sincere than he normally was in these situations.

As if on cue, a pair of house elves appeared and placed a silver tray with tea and pastries on the huge oak table. They vanished seconds later, and the Dark Lord took the offered seat elegantly. The Minister sat across from slowly.

"I had heard rumors of your return," the Minister said quietly. "Although your ministry still seems to be denying it, I have contacts who confirmed it. But I must say I didn't expect you to request a meeting with me." The Bulgarian titled his head slightly to the right, his eyes narrowed. "I am guessing you didn't imagine I'd respond so quickly, either."

"No," the Dark Lord said softly, amber eyes observing the brown-haired man piercingly. "It was unexpected, indeed."

The Bulgarian smiled slightly and busied himself by stirring his tea. "It's not every day you surprise a Dark Lord." His eyes flickered back up warily, all trace of humor absent. "Before we are to continue, I must request you swear an oath to not wage war on my nation, no matter my decision."

The Dark Lord smirked. "I can see why Lucius insisted I meet with you," he answered calmly. "I, Lord Slytherin, do swear on my magic to not attack Bulgaria, no matter Lord Obolensky's decision, unless Bulgaria initiates the war first. So mote it be."

There was a flash of white, and the slight tension on the Minister's face faded in relief.

"Now, Minister, I request a similar vow."

The Minister stiffened. He knew there had to have been a catch to the Dark Lord's cooperation.

"It's merely a precaution, as you understand," the Dark Lord murmured. "For our conversation to go any further, you must swear to never divulge any of the information we discuss, unless I give you permission. Even if you choose to not accept my offer, I need assurance that you can be trusted."

The minister nodded slowly. "I, Lord Obolensky, do swear on my magic to not willingly reveal anything that is spoken today from Lord Slytherin, unless given the authority to do so. So mote it be."

When there was another flare of white light, the Dark Lord nodded. It was quiet for a few moments, and then the Bulgarian grinned slightly.

"So, Lord Malfoy referred me? To what do I owe that honor?"

The Dark Lord observed him in amusement. "He was quite pleased when you embarrassed Minister Fudge at the World Tournament. I must admit, I would have actually been interested in quidditch for once if I was able to see your ploy myself."

Lord Obolensky smirked in satisfaction. "He looked like a buffoon. Honestly, I do not understand how that man was ever voted into office." He raised an eyebrow. "I am guessing you are looking to change that?"

The Dark Lord inclined his head, appreciating how perceptive the man was. He would make a good ally.

"The British Ministry is obviously falling. Old traditions are dying, ancient creatures are being mistreated, and our education system is leaving the upcoming generation with next to nothing. Politicians like Fudge are bowing down to men like Albus Dumbledore, who wishes for us to become accepted by muggles." The Dark Lord's countenance darkened visibly. "Muggles are rapidly expanding their technology, and if there was any hint of the existence of the Wizarding World, they would annihilate us. Already, muggle-born children are abused and belittled for possessing magic. Dumbledore has convinced Britain that I am trying to slaughter muggles because I have fought against his agenda. That is not the case. I wish only for us to continue to be invisible to them, to live separately without danger to our society."

The Bulgarian Minister eyed him with interest. "Do you seek to overthrow the government then?"

"Yes," the Dark Lord stated bluntly. "We need a leader who will not allow our culture to die and our people to suffer. We will be destroyed within the decade at this rate."

"Have you ever been around muggles, Lord Slytherin?" the Minister asked quietly. "Do you truly think it would come to that?"

The Dark Lord's face was a cool mask, and he forced himself to bury his rage. Thinking rapidly, he decided he had no choice but to be honest if he were to gain the man's attention. "I was raised in a muggle orphanage," he said coldly. "I didn't know, of course, what my accidental magic was. I was hated and feared, and I learned very quickly how to protect and heal myself with my magic. One of the orphanage workers even attempted to kill me, after she unsuccessfully tried to beat the demon out of me. I was only seven. I know of several other cases that are similar to my situation."

Lord Obelensky looked deep in thought, visibly shocked by that revelation. "You do not wish to kill muggles?" he finally asked. "Even after all they have done to you personally?"

The Dark Lord met his brown eyes directly. "I, Lord Slytherin, do swear on my magic that what I said previously and will say in the future within our meeting this day is the truth. So mote it be."

After the flash of white, the Dark Lord quickly continued. "I wanted to enact my revenge when I was younger, and I was blinded. Now, I accept the fact that muggles are necessary for our survival, and… not all of them are entirely terrible," he added reluctantly. "I have come to feel nothing for them as a whole."

The brown-haired lord accepted that with a nod.

"I see you are speaking the truth." The Bulgarian hesitated briefly. "Then what do you wish of me… and my nation?"

"You are an ally of the British Wizarding World," the Dark Lord told him smoothly. "And I understand that when we are weak, your own nation suffers. Other nations are suggesting now is the time to take advantage of the weakened alliance between many of us European countries. China and Russia, for example, are being particularly active as of late."

The Bulgarian Minister nodded slowly.

"I only ask that when our nation goes into a civil war, that you do not intervene," the Dark Lord stated calmly, pausing to take a sip of his tea. "When Minister Fudge requests help from his allies, I ask that you refuse him."

"This could forever damage our alliance, leaving us without our own support," Obolensky said seriously. "And the other nations in our alliance may take offense as well. The other nations may attack us for betraying our agreement."

"Minister, if I do not intervene soon, this may happen anyways. Britain has become weak and the other nations know it." A cunning gleam was now in his amber-red eyes. "Nowhere in your agreement did you swear to help defend the British Wizarding World from themselves. There may be some complaints, but you are within your rights to opt out of it."

The Bulgarian nodded thoughtfully, but he frowned slightly. "In the end, I must defend my own nation first. Nations like France will not take kindly to our refusal to help."

The Dark Lord inclined his head, accepting the man's self-preservation gracefully. He was about to address the man's misgivings when an owl suddenly pecked on the nearby window. Both men observed it curiously. The Minister stood and let it in, but it bypassed him and flew straight to the Dark Lord. It was then that the black-haired lord recognized the dark owl as Lucius'.

He took the offered letter gracefully, but his grip tightened dangerously as he read. He looked up sharply when he finished it, his red eyes narrowed.

"I am afraid I must leave, Lord Obolensky," the Dark Lord said curtly. "Something of vital importance has come up."

The minster observed him coolly. "Something more important that Bulgaria's alliance, I take it," he answered just as harshly, not appreciating the abrupt change of events or the tone.

The Dark Lord stiffened, his red eyes suddenly piercing. He recognized the danger of offending the man.

"You have a child, Lord Obolensky, do you not?" he asked quietly.

The man nodded slowly, now wary.

"Now tell me, is Bulgaria more important than that child?"

Stunned realization came over the minster, and his eyes widened. Quickly, he shook his head.

"Then you will understand if I feel the same."

Without another word, the Dark Lord was gone, leaving an astounded Bulgarian Minister of Magic in his wake.

"You made her swear an unbreakable vow, right? And she is proficient enough in occlumency?"

Theodore Nott glared at the tense Malfoy heir. "As I told you before, yes," he said through gritted teeth. "Now if you are done insulting the integrity of my girlfriend, may we proceed?"

The said girlfriend, Hermione Granger, eyed the surrounding Slytherins with a mixture of anxiety and frustration.

Draco released his breath loudly and, after another long minute of silence, gave a slow nod.

"What is this about?" Hermione finally snapped, nervous about all the secrecy and serious expressions.

It didn't escape her notice that Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini were anxiously looking around, despite the fact that they were in the Slytherin boy's fourth year dormitory with multiple locking spells, wards, and silencing spells surrounding the area. She also noticed that Daphne Greengrass was staring her down threateningly, wand drawn as if ready to throw multiple obliviates and other, most likely, painful curses.

"I, Theodore Nott, do swear on my magic that what I am about to tell one Hermione Jean Granger is the truth. So mote it be."

Hermione watched the flash of white in grim astonishment, and when the other Slytherins did the same her mind was reeling.

"Was that really necessary?" she asked softly.

When he only nodded, avoiding her eyes, she gripped his forearm tightly. He looked up, meeting her gaze reluctantly.

"Theodore, where is Harry?"

He took a deep breath, straightening with a hard glint in his eye. "Have you ever noticed anything… off about Harry?"

She bit her lip. "Sometimes…" she trailed off, her eyes fixated on her hands."There were times where he was just… different."

When no one spoke up, Hermione continued hesitantly.

"Often, he would stare off into space, as if he was lost in another world. Other times, he had this… hardness about him. Something I've only seen in pictures of… war victims."

When she looked up, she noticed the Slytherins were watching her intently.

"Did you ever confront him? Ask him about it?" Daphne cut in sharply.

Hermione sighed and nodded. "It almost always got us into an argument," she admitted. "He would insist nothing was wrong, and he hated when I would push the issue or try to learn more behind his back. I-after awhile I stopped asking," she whispered, fighting back tears. "He was getting worse, more and more emotionless and hardened… but I was afraid… I was afraid I'd lose him as a friend. He just reacted so… so violently. And I knew that whatever he was going through it… it would be better if he had a friend on his side rather than another nosy person."

She felt like a coward for admitting that, but Theo gripped her hand gently.

"Hermione, we aren't judging you," he said softly.

She noticed the cold stares from the other Slytherins and grimaced.

"We have no right to judge her," Theo added darkly, glaring at the other Slytherins, who looked away at that challenge.

"But you know what is wrong with him," Hermione whispered. "Theo, where is Harry?"

When Theo paused for a long moment, Draco stepped in harshly.

"Harry was being tortured by the so-called leader of the light, Headmaster Dumbledore . We found him after one session, bleeding to death, and took him to Severus. Severus healed his wounds and took him to my manor to escape Dumbledore."

Draco stopped abruptly at the death glare from Theo.

Hermione listened in horror. "No," she whispered. "That can't be true." She turned to her boyfriend, who was eyeing her sadly. "Theo?" she managed to choke out.

"It's true, Hermione," he said as calmly as he could muster. "Dumbledore was torturing him and raising him to kill or be killed by the Dark Lord."

Tears gathered in Hermione's eyes. "Why-why would Dumbledore do that?" she gasped.

"Because he isn't really Harry Potter," Daphne said quietly, and Hermione's gaze snapped up to look at her in shock. "He is Hadrian Riddle, son of Caroline Malfoy-Riddle and Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord."

It was silent for an agonizing space of time, and Hermione was completely still. After a minute of Theo shaking her arm lightly, she finally came to her senses.

"Harry is the son of… Lord Voldemort?" she stated calmly, certain she had misheard them.

The Slytherins eyed her cautiously, confused at her calm expression. When they nodded, the calm facade shattered.

"You can't be serious," she hissed, her eyes blazing. "That-that monster killed his parents! He tried to kill us twice already! And he would probably kill me in a heartbeat!"

"Granger, we swore on our magic," Pansy said seriously. "We aren't lying to you. The Dark Lord is not what Dumbledore makes him out to be. And Hadrian is the Dark Lord's biological son."

At Hermione's disbelieving expression, Pansy launched into a brief history of the Dark Lord and his policies and beliefs. At the end, the Gryffindor was looking pensive.

"How did… Hadrian… become a Potter then if he is truly… the Dark Lord's son ?" Hermione asked carefully.

Draco explained the Order attack on the manor, after the location of the headquarters was betrayed, and how the Dark Lord came to the Potters for revenge for killing his son and wife. He finished by mentioning how Harry had found out through a bloodline potion.

Hermione stared unseeingly into space at the end of his monologue.

"Hermione?" Theo asked tentatively.

Her eyes flickered to him then back to the opposite wall. "I… I just can't imagine the Dark Lord being…" she trailed off, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Human?" Blaise supplied, speaking up for the first time.

Hermione turned to face him, startled. She had almost forgotten the Italian boy was there. He smirked at her for a split second, as if he recognized that. Quickly, his expression was once again a blank mask.

"It took me awhile to understand that concept as well," Blaise said smoothly. "After all, I am the only one here without a parent in the inner circle. My parents are sympathizers, but never were Death Eaters. But, when I spent time with Hadrian at the manor… I saw how his father was around him… how he watched Hadrian with this protective aura when he thought no one was looking… he is most definitely not a heartless monster."

The Gryffindor took in his words and nodded her head slowly. "I need to see Harry - or Hadrian I guess - in person. And the Dark Lord," she added evenly.

The Slytherins blinked at her bravery, but nodded.

"I will set something up," Draco agreed.

Hermione nodded absentmindedly. "Now if you don't mind," she said quietly, "I am going to head to my dormitory. I have a lot to think about."

"Sleep well, Hermione," Theo whispered, eyeing her in concern.

She merely blinked at him, and the Slytherins warily watched her leave the dormitory.

"You think she will accept the truth?" Pansy asked softly.

Draco gave her a sideways glance, his grey eyes grim."For her sake… and Hadrian's… she better."

Harry sat motionlessly on his bed, not knowing how to feel about Narcissa fussing all around him.

"Are you certain you are not hungry, dear?" Narcissa asked softly, smoothing his hair softly.

For once, Harry didn't jump away from the contact.

"No, Narcissa," he said softly. "I am fine."

She eyed him sadly. "I know Lucius tried to talk to you." When he opened his mouth to cut her off, she gently continued. "I am not forcing you to talk to me either. I only wanted you to know that Lucius and I care a great deal about you. And so does your father."

Harry lowered his eyes and flinched slightly when she titled his head up gently with her fingers. Gently, she stroked his face. Harry found himself leaning in to the touch, but pulled away just as quickly.

"He will be so furious," Harry breathed, closing his eyes momentarily. They snapped back open with new ferocity. "And I don't blame him. He should hate me."

"Hadrian," Narcissa cut in seriously. "He doesn't hate you."

He looked away when he noticed the deep concern on her face. "He is the Dark Lord. He should not have to deal with such a… weak son."

Harry looked down at his arm when he uttered the last words. Narcissa reached out and grabbed the scarred arm.

"This makes you who you are," she whispered. "The trials, the pains, the sufferings… they made you who you are. They are not your weakness. Hadrian, look at me."

Harry forced himself to meet her kind, blue eyes that were suddenly sharpened with intensity.

"They are a strength, Hadrian," she murmured. "Everyone is born with power, but not everyone can wield it. The Dark Lord experienced great pain in his youth as well. But Hadrian… his hardships, his ordeals… they gave him power. Rising above those gave him the strength that no man is born with. You have that similar strength, Hadrian."

When he opened his mouth to protest, she cut in again.

"Lucius was so proud of you this last week. He was amazed by your magical capacities, and how quickly you mastered spells and techniques." Narcissa's squeezed his arm gently. "And he mentioned how you have progressed a great deal in occlumency, even if you think otherwise."

Harry shook his head. He opened his mouth to argue, when he suddenly doubled over with a hand clutching his forehead tightly.

"Hadrian?" Narcissa murmured. Her face was drawn down in worry as she hesitantly touched his back.

"He's here," Harry gasped. The anger was overwhelming, and Harry stiffened in both pain and fear. He forced himself to straighten, and he ignored Narcissa's worry.

He was going to face what he deserved.

And so he waited.

"Where is he?"

Lucius looked up from his desk to meet a pair of red eyes apprehensively. The Dark Lord observed him coolly, his aura flaring around him.

"With Narcissa," Lucius said quietly. "He wasn't revealing much of anything this morning, so I thought it would be best for some of her mothering."

"In the letter you said he was hurting himself," the Dark Lord said in low tones. "How could you have not noticed?"

Lucius bowed his head slightly. "I'm afraid his time with Dumbledore made him well-practiced in the art of deception," the blond lord said. "But I still should have noticed the signs. I deserve your anger, my lord."

Red eyes narrowed dangerously, and for a brief moment Lucius remained tense, but the Dark Lord merely turned away.

"Take me to him," he commanded.

When his father walked in, Harry was in full shutdown mode. His face was blank, his body was still, and his emotions were locked down tight. He forced himself to meet the unflinching red gaze, but the Dark Lord's face revealed nothing.

"Leave us," the lord ordered in a crisp, deliberate voice.

Narcissa bowed her head slightly to him, gave Harry one last reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, and left. The tension in the room doubled in her absence.

The Dark Lord motioned to the nearby chairs by Harry's fireplace, and Harry barely noticed his stiff muscles move to oblige. He stood by one of his chairs and waited for permission.

"Sit," his father stated impatiently.

When the lord sat in the one opposite him gracefully, Harry followed suit and lowered himself hastily.

A moment later, the Dark Lord extended his wand. Harry's muscles tensed but he only waited in acceptance, which did not go unnoticed by his father. To his astonishment, the lord only turned the wand to the fireplace.

A moment later, a fire was raging. Despite the new warmth, all Harry felt was coldness as the red eyes regarded him.

"Lucius said he healed you."

Harry swallowed and nodded jerkily, looking down.

"May I see?"

The Gryffindor's head shot up. His father eyed him calmly, but Harry recognized that he had no choice in the matter. Slowly, he extended his left arm. Cold hands gripped it, and one of the man's long fingers trailed over the scars.

"Did it make you feel in control?" he whispered. "Did it take away the pain?"

Harry felt a chill run up his spine, and he wished he could pull his arm away.

"Well?" his father demanded.

Emerald eyes flickered from his scarred arm to the wizard holding it. When it was obvious that Harry was not going to answer, the lord's grip tightened and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I will take whatever punishment you see fit, my lord," Harry suddenly whispered. "I understand that I failed you. I deserve to be punished severely."

His father's face visibly darkened.

"What, pray tell, gave you the impression that I wanted you to harm yourself for not mastering one of the most demanding arts in a matter of a few weeks?" he hissed. "When I, the most powerful wizard in the world, took three months to fully excel in the art? And, even if I did believe it was possible for you in such a short time, I can't even imagine why you would even consider in that idiotic Gryffindor brain of yours that I'd want you to physically punish yourself."

The power flaring off the man was now truly intimidating, and it took all of Harry's training to remain emotionless. By now his father's grip was painfully tight. As if realizing the same thing, the Dark Lord dropped his arm abruptly, and Harry subconsciously began rubbing it.

"Why did you leave then?" Harry demanded. "I know it was because you were angry at me for being such a failure! You-you're ashamed to have someone so-so weak as a son!"

The Dark Lord went still for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the fire. Slowly, he turned his face back, but it was no longer a cold mask. A glimmer of something Harry couldn't decipher was in the red gaze.

"You were abused all your life. You were tortured repeatedly by the headmaster of your school, and you were brainwashed daily to hate your own father. You were trained to hurt yourself for the slightest show of weakness, and you believed you deserved it. Your true identity was kept from you all your life." The Dark Lord leaned forward. "You call this weakness. And perhaps if you let it control you, it is. But you are my son Hadrian Marvolo Riddle, and I will never be ashamed of you. I will train you to overcome your adversity, and you will be more powerful than even I someday."

Harry couldn't move. "My lord, I don't-"

"Stop," the Dark Lord cut in sharply. "Don't refer to me in such a manner. I am not your master, Hadrian. I am your father . Didn't you understand when my cruciatus curse did not work? I will not harm you. Ever ."

Harry fought to rein in his emotions, and he crushed the traitorous hope he felt. "I cannot believe that," he finally said quietly, avoiding looking at his father. "One day I will not live up to expectations, or I will fail at a given task. You may feel this way now, but I would not blame you if that were to change."

"I never knew a Gryffindor to be so spineless," the Dark Lord answered viciously. "Stop acting like such a coward. Perhaps Dumbledore really did kill you after all, just like he killed your mother. Giving in to him is dishonoring her sacrifice."

Emerald eyes shot up in fury. "Don't you dare," Harry hissed back. "I would never-she-I would have traded places with her in a heartbeat. I hate Dumbledore for killing her."

The Dark Lord's anger switched off with suspicious ease. "And you hate yourself because of it as well," he murmured.

Harry looked away.

"Don't," his father said curtly. "No one but Dumbledore is to blame. It was a lesson I had to learn myself."

The black-haired boy suddenly looked up in interest. "Lucius said you… might understand why I… well, why I hurt myself."

The Dark Lord stood up abruptly and rested his arms on the fireplace. Harry wished he could see the lord's face.

"I never deliberately harmed myself," he stated dispassionately. "But I did go to new extremes for power, and I ignored anything that caused me pain. Pain, in a sense, I welcomed. I was slow to heal any injuries I received from my reckless attempts for revenge. I embraced my rage rather than my guilt, and it consumed me." The Dark Lord turned back around, but his facial expression was unreadable. "And, in the end, it was my downfall."

"And now?" Harry whispered.

The Dark Lord regarded him seriously. "I had many years to deal with the consequences and to consider my misguided attempts at retribution. You, my son, have no need to do the same."

It was silent in the room, apart from the fire, for a long moment. The more Harry mulled over the words, the more he wondered if his father was speaking the truth.

"Lucius claimed my mother would rather die than to have never had me," Harry said slowly.

The Dark Lord inclined his head. "You would do well to listen to your godfather."

Harry frowned slightly as he looked away, and he changing the subject swiftly. "Why aren't you furious at me? I interrupted your meeting because I… well…" he trailed off uncertainly.

The Dark Lord smiled slightly, but it was meant more dangerously than as comfort. "Don't misunderstand me," he said silkily. "I am most angry. But you, my son, still need to learn the importance of controlling your emotions."

Harry laughed bitterly. "You'd be surprised how well I keep things inside me."

The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes. "That may be, but not from me, Hadrian. Never try to keep something from me again. If I even have an inkling that you have turned to self-harm once more, you will live to seriously regret it."

Harry shivered slightly. This wizard, with his aura flaring dangerously and his aristocratic features observing him coolly, was without a doubt the greatest Dark Lord to have ever lived.

"Did I ruin your diplomatic mission?" Harry murmured distractedly, his heart racing.

"Do not concern yourself," the Dark Lord answered dismissively. "Your health is a great deal more important than that alliance."

"But Lucius told me it could change the course of the war," Harry stated in disbelief.

The Dark Lord walked to him slowly and placed a hand on his head firmly.

"And so will you, my son."

Well I hope this was worth the wait! Thank you for your wonderful support and reviews. Please continue to let me know what you think, it really is what inspires me to write the next chapter.

Next chapter will be more Bella/Snape, the aftermath of Harry/Voldemort, and Hermione's reaction. I might throw in some Hogwarts if I have space as well.

Thanks! Happy reading :)

Author's Note

Dear faithful readers,

I apologize for the incredibly long absence on my part. Time passed so quickly, it is simply astonishing! I can't believe how long it has been since I last updated this story. For a while I was so occupied with my daily life that I intensely considered abandoning this story as well as this site in general. However, a few reviewers had such kind comments that I was forced to reevaluate my situation.

After much deliberation I decided I would condense my plot rather than abandon my story . I simply do not have the time to finish the story in the detailed manner I would have preferred. I now plan for there to be three more chapters and an epilogue. As can be understood with condensing a great magnitude of plot into only a few additional chapters, there will be some paraphrasing and summarizing that otherwise would have been written out. I ask for your courtesy and consideration in this regard. Also, there will be a time skip between the second and third updated chapters which will allow you to see Hadrian for the prince he is but will unfortunately shorten the time available to watch Hadrian learn to accept his father and grow from his hardships. Hopefully, this compromise that allows me to complete my story will be worth any disappointment concerning the brevity.

I am currently finishing this next chapter and so it will be posted within a few days. It will of course replace this author's note at that time.

I wish to thank all of you for your patience and your encouragement. I realize why I love writing when others reap the benefits of my efforts and enjoy reading my words. Plus, it always brings great personal satisfaction. :) Thank you to all you reviewers and readers who have helped me along my journey in writing Keeping Appearances . Really, I am finishing this story mostly to reward all of you for your tremendous support.

Happy reading,

TheEscapeFromReality

Chapter 16

Here's your chapter, enjoy! I didn't have much time to edit, but I do believe it is mostly error free.

Disclaimer: Belongs to J.K.R., don't sue me please, adapted storyline is mine!

Warnings: Light mentions of self-harm and abuse.

The Dark Lord regarded his son carefully during breakfast. He had given Hadrian dreamless sleep the night before, but his son still looked tired and aged.

"Hadrian," he said quietly. "Why did you not alert me to the fact you were not sleeping?"

Hadrian stiffened slightly, looking up from his half-eaten plate with a humorless smile playing at his lips. "I'm sure you can guess, sir," he said sarcastically. "The whole 'weak-and-defenseless' look I have going for me would never be complete without childish nightmares."

Anger welled up inside the Dark Lord at his son's uncaring persona. "This is not a joke, Hadrian," he said harshly. "I never wanted you to keep secrets from me because you thought I would take it the wrong way ." By the end of his words, his tone had turned mocking. "Am I so fragile that you felt I couldn't handle the truth, hmm?"

By now, Hadrian's Slytherin side seized control and he remained carefully silent.

"Lucius told me of your latest night terror," the Dark Lord said slowly, his eyes narrowed. "Is that why you felt you could not tell me? Am I frequently the source of these… dreams?"

His emerald eyes flickered away.

"Do not lie to me," the Dark Lord said deliberately, sensing upcoming deception.

"Not always," he whispered. "Sometimes they are of the Dursleys… sometimes about the Headmaster… and… sometimes of my-the Potters." Hadrian frowned after he almost called the Potters his parents.

The Dark Lord nodded, surprised at his son's honesty, but no indication of that surprise was shown in his serious amber-red eyes. "And the ones of me?" he inquired in a low voice.

"They are nothing, sir."

"Hadrian," he warned.

His son sighed. "They got worse in your absence," he admitted. "I expected to be… punished… for my failures."

The Dark Lord went rigid at that revelation, although he had expected it. With a brief push of legilimency he caught a glimpse of himself hitting his son, making him feel oddly… dissatisfied. His son pushed him out before he could see anymore.

"Your occlumency is improving," the Dark Lord mused, but he was slightly distracted by the vision he had just seen. "Well done."

The compliment lessened Hadrian's furious expression, as the Dark Lord had hoped it would. It certainly was a sincere comment, but it also was purposefully timed. Nonetheless, his son still looked seriously affronted.

"You no longer deserve privacy," the Dark Lord told him coolly, sensing his objections. "You lost that privilege when you violated your own safety. I will not tolerate self-harm of any kind Hadrian. I placed a spell on you to alert me any time you purposefully cause yourself harm." His tone suddenly softened after staring for a long moment at the stone-masked young man. "Hadrian, you are my son, and I never want you to punish yourself, especially on my behalf."

Hadrian's mask dropped suddenly to be replaced with raw emotion. "You can't mean that," he whispered.

"I do," he said quietly. He rose to his feet and moved to carefully place his hand on his son's shoulder, slow enough so he would not flinch away. "Even if it takes years for you to realize, I will do whatever it takes to prove that to you."

His son nodded timidly, and the Dark Lord could tell he was uncertain whether to believe him or not.

"I am now taking over your occlumency lessons, as well as any additional training sessions," the Dark Lord announced. "You, my son, will be seeing much of me during these upcoming months, and even years. In fact, I think we should start dueling right away."

That brought a genuine smile to his son's face. He purposefully worded the new situation to convey to his son that he would always be wanted.

"Come," the Dark Lord ordered. "Let's see whether Lucius was right to brag incessantly about your dueling abilities."

Hadrian smirked, momentarily forgetting his fears and doubts. Just like his father, he loved a challenge.

Harry immediately placed his hands on his knees in exhaustion after his father raised a hand to cease fire. He had managed to keep up with his father for the past three hours. Although the Dark Lord had put him on his face and rear a dozen times, Hadrian had also managed to disarm his father twice.

"Well done," his father said confidently. "You are truly gifted, my son. A few more years and your power will match my own."

Harry could not stop the urge to give the lord a satisfied grin.

Maybe things were looking up after all.

Abruptly, his father's eyes strayed from his face to his arms. Harry froze, and his eyes followed the motion to stare at his bare arms that bore long, jagged scars. He had taken off his robe earlier in the training session, but now he wanted to put the robe back on as fast as humanly possible. His father caught his arms suddenly, as if recognizing his fear and shame.

"We will overcome this, Hadrian."

Harry looked up and stared at the Dark Lord. This charismatic, handsome man, with power radiating from his every being, had a resolve in his ruby eyes that pulled Harry in and made him want to trust. The most powerful wizard alive, his father, would not let him fail.

And suddenly Harry believed he would actually overcome this.

Albus Dumbledore surveyed the crowd of wizards and witches that comprised the Order. Many were old faces from the first war, but a few were new faces, new pieces on his chess board.

He knew that Voldemort was gathering followers quickly. The acceleration was in fact alarming, but Dumbledore had a few more moves up his sleeve. Currently, many people were oblivious to the fact that Lord Voldemort had indeed returned. Soon, when Tom Riddle truly started the war, Dumbledore was confident many would rise to join him rather than the so-called dark side.

When the noise in the room began to settle down, Dumbledore stepped forward with a twinkle in his eye and his grandfather mask in place.

"Welcome to the first official Order of the Phoenix meeting since our last gathering in 1981," Dumbledore greeted them. "With the return of Lord Voldemort, it has never been more imperative for strong witches and wizards to rise against the evil of his kind and all those who support dark magic."

The Headmaster externally ignored the gasps at the word 'Voldemort', but he frowned inwardly. He hated how Riddle's pseudo name provoked such great fear when his own did not. It was partially his fault that Riddle had such a powerful negative image, and really it was an important element politically, but it was still irritating.

While he considered this dilemma, his eyes slowly turned to meet every person in the room, trying to appear as if he actually cared about each one individually. Rapidly, he gathered his next words, privately sighing at the reaction that would ensue.

He had debated whether or not to inform them of the situation, but he could think of no plausible explanation to use as a scapegoat. Although it was a glaring problem, he expected it would help motivate some of the members into action.

"I have faith that through our efforts we will triumph again," he announced, but that confident remark was quickly stunted by his sorrowful grandfather expression. "However, I'm afraid our first order of the meeting is one that fills me with great regret."

There was a pause, a lull in all noise in the room as the members froze and waited expectantly, and it was after a few moments of dead silence that he announced, "Harry Potter is missing."

"What do you mean, 'Harry's missing'?"

It was no surprise to Dumbledore that Sirius Black spoke out first with unrestrained fury. As if the man had kicked a hive of angry bees with his outburst, the rest of the room exploded. The Weasleys were in an uproar, the normally calm Remus Lupin currently resembled the beast he transformed into once a month, and even those who had never actually met Harry were deeply alarmed.

"Unfortunately, I believe the dark side received inside access from the school and Harry was captured from within," Dumbledore said remorsefully once the noise level died down.

"How does Voldemort just stroll in and take Harry?" Sirius asked vehemently. "Hogwarts was supposed to keep him safe!"

Dumbledore anger was no longer fictitious. He too was boiling in rage that his most prized pawn was now no longer available and had escaped right from under his grasp. "I will find the traitor and he will not be punished lightly," he said dangerously. "Harry will be found, I assure you."

"How long has he been missing?" Arthur Weasley spoke up. "My children mentioned in their letters that he has been gone to deal with the death of a relative."

The Headmaster had expected that question, but he had still hoped it would not be brought up. Nonetheless, he could lie himself out of this sticky situation as he did all others.

He sighed heavily, as if weighed down by a great burden. "I was uncertain whether Harry had left willingly or whether he truly was missing. I made that cover story to prevent backlash from the media and unnecessary panic if he truly wasn't captured. But with the return of Voldemort and his attack on Azkaban, it was made clear that Harry is with him."

So overcome with fear for Harry's welfare, the members of the Order were oblivious to the repeated use of Riddle's pseudo name.

"The poor dear is probably being tortured," Molly Weasley gasped, with her hands in her face. Her husband wrapped an arm around her comfortingly, but his eyes were hard.

Dumbledore turned his attentions over to Black, who was now pacing and muttering to himself. Really, the only reason he kept the man around was for his money and the headquarters for the Order. In the long run he was too much of a fatherly figure for Harry and would have to be dealt with soon. At the moment the Headmaster was wondering to himself if it was time to kill the man off.

"When are we rescuing him? We can't just sit here and do nothing!" Black threw his hands up in frustration. "I WILL NOT LET MY GODSON SUFFER ANY LONGER IN THE HANDS OF THAT MONSTER!"

"Yelling will do you no favor, Black," Severus Snape sneered from the corner. "Shut your delinquent mouth and listen to the Headmaster, for once in your life. I'm sure we would all like to hear what his plan of action is, but that's impossible if you howl all night like a wounded dog ."

Black sent Snape a hard glare, but any retort was cut short by Arthur Weasley.

"Have you been summoned?" the redhead asked the Slytherin Head of House. "Would you have information on Harry's whereabouts?"

"As the Headmaster knows, I was summoned only the night of the Dark Lord's return," Snape answered in a low voice. "I am still trusted and he doesn't suspect that my true loyalties rest with the Order."

Black's disbelieving scoff was silenced by Dumbledore's hard look in his direction. He turned back to face his spy with a nod of approval.

"And as Arthur asked, has he said anything of Harry?" Dumbledore inquired, resting his chin on his clasped hands.

"The location of the Golden Boy was not addressed, neither did the Dark Lord mention that he was captured," the Potions Master said smoothly. "If the Dark Lord has the boy he is not forthcoming on any information concerning him. The Dark Lord fears there is a traitor in the midst."

"Very wise of him," Dumbledore mused, before continuing confidently. "Nonetheless, continue to search, Severus. Address the issue if you must. We must locate Harry and bring him back to safety."

"Of course, Headmaster," Snape said silkily, bowing his head curtly in acknowledgment.

"Until then, I will speak to my contacts in the Ministry," Moody cut in roughly. "We will start the search at once, but it will be kept quiet. The boy will be found."

"Thank you, Alastor," Dumbledore said, nodding thoughtfully. "As long as you keep it exclusive it will be of great help."

The next two hours continued in a similar fashion, and the headmaster left with a feeling of great satisfaction. The Order persists to follow blindly after his every whim. He did have his suspicions concerning Snape, but he was certain that the man would never betray the side Lily Potter once fought for so valiantly. Black might also pose a problem, but he could be easily silenced. As a whole, the Order was clueless to his real ambitions.

But part of him feared that Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort were not. In the end, Harry's death was a much better that him learning of the truth. But the Headmaster still saw the importance in seeking out his pawn. After all, nothing would be sweeter than for the boy to kill his own father, although he supposed father killing son would be a satisfying second option.

Severus Snape left the meeting in an unhurried manner, but inside he wanted nothing more than to be by Bellatrix's side. With a grim smile, Severus stepped into the fireplace and vanished in a flourish. His carefully controlled masked dropped the moment he landed in Spinner's End. In his fury he sliced a few of the nearby pieces of furniture until they no longer resembled their original states.

Every second in the Headmaster's presence tested his restraints to their limits now that Severus knew the old wizard's true colors. The so-called Leader of the Light revealed he was responsible for the deadly cutting curse sent Bellatrix's way after inquiring whether she survived. Never before had Severus relied on his occlumency skills more than that moment.

Albus Dumbledore would die a long, excruciating death. Between the Dark Lord and himself, the Headmaster would come to truly recognize the consequences of playing with fire to such an extent.

Severus took a deep breath, collecting himself. With a flick of his wrist the room returned to its initial condition without any indication of his earlier rage.

The Potions Professor slowly moved up the stairs to the master bedroom. He grimaced as he observed all of his surroundings. He tried to limit the time spent at this hovel, especially with all the wonderful memories over the years. Months have passed since he has last entered this house, but his magic maintained it in his absence.

He froze when he caught a glimpse of the silver goblet he used to practically live in. Slowly, he turned to the corner of the master bedroom and walked over to the pensieve. Before his brain realized that his body was moving, he was falling into the silvery essence of his past.

The noise in the Great Hall could only be explained as deafening. Hundreds of children chattered happily as they stuffed their faces in the mountains of delectable foods and desserts only presented once a year: the Sorting.

Severus ignored his peers in disgust and pushed a pile of mashed potatoes around his plate aimlessly. His eyes were trained on a head of brilliant red hair, and he frowned when the beautiful young woman beamed at Prince Potter beside her.

"Obsessing over Evans again, Snape?"

Severus jumped and turned to scowl at the unfortunate soul who had the nerve to address him. He froze when his eyes met the black depths of the notorious Bellatrix Black.

"I don't know what you see in her, Snape," she continued ruthlessly. "Sure she's pretty, but she's shallower than a tide pool and dumber than a box of rocks."

Snape felt himself go red in anger, but before he could go off at Bellatrix she had silenced him with a casual flick of her wand. Indignant, he reached for his wand in his pocket to come up empty. He looked around desperately and froze when he realized Bellatrix was smugly twirling his ebony wand between her fingers.

The pureblood leaned in, her breath hot on his ear. "Careful, Severus," she whispered, drawing out his name dangerously and his heart raced in panicked response. "You're obsessive affections have enthralled your senses and made you vulnerable. " She drew back, smirking in amusement. "If you are interested in learning what real power is, you know where to find me."

She pocketed his wand and moved back down the table without a backward glance. Severus seethed to himself, plotting his revenge as he stared at the back of her flowing black curls.

It wasn't until much later that night that he realized that after that encounter he had not turned to the Gryffindor table even once.

The memory quickly changed to another, weeks after the first.

"Still reading, half-blood?" Dolohov sneered. "It's a waste of time. All of that studying won't change the fact that you're a bastard child with inferior magical abilities."

Severus snapped his book closed, glaring at his fellow sixth year in undisguised loathing.

"Remove yourself, Dolohov, before I forcibly do so myself," he hissed, eyeing the now silent common room anxiously.

"I'd like to see you try, Snape," Dolohov mocked, laughing.

Severus caught the eyes of Bellatrix Black momentarily and his earlier urge to obey his self-preservation instincts was now void. In a rush of adrenaline, he raised his wand with a flourish. The cutting curse he directed toward the other sixth year elicited a scream of pain and gasps of surprise.

The common room was in an uproar at the sight of the bloodied pureblood heir.

Bellatrix, the Head Girl, stepped forward with an air of authority that only a true pureblood heiress would possess. She observed Dolohov carefully before turning her dark eyes thoughtfully on Severus.

"Tell the Headmaster," someone shouted. "He should be expelled."

Bellatrix only smiled viciously. "The first person to do so will be ousted from Slytherin," she announced. "Justice was served effectively and I myself would have done nothing different."

The room went silent in awe and astonishment at her words.

Bellatrix leaned over the whimpering Dolohov, eyeing him in disgust.

"Better get to the hospital wing, Dolohov," she said coolly. "Apparently your friendly peer duel ended up a little more serious than you anticipated, but it was purely accidental."

No one misunderstood her words.

She turned around in a flourish, and Severus watched her in amazement.

She had defended him - Severus Snape, the half-blood loner.

Even that day at the lake after the O.W.L.S., Lily Evans did not try her best to defend him. Instead, she had turned her back on him.

Bellatrix Black was different.

Severus pulled out of the memories, closing his eyes. That was the day Bellatrix had truly started to capture his heart. From that first moment she stole his wand he had been intrigued by the wild heiress with an affinity for the dark arts. Gradually, they started to exchange conversation sporadically, which eventually turned into weekly dark art sessions together. She was impressed by his abilities, especially with their slight age difference.

His lips upturned slightly as he leaned in to the pensieve to observe the next memory. It was a hard memory to watch, but he would never forget it.

"Come on, Black, don't be like that," a rough voice said.

Severus stopped his furious pace at the voice and turned to look down a dim corridor in the heart of the dungeons. The blood drained from his face when he saw familiar black curls and the huge frame of Ralph Carrow. The brute had her pressed roughly against the wall, and his hands were inching up her robes.

She shoved at him viciously, but he quickly grabbed her hands and crushed them with own gigantic fingers.

"Now, now, Bella," he purred. "No need to play hard to get. I can see the lust in your eyes."

Severus watched in horror as the man flicked his wand and his magic bounded her to the wall, preventing her from fighting back any longer. His hands trailed over her breasts, and the horror in her eyes made Severus feel sick. Angrily, Severus reached for his wand, but he stopped when he heard Bellatrix's next words.

"You will regret this, Carrow," she hissed. "Even in all your stupidity you should realize that my father would tear you to shreds. The Carrow name is dirt compared to the Blacks."

He only smiled predatorily, and leaned in to kiss her brutally.

As if jolted, Severus moved and stunned Carrow quickly. He had half the mind to use the killing curse on him, but instead he kicked him roughly and turned to face Bellatrix.

"Severus," Bella breathed.

He stared into her dark orbs and gently released the magic restraints from her arms and legs.

"Thank you," she said curtly, looking abruptly uncomfortable.

Severus realized she didn't like him seeing her so weak and helpless. He stepped toward her to reassure her, but she quickly moved past him and began to burrow in Carrow's robes. She let out a sigh of relief at finding her wand in one of his pockets. In the next instant, Carrow was suspended in the air.

Severus half-admired and half-feared the beautiful witch at that moment.

"Don't kill him, Bella," he warned. "He isn't worth going to Azkaban for. I want him dead just as much as you do, but it isn't worth throwing your life away for."

Her jaw was set in anger, and for a second Severus worried she would ignore his words. Slowly, he stepped behind her and guided her wand down. His breath hitched when she turned, her face inches from his own.

"I can't just let him get away with this," she hissed. "He-He-" she broke off, shaking in uncontrolled rage. "I have never felt so helpless before, Severus. If you weren't there-" she broke off and then suddenly her lips were on his.

They kissed deeply for a few minutes until common sense forced Severus to push her away.

"Bella, you're upset," he whispered. "You just want comfort from someone. You couldn't possibly…" he trailed off, looking away.

"Don't speak for me, Severus," she whispered, smirking. "You should know that by now."

He gazed at her searchingly before, accepting her words as the truth, his lips crashed on hers, kissing her roughly. They stopped after several minutes of pure bliss, breathing heavily.

"We better take this pervert to the headmaster," Severus murmured, glancing at the unconscious wizard by their feet.

"Target practice first," Bella said, flashing him a vicious grin.

Severus laughed and kissed her again before they both turned their wand on Carrow.

The next memory was one of the worst he ever experienced. He had half the mind to pull away and avoid this painful mistake, but instead he watched as the memory morphed into another.

They were by the Great Lake, silently staring into the depths of the dark water. The silence was amiable, peaceful even, and Severus glanced at the beautiful witch beside him with a small smile playing on his lips. She lifted her head from his shoulder, sighing happily.

"So much is going to change in a few weeks," she whispered. "I wish I could just stay here, frozen forever."

He shifted slightly to face her directly, confused at her tone. "Bella?" he asked, concerned.

Her eyes flickered from his face to the ground. Startled, he tilted her face up gently with his index finger. Her face was blank, but her eyes were a whirl of emotion.

"Is this about the letter you received last night?" he murmured, suspicion flitting over his features.

She pulled away from him, and he was unnerved when she didn't answer for a few minutes.

"Bellatrix?" he said slowly.

"What if I asked you to run away with me?" she suddenly said, breathless. "We can just get out of this madness. I know the perfect spot - an abandoned family cabin my parents would never find us at. You can do potion orders and we-"

"Bellatrix," he cut in, shocked. "What brought this on?"

Anger consumed her previous hopeful expression. "My parents have arranged a marriage between me and Rodolphous Lestrange."

Severus felt as if a dagger had pierced his heart. He pulled back, closing his eyes tightly. When he felt a soft hand on his face, he pushed away angrily and started to pace.

"Severus, I will not marry him," she said firmly as she also rose to her feet and reached out to him. "I love you ."

So caught up in his fears, he did not process her words. A million thoughts were running wild through his mind, but the one emotion he was not experiencing was surprise. He knew, theoretically, that he never had a chance to marry such an esteemed heiress. Part of him hoped that an internship with a Potions Master would secure him more influence, but even then he should have none it was impossible.

"Severus?" she whispered.

"You must marry him, Bella," he said slowly, each word feeling like a bout of a cruciatus curse. "I will not allow you to sacrifice your whole life for me."

"You will not allow me?" she repeated furiously between gritted teeth. "Don't you realize that I cannot be with another brute like Carrow? I understand it might be hard, but I can't-"

"You do not understand the consequences of such a decision," he said angrily. "You've never lived in poverty, not even for a moment in your life. You are treated as a precious princess, waited on hand and foot. You know nothing about the realities of facing a world without your father's name backing you up."

She flinched back from him as if she had been burned. "How dare you," she hissed.

Severus smiled humorlessly. "It's the truth, Bellatrix. And I knew it would never work out. I should have none it would end this way. I never deserved you."

"Severus-"

"Goodbye, Bellatrix."

She grabbed him forcibly and pulled him around to face her. Angry tears gathering in her eyes, and Severus barely stopped his hands from gently wiping them away.

"You are supposed to fight for me, Severus!"

"I cannot fight a battle I know I will lose."

Severus turned away, struggling against overwhelming despair. He had never felt so miserable in his entire life. He just wanted to turn back and beg her forgiveness and kiss those beautiful lips, but instead he hurried away without a backward glance.

"Coward!"

That word would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Severus pulled out of the pensieve, unable to watch any more of his terrible mistakes, and he buried his head in his hands.

Despite being outside the pensieve, he knew precisely the series of memories that followed. The sequence of poor decisions all resulted in Bella's capture, his very worst memory.

Suddenly, his head snapped up with renewed determination.

He had to see Bellatrix now and finally make things right.

He would not lose her again.

The scream escaped his throat and pierced the air, awaking Harry with a start. He threw himself off the bed, gasping desperately as he pressed his sweat-drenched body against the closest wall.

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to remove the face of the Headmaster that seemed forever imprinted into his mind.

"You do not control me anymore," he whispered to himself. "You do not control me anymore."

Suddenly, the aching desire to hurt himself was unbearably strong. He directed his wand toward his arm but turned it away just as quickly, his father's earlier words echoing through his head.

His father would be alerted the moment he hurt himself. And he would be most displeased.

A moment later, the door slammed open and a formidable figure burst through the door. Cold red eyes met panicked green.

Harry had forgotten that the silencing spells were no longer protecting him. The Dark Lord must have heard his scream. Terrified, he avoided his father's eyes and pressed himself closer to the wall.

Thank Merlin he had avoided his earlier urge to cut open his arm again. He couldn't imagine the Dark Lord's response to that . This was terrible enough.

"I'm sorry for waking you, sir," he whispered desperately. "I informed you what would happen if you insisted on removing the silencing spell. Tomorrow the spell will be back up and this will never happen again, I swear."

There was an edged silence followed by quiet, deliberate footsteps. Harry's raised his head to observe his father as he walked closer and closer to his position against the wall. The Gryffindor inside him forced him to straighten up and not cower. But the Slytherin in him made him recoil and grip his wand tightly as the hand reached toward him.

The touch was firm but not painful. Harry glanced at the hand on his shoulder in confusion. Never before had such a rude awakening to a guardian not resulted in a harsh punishment.

"You did not disturb me, Hadrian," he said simply. "Come. Let us talk."

With the firm hand now on his back, the Dark Lord led his son out of the room into a nearby sitting room. After summoning a house elf, Harry now supported a cup of hot tea in his hands. He stared down into the brown depths rather than face his father.

"You had a nightmare."

Harry nodded to confirm the statement.

"Tell me about it."

"Sir, there is no need to keep you up over such a pathetic-"

"Hadrian, I do believe that I can decide for myself what is and what isn't necessary."

For a brief moment their gazes connected, and Harry thought he saw a flash of sincere concern in the usually emotionless red eyes. Remembering their earlier conversations, he suddenly felt a surge of trust.

"It was a memory from my third year," Harry began. "I was in the headmaster's office…"

The Dark Lord listened attentively as his son regaled another memory of pain and torture at the hands of Albus Dumbledore. Forcing back his anger, he instead focused on his son's war-hardened face. His planned revenge for Dumbledore could wait. For now, his son needed a father.

He spoke quietly, using reason to prove to his son that it was not his fault and that Dumbledore would never have such power over him again. He offered a few words of comfort, trying to explain that Hadrian would never again be alone.

And that was the first of many nights father and son would spend together, unraveling the terrors of the past and focusing on the hope of the future.

Beams of the illuminating moonlight flickered across the Dark Lord's body as he stood motionless in the shadows of the spacious office window. Midnight had come and gone by the time the Dark Lord had begun his vigil, and many hours continued to pass in the dead silence of the night.

As a result of Hadrian being disallowed silencing spells, the Dark Lord had many sleepless nights the past several days, but he never needed much sleep to begin with.

Tonight was a rare night Hadrian was sleeping peacefully, but the Dark Lord could not bring himself to retire. His brain was thinking furiously, switching between his son and the upcoming war randomly. Even if he had the desire to, he would not find sleep this night.

A blur in the Dark Lord's eye of vision suddenly began to widen. Gradually, he was able to make out the black shape of an owl. The window flew open with a flick of his wand, allowing the unknown bird entrance. Slowly, the Dark Lord reached for the silver envelope in the creature's beak. After casting a series of spells to ensure personal protection, he carefully removed the letter from the blank silver envelope.

The words that followed shocked him.

Lord Slytherin,

Your plight to conquer Britain is not unheard of, but your true motives have always been a mystery. I allowed a meeting out of curiosity, and, perhaps, out of instinct that there was something more behind the political unrest spearheaded by such a powerful wizard.

I was not disappointed. I did, however, doubt that your cause could ever truly overlap with my own concerns and values. I could not argue your unwavering devotion to such a mission was inspiring. However, I was concerned over whether your overzealous ambitions would cloud your judgment in matters that truly are never worth the sacrifice.

As you already seem to be aware of, I have two young children, both of whom take top priority over concerns of the state. However, the revelation that you yourself have a child shocked me. Even more, I never imagined that the Dark Lord I heard of in rumors would have the compassion to sacrifice an important alliance for a child.

It is for this reason I decided to join your cause when the time arises. I also have taken the liberty to reach out to a few powerful allies, including the French, Spanish, and German Ministers of Magic. All three agree with your cause, even the French Minister, and they will not come to Britain's aid when you wage war. The German Minister of Magic, a good friend of mine, has agreed to join forces with us as well.

I expect to meet you again soon to discuss in more depth this new commitment and alliance.

Sincerely,

Minister Obolensky

The Dark Lord smirked to himself. This would stir up a great deal of commotion that Dumbledore surely did not calculate into his plans.

It was very odd, the Dark Lord considered after many more hours passed. It was all unexpected, the impact Hadrian would have.

Maybe in some cases compassion could be a strength rather than a weakness.

Almost three weeks passed since there first training session, and each day Harry struggled to overcome his doubts. They had yet to have an occlumency lesson, nor did they address it, but every day they dueled or worked on school material. Gradually, trusting his father became easier. The lord was cold, dark, sly, unforgiving, and manipulative, but he was also fiercely protective, unbelievably intelligent, surprisingly humorous, and almost caring. Harry found himself looking forward to each training session and dreading his free time off, even if it was spent flying.

Currently, he was sitting in the library, losing spectacularly at chess to this wizard in question. His father was smirking smugly, and he frequently asked condescending questions such as, "Are you certain you want to move there?" and "Do I need to reiterate the purpose of this game?" and even "Hadrian, you do know you are the white pieces, correct?"

But considering his opponent, the fact that two hours had passed and he was still in the game was truly amazing. Harry hadn't missed his father's raised eyebrows at some of his well-planned and shockingly sneaky moves.

"Well, well, my son is a Slytherin after all," he murmured when Harry claimed one of his knights after sacrificing a few pawns and executing a perfect trap. A smirk suddenly tugged at his lips. "I played straight into your stratagem. Unfortunately for you, you played straight into mine. Check."

Harry groaned as he realized he had been outwitted. Desperately, he tried to avoid his father's queen for another twenty minutes, but there was no postponing his inevitable demise.

"Checkmate."

Harry cursed to himself under her breath.

"What did you say, Hadrian?" he asked innocently, smiling devilishly.

Harry shuddered at the expression on his father's face. His father always appeared much too smug when he won.

Suddenly, he got a brilliant idea.

"Well," he started out casually, "it's too bad I can't defeat you at chess. At least I know I can top you in one area."

When his father stiffened Harry knew he had taken the bait. Hiding a victorious smile, he continued his facade with great ease. "I mean, we all know even the greatest Dark Lord who ever lived could not beat the youngest seeker in history on the quidditch field."

Harry expected for his father to rise to the challenge, but instead his father relaxed with a small smirk. "Where did you think you got your flying skills, son?"

"Mum," Harry declared seriously, barely able to keep a straight face.

His father's smirk widened. "Well, I'll let you in on a little secret." His voice lowered mysteriously. "I don't even need a broom to fly. I'm not just a good flier." He paused before practically purred, "I'm the master of flight."

Harry's eyes widened. "You can fly without a broom?" he gasped. "Will you teach me that?"

"Perhaps," he said, suddenly subdued. "But first, you may be more interested in our visitor."

The Dark Lord smirked at the confusion that flickered over his son's face, thankful he had effectively deterred his son's newfound interest in broomless flight. Perhaps he should be more grateful he agreed to this. The witch had good timing at least.

The Dark Lord inclined his head to the right, and Harry followed the subtle movement.

He couldn't believe what his eyes were telling his brain. A gasp escaped his lips, unbeknownst to him. At the moment all of his senses were clouded.

He took a cautious step forward, a single name slipping from his lips: "Hermione?"

Well, hopefully you all enjoyed that installment. Some of the details were rushed, as you may have noticed and as I explained in my earlier author's note. I decided to not remove the AN just in case some have not yet read it. I will most likely remove it soon after. I was planning on paraphrasing the Bella/Severus situation more, but that pairing reared its angry head and simply refused extensive editing! So you got a ton of Bella/Severus, but hopefully you aren't too disappointed with the amount of Hadrian/LV. The pensieve experience was written a bit differently than my earlier use of it between Lucius and Hadrian, but I wrote it that way as it is only one person using the pensieve and to make the memories clearer for the reader. Hopefully it turned out alright.

Another thought, I forgot to answer a reviewer a long time ago about the Dark Lord adopting the title of Lord Slytherin. I never planned on going into detail in the story with this, as it was never that big of a plot point, but for background info. it is really more of a title and all of the Dark Lord's money is from followers and his own creative methods. The location of Slytherin Manor was found through information in Salazar Slytherin's writing in the Chamber of Secrets. Tom was then the only recent heir with access to the manor.

Anyways if there is anymore questions feel free to ask away! And PLEASE REVIEW! It really is what motivates me, so the faster you review the faster I update!

Next chapter: Severus confronts Bella, the Dark Lord and Hadrian take their own trip into the pensieve, Hadrian and Hermione finally catch up, and Daphne has something interesting to say to our protagonist…

Until next time! I'm thinking it will be another week or two, time permitting.

Happy reading!

Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Belongs to J.K.R., I only like to play in the sandbox of her playground.

Warnings: mentions of abuse, disturbing thoughts, mentions of self-harm

Harry recognized the curly, brown-headed witch, but there was a different air about her that made him pause. She stood with a cool confidence, her brown eyes flickering between him and the Dark Lord calmly.

"Hello, Harry," she said quietly, then hesitated. "Or… do you go by Hadrian now?"

Words escaped him as he stared at his best friend, whom he never imagined would accept him due to his newfound identity. She slowly approached them until she was only two arms-lengths away from Harry. They stared at each other for a long moment. Harry wasn't sure who moved first, but in the next moment his arms were wrapped tightly around the smaller girl.

"I missed you so much," she whispered.

He responded by holding her tighter to his body. Over her shoulder, he saw Draco, Theo, Blaise, Pansy, and Daphne standing in the doorway. He nodded at them, trying to convey his gratitude wordlessly. Hermione suddenly pulled away, searching his face desperately.

"You look so different," she murmured. "I almost didn't recognize you… but there is still that feel around you."

He managed a weak smile, still shocked that his muggleborn best friend was standing here, feet away from the Dark Lord. Almost as if reading his mind, her eyes shifted over to his father.

Then, to his complete astonishment, she bowed her head.

"Lord Slytherin, I thank you for allowing me entrance into your home," she said softly, but firmly.

"We are pleased to have you, Miss Granger," he replied politely, his eyes observing her curiously.

Harry turned to his father, stunned. "You-You let Hermione come here?" he gasped.

The powerful lord turned to him, a flicker of amusement crossing his blank face. "Of course, Hadrian. It is your home, as well. I will not deny access to any of your worthy friends."

Hermione looked equally as stunned by his last sentence. Her eyes flickered to the Dark Lord in wary curiosity, but Harry noticed she wouldn't meet his father in the eye.

Her hesitation did not escape the Dark Lord either.

"There is no need to be so timid, Miss Granger," he drawled. "I'm sure Mister Nott regaled you of my great legilimency power, but you have no need to fear invasion from me unless you give me reason to doubt your intentions."

She stiffened at his insight then relaxed, nodding her head in compliance.

To be honest, his father was so impressive at reading people he usually didn't need legilimency.

"I'll take my leave while you youth are reacquainted," the Dark Lord announced, smirking. "Miss Granger, I commend your bravery. Mister Malfoy, Mister Nott, Miss Greengrass, Miss Parkison… always a pleasure."

Harry watched his father turn and leave before facing Hermione.

"You still seem shocked I am here," Hermione said, smiling slightly.

"I never thought that you would be okay with this," Harry said honestly, motioning around him vaguely. "Draco mentioned you and Theo, but still I… couldn't believe it."

Hermione sighed, her eyes sad. "You're my best friend. It doesn't matter who you have for parents. And…" she trailed off, hesitating. "Well, from what I've heard and seen, the Dark Lord is very different from what I imagined. Part of me expected you to be, well…" she broke off, biting her lip.

Harry suddenly hardened. "Did you expect something different from my father?" he snapped defensively. "Maybe for him to torture you in front of my eyes and force me to do the same? Or did you believe you'd find me in the dungeons, barely alive?"

She flinched in surprise. "That's not what I was saying at all! But either way, you can't blame me for thinking that, Harry," she retorted. "Until a few weeks ago you had the same opinion."

"My name is Hadrian," he said coldly. "And trust me, Hermione, you know nothing about torture. If you knew the horrors I experienced at the hand of the so-called Leader of the Light then you would never accuse my father again of being evil."

Her face softened, and she reached out to grab his hand and squeeze it comfortingly. Harry swore he saw tears building up in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Hadrian," she said quietly. "This is unreal to me. But I believe you if you say your father can be trusted. And if the Headmaster truly harmed you then I will do everything in my power to help you defeat him."

Harry sighed in relief, his anger deflating quickly. "I'm sorry for snapping, Mione," he murmured. "I just… I expected you to launch into a lecture about trusting a declared Dark Lord." He straightened, confidence shining in his eyes. "He may not be the kindest wizard in Britain, but he is my father and I stand with him."

Hermione smiled slightly. "I'm glad you found what you needed," she murmured.

"So… you guys all good?" a voice called out.

Harry looked over at an expectant Draco Malfoy. The young prince turned to glance at Hermione, and she nodded in acceptance.

"Yeah, we're good," Harry called out. "Now get over here, Malfoy! I'm going to hex you into oblivion for not telling me about this."

The Slytherins had identical smirks on their faces as they approached.

"A true Slytherin never reveals their diabolical deeds," Draco said dramatically.

Harry laughed as his blond cousin embraced him with a distinct masculine air. He shook hands with Theo and Blaise, grinning, and then was surprised to be embraced tightly by both Pansy and Daphne.

"So I heard you two were officially dating," Harry said once they had pulled apart, staring obviously at the Gryffindor and Slytherin with intertwined hands. "Theodore, Hermione… I would like to extend my blessing," he announced seriously. "And I do solemnly swear to inflict serious harm on a certain male if he knowingly or unknowingly hurts my best friend. The Dark Lord can defend my claim that I have quite the wicked assortment of curses."

His friends looked both impressed and amused, but Theo's fixed smile proved he was at least slightly intimidating.

"You've been dueling with the Dark Lord?" Daphne asked with her eyebrows raised. "And you're still standing?"

Harry smirked smugly. "Maybe you should ask my father the same question."

"I doubt you even scratched him," Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes.

The young prince only smirked in reply.

"It's scary when you do that," Pansy said, her eyes wide. "You look just like the Dark Lord."

That only made his smirk widen.

"Well, Pansy, I know it might be hard to believe, but that's what happens when you have a child," Draco drawled. "Do you need the wand and cauldron discussion?"

If Draco was aiming to make Pansy blush he was sadly mistaken. "Actually, I prefer hands-on experience rather than lectures," Pansy purred shamelessly, fluttering her eyes.

Harry laughed with everyone as Draco colored slightly at her flirtatious comment. The emerald-eyed wizard caught the gaze of Hermione and grinned. He was surrounded by friends and family, people who actually cared for him.

For once, everything was falling into place.

Harry relaxed in one of the armchairs closest to the raging fireplace. He sighed in content as he thought about the earlier conversations with the Slytherins and Hermione. They had stayed all day catching up, and telling him things such as Ronald's new role as the Gryffindor bully. It was the first day of winter break, therefore the first opportunity for them to visit Harry without raising red flags. Apparently Hermione had been desperate to see him.

"Hadrian?"

Harry looked up to see Daphne standing close by, the light from the fire reflecting over her porcelain skin.

"Daphne," he said, surprised. "I thought you left with everyone else."

She smiled vaguely. "May I sit?" she asked, motioning to the armchair angled toward his.

Harry nodded, curious as he watched the beautiful blonde sit beside him with her usual elegant grace. She was still an enigma to Harry. Often she would be as carefree and entertaining as Draco, but other times she was as cold and dispassionate as ice.

"Were you relieved to see Hermione?" she asked softly.

"Very. Thank you for ensuring she was ready."

"You're welcome."

An amiable silence fell over them, and Harry sent a few sidelong glances her way.

"Daphne?" he murmured, abruptly breaking the silence.

She turned to him, an eyebrow raised in question.

"What is your family like?" he asked softly. "You're the only one who didn't really say anything about their family today. You have a sister, correct?"

A small smile played at her lips, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Astoria. She is a second year."

Harry smiled, nodding. "I missed the sorting, but I remember seeing her after." He closed his eyes, sighing. "I wish I had a sibling," he mused sadly.

There was an unsettled silence for a long moment, and Harry slowly opened his eyes to observe Daphne. Her usual careful mask was replaced by a vulnerable expression, and her grey eyes stared at him in sorrow.

"You would be a good brother, Hadrian. But you should also be grateful that no one else had to suffer just as you have," she whispered. "Imagine if you had to watch a younger sister or brother experience the pain that haunts you."

Harry froze. The thought of anyone enduring through the agonizing pain that had been inflicted upon him made him want to vomit, particularly if it was someone who shared his own blood.

He refocused on Daphne, realizing she had a hollow, haunted expression. Slowly, he reached out to lightly touch her arm. Her eyes flickered up to meet his.

"You sound like you speak from experience," he whispered.

She attempted a smile. "There was a reason I stayed behind to talk to you, Hadrian. I thought you of all people deserved to know my own story."

Harry waited apprehensively for her to continue. Different ideas flashed through his mind on what she could possibly have to tell him, and his mind replayed his own horrors as a result. After a few moments he quickly stopped his thoughts.

He wouldn't wish that on anyone.

She looked away, drawing in a shallow, irregular breath. "I haven't told anyone about this willingly," she whispered, running a hand over her left arm subconsciously. "Only Professor Snape knows, excluding my family, and I never meant for him to find out."

Harry sighed knowingly, remembering his own experience with Severus. "You can't hide anything from that man," he agreed grudgingly. "I also know what that feels like."

She didn't reply, and Harry made no move to pressure her to continue. After a few minutes of staring into the flames, she turned back to face him.

"My mother had high expectations for my sister and me," she whispered. "She never loved my father. Astoria and I were only her duty as a pureblood woman, nothing more. I always knew she hated me for forcing her to stay with Father. You see… my father and my mother had a one-night stand outside marriage that resulted in my birth. I was the mistake that forced my mother to marry my father. I felt worthless, unwanted."

"You are not a mistake, Daphne," Hadrian cut in firmly.

She smiled slightly. "I know that now. But as a child, I only knew that my mother hated me and my only explanation was that it must be because there was something wrong with me." She shook her head in disgust. "I went to desperate measures to please my mother, but nothing I did would change her hatred for me. I was… punished severely for every little mistake and mocked for everything I prided myself in."

Harry stiffened. Her situation sounded all too familiar. "When you say punished you mean…?"

She nodded, avoiding his eyes. "I know of your home life at the Dursleys," she whispered. "Mine was similar, but instead my mother used magic. But the worst was when Astoria got mixed in with it all. Thankfully, I was able to shield my sister for the most part, but I couldn't protect her from everything."

Harry's face was a hard mask. His hands were in fists by his side. "And your father?" he asked curtly. "Did he… encourage this?"

Daphne shook her head vehemently. "No, no," she whispered. "But I thought he did at the time. That woman convinced me and Astoria that he agreed with her and believed we deserved it. We never dared to bring it up if she was speaking the truth."

Harry felt fiercely protectively. "Daphne, do not lie to me right now," he said evenly. "Is she still hurting you and Astoria?"

Daphne smiled slightly at his fierce concern and placed a calming hand on his arm. "Do not concern yourself, Hadrian. That woman will never hurt Astoria or me again."

Harry relaxed slightly. "Did your father find out?" he guessed.

"Last summer," Daphne confirmed, with a faraway look as she recalled the memory. "My mother was screaming at Astoria for her grade in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She sent a bone-crushing curse at her and… I snapped. I threatened her with my wand but Astoria was in so much pain I got distracted." She shook her head furiously. "I should have never allowed my emotions to cloud my actions. My mother disarmed me and started to torture me with the cruciatus. My father returned home early from work and heard my screams…" she trailed off, a vicious gleam in her eyes. "I've never seen my father so livid. He would have killed her if not for Astoria being in the room."

Harry gripped her hand in comfort, but his eyes were cold. "I hope she suffered."

She squeezed his hand tightly, and he could feel her shaking. Despite her brave face, she was clearly still traumatized. He rearranged himself to wrap his arms around her.

"I know what it feels like," Harry whispered. "I am so, so sorry. I understand that feeling of being unwanted and hated." He took a deep breath and decided to take a leap of faith. He didn't like to divulge his private trials but in this situation he felt it was only right to be honest.

"It's been weeks… but I still flinch every time someone touches me when I am unprepared. Half the time I still expect my father to turn his wand on me for not getting a spell right the first try or for speaking my mind. I just don't see how he could possible care for me. Sometimes… I think I deserve the treatment I received in the past."

"Your father loves you, Hadrian," she breathed into his ear. "You are not alone." She pulled back, staring at him resolutely. "And you should never, ever doubt your worth or think you deserved all that has happened to you."

Harry wanted so dearly to believe her words. "You don't know everything about me, Daphne," he said, trying to remove himself from her tight grasp in self-disgust. "I was trained for four years to kill people like your father. I wanted to." He closed his eyes in horror. "I thought all of you Slytherins deserved to suffer. I would have gladly done what your mother had."

Harry expected with that revelation that she would turn against him, just as everyone always does. He forced himself to stay still, waiting for the inevitable. A delicate hand touched his hand, and he flinched slightly. He opened his eyes to look into her calm grey gaze.

"You didn't deserve what those muggles or Dumbledore did to you," she whispered. "It was not your fault that you were expected to fight against those you believed to be truly evil. You may feel that you are guilty, but I look at you and I am amazed that such an incredible person could be born from such hatred and filth."

Harry shook his head, confused at her reaction. "You do not understand what I am telling you," he protested. "I do not deserve your acceptance. I am no better than the Dursleys, or Dumbledore, or your mother! I wanted to feel all of your pain, I craved it."

When her face morphed into a mask of fury, Harry stiffened. He knew once she processed the truth that she would never forgive him. But true friendship does not deserve to rest on a lie. The Slytherins had practically forced him into friendship, and he tried to push away all feelings of guilt when he enjoyed their presence. But now that Daphne had shared something so private with him he could stay quiet no longer.

"How could you say that?" she hissed. "Hadrian, you are nothing like those monsters. The fact that you would even consider yourself at their level for only thinking badly of your enemies, whom you believed had murdered your parents and put you in a life of abuse and misery, just proves that you are nothing like them." Her fury faded into sadness. "I know now that my mother was wrong about me. And I know that you are just as deserving as I to find happiness."

He bowed his head, pressing his hand roughly against his left wrist. His robes covered the many scars he was ashamed to see.

"Then why do I feel like I deserve pain?" he whispered. "Why do I yearn for it?" He broke off suddenly, realizing he had said too much.

"Like I said, you are not alone," she murmured.

Harry watched in astonishment as she lifted her own robes to reveal jagged lines on her wrists.

"You-" he broke off, shocked.

"Professor Snape found out a few months ago," she said quietly. "He ensured I saw the error in my ways and threatened me to the point I would never do it again."

Harry couldn't help the smile that crossed his lips. "He is a hard man to argue with."

Daphne smiled in return. "So is your father, I am certain."

The Gryffindor raised his eyebrows at her insight. "That is the understatement of the century," he agreed.

Harry pulled her closer as they watched the fire slowly die down. His only focus was on the sound of her heartbeat, lulling him into a deep calm.

Part of him still doubted her words, and he was certain part of him always would. But she made him want to believe. For once, he could just be with a person who knew exactly what it feels like to be him.

Don't be a coward, Severus told himself. He fought to keep his face expressionless, although he knew she would see right through him.

She deserved to know.

Severus raised a shaking arm to knock once on the door of the guest suite. He waited, his heart in his throat, for Bellatrix's reply.

"Come in, Severus," a faint voice called out.

After a deep breath he pushed open the door to reveal an empty bedroom. Immediately he knew he would find her outside on the terrace, her favorite place to think. He walked forward hesitantly until he could clearly see her. She was leaning against the balcony, her back to him. Long, black curls cascaded down her back, flowing with the wind carelessly. She was barefoot and wore nothing but a thin, black dress that flaunted her curves but still clearly showed her lack of weight.

He had visited her daily since she was first freed from Azkaban. Gradually she began to return to her formal glory, but he knew that some scars could never be healed.

Although he realized she never loved her husband, she still cared for him. He knew she would hate him once she learned the truth and his involvement in her capture. But the pit in his stomach told him he needed to reveal the truth or the guilt would eat him away.

She turned once she heard his approaching footsteps. A light smile graced her lips, and his breath caught when he stared at her. She was so beautiful. He didn't deserve such beauty.

She frowned in confusion, instantly realizing something was not right. "Severus?" she questioned, startled. She quickly moved to touch him, but he reared back as if he was burned. "What has happened?" she asked with the full authority that only came with being the Dark Lord's must trusted and devoted lieutenant.

"There is something you should know, Bella," he said slowly, unable to meet her eyes. "Something I wanted to forget, but I could not keep it from you forever."

It was silent, yet Severus couldn't find the will to look up and see the reaction from the love of his life.

"The night that you went to the Longbottoms," he whispered. "You knew that they were aware of the location of Hadrian and you were willing to do anything to get him back. I did not know it was you that went. I only heard that your husband had been sent. I was angry and hurt after you married him… and Dumbledore had reached out to me… he was so convincing… I still cared for Lily's safety, we were once great friends, and I heard they had been targeted… If I had known why I would have never protected them." By the end, his voice took an angry and pleading tone.

When her narrow hand gripped his upper arm tightly, Severus finally looked at Bellatrix. Her eyes were a storm of emotion.

"Are you saying you were the traitor that betrayed our mission?" she hissed.

The self-hatred consumed him. It was partially his fault that Hadrian had been forced to live a life of agony. And it was entirely his fault that Bella and many other followers had been sent to prison. And her husband's death was on his hands.

His expression was the only answer she needed. Her wand was pressed against his chest the next instant.

"How could you betray our cause? How could you betray us? How could you betray me ?" the pure anguish in her voice pierced his heart.

"Bella-"

"In the end, you still chose her, after everything," she hissed. "I loved you and you turned me down. I should have known it was because I was not good enough for you. No, only Lily Evans was ever good enough for you. You chose that mudblood whore who never appreciated you and would never love you!" She was panting by the end, glowing with powerful rage.

Severus fell to his knees, shocked by her words. Did she really think he could possibly still hold a flame for his childhood crush? Who was Lily Evans in comparison to Bellatrix Black, the beautiful heiress who was willing to sacrifice all her wealth and titles to run away with some half-blood nobody?

"I should kill you," Bella said coldly. "It is my duty to kill you, Snape."

"I deserve death," Severus admitted. "I will never forgive myself for what happened to you."

"Why would you even care?" Bella retorted. "You let me marry Rodolphous, who I was afraid would use me like Carrow. I was ready to give up everything for you and in return you betrayed me!"

"I love you, Bella!" he yelled in frustration. "I never loved Lily Evans! I always loved you ! I would never let you marry me when you deserved so much better! What would a life with me ever offer you? I had no titles, no money! I was just an abused, half-blood orphan by the time I graduated! I was so furious that I couldn't be with you! And then Dumbledore offered to pay for my apprenticeship in potions in return for spying. I could prove I had value, for once in my life. I never knew the repercussions that would follow."

"It doesn't matter why you did it! You knew you were sentencing Roldolphous to death!" she yelled. "Did he mean so little to you?"

"I was blinded by jealousy," Severus admitted. "It killed me every time he would touch you, or be with you, when I loved you so much. When I heard that Dumbledore learned of the plot against the Longbottoms from another source, I did nothing. I no longer believed in the Dark Lord's cause at the time, and I saw no reason to not prevent the inevitable deaths of the Longbottoms. And the fact that Lestrange was leading it only solidified my resolve to do nothing."

The wand pointed at him wavered.

"He was my husband, Severus," she whispered. "Even if it wasn't genuine love, he was a good companion."

Raw emotion flashed across his face. "I can only offer you true remorse, Bella. At the time I was furious at your capture, especially seeing since Dumbledore knew of our past relationship. He withheld information from me so I could aid the attack and would not fight against. The moment I heard I no longer served Albus Dumbledore. I truly regret Rodolphous's death. At the time I felt nothing, but I know now he was a much better man than Dumbledore portrayed him as. In fact, I am certain he was a better man than I."

He waited for Bellatrix to reject his sincere apology, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. The man was shocked when her wand slowly lowered, and in the next instant she was kneeling with him.

"If it was anyone else," she whispered to herself, the anger faded from her eyes. "I would kill you on the spot if you were anyone else."

They stared at each other for several minutes, words escaping them. Bellatrix seemed to be fighting an inner battle, while Severus struggled to keep his composure as he waited anxiously for her to speak.

"Did you mean it?" she said abruptly.

"Which portion are you referring to?" he asked quickly, a bit too desperately for his liking.

"Do you love me, Severus Snape?" she whispered, uncharacteristically vulnerable.

"Always," he promised, his eyes burning with emotion.

She rose, turning away from him so he could no longer see her face. He also climbed to his feet slowly.

"Dumbledore has ruined so many lives," she said angrily. She spun around in a rage, her untamed hair whipping behind her. "Why did you listen to him? Why did you not just tell me in the first place?"

She suddenly shoved his chest hard. Severus barely kept his feet in his surprise. She continued to slam her hands against his chests, now frantic. The Potions Professor took the blows silently, making no move to stop her. He stiffened when the first sob broke through, and her motions slowed. Out of instinct he wrapped his arms around her.

"Am I a terrible person for wanting to be with you anyways?" she cried. "Is it truly so wrong for us to be together?"

He stayed silent, his instincts screaming at him to wait and listen.

"Why am I crying?" she said to herself angrily, pulling away from his hold. "I am the Dark Lord's right hand. I do not cry. Why do you always do this to me?"

She turned away to rest her arms on the balcony, trying to compose herself. Minutes passed in stilled silence until she finally spoke again, her voice empty of tears.

"If you felt even a portion of how I felt after our breakup," she said quietly, "then I can understand why you did it. I would have done anything to be with you again. I would have killed for it."

She moved back around to look into his steady ebony gaze.

"Leave me, Severus," she said coolly. "I need time to consider this revelation."

He forced himself to nod his head and not argue against her. He could tell she was on the tipping point, and he should count himself lucky he wasn't on the other end of her wand right now.

"Severus?" she whispered, once again no longer facing him.

He stared at the back of her black curls, holding his breath. Forcing himself to breathe, he asked, "Yes?"

"If I cannot forgive you, will you keep fighting?"

His mind flashed back to their breakup, when she insisted he was supposed to fight for her. This time around he refused to be a coward.

"Always," he promised. "I will always fight for you, Bella."

The Dark Lord stood on the large terrace connected to the library, enjoying the silence of the dark of the night. He had no need to turn around to know who was approaching.

"Bella," he said quietly.

"My lord."

He glanced over at her bowed figure.

"You seem to be well recovered," he stated calmly.

"Very, my lord," she said softly, slowly straightening. "I thank you for your hospitality."

The Dark Lord merely nodded, turning away while he waited for her to speak again.

"My lord," she began hesitantly, which instantly made the Dark Lord curious. Bellatrix Lestrange was not a tentative soul. "My lord, please tell me if I am stepping over boundaries, but I was wondering about you and Caroline…"

As always since her death, the Dark Lord felt the pang of anguish and he stiffened automatically. "Yes?" he asked sharply. "What is it?"

A tense moment washed over them before the familiar boldness of Bellatrix Lestrange emerged. "My lord, did Caroline ever go against your commands?"

The Dark Lord smirked. "The more accurate question would be 'when did she not?'," he mused. "You were close to her, Bella. You know what she was like."

"Yes, my lord," she agreed. "But did she ever… step too far? Did she ever do something unforgivable but yet… understandable?"

An amused smile briefly crossed the lord's face. "Are you referring to Caroline, Bella, or to Severus?"

He could feel the shock radiating from her. "My lord?" she gasped. "Do you know-" she broke off abruptly.

The night was stilled for a long moment. Finally, the Dark Lord turned around fluidly to face his faithful follower. The only expression on his face was a single raised eyebrow.

"Do you truly think anyone could keep a secret of that magnitude hidden from their lord forever?"

There was no hint of arrogance in his question, only truth. Bella flinched back at his bold words, shaking her head rapidly.

"Why is he alive, then?" she blurted out, incredulous. "Why didn't you tell me?" she added, now frowning.

"How long were you going to wait to tell me?" he countered, his eyes narrowed. "Remember your place, Bella. I owe you no such requirements."

She bowed her head submissively. "Forgive me, Master," she whispered. "I should have alerted you the instant I learned of his deception."

The Dark Lord fingered his wand briefly, but eventually settled for a long sigh. "You should be thankful your health is still poor, Bella," he cautioned. "Next time I will not be so lenient."

She only bowed slightly in acceptance.

Apparently satisfied, the Dark Lord continued. "Severus may not have told you, but he was the one who approached me with the request to leave Harry Potter alone. I did not know of his true identity at that time. When he allowed me to view his memories others slipped out as well, unbeknownst to him. His shields also fell whenever you were mentioned. His guilt and regret were very potent, indeed."

Bella waited with bated breath, still confused why Severus had been allowed to live.

"I told Severus to bring me Harry Potter partially to test his true loyalties," the Dark Lord explained. "He was simply too valuable of a servant to toss away when I believed he could still be of use. When he brought Hadrian to me, I knew for certain he no longer served Dumbledore. When I learned of my son's dependency on the man, as well as his service to my son, I decided to pardon him." Cold red eyes narrowed dangerously. "He will be punished suitably for his actions, but I have more pressings issues at the moment."

Bella processed this in a daze. She had been so concerned she would have to choose between her service to the Dark Lord and her once lover. Now, it would seem that she no longer had to decide on a path on that fork in the road.

"Should I also pardon him?" Bella whispered. "I went to Azkaban for 13 years. Rodolphous died in there."

The Dark Lord observed her silently, his face half hidden in the shadows so she was unable to see him clearly. "Sometimes," he said slowly, "one cannot truly revel in the joys of victory without first experiencing the pains of sacrifice."

She bowed deeply in farewell, leaving in deep thought.

Was he truly worth all the sacrifices?

A month had passed since the Dark Lord returned from his diplomacy mission. A month in which Harry grew more confident and less concerned his father was going to torture him every time he entered the room.

Within that space of time, occlumency lessons had halted altogether. Until this afternoon. In less than an hour would be his first occlumency training with his father.

His left arm itched just thinking about it. His worst fears, the source of all his doubts, were rooted in these lessons. The book in his hand remained unopened as different scenarios cycled through his mind.

What if he failed? What if the Dark Lord punished him for it? What if he succeeded, but it still wasn't enough? What if the Dark Lord saw something so terrible that he was disowned? What would happen then? Would he return to Dumbledore?

A shudder ran up his spine at the thought. No, he told himself resolutely. He would never follow that dictator again.

Sooner than Harry would have liked, he started making his way to his father's study. The terrible truth of time is it always passes faster when one wills for nothing more than it to stop.

He knocked on the door and entered promptly at his father's voice, willing himself to remain aloof on the outside. What he felt inwardly was an entirely different story.

He glanced around the room, taking in the numerous bookshelves and huge desk with a pensieve standing beside it. Before he could think about the magical object, he concentrated on the figure leaning against the front of the desk.

His father looked sharp, handsome, and powerful, three adjectives that often flashed through his mind when he saw the Dark Lord. He motioned Harry closer, his shrewd eyes observing him carefully.

"Sit, Hadrian," he said calmly.

He did so stiffly.

"I am told the last time you had a lesson you managed to shut out Lucius the first time," the Dark Lord said smoothly. "An impressive feat. What was your center focus?"

"I was flying," Harry said softly.

The Dark Lord nodded as if he expected that answer. "Let's see if you can repeat it, shall we?"

The terror that filled his body was tremendous, but the urge to prove himself also pushed at the back of his mind. Nevertheless, his father was probably the best legilimens in the world. It was only smart of him to feel so afraid.

"Prepare yourself," the Dark Lord cautioned. "I will not push my hardest, but I will not go easy on you. I know you are capable of stopping me."

Harry nodded, feeling encouraged by those words, but his heart still raced in his chest frantically. He still wasn't ready. His father was about to see all his worst memories. What if he saw-

"Legilimency."

Harry tried desperately to focus on flying. The wind rushing by, the peace of being suspending in the quiet sky…

The suddenly he was with Lucius, who was observing his scarred arm in horror.

"Why?" he whispered. "Why would you hurt yourself?"

Harry swallowed, shaking his head rapidly. "I wasn't learning occlumency fast enough," he choked out. "I needed to be punished. My father would have wanted it. I am a disgrace-"

"Don't ever say that," Lucius cut in viciously, but he attempted to compose himself when Harry flinched back at his furious tone. "Your father would always be proud of you. If anything, he would be disappointed that you thought he would want you to hurt yourself."

The Gryffindor shook his head desperately. "Why would he want me if I'm nothing? I'm the reason his wife is dead, he has every right-"

" What ?"

Harry winced at the man's dangerous tone. He hesitated, trembling. "She-she wouldn't leave me when the Order attacked. And so she got captured and-"

"You were a baby," Lucius interrupted in disbelief. "You couldn't have done anything. It wasn't your fault. If anything it was my fault, or your father's fault, or the Death Eater who revealed our location. But at the end of the day, it was Dumbledore who killed her." He took a step closer to Harry, regarding him seriously. "You are not to blame."

Harry fought back tears. "Would she have died if I lived?"

Before Lucius could comfort him in the memory, the Dark Lord pulled out. Furious red eyes glared down at him, the anger radiating from his lean body. Suddenly, his father gripped his arm firmly, and before Harry had time to react he was falling into the pensieve by the desk.

Harry landed awkwardly, but his father's firm hand kept him in place.

They were in a garden, with luscious green and towers of flowers. A younger version of his father sat stiffly on a bench chair, and a beautiful blonde leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Why are we here?" Harry gasped, recognizing the woman instantly. A pang of guilt ran through his body, and he shuddered.

"You have a right to know your mother," his father replied simply, his eyes unmoving from the pair perched on the bench.

"Relax, Tom," the woman said, sitting up and rolling her eyes. "If someone walked by they would think I was your sister, not your wife!"

His father's eyes flickered over, frowning slightly. "You know that we must be careful, Caroline. I have many enemies. I do not like being out in the open."

She raised her eyebrows. "We are in our private garden, darling," she murmured. "Only the inner circle even knows this location and we are surrounded by protective wards and runes you yourself put up." She leaned in to kiss him on the lips, lingering for a long moment. She pulled back, her face inches from his face. "You make me feel safe."

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, but his face was hard and cold.

She sighed. "I know you, Tom. You're still worried, of course."

"It's hard to drag a wife into so much political turmoil," he murmured. "Someday I feel like I will have to choose."

She froze, then pulled back to meet his eyes. He started to kiss her deeply.

The memory suddenly flashed by at a faster pace, to which Harry was eternally grateful. Seeing his parents snog was not the most delightful thing in the world. His eyes, however, remained fixed on his mother, taking her in desperately.

"Tom," she whispered, and for the first time his mother looked scared. "This is the third day in a row I've vomited."

He stiffened. "Are you sick?" he asked quickly, his eyes scanning every inch of her body. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He stood to get up. "I can call for a healer immediately."

She grabbed his arm, pulling him back down. She shook her head, unable to meet his eyes. Realization flooded over his face, and he closed his eyes in shock.

"You're pregnant," he said flatly.

"Yes," she whispered.

He covered his face with his hands, his mind going a million miles per hour. "How far?" he finally managed to inquire.

"5 weeks," she answered quietly.

There was a long pause, and then she hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, but raised his head slowly. He was composed, he was always composed, but she could still feel him shaking.

"You will be a great mother," he murmured.

Then he planted a brief kiss on her surprised lips before rising to his feet.

"I have paperwork," he explained, then hurried off.

The memory shifted quickly, and they now stood in a study much like the one in Slytherin Manor. His father was at his desk, writing furiously on a parchment.

"You didn't want a child," Harry spoke, his eyes unmoving from the younger, but still powerful lord.

The older wizard that stood at his side did not miss the challenging note in his voice, but he remained silent. Before Harry could fire who-knows-what comment at his father, the door swung open.

Caroline stood in the doorway, and she practically glowed in self-righteous anger. She moved forward, her golden hair bouncing behind her. Slamming her hands on his desk, she glared down at her husband.

"It's been three days," she hissed. "You haven't said more than three words at a time to me. You've been locked in this room, only coming to bed when I am fast asleep. You never come out to eat with me. If you truly detest the idea of your wife giving you a child then maybe you are not the man I thought you were when we married. If I must leave, I will. I am having this baby."

Harry watched in amazed awe. His mother was not a push-over in any definition of the word. To her credit, he looked a bit taken aback. Then he rose to his feet deliberately, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Do not presume you know how I feel about this," he said coldly. "How can I want a child right now, at a time like this? When Dumbledore is making every effort to discredit me and hunt me down?"

She relaxed slightly, breathing a sigh of relief. Her sharp green eyes looked at him sadly. "I've know for a week now," she admitted. "I was afraid to tell you because I didn't know if you would want a child, regardless of the war."

He stepped around the desk, reaching to grab her wrists. "I never did want a child," he said quietly, but quickly continued when she deflated. "But the thought of having one with you is much more appealing. In fact, it… pleases me."

She smiled, her eyes dancing. "Just like I please you?" she teased.

He rolled his eyes, but any humor quickly vanished a few seconds after.

"I am scared of this child being in the war, as well," she whispered. "But we can keep it safe."

He released her wrists and turned away. He started to pace, his face a stony mask.

"Tom?" she asked, worried. "There is something else, isn't there?"

He suddenly stopped. She approached him and stepped in front of him fluidly. Staring into her unreadable face, she waited for him to reply.

"What if-" he broke off, and ran his hand through his hair shakily. She blinked at the uncharacteristic nervous motion, but he quickly stopped and steeled himself. "You know I did not have a good childhood," he continued slowly. "I do not know if I can… raise a child as I should."

"Oh, Tom," she breathed, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "You will love this child. I know you will be a great father."

"I am not good with emotion," he said quietly. "And I lose my temper easily. What if… what if I hit the child?"

She sighed, pulling away just enough to see his terrified eyes. "There is no one I trust more to keep us safe," she said softly. "I know you, Tom. I know how much your past abuse hurt you, even if you deny it. You would never do the same to our child."

Harry stiffened. His father had been abused? He glanced over to his right, but his father remained silent.

The younger Dark Lord relaxed slightly at her admission, and then suddenly kissed her gently. "I love you, Caroline Riddle," he whispered. "But you better give me a boy. An heir."

An indignant look flashed across her face. She pulled back, her arms crossed around her torso. "I bet my father said the same thing, Tom Marvolo Riddle," she retorted. "Aren't you glad I'm not a boy?"

He smirked. "Very," he purred.

And their lips met again.

They suddenly were jerked out of the pensieve, and his father regarded him with serious eyes.

"Your mother was ready to leave me for you," he said quietly. "She loved me more than life itself. But even I could not compare to her love for you, Hadrian."

Harry nodded, still processing that thought. Seeing his mother made him actually feel like his father was right. She did not seem to be a woman who did things half-way. His thoughts strayed to the admission of his father being abused, but he decided to tackle that issue another day. For now, there was one thing he desired more.

"Can I see more memories of her?" Harry asked, a bit desperately.

A small smile flashed on his father's face for an instant. "Always."

During breakfast the following morning, the front article in the newspaper shocked Harry to the core. He stared down at a corpse that looked identical to his old appearance, but it was covered in alterations and was mutilated.

The headline said: HARRY POTTER FOUND DEAD! KILLED BY YOU-KNOW-WHO, SAYS DUMBLEDORE.

Harry looked up into his father's angry, but unsurprised eyes. "It would seem that Dumbledore decided your only value was as a political message."

The hands that held the newspaper clenched angrily. Emerald eyes flashed up in renewed determination.

"If he wants a war, then a war he shall get," the young prince promised in his rage. "Harry Potter may be dead, but Hadrian Riddle is very much alive."

Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews! This chapter was my longest yet so be grateful! I am extremely busy so the next chapter may be awhile, I apologize in advance. Hate my professors! Haha :)

I hope I was able to surprise you in this chapter. Both Daphne and Severus had very interesting things to say! The next chapter is the last before the epilogue!

Next chapter: Time skip! Harry Potter is dead, but Hadrian Riddle is very much alive! The Final Battle is approaching quickly, but the Dark Lord has gained support quickly. Hadrian has undergone serious training, and is now more powerful than his father ever imagined. Now an occlumency master, and his scars on his wrists faded, Hadrian has overcome his past fears with his father's help. But when Hadrian and Dumbledore meet, will Hadrian succumb to his past demons?

Note: Next chapter I will no longer refer to our protagonist as "Harry." He is now completely Hadrian Riddle, the Dark Prince.

Any one else just get chills?

Thank you again! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, it motivates me to write faster! ;) Happy reading. :)

Chapter 18

Hello everyone! I apologize for the long wait, been a busy few months. Needless to say, I appreciate the support from all of you who have stuck with me. :)

Quick recap, the main parts of last chapter was Hadrian meeting Hermione, Daphne admitting to past abuse, Bellatrix learning the full truth from Severus, the Dark Lord showing Hadrian memories of his mother during occlumency lessons, and Dumbledore faking Harry Potter's death.

Now, time skip! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter obviously, it belongs to J.K.R. I only have rights to unrecognizable plot and characters.

Three Years Later

The circular room was shrouded by a cloud of excited uneasiness as the many men and women cloaked in black waited for their master. The meeting was unexpected, sudden. They knew only that an important announcement was to be made, one that would change the course of the war.

Hadrian Riddle watched them behind a heavy hood. His emerald eyes scanned the area coolly, only pausing when they rested on the inner circle. His uncles, Lucius Malfoy and Barty Crouch Jr., were in deep conversation, and, next to them, Severus Snape stared forward with a bored expression. Bellatrix Lestrange was whispering in his ear with a sinister smile, attempting to ruffle Severus if Hadrian were to bet. The Dark Prince smirked at the exchange.

In the three years that had passed Hadrian had been trained extensively by these four individuals in areas such as politics, warding, charms, transfiguration, the dark arts, defense studies, and physical combat. Outside of these classes were spent in the presence of his father, in personal study, or with his friends.

Within a year he had mastered both occlumency and legilimency, and during that time he and his father had frequent discussions of his memories. Hadrian remains convinced it had taken the whole year to master the mental arts, despite having the most accomplished teacher in the world, mainly because they often spent the majority of the lessons not practicing the mind arts. When Hadrian brought that up, his father only raised his eyebrows and smirked.

But despite his complaints, Hadrian was eternally grateful to his father and the time he had dedicated to his recovery. He no longer flinched away from his father, or anyone for that matter. The thought of self-harm was out of the question, as he knew his father would promptly murder him, and the desire had lessened over time. Hadrian was more than ready to kill Dumbledore at the first chance he got. Sometimes he was plagued with doubts, usually over his own value or importance, but his father possessed enough arrogance for the both of them.

It had been a challenge. His father was a down-right bastard on the best of days. But he cared, more than anyone had ever cared for him. And Hadrian was constantly reminded by Lucius, Severus, and all his friends that he was loved. All the struggles were worth that satisfaction.

Harry did regret that his recovery had slowed down the progression of the war, although his father rejected his attempt to take the brunt of the blame. His father said he decided to slowly build his army rather than hurry into any direct conflict, as his first downfall was a reminder of how quickly any success can collapse. He gained more allies, including many magical creatures and international leaders. Lord Obolensky was one of three ministers of magic that decided to join in on the fight. Many others had chosen to remain neutral, or to simply provide funds. His father had planned for the future, waiting for his son to be ready at full strength to stand beside him. And, almost exactly three years later, that day had arrived.

From Hadrian's hidden position near the front door, he waited with bated breath for his father to enter the room. A few minutes ticked by before there was movement. The Dark Lord, cloaked in dark green robes, entered the front of the room. He elegantly raised his right hand as his followers all bowed in respect.

"Welcome, my friends," his father began, with all the authority only a born leader could possess. "We continue to grow in number, in strength, and in power in our pursuit toward a better age of wizardry." The Dark Lord paused, his red eyes scanning the cheering masses of followers. His eyes moved to Hadrian's direction. "My followers," he started again, and the noise immediately silenced. "My followers, today we introduce a new member of our movement and an integral part to our success."

Hadrian raised his head, straightened his silver mask, and gracefully walking forward in the empty isle past the rows of followers. He stopped at the foot of the stairs that led up to his expectant father. Hadrian fell to one knee, his head bowed.

"Rise," his father commanded.

Hadrian fluidly stood, his eyes meeting his father's directly before turning to face the crowds.

"In honor of our new member, and the number of other followers who have recently joined us, anyone willing may participate in a dueling competition," his father announced. With a flick of his hand, a dueling bracket appeared in the center of the chamber. Floating in the air, its translucent writing shimmered like a ghost. "All regulation dueling rules apply, with the only restriction being the killing curse. Unnecessary deaths are wasteful." His red eyes narrowed. "You may begin."

Unsurprisingly, Bellatrix was the first to add her name to the floating bracket, flicking her wand briskly to inscribe her name. Barty soon joined her, as well as the remainder of the inner circle. Hadrian watched with interest as many others bravely pitted themselves against the inner circle, particularly the younger followers. When the mass crowds died down, Hadrian approached the board himself. Whispers echoed around him, curious faces watching his movement as he slowly inscribed a name no one but the inner circle would recognize: Hadrian Riddle. He turned with a flourish, his robes flowing behind him as he moved to join the inner circle.

His father transfigured the area in front of his throne from marble stairs to a flat platform. He slowly sat in his gold carved throne, rolling his wand between his thumb and middle fingers.

"Let the dueling begin!" he announced.

Hadrian glanced at the now established bracket. He smirked when he read the name of his first opponent, Barty Crouch. The man in question stood beside him with a grimace. A few duels past and Harry watched them calmly while he waited for his turn. Eventually their names were called. Laughter followed, many commenting loudly on the unbalanced roster. Barty was a renowned fighter, one of the most vicious Death Eaters.

Hadrian jumped onto the platform, grinning viciously behind his mask. The majority of the other duelers had removed their masks, but Hadrian of course would not to protect his identity. He looked too much like his father. Barty stood across from him, trying his best to appear unaffected but Hadrian noticed a sense of resignation. They both bowed from either side of the platform, as is customary, before falling into fighting stance.

Barty fired the first spells. Harry side-stepped the trio of yellow blurs, smirking. He responded with a cutting curse, which Barty promptly deflected. Harry moved to the attack, firing a mixture of curses at his former instructor. Barty rapidly shielded himself, gritting his teeth when the power of Hadrian's blasting spell destroyed his shield. Barty attempted to catch him by surprise within the following five minutes, electing on defending first and then countering, but one well-aimed stunner blew by his shield.

Hadrian lowered his wand to a silenced crowd, amused by their astonishment. He stepped down from the platform elegantly as a nearby Death Eater removed the stunner from Barty.

Severus and Lucius both battled within the next few matches and easily defeated their opponents. Bellatrix, with her characteristic wild mane and even crazier expression, knocked a young man off the platform with one precise strike.

It was now Harry's turn again. He moved towards the platform, but stopped when a body shoved into him. Bored, he turned to face his opposition: Dolohov.

"Beating Crouch was luck, you filthy little half-blood," he hissed.

Hadrian observed him silently for a few moments before climbing up onto the platform. He was unsurprised that Dolohov assumed he was a half-blood. Riddle, after all, was a muggle name. Hadrian smirked. If only Dolohov knew who he was really insulting. His eyes flickered over to his father briefly before he prepared himself to fight.

" Imperio! " Dolohov hissed, completely skipping over the pleasantries of bowing.

Hadrian made no effort to move, allowing the spell to wash over him. Dolohov was known for his expertise at this particular curse, and Hadrian had planned he would use it. So predictable. Dolohov grinned in triumph, oblivious to his failure in gaining control.

"Not so tough now, are you?" he mocked. "Get on your knees and bow to me."

Hadrian moved as if he were fighting the curse, but inside remained calm and collected.

" Crucio," the Dark Prince whispered.

Dolohov, in his surprise, was unable to avoid the torture curse. He fell with a scream, twisting in pain on the ground. Harry slowly approached him, calling the man's wand to him silently, and quickly cancelled the spell as he caught the object in his other hand.

He never liked that curse, mostly because of how often it had been used on him, but he reserved it for certain occasions. For example, any insult directed toward his father.

Dolohov remained on the ground, shaking, as Harry threw the man's wand back to him.

"Come now. I'm sure it didn't hurt that bad," Hadrian mocked. "After all, I am just a filthy half-blood."

It was the first time Hadrian had really spoken, and the nearby Death Eaters stiffened at his biting words. Others stared at him in shock for another reason - he sounded younger than they expected.

Hadrian stalked off the stage, smirking when he noticed a gleam of approval on his father's face. Some of the closer Death Eaters looked away as he walked by, afraid to meet his eyes. Fear, he realized. Just like his father.

The next matches were a blur. Harry and the inner circle quickly destroyed all competition. A few of the young followers endured throughout the majority of the tournament, but finally only four remained: Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Hadrian.

Hadrian noticed Severus relax slightly when he was set to face Lucius rather than Bellatrix or himself. Bellatrix smirked at him, subtly squeezing his hand when she thought no one would notice. Harry and his godfather exchanged amused looks.

The duel between Lucius and Severus was exhilarating. Lucius displayed extraordinary technical abilities, even transfiguring a large wolf near the middle of the battle. Severus, on the other hand, exhibited raw power. With a flick of his wand, the wolf was beheaded. The duel could have gone either way. In fact, Hadrian had witnessed both win on numerous occasions. Severus and Lucius were like brothers and often practiced against each other. Today, Lucius held the bragging rights. The blonde had subtly edged the Potions Master closer and closer to the edge and, after a wide array of spells, blasted him with a torrent of water. The Slytherin Head of House was knocked against a nearby wall, disqualified for falling out of bounds.

Hundreds of eyes then turned to the most powerful witch in the Dark Lord's army, and perhaps his most devoted, and on Hadrian, the young newcomer who has demonstrated astonishing skill.

"I apologize, Bella, but I'm afraid I'm about to ruin your reputation," Hadrian whispered to her, grinning behind his mask. "No hard feelings."

She smirked. "Cockiness becomes you, my prince," she murmured.

They parted to take their positions on either side of the platform. They bowed briefly before both launching in a long chain of spells. Hadrian rolled to his left to avoid a blasting curse, his eyes narrowed as he responded silently with a burst of fire. Bellatrix quickly countered the fire with water, sweating as the fire started to slowly overcome the water. When she could practically taste the heat, she saw no other option but to cancel her spell and jump to her right. The fire flew past her like a rocket, and she was barely able to stand before Hadrian fired a stunner at her. Twisting out of the way, she responded with a combination of cutting curses and torture curses. The Dark Prince shielded himself swiftly, but was forced to dodge when a cutting curse slipped past his shield. He gripped his left arm, his hand soaked in blood. She hesitated for a split second before moving to cast a stunner, but she suddenly found herself falling. In the next instant she was disarmed, and she looked down to see the ground below her covered in ice.

She grinned. Sneaky. He must have silently turned the water to ice when she was distracted by the blood.

He tossed her wand back to her as she climbed to her feet. Immediately after he quietly turned his wand toward his shoulder and the gash slowly began to close. The blood was vanished the next instant, and the only remainder of the injury was a ruined set of robes.

Hadrian turned to the watching Death Eaters, smirking at their stunned silence. He had to applaud his father for this idea. Certainly, it has gained him respect.

Lucius replaced Bella on the platform, trying his best to remain composed. He offered his godson a small nod, clearly impressed by his sly tactic over the sharp Bellatrix. They bowed, but unlike Bellatrix they both waited, observing each other carefully.

Lucius had been his main instructor when the Dark Lord was absent. As such, they knew the other's tactics as well as they knew their own.

"Well, shall we begin?" Lucius murmured.

And, with that, the duel started. After trading a series of blows, both to no success, Lucius transfigured and threw numerous boulders at Hadrian. With a flick of his wand, Hadrian turned the boulders into dust and quickly directed it towards the blonde. He followed the dust up with numerous spells and curses, hoping to catch Lucius off guard. He caught his godfather with a small burst of fire, but Lucius managed to avoid all but a minor burn on his leg. Deciding to show off to his godfather, Hadrian transfigured a large cobra, smirking.

" Attack, my friend," Hadrian hissed, waving his wand to place protective spells on the creature. " Don't bite or kill the man, but intimidate him ."

Gasps echoed around the hall at the parseltongue but Hadrian tuned all their whispers out. He had a match to win.

The snake slithered to his target, who watched the snake with narrowed eyes. Lucius attempted to both banish and slice the snake, but Hadrian's protective spells held true. With the snake in striking position, Lucius stepped closer and closer to the edge. In his distracted state it was simple for Hadrian to summon his wand. Hadrian banished the snake, smirking at his victory.

Applause erupted in the room, and Hadrian bowed elegantly to the impressed Death Eaters. Some simply stared in shock, amazed to see the inner circle wiped away by a new member. Suddenly the room was silenced, and Hadrian turned to see his father approaching him. He bowed his head briefly before straightening to meet his father's approving gaze.

"Shall we let them in on my secret then?" Hadrian whispered, a hint of amusement in his voice.

The Dark Lord fought back a smirk as he looked away and raised his head high. Anticipation bubbled around the room as the hundreds of witches and wizards waited for their lord to speak.

"My followers, I am pleased to introduce to you my son and heir, Hadrian Marvolo Slytherin!"

Hadrian removed his mask with a flourish, his emerald eyes coldly surveying the crowd. Gasps echoed around as they examined this young man who looked almost identical to their Dark Lord.

"All hail the Dark Prince! All hail the Dark Lord!" Lucius called out, falling to his knees.

Hadrian watched as the hosts of Death Eaters followed suit, falling in submission to their new young lord. His head held high, he turned to look at his father.

This is where he belongs, and this is who he is - the Dark Prince.

"I heard the coronation went well," Daphne murmured, running her hand down his arm absently as she curled into his side on the armchair. A fire danced nearby, warming them during the chilling winter day.

Hadrian smiled, his eyes trailing over her porcelain skin. "Yes, very well," he agreed. "I wish you could have seen their faces." He laughed lightly at the thought.

She grinned. "I can imagine. And I cannot wait to join in the fight against Dumbledore and his pathetic band of muggle-loving sheep."

Hadrian grinned before kissing her lightly on the lips. She responded eagerly, but then suddenly pulled back. He raised his eyebrows.

"Even if I'm not marked, I plan on fighting with you at the Final Battle," she said seriously. "You know that, right?"

Part of him wanted to scream for her to stay and be safe, but he knew better than to suggest that. "I would have no better fighting partner," he whispered in her ear.

She smiled against his neck, pleased. "I was worried you would insist that we all sat out."

"You are all a stubborn group, and I know you can handle yourself. But I expect you to increase your training before that day comes."

"Of course," the blonde murmured, her eyes gleaming in excitement. "Do you think your father will lessen your own training so you can train us yourself?"

Hadrian laughed. "Unlikely, but I can try to be persuasive."

"You're very good at that," Daphne admitted.

"Learned from the best," Hadrian quipped. "With Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, Bellatrix Lestrange, and the Dark Lord as your instructors it's hard not to be."

Daphne grinned. "Well, do you think you could persuade Lucius to give you the rest of the afternoon off so I don't have to go home?"

Hadrian raised his eyebrows, thinking rapidly, and a plan began to formulate in his mind. "I'll see what I can do."

It turns out Hadrian did have the afternoon off when Nagini somehow got to Malfoy Manor and started to create panic and havoc. Lucius was too knackered afterwards to suspect Hadrian, but the Dark Lord eyed him knowingly the following day when he heard.

"Hadrian, I admire the cunning," his father said seriously, "but I do not condone you skipping your training. Miss Greengrass will be here after the war. For now you must focus on what is truly important."

Hadrian nodded sheepishly in agreement, but there was a glint of concern in his normally confident expression. "Father," he began hesitantly, "what if I am killed? What about my friends? What if now is all the time we have left?"

The Dark Lord raised his eyebrows. "You best not talk like that around them," he cautioned. "You are not simply their friend. As my son, naturally you will also have the burden of being their leader. Your confidence becomes their confidence, but your fear also becomes their fear. Hadrian, be careful how you voice your concern, unless it is around myself."

Hadrian nodded his understanding, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed.

As if sensing this, his father calmly placed a hand on his shoulder. "I have complete faith in you, as do your friends. There is a reason I am going to allow you to train them. If you remain confident in their skills, they will also feel confident." He took a deep breath, his red eyes suddenly piercing. "Hadrian, you must mentally accept the possibility of casualties, as it is a war." His father held out his free hand to stop him from interrupting. "But in this next month you will be able to help them fully prepare. You must put aside all personal feelings when you train them and do not hold back. The minute the training starts you are no longer their friend, but instead their leader. Do this and they will be as prepared as they can be."

Hadrian thoughtfully considered what his father had said before slowly nodding. "Very well," he said quietly. "I trust your judgment. I will do as you say."

The Dark Lord's lips curved up slightly. "Good, good." He paused, thoughtfully eyeing his son. His red gaze fell on a gold locket hanging around his neck. "And something tells me you will not have to worry about losing your own life, Hadrian," he said slowly. "If the time comes that you are in severe danger, I will know."

Before Hadrian could ask how, the Dark Lord fluidly moved past him. The dark-haired prince watched his father leave thoughtfully, a sinking suspicious settling within his stomach. He gripped the locket, his brain racing with possible answers.

He spent the remainder of his free time that day in the library, as well as the rest of his free time the whole week. Hermione would have been proud.

"Hadrian, come in."

The black-haired young man pushed open the door of his father's office and promptly plopped down on the black arm chair in front of his father's desk. His father looked up from piles of paper with a single eyebrow raised.

Hadrian followed the lord's pointed gaze and smirked at his feet on his father's desk.

"Perhaps you need more lessons from Narcissa on etiquette, hmm?"

Rapidly, Hadrian pulled his feet off the desk. "No need," he said quickly. Quickly, he dusted off the table with his hand. "See, all good?"

His father smirked. "Using her as a threat is always effective. I don't know how Lucius manages to be married to the woman."

Hadrian coughed, incredulous. "He's worse than she is!" he exclaimed.

"Indeed." His father chuckled. "Now what is it you wanted?"

Hadrian suddenly stiffened, a solemn frown replacing his amused smirk. He slowly reached under his robes to grab his recent Christmas present, and he raised the locket carefully. Realization flooded over the Dark Lord's face as he observed the Slytherin heirloom.

"I wondered how long it would take you," he murmured.

"I was sure of it this morning, but I've suspected for months," Hadrian murmured. "You did, after all, almost tell me when I first arrived here. I'm surprised you never did say it."

The Dark Lord watched his son carefully. "And I am equally surprised you never asked," he replied simply. "It didn't pose any danger, and we had other concerns at the time. I didn't feel it was necessary to burden you with any more worries."

"The fact that I have part of my father's soul in my body is not really something I would label unnecessary," Hadrian spoke evenly, but his emerald eyes were narrowed. "And giving me this-" he broke off, motioning to the locket angrily. "How could you give me so much responsibility without even telling me? I cannot even fathom the idea of having lost it, or-"

"I have complete faith in you, my son," the Dark Lord interrupted calmly, completely relaxed despite Hadrian's burst of anger. "I trust no one more with such a delicate object." He suddenly smirked. "Plus, I've seen you eyeing it for weeks now. You wanted the Slytherin locket from the moment you saw it. You would never lose it."

"It's because the locket horcrux knows I have one in me too," Hadrian admitted through gritted teeth. "I could never understand my fascination with the darn trinket until now."

The Dark Lord nodded slightly, his fingers drumming the table as he waited for Hadrian to continue.

"It just makes so much sense now," Hadrian breathed, closing his eyes in thought. "Seeing visions of you, feeling your emotions… and vice versa."

"It may be possible to remove it, if you would rather-"

"What?" Hadrian exclaimed, interrupting his father in his shock. "Father, this is a piece of your soul we are talking about. I would never discard it like a pair of old socks!"

"Hadrian, you are my son," he said softly, his amber eyes deadly serious. "My studies show that you most likely would have no negative reaction with the horcrux within you, but there is still a chance it may affect your health."

Hadrian straightened, his emerald eyes fearlessly meeting his father's gaze. "I lasted seventeen years, three of those in your presence. I refuse to allow any action until it proves dangerous."

The Dark Lord observed his son for a long moment before finally nodding his acceptance. "Very well, Hadrian. I will do more research on it, of course, and if I have any concerns I will take action immediately."

"No, you are far too busy with preparations," the dark-haired prince protested. "It's unnecessary, surely-"

"You are the most important part of this war," the Dark Lord rebutted, a frown settling over his aristocratic face. "I thought you recognized that by now."

Hadrian sighed, knowing better than to argue but still frustrated over monopolizing more of his father's limited time.

"I'll expect you to assist me, of course," the Dark Lord added.

Hadrian nodded grudgingly, relieved that his father at least would allow him to help. "Of course, Father." He stood suddenly. "I will start immediately, as soon as I finish practicing my de-warding training." He bowed gracefully, but stopped when the Dark Lord raised a hand for him to stop.

"Stay, Hadrian," he said firmly. "You may finish your work later tonight. For now, I would like your opinion on a few of the details for the attack."

Hadrian obeyed, inwardly pleased for his father's trust, and he listened carefully as the Dark Lord started to discuss the upcoming battle. The only indication of their earlier conversation was Hadrian's constant fingering of the Slytherin locket.

Protecting the horcrux in the locket, as well as within his own body, was the most important mission of all.

The next three weeks passed quickly until the day arrived for the attack on Hogwarts. Hadrian slowly pulled on his pitch black robes, but he left the silver mask in the dresser.

Today, there would be no hiding his true appearance.

Taking a deep breath, he reached for the Slytherin Locket, which he had never removed since he had received it. Slowly, he pulled the locket over his head and placed it next to his Death Eater mask. He would not risk the locket falling into the wrong hands if he was captured or killed in today's battle.

The thought of dying should have scared him, as he was about to enter battle, but he was confident in their victory. And he would do anything in his power to live. He did not want to die. And he also realized that his death would most likely result in the destruction of the horcrux within him. Yes, he must survive this battle.

His eyes swept his room one last time, recalling the first time he had entered its walls. So much had changed in the space of three years. Taking a deep breath, he walked through the door, only to be met by a group of familiar faces.

Hadrian stopped at the sight of Daphne, Draco, Theo, Blaise, Pansy, and Hermione.

"Ready?" Draco drawled, smirking as he twirled his wand between his fingers.

"I thought you were meeting us at Hogwarts," Hadrian replied, raising his eyebrows. "Has something gone wrong? Why have you breached protocol?"

"We wanted to face this together," Hermione said, releasing her hold on Theo's hand as she stepped forward confidently. Her almond eyes blazed with passion as they met Hadrian's respectfully.

Hadrian knew full well that they were waiting for his permission. Today, he was no longer their friend but their commander, just as it had been in training.

Hadrian finally nodded his acceptance after a long minute of silence. "Very well," he said seriously. "Come. My father is waiting."

The Great Hall of Hogwarts buzzed with noise as the students began eating their evening meal. Albus Dumbledore observed his students thoughtfully, taking note of the absence of most of the seventh year Slytherins. How very suspicious.

He turned to his left to meet the cold ebony gaze of his Potions Master, Severus Snape. "Do you happen to know where your Seventh Year students are, Severus?"

Snape raised a single eyebrow, his emotionless face examining the Slytherin table. "I'm afraid not, Headmaster," he said coolly. "But they will be dealt with, I assure you."

"Of course, Severus," Dumbledore agreed calmly, but a small frown settled over his face.

Something was not right. He could feel it in his magic. He glanced over at his spy, opening his mouth to begin a round of questioning on Riddle's latest movements, when he felt the shift in the atmosphere.

The high-pitched blare suddenly silenced the Great Hall as students clutched their ears in panic. Screams echoed the hall, the students in a panic over the painful noise that seemed to be reverberating within their own heads. Dumbledore fought against the foreign magic, attempting to stand to calm the students, when a voice cut through the high-pitched buzz. The students stilled in fear.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," the cool and commanding voice Dumbledore recognized instantly began. "I am Lord Slytherin, the Dark Lord. As your Headmaster would have you believe, I wish to massacre all innocents within your school. Your Headmaster lies. " The last phrase reverberated around the hall eerily as Dumbledore furiously tried to block the incoming magic with no avail. "I do not want to spill magical blood, pure or not. I do not want to kill you. For those who wish to stand against us, any efforts of fighting are futile. Choose to be neutral, and we will spare your lives. Choose to be neutral, and Magical Britain will once again rise to its full glory. You have an hour to decide."

Albus Dumbledore rose in a furious rage, his aura flaring around him at the audacity of his former student. He spun to accuse his former spy who had clearly betrayed him, but Severus Snape was gone.

He, Albus Dumbledore, had been completely and utterly fooled.

The anticipation was sending thrills down his spine as Hadrian stood confidently next to his father on the crest of land hanging luminously over the Black Lake. In their eye of sight was the mighty castle of Hogwarts, standing in the shadow of the falling sun. Hadrian impatiently turned back to face the sea of followers, buzzing with a mixture of nerves, fear, and excitement as he waited for his father to begin the attack. Close to him was the Inner Circle, as well as their children. Daphne raised her head, meeting his gaze with an arrogant smirk.

Abnormal silence hung in the air as the army waited for their lord. Hadrian watched curiously as his father stared with great intensity into the depths of the ebony lake. The Dark Lord suddenly threw off his heavy hood and also turned to face the crowd of followers. With all the authority only a born leader could possess, he started to speak.

"Today marks a new age, where our war efforts reach their height. Our children will remember this day and the following days for years to come, and our triumph over the corruption of our opposition will be recorded in the pages of our history." The Dark Lord paused, his red eyes gleaming as they scanned the enthralled mass of followers. His eyes met Hadrian's momentarily before moving back to stare into the crowd. "Today, we attack the symbol of Dumbledore's power. Today, we attack Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

A chill ran down Hadrian's spine as his father spun around, wand out, and blasted the wards of Hogwarts with an enormous power that buckled the ward momentarily. Hadrian raised his own wand, frantically joining his father's efforts by beginning the de-warding process with the Inner Circle.

Within minutes, the ancient protective wards of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry fell under the combined magic of the most powerful wizards and witches of the century.

Hadrian took a deep breath as his father gave the cue to begin disapparating.

Today, he would finally face Albus Dumbledore, and the true nature of Dumbledore would be revealed. Today, he would put an end to the horrors that had haunted him for 17 years.

Meeting his father's intense gaze, and receiving a firm nod in approval, Hadrian apparated to the grounds of the place he used to call home.

IMPORTANT AN: There ends chapter 17! I promised 17 chapters and an epilogue but I was unable to condense all of my material into this last chapter. Thus, you all get an extra unplanned chapter, number 18! I hope to have the next installment out within a few weeks. Thank you all for your lovely reviews, and I hope you enjoyed this last chapter. Please comment! :)

Next chapter: The Final Battle has finally arrived, but will their preparations be enough? Hadrian faces Dumbledore and a few old faces, the truth is revealed, and a shocking discovery is made that will change Hadrian's future forever!

Until next time… happy reading! :)

Chapter 19

Hello to you all! I must admit that this is the hardest chapter I have had to write. I never imagined a battle scene would be so difficult, and I must admit action isn't my forte, but I am satisfied with how the chapter turned out. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Belongs to J.K.R., only own unrecognizable plot. Some content heavily based off of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Warnings: mentions of torture and abuse, killing and violence, nothing overly explicit

Hadrian landed on the courtyard outside the towering walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before he had time to blink off the effects of apparation, he sidestepped a purple spell that came hurtling toward him. With a flourish, he turned to face Ponoma Sprout, one of his old Hogwarts teachers. Within a minute he had the woman stunned, seeing no reason to harm her permanently.

Although this was a war and casualties were necessary, he respected the woman and did not wish for her to die. She, like many others, did not know all the facts. Soon, the truth would be known and they would come to accept it.

Hadrian took in his surroundings, trying to spot the white beard of Albus Dumbledore, to no avail. The courtyard and nearby areas were crowded with Death Eaters and Order members. The numbers were fairly even between the two sides, much to Hadrian's displeasure.

The second wave of attack, however, had yet to come.

As if on cue, a mighty roar erupted from the far left as a mass amount of magical creatures and allied wizards and witches started their attack from the flank.

Hadrian was able to blast away a few Order members in the confusion of the increasing dark army. A grim smile tugged on Hadrian's lips as he noticed more and more light supporters appearing on the scene as well. Wasting no time, the Dark Prince fell into a dueling rhythm, seriously injuring and eliminating any threat, but simply stunning any he deemed as too young or innocent to the manipulations of Albus Dumbledore.

The next two hours passed in a confusing haze. All of his training had prepared him, but the adrenaline rush was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Although the light side was fighting valiantly, they were falling to the sheer numbers of the Dark Lord's forces. As they had planned weeks ago, his father and other key leaders were slowly forcing the remaining resistance into the enclosed area of the courtyard. Although Hadrian had yet to see his father, his scar told him that his father was safe. Most likely, the Dark Lord was trying to find the Headmaster, something Hadrian was likely to do himself very soon once the resistance here was defeated.

Ducking behind the fallen carcass of a giant spider, Hadrian fired off a blasting curse at a nearby light supporter he did not recognize. With a sudden urge to duck, Hadrian trusted his instincts and fell flat to the ground.

He rose and spun around to face his old Head of House, Professor McGonagall. Her hair up in the classic tight bun, and her face stern, she began her attack against him with great technique and ferocity. Hadrian only had a moment to hesitate before he launched into the defense. Raising a powerful shield, he absorbed the series of blasting and cutting curses. Expertly, he retaliated with a powerful water spell, which threw her in the air when it hit its mark. Quickly, he ran to where she landed and held her at wandpoint. With great dignity despite her soaked state, she met his eyes coolly, awaiting her death. A look of puzzlement crossed her face momentarily as she gazed into his emerald eyes.

"Do I know you?" she asked with a chilling calmness only age could bring in such a situation.

"Yes." The single word burned as it came out. After a pause, he added, "You once knew me very well, Professor." He wished he knew whether she had known the Headmaster's plans. Recognizing his lack of time for conversation, he silently stunned his old professor, unable to kill her due to the slight chance of her not knowing the truth.

When he reentered the fray, his eyes still searching for his old mentor, he was once again disappointed. Instead, he spotted his once godfather in heated battle with his actual godfather Lucius Malfoy. For a moment his heart stopped, but he quickly came to his senses. He sprinted across the courtyard, diving under different spells and jumping over bodies. He came to a stop at the side of the battle, watching as Lucius attempted to defend against the man's ferocious attacks.

"Do you even care that your master killed my godson?" Sirius screamed furiously. "How could you follow such a monster? What if it had been your son?"

Although Lucius remained impassive, Hadrian could tell he wanted to answer. Before he himself knew what he was doing, Hadrian jumped between the two of them. Sirius eyed him in confusion, which quickly shifted into hatred.

"A little young to be a Death Eater, don't you think?" Sirius snarled, raising his wand.

"Your Godson is alive, Sirius Black," Hadrian replied, with one hand raised in a calming motion, although the other clutched his wand tightly.

"I SAW HIS MARRED BODY BY THE HANDS OF YOUR MASTER! HOW DARE YOU-"

"I speak the truth!" Hadrian interrupted loudly. "Harry Potter was not killed!"

"Hadrian-"

The Dark Prince pushed away his uncle, his gaze still focused on his former godfather. Until now, Hadrian had been uncertain on whether or not Sirius had known Dumbledore's true intentions. It would seem he finally had his answer. Sirius Black truly cared for Harry Potter, even if he had been blind to the nature of his leader, Albus Dumbledore.

With his attention on the furious state of Sirius Black, it took the dark-haired wizard a moment to notice that much of the fighting had stilled as they listened to this conversation. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself to reveal the truth that had been hidden from everyone but his closest companions for the last three years. Hopefully his father would understand why he was choosing to break the news of his identity earlier than decided.

"I swear on my magic that what I about to say is the truth!" Hadrian declared loudly, his eyes surveyed the growing crowd. He spotted his friends close by, although he still did not see his father. Pushing away his concern momentarily, he took a deep breath. "My name was once Harry James Potter."

Gasps echoed around the scene. Their savior, the image of the light side and the symbol of what they were fighting for, was actually alive?

"Liar!" screamed a nearby middle-aged woman he did not recognize. "This man looks nothing like Harry Potter!"

Similar yells echoed around the room, although many remained silent as they considered the oath he had made. Sirius stared at Hadrian with a mixture of anger, disbelief, and betrayal.

"You are not my godson," he said coldly. "Harry would never join Voldemort, the man who murdered his parents."

Before Hadrian could explain, his magic suddenly flared in shock as a presence he knew very well suddenly appeared. The double doors of the castle slammed open, and out stepped Headmaster Albus Dumbledore from the chaos of the fighting within the castle walls. A murderous expression controlled his usual grandfather mask, and his magic flared in response. For a moment, the Harry Potter side of the Dark Prince wanted to recoil in fear. Quickly squashing that urge, Hadrian straightened and deliberately raised his head as he defiantly faced his old mentor.

"This boy uses dark magic to try to convince you of a lie," the Headmaster spoke loudly, his voice echoing the courtyard. "Do not be deceived, my friends. This boy is no ally of ours, but is the son of Lord Voldemort himself!"

Gasps echoed around the crowd at the revelation of Hadrian's birthright, confirming some of their suspicions due to their similar appearance.

"Together we will defeat this evil!" announced Dumbledore.

Any hesitation that the crowd previously displayed was clearly gone as cheers erupted from the light followers. Fury was on the face of every enemy it seems, and it was all directed toward him. Hadrian stiffened and warily eyed his surroundings, but he quickly turned back to face Dumbledore.

"I'm afraid, my boy, that your clever little ploy is over," Dumbledore declared, parting the crowd as he crossed the courtyard to come closer to his former student. "Perhaps you need to be… punished for your actions."

With the icy gaze turned on him once again, and with the chilling words that struck him like a dagger from the past, Hadrian momentarily froze. As if counting on that, Dumbledore quickly fired the killing curse at his old pupil. For a moment he was stunned as he watched the green light head in his direction, deaf to the screams from his friends and relatives. He stood motionless until a voice inside him screamed for him to move, his scar burning slightly. With a sudden realization, Hadrian rolled rapidly to his right, barely escaping the green curse as it hit the wall behind them. Rising to his feet, his emerald eyes sparked in rage as he faced his opponent.

He would not die by the hands of the manipulative, controlling, and downright evil Albus Dumbledore today. No longer did that old man have any claim on him.

The Dark Prince turned his wand toward Dumbledore, smirking at the surprised expression on the Headmaster's face. Hadrian blocked out the divided crowd of dark and light followers that were anticipating the duel, as well as the loud sounds of warfare from far off, and abruptly began the duel he had waited three years for. A series of torture and killing curses were emitted from his wand, all of which Dumbledore quickly had attempted to shield against by conjuring numerous walls. However, the quick succession of killing curses forced the Headmaster to ungracefully jump to the side before responding in kind.

If Albus Dumbledore had been told three years ago that Harry Potter would be his match he would have laughed. His former pupil had done his bidding mindlessly, as well as fearfully, and he had possessed little magical training to speak of. The man that was expertly dueling the Headmaster now, however, was clearly not the same young, naive Gryffindor. He had been replaced by Hadrian Marvolo Slytherin, the son of the Dark Lord.

Dumbledore levitated a nearby giant boulder, and swiftly directed it at Hadrian. His target, knowing that Dumbledore would quickly fire spells at him the moment he tried to block the boulder, as well as recognizing he could not deflect it due to the nearby people, made a different split second decision. The crowds watched in astonishment as Hadrian suddenly shot up through the air rapidly, narrowly avoiding the crushing boulder. The Dark Prince floated in the air above the boulder, smirking at the awed atmosphere. He would have to thank his father again for teaching him how to fly with magic.

Dumbledore hissed angrily, furious as he watched his old pupil slowly descend back to the battlefield. The old wizard knew all too well the benefits of inspiring the masses, and Hadrian had done just that by demonstrating his ability to wandlessly levitate himself - a skill Dumbledore himself had never mastered because it was a well-kept secret known only to the Slytherin line. The Headmaster realized Hadrian could have simply apparated away, but had instead chosen the theatrical simply because he had known it would demonstrate his power. And power was everything in this world.

Suddenly, Hadrian fired a blasting curse, and Dumbledore's wand shook under the strength of the blast as he attempted to block it with his own. Quickly, Dumbledore severed his own spell and jumped to his right to respond by knocking a nearby pillar over. Hadrian, fully aware of his surroundings, shielded himself from the falling pillar and sidestepped the cutting curse Dumbledore suddenly fired. While dodging he returned the favor, catching part of Dumbledore's side. The old wizard gripped his glazed side in both shock and pain. Staring at his now blood-stained hand from the shallow wound, a sinking feeling settled within the older wizard as the possibility of losing to the boy became more and more probable.

"You fight with the same ferocity as your mother," Dumbledore suddenly said, breaking the silence between them and hoping to distract his opponent. "I wish I could say she would've been proud of you, but I'm afraid I must not tell you a lie."

Fire burned in Hadrian's veins at the old wizard's words. "How dare you mention my mother to me!" he answered furiously. "How dare you pretend that you still have any say in my life! You, who tortured me for hours for pure amusement, and trained me to kill my own father! I never deserved any of it! I was an innocent child!" By the end of his accusation, his voice fell to an exhausted whisper. Despite the soft speech, his words were heard by every person in the courtyard, and his flaring magic was physically felt by all those listening.

Despite the crowd's shocked response, Dumbledore made no move to deny it. He stared coldly back, his blue gaze glittering in amusement as he smirked at the Dark Prince. "The Devil himself was never more guilty," Dumbledore replied boldly, his fake a mask of grandfatherly sorrow. "I'm afraid, my boy, that you were merely given what you deserved."

"No, Dumbledore," Hadrian managed to reply calmly, although he was quaking with unyielding loathing. "You are the one who deserves to suffer for their actions."

The Headmaster remained silent, and they eyed each other warily as they waited for the battle to continue. A sudden shift in energy level forced them both to stop. Hadrian felt his father's presence before he saw him. His left hand immediately gripped his burning scar, momentarily overcome by the crushing fury his father was emitting.

With a cool, raging power accompanying him, the Dark Lord suddenly entered the courtyard. His red eyes narrowed as he stepped forward to stand beside his son. His aristocratic features sharpened in his cold fury, and with great dignity he surveyed the crowds until his gaze locked with Dumbledore.

"How good of you to join us, Tom," Dumbledore said patronizingly. "We were just discussing your son's many disappointments."

"Enough, Dumbledore," the Dark Lord commanded with great force. "Your followers have fallen and your resistance has crumbled." He motioned to the right where the three dozen remaining Order members stood, many of them sporting injuries. "Your demise is inevitable. Surrender now and I may spare your life for a few more hours while you answer to your crimes."

"My only crime was not killing you and your devil spawn sooner," Dumbledore snarled, his expression morphing into an ugly sneer.

The Dark Lord's gaze did not leave his nemesis as he ordered Hadrian to move aside. Hadrian snorted.

"I'd sooner die than let you fight him without me, Father," Hadrian answered calmly. "We finish this together."

A proud smirk emerged on the Dark Lord's face, and they both fell into a dueling stance. The Headmaster wavered for a moment, clearly unprepared to fight both of them at once.

"Fools!" the old man screamed, appearing a bit maniacal. "I am the greatest wizard that ever lived! Even together you are no match for me!"

"We will see," Hadrian murmured, "won't we?"

Dumbledore began to wave his wand in a series of complex motions, and Hadrian watched warily as huge phoenix comprised of fire was formed. Quickly, father and son combined their own magic to create a huge snake comprised of water, which instantly countered the phoenix. The battle between the two elements was easily won by Hadrian and the Dark Lord, much to Dumbledore's displeasure.

Hadrian grinned viciously, raising his wand high above his head as he awaited the next attack.

Daphne Greengrass watched her closest confidante and lover in all his glory as he stood powerfully in silence next to his father, both biding their time while Dumbledore stood on the far side. Although Hadrian's battle attire was covered in rubble, blood, and grime, Daphne was certain he had never looked more elegant. The wind rustled his hair, suddenly revealing his trademark lightning scar. Directly across from her, on the other side of the battlefield, stood two figures who were also suddenly aware of that same scar. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin exchanged uncertain glances, which caused a slight smile to break the icy persona Daphne was displaying.

Perhaps these two Order members were not entirely oblivious after all. Once the anger had passed, Sirius Black looked a lot more unconvinced than previously.

Before Daphne could think more on the matter, a sudden intake of breath by Hermione beside her pulled her gaze back to the battle. Although she always found Hadrian handsome and royal, he was absolutely awe-inspiring and enchanting in battle. His movements were fluid, graceful, and precise. Next to his father, their emanating magic was so powerful it caused the air around them to feel heavy. Daphne took a deep breath, soaking in the magic as she watched the Headmaster and the Dark Royalty continue to trade blows to no avail.

One thing, however, was certain if the faltering movements of the Headmaster were any indication: Albus Dumbledore would soon fall to the joint power of the Dark Lord and Dark Prince.

It would seem, however, that fate had something much more different in store. Daphne watched, as if in slow motion, as a trail of self-inflicted fire suddenly encircled Dumbledore. The Dark Lord and Hadrian stilled in their attacking movements momentarily at the sight. Suddenly the fire cleared, but the sight that greeted her was much more alarming.

Dumbledore held a struggling woman to his side, his wand pressed into her long, unkept hair. Daphne could not tell from this distance if it was dirty blonde or simply filthy. If the state of the woman was to go by, particularly her ragged robes, she would guess the latter. The woman was a skeleton, but despite her obvious poor health she still attempted to fight off Dumbledore, much to Daphne's approval. The blond Slytherin thought the woman looked vaguely familiar, but she wasn't close enough to know for certain. A sinking suspicion began to settle within her, but she pushed it away. That was impossible.

But the look on Hadrian's face made Daphne reconsider. His emerald eyes were alit with pure shock, his wand lowering slightly as he turned anxiously to his father. The Dark Lord remained frozen, his face fighting for composure as he surveyed his enemy and the captive. Daphne had never seen the lord in such a state before.

"Do you not recognize your wife, Tom?" Dumbledore suddenly spoke cruelly, breaking the jarring silence. "After all this time, I thought you would be a little more excited to see her!"

Gasps echoed around the courtyard from both sides. Daphne's heart stuttered, and her gaze whipped from the so-called Caroline Riddle to her boyfriend and his father. Hadrian was visibly shaking, while the Dark Lord remained utterly still.

"That is not my wife," the Dark Lord finally said, his voice chillingly cold. "She is dead. You killed her."

"Just like I killed your son, right?" Dumbledore drawled.

The Dark Lord's face flashed with fury at the patronizing statement, but the anger quickly subsided and was replaced by an unreadable expression. Hadrian, from beside him, had composed himself, but Daphne remained one of the few in the crowds that could still tell he was distressed.

"This is merely a trick concocted by yourself, Dumbledore," the Dark Lord sneered, but his venomous words did not match his hesitation. "Do not think me a fool."

Despite his words, the Dark Lord took an inadvertent step forward, unable to pull his gaze away from the woman. Likewise, the woman suddenly ceased her struggle against Dumbledore in favor of staring at the formidable figure before her.

"I see you are interested, my boy, despite your brave words," Dumbledore said smoothly, a hard edge to his voice and a cruel glint in his eye. "Let me do you the honor of providing proof."

And now, the very same spell that had been used approximately three years earlier by the Dark Lord on Hadrian to determine his true identity was now uttered by Dumbledore. The wind howled through the silent courtyard as the words "Caroline Malfoy-Riddle" floated over her head before vanishing ominously.

Hadrian's heart raced as he read the words that confirmed his mother was indeed alive. He stared across the area as his mother, his actual living mother, raised her head with upmost dignity despite the wand pressed to the side of her temple. She met Hadrian's eyes and smiled, but her eyes quickly returned to her husband. Rage brewed within Hadrian as he stared past her restrained figure to Dumbledore.

"Caroline."

The soft exclamation came from beside him, and Hadrian turned to view the speaker. Raw emotion flooded over the Dark Lord's face of conflicting feelings of love, anger, hope, and fear. Finally, his father decided on anger, and his magic whirled around his body dangerously. The Dark Lord radiated fury, and his red eyes narrowed dangerously as he directed his wand at the captor and his wife. Hadrian watched as his father moved to begin his approach, only to suddenly stiffen as Dumbledore pressed his wand forcibly into Caroline's temple, resulting in a slight gasp of pain.

"Move one more step and she dies."

The threatening words hovered around the courtyard, and many of Dumbledore's supporters struggled as they witnessed their leader conform into more and more of a stranger.

"Release her, Dumbledore," the Dark Lord commanded with a powerful authority colored in passionate loathing. "If you were planning on killing her you would have done so 17 years ago."

"Try me," Dumbledore replied tauntingly. "I have awaited 17 years for this moment to reunite your family and kill them before your very eyes. And then, in your grief, to provide you with the slowest and most painful death possible, as the wizarding world sees their Dark Lord collapse under my power."

A chill ran up Hadrian's spine at Dumbledore's sickening speech, disgusted by the amount of cruel pleasure expressed through his words. He glanced around him rapidly, taking in the overall astonished reaction of the crowds.

Dumbledore no longer hid behind his social mask. His eyes widened in a possessed manner, and his face morphed into an even more frenzied state. "You may have won the war, Tom, and you may turn the remainder of my followers against me, but you will feel pain far beyond my own ."

The Headmaster looked truly demonic now, his magic crackling dangerously and his face alit with crazy power. "Surrender or witness your wife blown into oblivion," Dumbledore said calmly, as if discussing the weather, which only added to his mad appearance.

No one doubted his words. Hadrian remained frozen as he waited for his father to act. His father would always stay composed, would always be able to handle the mounting pressure. He turned to his father, expectant.

Hadrian and the astounded crowd watched as the Dark Lord's wand fell onto the stones below in a soft clatter that resonated around the area.

"Don't listen to him!" Caroline screamed, her voice hoarse but determined.

Her horror was expressed in the surrounding area, even by many of the light supporters who had realized something was horribly wrong with this picture. Hadrian felt as if every inch of hope had been drained from his body.

His father had given up.

Dumbledore grinned madly, calling the Dark Lord's wand to him silently. It flew through the air swiftly, and the Dark Lord watched emotionlessly as his wand was caught by his enemy.

"You, as well, my little slave," Dumbledore ordered, his icy gaze now turned to Hadrian, who repressed a shudder. At Hadrian's defiant glare, Dumbledore smirked. "I would hate to have to kill your Mother, my boy. Although I suppose I would be doing you a favor."

Hadrian swallowed his anger and glanced at his father desperately, unable to comprehend the situation. He wanted nothing more to destroy this murdering bastard, but even his father - the most brilliant man he had even met and probably would ever meet - had seen no other option. The Dark Lord's gaze burned angrily as he stared forward, seemingly unwilling to face his son.

But, to his astonishment, his father's voice spoke in his head through their mental connection.

Surrender your wand, my son, his father mentally relayed . I have a plan.

With irrevocable faith in his father, Hadrian allowed his wand to slip from his fingers to hit the ground. Moments later he was forced to watch his most prized possession be tucked away in the robes of his former torturer.

"Your leaders are now defenseless," Dumbledore boasted, with a triumphant gleam in his eyes. "Make any move to help them and I will kill this woman."

Hadrian noticed the obvious distress from his friends, as well as the crowds around him, at his surrender. He watched as some of his friends and allies threateningly raised their wand, but he shook his head at them, calling them off. As Dumbledore continued his speech on his own greatness and superiority, Hadrian silently attempted to contact his father back through their connection by asking what the plan was. For a terrifying moment Hadrian wasn't sure that his father received his mental message. Before he could panic, a voice spoke in his head in reply.

I need you to distract Dumbledore to give me an opening, his father answered mentally. I only have one chance to catch Dumbledore by surprise with wandless magic.

Hadrian nodded subtly, which his father caught in the corner of his eye. With a set resolve, Hadrian severed the connection. He took a few steps forward, defiant as he faced Dumbledore.

"Well, torture me then!" Hadrian called out fearlessly. "Show all of your supporters your true nature! Just like old times when I was your student and you tortured me for hours until I actually believed it was what I needed and wanted even!"

Dumbledore laughed cruelly. "Even now, so desperate for punishment," the old wizard sneered, not moving or lessening his grip on Caroline. "You were always a good little pet."

"I am not afraid of you, Dumbledore," Hadrian said calmly, feeling oddly powerful despite the situation. "Even now, without my wand, I do not fear you. You are weak and inferior and do not deserve to stand in my presence. I am Hadrian Marvolo Slytherin, Dark Prince and heir to a founder of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You, Albus Dumbledore, will never amount to anything. No matter the result today, your name will never hold the same power as mine."

As Hadrian anticipated, this angered Dumbledore more than any other comment made previously. When, as expected, the cruciatius curse came, Hadrian made no move to avoid it. The pain shot through his body like lightning, and the power brought him down to his knees. As the agonizing waves coursed through his body he remained silent, yet Hadrian could hear outside screams despite his hazy, pain-stricken mind. The years of torture had trained his body to withstand the pain, although three years had passed since Hadrian had suffered pain under malicious intent.

Hadrian had lost all sense of time. Minutes or hours could have passed and it would have made no difference. When the curse was finally lifted, Hadrian was aware of two things. First, the crowds were utterly horrified, but they remained frozen in place in fear of Albus Dumbledore and the potential death of his prisoner. Second, his mother was still being restricted by his old mentor, but she was now fighting him with all the fire and rage of a protective mother.

"Hadrian!" she screamed, her voice heartbreakingly coarse due to the long imprisonment.

Then, to Hadrian's fury, Dumbledore slapped her viciously across the face. She fell to the ground from the impact, too weak to move, but she lifted her head regally as she glared defiantly up at her captor. The anger that had been burning in his scar constantly since his father's arrival had now significantly increased. Hadrian did not need to turn his head to see his father's overwhelming wrath.

"Do you still feel superior, boy?" Dumbledore hissed, his wand directed on Caroline as he towered over her. "Even now, when your mother's life is in my hands?"

Hadrian recognized the opportunity now presented with his mother no longer in Dumbledore's tight hold. He must act now.

Slowly, he eased his body up, forcing the trembling of his muscles that remained as an aftereffect of the torture to cease. Smirking, he straightened and observed Dumbledore in an air of superiority. On the outside it appeared as if Hadrian had been under a tickling spell, not a torture curse. The dark and light supporters watched in horrified awe as the Dark Prince fluidly took three steps forward, further closing the gap between him and Dumbledore as if mocking his opponent.

"You must be losing your touch, Headmaster," Hadrian taunted. "Curse me again, but actually try to make me feel it this time!"

Uncertainty flickered on Dumbledore's expression momentarily, but it quickly relaxed into a smug mask.

"Always so eager," Dumbledore sneered nonchalantly, although Hadrian knew his unscathed appearance set the older wizard on edge. The so-called Leader of the Light raised his wand, his attention momentarily fixated away from his captive as he hungrily observed his torture dummy.

Hadrian knew before the cruciatius curse hit him that the second torture session would be significantly more painful. Dumbledore's fury coursed through Hadrian like agonizing waves, each rhythmical blow growing in power and resulting pain. He had planned on keeping his eyes open to see if his father would seize the opportunity, but the agony was so overwhelming he could do nothing but fight the rising scream in his throat. He refused to give the old bastard any of that satisfaction. Yet each second under the curse slowly cut away his sense of resolve, of being, of living… his sense of everything.

Mercifully, the connection finally severed, and Hadrian collapsed from his knees to all fours. His arms barely supported his body as he was lost in severe involuntary trembles. His head was swimming in pain, and momentarily he was so disoriented he could not register any of the exterior yells surrounding him. Suddenly, a small hand gripped his shoulder, breaking Hadrian out of his shocked reverie. He slowly raised his head to see Daphne's dirty and terrified figure, although she remained chillingly beautiful.

"Hadrian, we need to move!" she yelled, her eyes only meeting his for a moment before she turned back to the direction her wand was pointing.

The haze suddenly cleared, as if something clicked in his brain. He rose instantly, clutching Daphne's arm for support, and the sight of his mother in his father's arms made him want to collapse in relief. Dumbledore, across from them, was epitomizing all of the evil fury that he had once convinced his followers of dwelling within the Dark Lord. All of the light and dark wizards, with few exceptions, now had their wands trained on Dumbledore rather than each other.

"You're outnumbered, Dumbledore!" The Dark Lord said confidently, raising his wand that he had somehow recovered. "And you no longer hold any leverage. Surrender!"

Dumbledore's anger lessened to a calculating loathing, and he surveyed the area with sudden resignation. Lowering his wand, he allowed the nearby Death Eaters to restrain him and force him to the ground. Hadrian watched as the old wizard's wand was seized by a triumphant Bellatrix. Leaving his wife in the grateful arms of Lucius, the Dark Lord stepped forward commandingly until he was so close to Dumbledore that the old wizard could lick his boots.

"You will never harm my family or this wizarding world again."

The Dark Lord's promise echoed around the courtyard. Hadrian stared at the confused, but determined, crowd of light followers for a moment, as well as the triumphant dark followers. Daphne squeezed his arm, and Hadrian turned to her with a smile. Despite his pain, he suddenly needed to be next to his father while he watched Dumbledore's demise. Stepping forward shakily, but with great resolve, he reached his father.

The Dark Lord turned at his approach, a proud and relieved expression on his normally expressionless face. In the next moment, before Hadrian could provide warning, Dumbledore gripped Hadrian's forgotten wand beneath his robes and fired off a startling green spell that was unmistakable. And it was heading in the direction of his father.

Hadrian had no time to think. Out of instinct he pushed his father away, allowing the green spell to wash over him like a powerful wave. And then everything went black.

Daphne watched in horror as the green light enveloped her boyfriend, frozen in place as his body fell to the stone floor.

"NO!"

Although the word escaped the lips of many people surrounding the area, the heart-wrenching, terrified scream that left the Dark Lord's lips trumped all others. The Dark Lord's spun to face Albus Dumbledore's twisted, amused face, and his magic suddenly lashed out inadvertently. The unleashed burst of power forced everyone in the vicinity through the air, including Daphne, and she gasped in pain as her back slammed against the hard ground. She sat up slightly, enough to see Dumbledore's unconscious body close by. She should feel triumphant, but she could not summon any feeling of victory. Her eyes moved unwillingly to the stiff profile of the Dark Lord above the still, fallen body of his son.

She felt cold. Empty. Void.

Hadrian was dead.

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.

A sob escaped her mouth before she could stop it, and for once she did not care who saw.

Just as abrupt as the dark embrace, a sudden whiteness enveloped his sight. Hadrian slowly raised himself from the flat, white floor as the brightness faded, and confused settled in as he finally was able to make out his surroundings. He stood in a wide-open space, bright and clean, with a clear, domed glass ceiling. It was quite empty. He looked down and, noticing his state of undress, immediately wished for clothing. Black robes appeared on the ground as soon as the thought popped into his head. Bemused, he quickly put them on. He did not know why the thought of being naked made him uncomfortable. He was by no means shy, and the white hall was empty, but his skin crawled for some reason. He spun around suddenly. He was the only person there, except for -

"Hadrian."

The man that stood before him Hadrian recognized instantly. The straight black hair, sharp aristocratic features, and the bold amber eyes remained the same, although this man was not yet his father. He was too young, possibly only a few years older than himself.

"How are you here?" Hadrian asked, and awareness suddenly shot through his body. "I should be dead. Dumbledore fired the killing curse. How am I here?" A beat of silence was the only reply to his questions. "Where is here?" he whispered, wishing to look around him although his eyes remained fixed on the figure standing before him.

"You know all the answers to those questions, Hadrian."

The smooth voice, albeit slightly younger than his father's, was so familiar; for a moment it was jarring, but Hadrian quickly pushed away that distraction to focus on the more pressing matters. Finally, realization flooded through his body.

"The part of the soul inside me…"

A brief smile tugged at the young Dark Lord's lips.

"I'm not dead, am I?"

"No, Hadrian," Tom Riddle said softly. "You are very much alive for now."

"And the horcrux?" Despite the question Hadrian knew what the answer would be and that he wouldn't like it.

"Destroyed by Dumbledore. Its existence saved your life."

The guilt of causing the loss of a piece of his father's soul was completely eliminated when he remembered he had saved his father's life. And now, it had also saved his own.

"If I'm alive then why am I still here?"

"That, I believe, is up to you."

Hadrian stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"I think you know."

And he did. He could choose to die now, to move on. He could let go of all the pain, all the suffering, all the bad memories. With that realization, he suddenly knew exactly where they were.

"We are in Kings Cross," Hadrian murmured, rotating slowly to soak in the area. "Just it's a lot cleaner and emptier, and there are no trains."

Tom Riddle lips merely upturned knowingly in response.

"I've got to go back, haven't I?"

"That is up to you."

Hadrian knew he should be frustrated at the short, cryptic messages, but instead it made him feel at peace.

"So I've got a choice?"

"Indeed," Tom Riddle replied. "We are in King's Cross, you say?" Somehow, despite the question, Hadrian got the impression he was merely asking out of politeness not ignorance. At Hadrian's nod, the man continued vaguely. "I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to… let's say… board a train."

"And where would it take me?" Hadrian asked, his voice a strangled whisper.

"Away."

For a moment it was tempting. To be free of his past life, of all his burdens, of all the terrible memories that he had been repressing for so long. If he returned he would have to see Dumbledore again, the man he had once worshiped blindly. He did not know if he was strong enough now that he had the choice.

As if sensing his thoughts, the young Dark Lord standing in front of him spoke quietly.

"You have less to fear from returning than he does. By returning you will once and for all show him that nothing he does will ever have power over you. You may return and help bring the Wizarding World back into balance with your loved ones, as has been your destiny since the beginning."

Hadrian nodded slowly. Yes, remaining here would give him an existence of peace and security, free of pain and fear and loss. But he would also be leaving behind the good memories, the people he cared about.

Why would he ever consider giving up?

Hadrian stared at the young lord across from his for a long moment, an understanding passing between them until the other figure slowly started to fade.

"Tell me one last thing," Hadrian said, suddenly desperate. "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"

Tom Riddle raised his eyebrows, as if doubting his intelligence, and his figure was almost translucent against the white background.

"Of course it is happening within your head, Hadrian, but why in Salazar's name should that mean that it is not real?"

Hadrian blinked, and suddenly he felt bodies pressed against his own. Faces floated above his figure, which was propped on someone's legs - Daphne's. She was sobbing, he realized in shock. Other sobs and screams filled his ears, and for a moment the scene did not change despite his awakened state.

"Who died?" Hadrian joked weakly, slowly sitting up.

Daphne's eyes snapped open, and she gasped in a mixture of shock and relief. "You're alive," she breathed, embracing him tightly.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," Hadrian retorted, a smirk on his lips.

"Indeed."

Hadrian's eyes shot up to his father, who radiated fury. He pulled his son up to his feet roughly, staring at him angrily for a long moment. Then, suddenly, despite every eye being on them, the Dark Lord embraced his son tightly.

"Never do that again, Hadrian," he murmured, betraying a hint of the terror and grief that had been swirling within him.

They pulled away, but the Dark Lord's merely held him at arms-length, still gripping his arms firmly as if he was unwilling to let go.

"Mother?" Hadrian breathed.

A flicker of both fear and amazement overcame his expressionless mask momentarily. "In the hospital wing. She's been under great stress. She collapsed when the spell hit you."

"Will she be okay?"

The Dark Lord nodded curtly.

Hadrian breathed a sigh of relief, still unable to comprehend his mother was alive.

They turned back to the astonished crowds that filled the courtyard. Cheers abruptly erupted around the area, screams of the "The Dark Prince Lives" echoing the courtyard.

"Where's Dumbledore?" he asked, frowning.

The Dark Lord motioned to the unconscious Albus Dumbledore surrounded by Bellatrix, Severus, Lucius, and Barty. For a moment Hadrian waited for the Headmaster to suddenly attack, but after a minute of observation Hadrian was satisfied that he was actually unconscious.

"We have won, my son."

"Not yet," Hadrian said slowly, his eyes still trained on the unconscious body of Albus Dumbledore. "But almost."

With his father at his side, Hadrian approached the unconscious enemy. He nodded to each of the Inner Circle members, but his focus remained on Dumbledore.

"My wand?" Hadrian questioned, turning to his father.

His father handed him the object in question, and Hadrian breathed a sigh of relief. He pointed it at the fallen enemy, determined.

"Hadrian, you cannot-"

"I may do as I like," Hadrian cut in, his voice cold and unyielding. "This man's fate is mine to control."

Lucius, who had tried to stop him, stiffened. He sounded like his father already. The Dark Lord nodded in approval.

" Ennervate," Hadrian said firmly, waving his wand, and watched as Dumbledore awakened.

The icy blue eyes stared at him in complete and utter shock.

"I killed you," he hissed, his eyes wide with frenzied confusion.

Hadrian grinned viciously. "You cannot kill me, Headmaster ."

Despite the use of the formal title of authority, Dumbledore had the striking impression that he was the inferior. Fear flooded over the old wizard's features, clashing with his crazy, haggard appearance.

Hadrian had imagined this moment for the past three years. The day he would finally see the man who had ruined his life in a state of weakness, powerless to stop the justice he would be served.

"Albus Dumbledore," Hadrian spoke evenly, only a hint of loathing and anger noticeable in his cool voice, and the courtyard was once again chillingly silent. "Albus Dumbledore, you have mislead, tortured, and killed thousands. You have led Britain into a state of war, resulting in great bloodshed and death." His voice suddenly sharpened. "You personally delivered me to a life of abuse and tortured me on a daily basis while I resided at this very school. You raised me to kill my very father. But you failed." Hadrian leaned forward, now smiling proudly. "I found my father, and now my mother. I overcame the lies and the pain you inflicted upon me. I embraced my true identity and heritage. I defeated you. And I, not my father, will be the one to end all the suffering caused by your existence."

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment, as if he could not believe the situation he was in. His eyes darted to the nearest people, pleading, but no sympathetic party stepped forward as he expected. His mind raced for a way out of this mess, but he could think of nothing. All his life he had relied on his great intelligence, his great ability to scheme and plot, but now, when he most needed it, it failed him.

"Do you deny it?" Hadrian asked cuttingly, breaking through Dumbledore's desperate inner search.

Icy blue eyes hardened. "It was all necessary for the Greater Good."

Emerald eyes narrowed in response. "Do you regret it?"

Dumbledore raised his head, knowing full-well that these would likely be his last words. "I only wish I had caused you more pain and more suffering," he hissed, his face alit with deranged passion. "I should be the leader of Britain! I, Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard who ever lived!"

Hadrian's grip on his wand tightened in fixed determination, now certain that this wizard would never change. Dumbledore, sensing the sudden shift in Hadrian's actions, attempted to lunge at him. Hadrian was faster. Dumbledore fell back to the ground, gasping as if held down by a large weight. After a brief nod of approval from his father, Hadrian took a deep, calming breath.

" Avada Kedavra ."

The last image imprinted in Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's mind was that of father and son, reunited despite his greatest efforts to keep them apart.

Hadrian stepped away from the still body of his old mentor, feeling empty. He had expected to feel relief, or triumph, or even feel grief or guilt. Rather, he felt nothing, as that man no longer had any hold on his emotions. He turned to his father, who was eyeing him in unmasked pride.

The Dark Lord knew that if the execution had been up to him, or many others, it would have been extremely painful and horrendous. But it had been up to Hadrian.

And, as such, it had been quick and painless, which was more than Albus Dumbledore deserved.

Well, hope that satisfied you all. I know that some of you guessed Caroline's survival, so there you have it! I must admit I am a bit of a sap for happy endings. Much of the details of battle was hurried, and much of their plan was not explained, but I simply had to choose what to condense and this is what the result was. And, to be fair, I am not the best action writer either. And yes, I'm sure many of you are so relieved Dumbledore's reign of terror is over!

Anyways this is the final official chapter, but an epilogue will soon follow. Please review and tell me what you think! The faster you review the faster I write :) I want to thank all who have previously commented for their advice and encouragement. Writing this story has been quite the journey.

Happy reading! :)

Epilogue

Welcome to the final chapter of Keeping Appearances! Thank you all so much for your support. I would have never finished this story if not for the positive feedback of you reviewers! I hope that this chapter ties up all the loose ends. Forgive me for summarizing in some places, but time restraints require I be brief in some instances.

Disclaimer: Belongs to J.K.R. I do not take credit for her writing in this chapter or any of my other chapters.

Warnings: nothing concerning, brief mentions of abuse and torture but nothing graphic

Enjoy!

The wind howled through the silent courtyard as the remaining light and dark fighters stared at the still body of the once great and powerful Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Hadrian Marvolo Riddle, the Dark Prince, stepped away from the dead wizard, turning to face the crowds of people with an expressionless mask on his regal features.

Abruptly, a scream of horror and rage broke through the silence, and Hadrian glanced over to see the plump figure of Molly Weasley pushing through the crowd. Hadrian prepared himself for an attack when he saw her wand raised. To his surprise, however, Minerva McGonagall stepped forward, blocking Molly's path.

"Did you not just see what I saw, Molly?" the professor asked cuttingly, her voice piercing through the courtyard. "Albus Dumbledore admitted to torturing a child! How can you continue to defend him?"

"He's lying, Albus would never-"

"Wouldn't he?" McGonagall cut in sharply. "Did you not see him threaten to kill an innocent woman and torture a defenseless young man?"

"He's You-Know-Who's son," Molly hissed, glaring at them, "he deserved it."

Suddenly, unable to contain himself any longer, Hadrian stepped forward furiously to face the mother of his once best friend. "Did I deserve it when I was a First Year?" he hissed, his magic pulsating. "When I had no idea who my father was? When I was so grateful to be at Hogwarts that I begged your leader to torture me? Was that right?"

The red-haired woman paused in horror, uncertainly eyeing the fallen light icon as if measuring if the headmaster was capable of such atrocities. Apparently she did, because she slowly stepped back to the crowd of remaining Order members.

"What will become of us now?" Professor McGonagall asked quietly, an uncommonly defeated expression on the Gryffindor Head of House as she faced the Dark Forces.

Hadrian stared at the light followers, all of whom looked as if the world had been turned upside down. Really, it had been. Their leader was a dark lunatic, and they had lost the war.

"Tend to your wounded," Hadrian replied steadily. "See to your loved ones. This is a battle that should have never happened. Unnecessary magical blood has been shed this day."

A wave of shock and amazement flooded over the Order members at his words. They looked toward the Dark Lord, who had been silently watching the proceedings until this point.

"Let us all go home," the Dark Lord agreed simply. "The battle is finally over."

Hadrian stepped back to his father proudly as the light followers retreated back to the safety of the castle. They had agreed not to take the Wizarding World by force, although if they ever changed their minds it would be an easy victory now. Simply put, the Dark Lord recognized that the victory of ruling over Britain would be short as a tyrant. He would reform the system, but not through force.

Lucius Malfoy stepped forward, talking quietly to the Dark Lord, and Hadrian was relieved to see his approaching friends close by. He quickly appraised their physical welfare, and saw that Blaise, Pansy, and Theo had experienced the worst of it. Blaise had a nasty slice on his leg, but Hadrian noted with relief that he had wrapped a bandage around it tightly to stop the bleeding. Pansy gripped her ribcage in pain, her breathing labored, but she grinned at him in excitement. Theo was being supported by Hermione and Draco due to a twisted knee. They were scarred, but they were all alive. Hadrian eyed his girlfriend anxiously, but apart from a few scrapes she was free of her own blood.

Daphne suddenly pulled him closer, forgoing all sense of etiquette, and kissed him passionately. Usually Hadrian would resist public affection as such behavior was unbefitting for the Dark Prince, but he found for once he did not care that the crowds of dark followers were most likely watching. When they pulled away, breathless and in each other's arms, Hadrian finally realized the magnitude of the moment. They had won the battle, and they were all still breathing.

"If you kiss me like that every day than I am so glad I'm alive," Hadrian whispered in her ear.

"As am I," she whispered back. "And I will remind you again, and again, and again for the rest of your life."

He could live with that.

Hadrian felt his father's hand on his shoulder, and he lessened his hold on Daphne. He turned, meeting his father's red eyes.

"Come," he said calmly. "It is time."

The Dark Lord yelled for the Dark Forces to leave, and Hadrian watched as everyone disapparated to the Headquarters. Hadrian nodded at each of his friends, and they also disapparated to their homes for treatment and rest. Finally, only he and his father remained in the empty courtyard.

"Let us go home, my son," he said softly, "and meet your mother."

The emotion that flooded through Hadrian at that instant could only be explained as pure joy, second only to the moment soon after when he arrived by his mother's bedside and wrapped his arms around her slim frame.

"My son," she whispered over and over, tears streaming down her pale face.

Hadrian pulled back, allowing his father to take his place and embrace his wife. No words were spoken between the pair, but Hadrian still felt like he was intruding when he watched them gaze into each other's eyes and kiss for a long moment. As if sensing his hesitation, Caroline pulled him back toward them. The emotion in the room was so strong Hadrian was certain he would suffocate.

Love, he recognized with a jolt. He was feeling love .

Maybe Dumbledore's propaganda had been right in one way, Hadrian mused. Love was, perhaps, the most powerful magic of all.

The courtroom fell utterly silent as Hadrian walked into the room confidently with his father, the Dark Lord, at his side. Fighting back a grin at some of the reactions around him, he continued to move casually with his father to the center of the wide room until they faced the Wizengamot directly.

"I believe we have some matters to discuss, yes?" the Dark Lord murmured, with one eyebrow raised elegantly.

Hadrian almost snorted at his father's comment, and his father gave him a subtle reproving glance. In response, he quickly composed himself, forcing back his nervous energy. This was a risky move they were taking, but a necessary one. They had taken precautions just in case their plan failed of course, and Hadrian was positive they would escape capture if the Wizengamot rejected their testimony.

"We thank you for accepting our request to meet us this day," Madam Bones replied formally, seemingly the only one in the room able to speak to the powerful and intimidating pair who four days prior had defeated Albus Dumbledore and his forces.

Although her demeanor was stern, her face was not unkind. Hadrian would not deny that he respected the woman. She was acting as the temporary Minister of Magic until one could be elected, although Hadrian suspected that a vote would only solidify her position.

"In the light of recent developments," Madam Bones continued, "we seek to find the truth of matters we once believed obvious. Some wish for you and your son to be punished for past actions, but I no longer am certain that the propaganda against you is true."

Hadrian glanced at his father, interested in what the lord would say in response.

"I will answer your questions, Madam Bones," he replied calmly. "I have no desire to hide the truth from the Wizarding World, nor does my son. But I am afraid that the truth may be hard to bear."

Madam Bones inclined her head in acknowledgment of his words. "We no longer have the privilege to protect our own delusions of peace, Lord Slytherin," she replied swiftly. "The former Minister may have allowed truth to be sacrificed for public support, but I will no longer tolerate such actions. I would ask for you to speak accordingly."

"Very well," the Dark Lord answered, removing his wand from his sleeve. "I, Lord Slytherin, do swear on my magic to speak only the truth this day in the Wizengamot courtroom."

All eyes were on the powerful wizard as he began to speak.

"One of the biggest lies Dumbledore told concerning my political campaign is that I wish to annihilate all magical individuals who are not purebloods. Although I believe that our magical heritage and tradition is being polluted and corrupted, I do not see half-bloods or muggleborns as tainted. Contrary to public opinion, I am not a pureblood."

Gasps echoed around the courtroom at his last statement, and the Dark Lord smiled humorlessly.

"Although I am a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin from my mother's side, my father was a muggle. I was born as a result of a love potion used by my mother on my father, who disowned me and my mother the moment he learned of the truth. My mother died shortly after. I grew up in an orphanage, and I was severely mistreated because of my magical abilities. When I entered Hogwarts, my hatred of muggles grew stronger, especially since many of my peers held an anti-muggle opinion. Dumbledore did everything in his power to ensure I and many other Slytherins were viewed negatively by other houses and his fellow professors. While many did not believe his words, others did. I also wished to continue as a teacher at Hogwarts after graduation, but Dumbledore strongly encouraged Headmaster Dippet to turn me down. I left Hogwarts, planning on gaining more experience, but shortly after Dumbledore became Headmaster. I then knew that my ambition to teach at Hogwarts would no longer be possible. I left that institution for good. Although I hate to agree with Albus Dumbledore about anything, I recognize now that I was incapable of teaching students with my current state of mind."

Hadrian gazed thoughtfully at his father when he paused, allowing the Wizengamot to absorb all his words and overcome their shock. Although Hadrian had heard his father's story before, with more depth even, it was still surprisingly hard to hear it every time. And now Hadrian recognized the real trouble began, where the Wizengamot would actually be able to prosecute his father for committing serious crimes. The dark-haired young adult was amazed when his father ploughed through boldly, forgoing his natural instincts of deception and self-preservation.

"My fifth year of Hogwarts I learned of my ancestry to Salazar Slytherin when I discovered the Chamber of Secrets."

Whispers erupted around the courtroom, but they quickly died after a swift glare from Madam Bones.

"Due to my ability to speak to snakes," the Dark Lord continued quietly, "I was able to control the basilisk, or so I thought. By awakening the snake I inadvertently awakened its innate need for blood and human flesh. I did not realize the extent of the damage of my actions until a student, Melinda Myrtle, was killed by the basilisk. I was only 16 - young, foolish, and ambitious. I enjoyed the power I held when I forced such a mighty beast to submission, but I was too arrogant. I should have realized that such a creature could not be completely restrained. The death of the student Myrtle was an accident."

The Dark Lord continued to stare at Madam Bones, waiting for her response to his admittance. Many Wizengamot members were visibly angry or upset over the announcement, but Madam Bones remained deathly quiet for a minute. Finally, she called order to the courtroom, her eyes remaining on the powerful lord.

"I recognize that you speak the truth, Lord Slytherin," she replied, although she eyed him knowingly as if she realized there was more to the story. "No legal action will be taken against you, due to your young age and the years that have passed since that, as legal requirement, nullify the crime."

Some protests came, although Hadrian was surprised there was not more. Madam Bones quickly stifled them and then urged the Dark Lord to continue.

"I thank the Wizengamot for understanding, although I suspect that you may not be so forgiving as I continue," his father said, calm despite his words. "My drive for power and interest in my wizarding heritage may have been born from my time at the orphanage, but my obsession of power and my heritage came from a much different experience." He paused, and Hadrian forced back the urge to yell for him to stop.

His father had promised both him and his mother that he would finally reveal the truth, although Hadrian now wondered if he wanted that. While his father needed to redeem himself in the eyes of the people, Hadrian was certain it would be better if he skipped over a few unnecessary areas. This was one of them.

"I confronted my father, who I learned was alive all this time," the Dark Lord explained slowly. "I accused him of abandoning me and my mother, as well as for my terrible childhood. I was consumed with anger. I decided to leave, unable to look at the man any longer, but he tried to attack me." His father halted for a moment, and for a split second Hadrian was certain he saw a hint of remorse. "I had not yet decided whether I would use magic, but I obtained a different wand in case I needed to. When my father attacked me both physically and verbally, in my fear and anger I cast the killing curse on him. I was 16 years old."

The room was silent as the members of the courtroom stared at the Dark Lord in a mixture of shock, fear, sympathy, and anger. Madam Bones lost composure briefly, her calm mask faltering at his words. After a few minutes of tense silence, she spoke deliberately.

"Once again, the circumstances of the incident, your age at the time, and the years that have passed since will result in no action from the Ministry against you for this crime."

Hadrian relaxed at those words, but Madam Bones quickly reinforced his worries.

"However," she said coldly, "do not expect me to be so forgiving in more recent accusations."

The Dark Lord nodded curtly in recognition of her words, his amber eyes unwavering. For a brief moment Hadrian was certain that Slytherins and Gryffindors were truly not so different after all. His father had to be the bravest man alive.

"I spiraled dangerously from there," the Dark Lord began again, although bolder than before. As Hadrian knew, the major crimes of his past were now in the open. "Due to my father and my childhood, I allowed my anger toward muggles to fester and grow uncontrollably. In my last two years at Hogwarts, as well as a few years after, I started forming a group comprised mostly of Slytherins and pureblood sympathizers. This part of Dumbledore's propaganda, at least, was true. I formulated plans to remove traces of filth from our society, to never allow a muggle to interfere with wizard kind again. I became more and more radical, although I had yet to take any major steps apart from recruitment. Shortly after Lucius Malfoy joined the group we called Death Eaters, and it was through him I met my future wife."

Hadrian noticed that the Wizengamot members softened at the mention of his mother, and Hadrian glanced at his father to see he now had a small smile on his face. Hadrian could not resist mirroring it as he considered his mother's survival.

"Caroline Malfoy epitomized everything I would later stand for," his father continued passionately. "She caught my attention from the very beginning, as she would boldly argue against my beliefs of muggles and my plans for the Wizarding World. Soon, I started to agree with some of her points, and I came to realize my hatred for muggles was misguided. She redirected the blame to the current wizarding system, and I reformed my plans in favor of reshaping our society. Shortly after we were married, and we continued to rise in influence through money and connections. Our ideas grew in popularity. This is when the propaganda against me was introduced by Albus Dumbledore." Anger flickered across the Dark Lord's face. "Dumbledore's power was being threatened, and he reacted by lying about my intentions and ideals. The first wizarding world began, and he captured my wife and newborn son." Amber eyes flickered over to Hadrian momentarily. "Consumed in desperation and grief, I urged my most trusted followers to search everywhere for my family, taking any means necessary to find them. It resulted in the unintended insanity of the Longbottoms, and it caused me to attack the Potters that Halloween night. The Potters, Longbottoms, and Dumbledore were those individuals involved in capturing my family, and they were the only way I would maybe find them again. Now I recognize that the Potters may have been blind to the true nature of their leader, but they still supported that mad man in capturing and torturing two innocent individuals. I gave them the opportunity to live, more than they ever offered my family, but they refused to give any information. I tried to reason with them about their leader, but they refused to listen and sought only to kill me. In self-defense, as well as in my grief and anger, I killed them."

"While the Potters may not have been innocent, you tortured and murdered their son a few years ago," Madam Bones said coldly, her eyes like flint as her voice pierced through the loud Wizengamot. "He was an innocent child, just as your family was. You are no better than they."

Hadrian shook his head fiercely, now stepping forward with his wand raised. "I, Hadrian Marvolo Riddle, do swear on my magic to speak only the truth this day in the Wizengamot courtroom." Hadrian tucked his wand away after the flash of white verified his vow, and he took a deep breath. "Harry Potter was never killed, because he never lived," he spoke quietly, but with power, and the Wizengamot members were transfixed by his words. "For 14 years of my life I was known as Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, when I really was the stolen son of Tom and Caroline Riddle. For 14 years I was abused by my relatives during the summer and tortured by Albus Dumbledore during the school year. It was not until Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy learned of my torture that I was freed from the clutches of that bastard."

Hadrian continued to explain the story of his recovery, of finding his father, and of trying to overcome the years of abuse. He ended with his explanation of the Final Battle, of his mother's survival and imprisonment, of miraculously surviving the killing curse, and finally killing Albus Dumbledore after an impromptu trial. His face was a stony mask as he spoke, but inwardly he had to fight to stay composed as he revealed all his private information. Only a few details remained secret, such as his nightmares, self-harming, his relationships, and horcruxes.

Horrified silence echoed around the spacious room when he ended his monologue, and Hadrian waited anxiously. Madam Bones seemed to be fighting back tears, which Hadrian suspected was because of his close age to her niece. His story, after all, was truly terrifying, even more to a parent.

"I am so sorry for your suffering and our ignorance," she finally spoke, her voice firm despite her sadness. "The Wizarding World has failed you." Her gaze turned to the Dark Lord. "It has failed both of you. And it is only because of you that we have escaped corruption. You could have chosen to seize power after you won the Final Battle but instead you decided to offer the wizarding world truth. No matter your past mistakes, I cannot ignore the extraneous circumstances and the sacrifices you have made for us all."

She took a deep breath, now falling into official mode. "I, Amelia Bones, acting Minister of Magic, do propose that Lord Slytherin be pardoned for all crimes committed before this date because of necessary acts to protect his own life, his family, and the welfare of the wizarding world. All in favor do indicate with a raised wand hand."

Hadrian watched in relief and surprise as half of the Wizengamot raised their hands to pardon his father.

"You are freed of all charges," Madam Bones declared formally, then turned to Hadrian. "I also propose that Hadrian Marvolo Riddle be pardoned for any crimes committed before this date, including the killing of one Albus Dumbledore, because of necessary acts to protect his own life, his family, and the welfare of the wizarding world. All in favor do indicate with a raised wand hand."

Almost every hand was raised in favor of his freedom, and Hadrian's heart lifted with renewed home.

"You both are free to go," Madam Bones declared. "We thank you for your services to the Wizarding World."

Hadrian turned to his father, who was now free of his past for the first time in over two decades. His father smirked, his amber eyes lighter and less harsh than normal.

"Let's go home," Hadrian murmured.

The two newly freed men disapparated, effectively tearing through the anti-apparition wards established by the Ministry. The Wizengamot sat in stilled shock, flabbergasted that some of the strongest wards in the world had been flicked away like child's play.

Amelia Bones smiled to herself knowingly. She knew no matter the verdict that Lord Slytherin and his heir would have never succumbed to the Ministry, nor would she delude herself into thinking they would actually have the ability to restrain them.

The Wizarding World was theirs for the taking. The fact that she was the acting Minister of Magic, despite the Dark Lord's clear victory, spoke volumes more than anything else spoken today in court.

The Dark Lord was a changed man, and Amelia Bones was certain that this change would better the Wizarding World in due time when the population was ready to accept it.

Hadrian collapsed on a nearby couch in one of the many sitting rooms attached to the library of Slytherin manor, thoroughly exhausted after another visit with Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. Hadrian had been pleasantly surprised by their first visit almost two weeks ago. Neville had grown into a strong, self-assured young adult, and he admitted to being suspicious of Dumbledore since Hadrian's absence. Although he struggled at first to accept the torture against his parents, Neville grudgingly admitted that their actions prior to the act were what caused the attack, not the intentions of the Dark Lord. Luna, of course, was always especially perceptive, and she accepted the truth instantly. Hadrian was relieved that they, as well as many others, had accepted their testimonies.

Four weeks had passed since their stories had been revealed to the wizarding world, and many had come to ask forgiveness for following Dumbledore. The Hogwarts professors were distraught and extremely disturbed that the former headmaster had been torturing a student without their knowledge. Minerva McGonagall, in particular, begged Hadrian to forgive her for her blindness to what was happening under her tutelage as Head of House. Hadrian did so gracefully, and he also used his connections to ensure she would become the Headmistress. He was certain that she would reform the school and protect the children, both of which were extremely important after the damage inflicted by Dumbledore.

Hadrian was surprised by how many of his old friends from school confronted him. As expected, Ron Weasley did not believe their testimonies because they were "dark wizards," but the rest of his family did. Ginny and the twins were especially remorseful, and they quickly tried to make amends. Hadrian was surprised to find that Ginny, Fred, and George fit in well with his close group of friends, as did Neville and Luna.

Most important, however, was his reunion with Sirius and Remus. After the Final Battle, they had wanted to find Hadrian to confront him but were too occupied with attending to the wounded to seek him out before he left. Shortly after the trial, however, Sirius and Remus had requested a visit to Slytherin Manor. They had been permitted, and after the initial shock and disgust over the actions of their former best friends due to the deception of Dumbledore, Sirius and Remus came to accept the truth. Now they strived to help in any way they could in the reformation of the wizarding society. Remus was once again offered a teaching position at Hogwarts, and Sirius was planning on finding a good cause to invest his fortune and time into.

But, as expected, a few old Order members and followers still refused to believe the truth of Dumbledore's ways, despite the testimonies of Hadrian and his family and the witnesses at the Final Battle. Many worshiped Albus Dumbledore and refused to believe anything negative of the deceased wizard. But Hadrian knew the worst was over, and soon more and more would come to accept the truth.

The soft footsteps interrupted his inner thoughts and he sat up slightly to see his mother and father enter from the far side of the library. Hadrian smiled, still amazed to see his mother alive despite the month that had passed. She was slowly regaining weight and restoring her drained magical powers, but her immune system was weak and she continued to suffer nightmares. Despite this, never once did Hadrian doubt the woman's strength. Severus had recently created a potion that counteracts long exposures of the torture curse, and that has tremendously helped her recovery.

Hadrian was about to stand and approach them, but he stopped when he realized they were speaking in hushed tones. Curiously, he listened from his hidden position.

"Hadrian just told me that he plans on entering the Auror department," his father said softly.

"You worry about him," Caroline responded just as softly.

Hadrian shifted slightly, startled by his father's reaction. Earlier when he mentioned his interest in the Auror program the Dark Lord was unsurprised and showed no negative reaction.

"He is more than capable," the Dark Lord mused. "Frighteningly powerful some would say… but I fear he will face prejudice. There are still some of Dumbledore's followers who are eagerly waiting for an opportunity to discredit or harm him."

His mother did not respond for a few moments, and Hadrian fought the urge to risk his position to catch a glimpse of her facial expression. "People cannot deny he speaks the truth, Tom," she responded calmly. "The Wizengamot freed both of you of all charges."

"Some claim that the trial was corrupt," he retorted.

"Even with Amelia Bones conducting the trial?"

Hadrian fought back a smirk at his mother's incredulous response, knowing his father would have to concede that point.

"Hadrian is no longer a child, as much as I wish he was," Caroline continued, a sad note to her voice. "We cannot stop him from pursuing his ambitions."

"I know," his father responded curtly, uncharacteristically conceding defeat. Hadrian blinked, but recovered quickly. His father admitted his wrongs much more frequently around his wife.

"Hadrian has grown into a wonderful young wizard," Caroline murmured. "He will do fine. He takes after you more than I'd like."

"What do you mean by that, dear?" the Dark Lord purred dangerously.

"Oh, only that there is enough stubbornness and superiority in this household without your son adding to it," she responded sweetly. "It's enough to have one man thinking he is in charge."

"You didn't seem to mind when I took charge last night," the Dark Lord responded suggestively.

"I have to let you be in control occasionally, dear," she teased. "Your ego couldn't handle it otherwise."

Hadrian smirked at their flirtation, thoroughly amused, although also somewhat disgusted. Certain that they were too busy with each other to notice him for a brief instant, Hadrian risked a glance in their direction. He smirked when he saw his father pressed against a bookcase, his mother tight against him while whispering in his ear. Fortunately, it was too quiet to hear, as Hadrian was certain he did not want to know if the aroused expression on his father's face was any indication. It seemed like Caroline took charge more than his father would care to admit. After a few moments, the pair relaxed, and he wrapped his arms around her protectively.

"I don't know how I ever managed without you, Caroline," he said softly. "My grief almost killed me. Hadrian was what saved me from falling prey to black magic once again."

"I cannot believe you only had him for three years," she replied softly. "He seems well recovered from the damage of Dumbledore and those muggles."

There was a pause, and even though Hadrian could not see his father's face he could tell that he was displeased when he spoke. "He is good at putting on a mask. That's all he did for most of his life. He's overcome most of it - the self-loathing, the fear of failure, the abuse, the nightmares - but he will always have scars. And he will always have that mask as his safeguard."

"Just like you," she whispered. "But certain people will be able to look past it. His friends, his mentors, and us. He will never be alone."

"We will do the same for you," his father said firmly. "Caroline, I cannot fathom the trials you endured while locked up in that dungeon." When she started to protest, turning away, he gripped her elbow and firmly pulled her back to face him. "No Caroline, I need you to listen to this. You've been avoiding this for far too long." She shook her head, her eyes averted, but he gently titled her chin up. "I will never let you go again," he promised firmly. "Every night when you wake up from a nightmare I will be there holding you. I will listen and try to understand. You know I am not an easy man, but I will do anything for you."

Hadrian knew this would not be the first or last time his father would say those words to his mother, but every time it would be just as important.

"He's 18," she finally answered, and Hadrian could hear the tears in her voice. "My baby is 18. Dumbledore took his childhood away from both of us. I was locked up for years, wondering about the both of you. The physical torture was nothing compared to the mental torture. Dumbledore was so proud of everything, he boasted of the abuse he put Hadrian under and his training to kill you. I thought I would die from the grief of it all."

"We are together again," the Dark Lord reminded her calmly, although Hadrian could sense Dumbledore's actions angered him greatly. "Dumbledore failed and he is dead. He could never break us apart forever. Which means you are stuck with me and Hadrian for the rest of your life. That is, if you don't go batty first from all the testosterone."

Hadrian smiled when his mother laughed through her tears. Although his father had always been a charismatic man when he chose to be, he was a different man altogether when he was around Caroline.

"Never again will a magical child suffer as our son did," the Dark Lord promised, his strong arms wrapped around her tightly. "Never again will this family be broken apart. I will do all that is within my power to fulfill that promise."

"Never again," his mother mused. "Powerful words. I like it."

Hadrian smiled in agreement.

"Yes, I think our son would too," the Dark Lord said, his voice suddenly louder. "What do you think, Hadrian?"

Hadrian sighed to himself, irritated but unsurprised. No matter how hard he tried he was never able to eavesdrop on his father without getting caught. He stood up from his reclined position on the couch, a sheepish expression on his face when he noticed the two disapproving looks from his parents.

As expected, he received a talking to from his mother for a good ten minutes. Hadrian expected it was a tad longer than it normally would be for such an incident because his mother felt she needed to make up on lost time. He apologized in the correct places, trying to be charming and regretful to avoid punishment. Hadrian couldn't help but fight back a grin through the entirety of the reprimand. It felt good to have a mother. As if sensing the same thing, his mother suddenly enveloped him in a warm embrace.

"I love you, son," she whispered passionately.

"I love you too, Mum," he replied, smirking at his father in the background who was dramatically rolling his eyes at the very touching and emotional display of affection.

She released him, gave him another warm smile, and left without punishing him. Grinning, Hadrian turned to face his father.

"I'd say that went well, then," Hadrian drawled, leaning against a nearby bookcase casually.

"I'm so glad you think so, Hadrian," the Dark Lord replied smoothly, a vicious smirk on his face. "That means you won't be opposed to completing the mounds of paperwork on my desk for me."

Hadrian fought back a groan. He should have known better than think he could escape without a punishment. Maybe his mother knew all along that his father would deal out a worse punishment than she. Smart woman.

"How many times do I have to tell you that unsuccessful eavesdropping is unbecoming?"

Hadrian watched the smug Dark Lord with a light heart despite the long day ahead of him having to finish his father's neglected paper work. He had a feeling he would have years ahead of him to eavesdrop on his parents.

That idea gave him great happiness indeed.

Today he was going to do it. He was not nervous in any way, shape, or form. He was the Dark Prince, Heir of Slytherin, and conqueror of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. He was not afraid. How could she say no?

"What if she says no?" Hadrian groaned to Draco, forgoing his usual dignified appearance as he voiced the fear he was denying viciously in his head.

The blonde smirked at his friend's misery. "That would be smart of her, wouldn't it?" he teased.

At Hadrian's glare, he let out a disbelieving laugh. "C'mon Hadrian, who in their right mind would say no to you? Not only are you now Head Auror, but you are the second most powerful man alive. The Dark Lord is your father !"

Hadrian suddenly felt guilty. "You mean, you think she'd be afraid to say no?"

Draco groaned, thoroughly exasperated. "Hadrian, she loves you. She won't say no, you know that. If you wait any longer, mate, she may just kill you. She's been dying for months for you to ask her."

Hadrian relaxed, shaking his head at his ridiculous statement a moment earlier. "Yes, of course, I don't know why I'm so anxious," he murmured, playing with the ring in his pocket absentmindedly and expertly hiding his embarrassment at losing his cool in front of Draco. Suddenly, a beautiful thought popped into his head. Draco tensed at the vindictive smirk sent his way.

"And just think, once I propose to Daphne you will be able to propose to Astoria," Hadrian said sweetly. "Pureblood customs will no longer restrict you from giving her the Malfoy family ring."

Hadrian leaned back and smirked when his best friend paled drastically. Oh, how the tables have turned.

Draco and Astoria, Daphne's younger sister, have been dating since shortly after the Final Battle, now about two years. Astoria was a pureblood heiress, there is no doubt, but she had a wicked side to her that always kept Draco on edge. Hadrian and Daphne were certain they were perfect for each other, although Daphne, being the protective older sister, still worried about her sister having a love interest.

Of their other friends, Theodore and Hermione were the only ones married. Their relationship from school continued to grow stronger and stronger, and Hadrian had been pleased to give his oldest friend away to Theo. They had been married for about six months now. They both worked as Unspeakables, but Hadrian had a feeling that Hermione would be taking leave soon due to a pregnancy.

While Theo and Hermione came as no shock to everyone, Hadrian was surprised by the other romances in his close circle of friends. The introduction of Ginny into their group proved to be positive, as Blaise was immediately interested in the fiery redhead. They have been dating for a few months now, and Hadrian was always thoroughly amused by their verbal sparring.

Neville had also proven to be an interesting development, as everyone but he and Pansy could see that they were attracted to each other. Neville was still shy around women, although he was a successful and confident Auror with Hadrian. Pansy, on the other hand, refused to admit she loved a Gryffindor. Hadrian knew it would only take time, as well as a few more "accidental" incidents of locking them in broom closets. The Weasley Twins, in particular, enjoyed that pastime.

Hadrian was aroused from his inner musings when Draco bravely suggested a game of chess. The Dark Prince grinned viciously, eager to destroy his friend in a game of strategy. He had, after all, learned from the best.

Light music filled the cheerful atmosphere of the Grand Ceremonial Hall in The Ministry of Magic as the most powerful and influential members of society gathered for the inauguration of the newest Minister. Hadrian observed as the wizard in question, dressed in luxurious dark gray robes, stepped forward to the podium, effectively ending all music and conversation. Hadrian's mother, from beside him, squeezed his hand tightly. The Dark Prince glanced over at her, but her porcelain face was smooth and confident despite her nervous movement.

"Welcome," the new Minister said softly, his smooth voice thoroughly capturing the attention of every person in the room. "Words, for once, fail me as I stand before you. For years I have envisioned this very moment, but nothing can prepare you for such a moment of great responsibility." There was a long pause as his amber eyes thoughtfully regarded the members in the room. "I admit that my past is fraught with mistakes and prejudices due to the unfortunate circumstances of my birth, all of which you are all fully aware of."

A silence fell through the room as everyone considered the Wizengamot Trial of their leader and his son held shortly after the final battle. The truths that had been revealed had stunned the Wizarding World, especially those that had fought at the Battle of Hogwarts under the pretenses given by Albus Dumbledore. The wizard they had considered a Dark Lord, a tyrant, and a dictator, actually was an ambitious young man that wished to better the world. Albus Dumbledore had been the true evil of Britain, seeking to hold his own power and influence even if it meant manipulating, mutilating, and murdering in the process.

"Albus Dumbledore tried his hardest to lead me, and many others, down a path of darkness to create scapegoats that would help him rise in glory. My hatred and fear blinded me for many years. But I promise you this: never again will I act contrary to the welfare and success of Wizarding Britain."

The new Minister raised his head regally, his eyes narrowed in determination. "Never again will a child be mistreated under my time as Minister. Never again will Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry be used for unjust means. Never again will we allow prejudices to pollute our society. Never again will we dwindle in our power and might as a wizarding community."

When he ended his speech, applause erupted around the room. Hadrian watched as the Minister stepped back, turning to face him and his mother. His mother smiled proudly, her green eyes glittering in pride as she reached for her husband. For a moment the new Minister admired her beauty, amazed at how well this magnificent woman had recovered despite her years of captivity. The hints of aged sorrow that were normally visible in her countenance were now replaced with indescribable joy.

They had campaigned for four long years to reverse the bad publicity and false propaganda of the years. Speeches, meetings, interviews - they were all a common occurrence. They also disbanded the Death Eaters in a sign of diplomacy, and at first it was a hard change for both dark followers and the Dark Lord. But they had gradually adapted, as sacrifices were necessary for victory. And now, after all the blood, sweat, and tears from their hard work, their vision had finally been realized.

"I love you, Minister Slytherin," Caroline whispered teasingly in his ear.

"And I love you, my darling wife," he whispered back.

They pulled back, and the Minister's gaze snapped to his son. Hadrian grinned at his father, his emerald eyes alit with joy as he stepped closer.

"Hopefully your tutelage as Minister will not result in any major changes in the Auror department," Hadrian remarked smartly.

His father smirked. "There is no need for that, my son. From what I hear the Auror department has never been so exceptional."

Hadrian grinned cheekily. "I hear the new Head Auror is quite the tyrant. You sure you won't sack him?"

The Minister wrapped an arm around his son, who was now his same height much to his chagrin. "Wouldn't dream of it," he replied instantly. "He takes after his father, after all. I would expect nothing less."

Hadrian moved to embrace his mother, and the Minister watched the exchange with inner joy.

Years of upholding expectations had drained him, as well as his son. Now they were no longer restrained by such pretenses.

The wizarding world had a long way to go before all was well. Prejudices and hatred still ran amuck. But they were slowly fixing it.

His wife and son still struggled on a daily basis to fully overcome their past demons, as did he, but each day together their suffering lessened. It may not be perfect but it's a start.

The days of keeping appearances had passed and they would never again return.

Never again.

The election of Tom Marvolo Riddle Slytherin would be remembered for centuries to come. It ushered in a new age of Wizarding Britain. Their alliances formed prior to the Final Battle held strong, and soon the Wizarding World became an international unified front against prejudice and corrupted magical culture. Dangerous substances such as love potions became banned, while dark arts and light arts were taught equally to reach out to all individuals with different natural magical preferences. Students were taught to use magic wisely, both dark and light. A program was also created to help orphaned and abused children, and muggleborns were carefully observed from birth to ensure fair treatment and understanding of wizarding culture. The former Dark Lord and Dark Lady were perfect examples to the world of pure and strong leadership.

After Minister Tom Marvolo Riddle Slytherin's retirement, his son, Hadrian Marvolo Riddle Slytherin, was elected. He and his wife, Daphne Greengrass Slytherin, continued the legacy of the Dark Lord and Lady. As predicted, Daphne accepted his marriage proposal instantly, stating sarcastically afterwards that "I thought I was going to be forced to get on my knee and propose to you!"

They had three children together. Their eldest, Thomas Hadrian Marvolo Slytherin, was rightly named. He took after his grandfather in appearance and love for politics and culture, and he fulfilled his grandfather's dream of teaching at Hogwarts as the Defense teacher and Slytherin Head of House. He married Cassandra Alice Longbottom, the only child of Neville and Pansy Parkinson Longbottom. Cassandra was clumsy like her father, which her husband found endearing, but her gentleness and intelligence were what really captivated Thomas in the first place.

Their second child, Selene Caroline Narcissa Slytherin, possessed little patience for politics. Rather, she chose to strive to mark her place in the history of the Auror department and be greater than even her father. Although Selene appeared much like Daphne, her mother swore that she was exactly like Hadrian in temperament. She married Hugo Nott, the eldest child of Theodore and Hermione Granger Nott and a leading diplomat for Britain.

Their third child, William Lucius Severus Slytherin, had Hadrian's dark hair and features but his mother's piercing blue eyes. His interest was on furthering research to help others, and he became a renowned healer for his medical discoveries. He married a brilliant muggleborn witch named Emily Finch, thoroughly ending any accusations of the Slytherin family prejudice. They met for the first time at the wizarding primary school, formed by Theodore and Hermione Nott to create a platform for muggleborns, half-bloods, and purebloods to come together to learn before Hogwarts. This school, called the Theodore and Hermione Nott School for Young Magical Education, or the YME for short, was designed to integrate muggleborns into wizarding culture and ways before entering Hogwarts.

Theodore and Hermione's second child, Rose Amelia Nott, acted as the headmistress of the YME when she reached adulthood. She soon married Scorpius Malfoy, the sole heir of Draco and Astoria Greengrass Malfoy, and they managed the primary school together for five decades before passing it onto their grandchildren.

The introduction of a young magical school was the first of many changes in this era. With the financial support of Sirius Black, as well as their own fortunes, Blaise and Ginerva Weasley Zabini pioneered and supported numerous foundations, all focused on the protection of magical children. They had four children of their own, all with flaming red hair. Arthur Hadrian Zabini, the eldest, played quidditch professionally and eventually married Holly Wood, the daughter of Oliver and Katie Bell Wood. Their next child, Cora Molly Zabini, became a well-established lawyer, and she married Gregory Nott, the last Nott child who worked with William Slytherin as a healer. Their third and fourth children, the twin boys, were named Frank Frederick Zabini and Gabriel George Zabini. The twins took after their uncles in mischief, continuing the marauder legacy.

Frank helped run the Weasley family joke shop business and eventually married a half-blood witch named Gina Lewis, daughter of Padma Patil and a muggle named Jordan Lewis.

Gabriel married Serenity Flint, daughter of Marcus and Luna Lovegood Flint. Luna became a psychologist after Hogwarts, and she helped Marcus overcome his personal struggles with having to kill during the Final Battle. A romance blossomed after that. Gabriel and Serenity restarted the production of the Quibbler, and it became a leading newspaper focused on declaring truth at any cost.

Severus Snape and Bellatrix Black were never formally married, as neither wanted to fuss over a wedding for a love they already knew was unbreakable. They didn't need an official marriage contract to tell them that. When Severus suggested a formal event, Bella firmly stated that "she had been married once, and once was enough for a lifetime." It was never mentioned again. Nonetheless, the couple was happy for all their years together, and they miraculously birthed one child despite their age. Her name was Stella Eileen Snape, and she was best friends with Thomas Slytherin. She inherited her father's talent and passion for potion making, and she met her husband, Victor Obelensky, at an international potions convention. Victor was the eldest son of Bulgarian Minister Obolensky, a good friend and ally of the Dark Lord.

Wizarding Britain had never been more powerful, peaceful, and joyful since the days of the founders. Hundreds of years from now young wizards and witches will whisper the names of the Dark Lord and Lady, and their son, with reverence and awe.

But one name will never be remembered, the Dark Lord ensured that. The name Albus Dumbledore was blotted out from every historical record, referring to him only as the Headmaster of the Dark Period. It was a revenge that was truly sweet.

Albus Dumbledore wanted to live on forever through his great name, but it will be forgotten. He will be forgotten.

But, as Hadrian Marvolo Riddle Slytherin had predicted, his story will be remembered forever.

I hope you all enjoyed the extra detail at the end of what happens afterwards with their children and such. I was a little dubious about adding it, but I felt you all deserved some extra information. By the end it just felt right to include it.

Wow. I can't believe it's finally finished. I started this project almost 4 years ago. Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with me as this story has progressed. Your encouragement and support has been huge in me finishing this story! Please, please leave me a final review and let me know what you thought of this chapter and the story as a whole. If I reach 1,000 reviews it would be a dream come true!

Alas, I have reached the point where I am now redirecting my attention to my personal writing. For that reason I will most likely never return to the world of fanfiction. Nonetheless, I wish all of you happy writing and reading. :)

Yours truly,

TheEscapeFromReality