Yes, the last chapter is finally here!

For the pleasure of all of my wonderful readers!

CHAPTER FIVE

The days were slowly becoming a blur, impossible to discern one from the other.

The chaos that had taken residence in my head began dissipating slowly. A numbness, firm like steel, held the reins over my senses. The acceptance of the situation left me strangely distanced from my surroundings. Yes, I had already decided on my course of action, but I still couldn't deal with the outcome it would result to.

It was inevitable, though, and something I didn't want to bring on my friends.

The atmosphere in the dormitory that had been fidgety after my outburst in the bathroom, now had rocketed to downright unbearable.

Dean and Seamus were walking on eggshells around me, afraid that if they so much as glanced at me the wrong way I'd curse them or something. Neville was the most uncomfortable, clueless as to how to reverse the situation.

Ron wanted to make amends but, for once, he respected my desire to be left alone.

I stopped making any effort to patch things up with him and Hermione. What would be the point? They would hate me either way. At least if they didn't care for me any longer it'd be far less painful for them to let go and move on.

The entire Gryffindor House, usually easygoing and carefree, had caught up that something major was happening within the den and were acting more sober than ever.

A fact that, like all previous mornings, was practically screamed out to anyone that set foot in the Great Hall today. It was late, the House tables were already full, but the Hall was considerably tamer than normal. At first I didn't bother with this strange occurrence, passing it up to the exams that were only a few weeks away. After the fifth time this repeated itself, I couldn't help the curious glances I sent to my housemates.

It became apparent then that the fishy thing that had been bugging me for some time now, was the loud chatter and laughter absent from my table. Its occupants still conversed, but with a restraint I never knew they possessed.

Like I had been doing on every meal for a couple of weeks now, I took my newest seat on the table; on the far end, as farther as I could from Hermione and Ron.

Almost instantaneously, most of my year mates sagged, hunching in on themselves.

Each time the same thing replayed, it was becoming harder for me to repress a snort.

The first couple of times I admit it was kind of touching to see the extent to which they cared. The times that followed after that it turned amusing. Now I simply found it nosy. Why should it be any of their busyness what I did with my friends? It didn't affect their lives in any way possible.

Classes were going to start soon.

I wasn't particularly hungry anyway. I took a few sips of pumpkin juice before wiping my mouth with a napkin and rising.

At the exactly same moment Malfoy did the same.

Hermione and Ron's shoulders grew rigid as they took notice.

I made my way to the double doors, not batting a single eye when Malfoy fell in step with me, Parkinson, Nott, Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle surrounding us from the rear.

And like always, all chatter in the Hall lapsed for the briefest of seconds.

What had the corner of my mouth curling upwards, however, was the heavy stare I could sense boring into my head from behind. Never before had I enjoyed Dumbledore's plight so uncharacteristically much.

Beside me, Malfoy snickered.

I don't know what brought on this change in Slytherin's dynamics, but ever since the day after I received the chess piece, the elite snakes had simultaneously fallen into this role. A hunch told me it was all Voldemort's doing, but as I couldn't just up and ask them, it remained a mere speculation.

The Daily Prophet had remained surprisingly ignorant of this, seeing as no articles about another Dark Lord in the making had made the front page yet.

Now that, had Voldemort practically written all over it, since most students must have blubbered on to their parents by now.

As it was, I couldn't have been more pleased with the interference. It made things easier for me by far.

I fingered the Queen that I had taken to carrying inside my robes. Malfoy and the others were probably aware that I was on their side now, and considering that the group had the entire Slytherin House under their command, the rest of the snakes had been let in on the general picture to avoid unnecessary drama, for sure.

Besides that, however, I was pretty much stumped.

I had to carry out the role I had adopted, that was certain, but I didn't know when and how the curtain would fall. To the rest of the Hogwarts population, I underwent a change of character and suddenly dumped my best friends for the company of Slytherin's Prince and the rest of its monarchs.

My act was pretty flawless, if I could say so myself.

But how much longer do I need to play along? I thought bitterly, fingers clenching around the chess piece. I wasn't familiar with keeping up an impeccable façade during all times like the company that had taken to be my escorts. What if I slipped up and my mask cracked?

No! I can't!

I had to watch myself constantly, especially around Ron and Hermione. Those two knew me better than anyone. I couldn't allow them to see how much it pained me to treat them this way.

It's for their own good…

"Potter," A hand curled around my forearm, snapping me out of my musings.

If it wasn't for the rest of the Gryffindors approaching us, I would have smacked his hand away. I settled for a mild glare as I dragged my gaze from those pale digits to the silver eyes of their owner.

Malfoy, back turned to the upcoming crowd, gave me a haughty smirk.

Aware that I couldn't lash out with all these people around, people I had to persuade I craved his company, he stepped right into my personal space, lips brushing my ear as he bent down slightly.

"Don't lose focus now." he whispered, hot breath tickling my flesh, "Not when you already have them wrapped around your little finger."

Using the arm he was concealing with his body, I dug my nails as hard as I could into his side.

The wince he gave was perceptible only because of our proximity.

I tilted my head to mimic him by speaking into his ear, "Now that you've said your piece, get away from me nice and slow."

He chuckled lowly, stepping to the side and gesturing with his arm towards the DADA classroom his peers had disappeared into. I favored him with the smile that I had made sure to flash only around him these past few days. I had never realized how draining it was to have your emotions go on a rampage inside while keeping your face perfectly stoic.

*)&(*

By the time double Defense Against the Dark Arts was over I wanted to find the nearest wall and bang my head against it.

I loved the subject, truly I did, but Snape had this special way to turn it so unbelievably boring. He didn't teach only through the books like Umbridge had done, but because he had realized there was no possible way to remove points from me when it came to Defense, he had altered courses and simply pretended that for the duration of the lesson I didn't exist.

Neville, though…the poor bloke had dropped his wand thrice when Snape barked at him to correct his stance.

Wand already in my pocket, I made quick work with exiting the room, my bodyguards close at my heels.

"Harry! Harry, wait!"

I nearly did, the familiar voice making me pause instinctively, before I remembered myself and just continued walking, hoping she'd be discouraged from my clear dismissal of her and drop it.

A brown blur whisked past me, "Wait!" she repeated, palms pushing against my chest.

Of course she wouldn't drop it. As if I didn't know her.

I arched an eyebrow, looking down at her hands and Hermione made haste to retrieve them, a red hue coloring her cheeks. She opened her mouth but then closed it indecisively. By the time Ron joined her side, she had repeated that same action a couple of times.

"I'm in a hurry, if you don't mind." I made to sidestep her, but she outstretched her arm, blocking my way.

I shot her an irritated glare.

"Uhm…" she fidgeted, casting an uncertain look towards Ron. "We, uh, were wondering if you wanted, perhaps, to join us at Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

I frowned, only now recalling the scheduled trip to Hogsmeade. It was going to be the last one before the exams.

"I'll be busy." I replied dismissively.

"B-busy?"

"Did I stutter?" I snapped, genuinely angry I made her nervous enough to fumble with her words.

She shrank back, looking properly chided.

"Easy, mate." Ron said, tone placating as he eyed the Slytherins cocooning me. "Can't you spare an hour or so?"

Arms, slim but unmistakably toned, slid around my midsection and I had to fight down the urge to openly tense. A body pressed up against me from behind, while a smooth cheek rubbed against mine.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Weasley," Malfoy sneered, spiting out Ron's last name like it dirtied his tongue, "but I'll be keeping him busy that day, all day long."

Ron flushed, and I could feel Malfoy smirk.

"Get your slimy hands off him, you prick!" Ron shouted, lunging at the blond.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled, snatching Ron by the arm at the same time that Malfoy bodily pulled me backwards with him, his arms fastening their hold. Multiple wands were instantly drawn up and pointed at Ron, freezing both him and Hermione in their tracks.

I could swear my heart just missed a beat.

"Enough," I hissed to the armed teens behind me, garnering all of their gazes.

Fueled by the dreadful fact my best friends had been only a hair's breath away from being cursed, I turned furious eyes on Ron and Hermione, "Leave." I spat with enough venom that made them flinch.

"Please," Hermione muttered, almond eyes beseeching. "It can't be over…"

I faltered for a moment, my anger and fear cooling down. This was it. My next words would determine whether I could make my betrayal smoother for them.

There was just…

My lips parted, a chuckle spilling past before it escalated into full blown laughter that had me shaking uncontrollably in Malfoy's grip.

"Over, you say?" I panted out, more laughter tumbling out. "Does that mean we had something to begin with? Oh, please. Can you really be so bloody naïve?" I sobered up, mouth stretching out into a teeth revealing grin. "You've had your uses in the long run, but I can't possibly force myself to endure your presence anymore. There is a limit to how much filth one can stomach, after all."

…no other way.

Tears gathered in Hermione's eyes, sliding down her face and snapping her out of her shocked state. "You can't mean that…" she whispered resolutely.

My grin only grew boarder. "Have you gone deaf? Would you like me to repeat something you didn't catch, Mudblood?"

Ron reared back as if struck, face scrunching up.

Hermione's eyes went wide, more tears streaming down her face. She backed away slowly, one step at a time, staring at me with an emotion that could only be described as plain horror before she whirled around and bolted.

Ron's eyes were strangely shimmering when he locked gazes with me. "What the bloody hell have you done with my best friend?" he whispered, the raw contempt in his voice nearly making me cringe.

"Don't delude yourself, Weasley." I sneered back, his hurtful words providing me with ground to work on, needing to dig the knife in deeper.

Hate me, Ron!

"Who would ever want to be friends with a good for nothing idiot like yourself?"

Ron's teeth gnashed together, the sound reaching all the way to my ears. He turned away, a single wet line trailing downwards the moment he blinked.

My breath hitched, fingers itching to wrap around his arm and tell him I didn't mean any of it. God, I knew Hermione's tears bothered me, it always did when she cried, but seeing my best friend like that made my stomach churn in the most sickening of ways.

"Who would have thought you were capable of lying so well with a straight face?" Malfoy said, not even bothering to keep his voice low now that Ron was too far ahead to hear.

The underlying pride in that sentence made me absolutely sick.

My fingers wrapped around his arm, burying themselves in his flesh with a ferocity that had me seeing red. He released me with a hiss and I yanked him forward, using his surprise to throw him face first to the floor. He gasped from the impact and I grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back and stepping on it with my knee, utilizing my entire weight to keep him in place while reaching for my wand.

"Provoke me on purpose ever again, Malfoy," I growled, wand tip pressing into his throat, "and I swear I'll put you under the very same Cruciatus that had your dear aunt shrieking like a banshee last year."

Putting as much pressure as I could on his pinned arm, I couldn't fail but relish in the pained grunt that met my ears.

Aware all along that the others wouldn't raise their wands against me, I didn't spare them a single glance as I pushed away from Malfoy and set off down the hallway.

A low whistle reverberated on the walls.

"Wow, our side definitely suits him best. Don't you think, Draco?"

"…Shut up, Blaise."

*)&(*

(Third person pov)

He didn't know for how long he had been staring at the same sentence ever since morning.

He had gone to bed late last night, well after midnight settled. He couldn't afford the mere thought of finding Ron still awake. As it turned out though, he needn't have worried. There had never been a single occurrence in the past where he had found the curtains to Ron's bed drawn, not even during their blowup two years ago.

And yet, when Harry walked into the dormitory last night, the place weirdly devoid of the usual cacophony that Ron's snores orchestrated, it was with a pang that he discovered the bed next to his own cut off from the rest of the world.

He didn't know whether the curtains had been spelled to keep any noise from leaking out or Ron was simply awake behind that velvet shield, but he was too drained to bother dwelling on it.

After shutting his own red curtains, Harry had fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

He awoke a few hours later, too early for his liking, as the sun had been peeking over the horizon. Succumbing to his fate, he had taken a shower before leaving Gryffindor Tower altogether. Since he had no plans of joining the rest of his housemates to Hogsmeade, he had forgone the Hogwarts uniform for the comfort of some of his Muggle clothes; a pair of black drawstring sweatpants and a plain green T-shirt.

His already dark mood blackened completely by the fact that the pants were riding lower on his hips than before.

He had bought that pair half a year ago, which could only mean he had lost weight. No wonder he hadn't been particularly hungry these past days. Wonderful, simply marvelous! He was finally away from the Dursleys and instead of marveling in the freedom of provided meals, he had been unknowingly starving himself.

Well, to his defense, keeping a constant watch over his emotions was taking far more energy than he had thought. His appetite was nearly nonexistent nowadays.

Despite his better judgment, he had gone straight to the library rather than the Great Hall for an early breakfast. He was too grumpy to restrict his reactions. He had grabbed the first book he laid eyes on and two hours later, he still hadn't made it past the second page.

He was brooding and he knew it, but he couldn't for the life of him, stir his thoughts towards a different course.

"Would you like me to repeat something you didn't catch, Mudblood?"

He snapped the book close with a loud thud, shoving it away from him.

How could he have said that?! Yes, he needed them to sever ties with him of their own volition, but he had gone too far! God, the look on Hermione's face… he had never seen her so afraid of him before, not once. And Ron was actually disgusted with him now. He had never known it was going to be this hard. Willingly forcing the closest people he had ever had away…

How had he allowed it to come down to this?

"Here," a voice said from somewhere next to him, and Harry blinked incomprehensively at the apple that was thrust into his face.

Grimacing, he swatted at the hand holding it. "Don't want it."

Malfoy fell into the seat opposite him, legs crossing at the ankles. "When was the last time you ate? Not yesterday, that's for sure."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at him. "What, you're my caretaker now?" In truth, the other boy's little inquiry got him thinking. When was the last time he had a proper meal? Strangely enough, his mind came up blank. Well, now that, was pretty worrying.

Malfoy snorted, folding his arms across his chest and looking at him pointedly.

Too tired to pick an argument about something so trivial, Harry took out his wand and pointed it at the apple, summoning it to him wordlessly. He had to admit that the blond had a point, his stomach grumbling from the very first bite he took, as if scolding him for daring to neglect it.

Was it just him or was this apple the sweetest he had ever tasted?

Before he knew it, the fruit was gone, and his stomach seemed to have gone along with it. Now that he had started consuming something other than just pumpkin juice and water, his stomach wouldn't be satisfied with only an apple apparently. His brows furrowed, fingers clutching at the fabric of his T-shirt, only barely swallowing the whimper that threatened to rise from his throat.

Mutely, Malfoy held a second one out to him and Harry instantly made a grab at it, biting into the juicy flesh with such need that unbeknownst to him, a small smile tugged at the corners of his companion's lips.

He finished it as quickly as the first, but when another was presented to him, it gave Harry pause.

He stared at it and then turned to the boy that had moved to the seat next to his own without his notice. For the first time he bothered to question the apples in Malfoy's possession. Exactly how many had he smuggled from the Great Hall? More importantly, how had he known where to look for him? The Slytherin had been strangely tuned to his presence over the past week, actually; always popping up at random times, more often than not accompanied by the usual clique, and just hanging around him.

"Eat up," Malfoy urged, pressing the remaining apple into his palm. "You're going to need your strength."

Harry scowled at the cryptic words, Dumbledore's fondness of riddles bitterly coming to mind. "For what?" he asked, taking a bite at a more leisure pace now that he wasn't feeling as ravenous.

Malfoy either didn't hear him or opted to ignore his question, staring out the window instead.

Harry ate his last apple silently, thoughts involuntary slinking back to their previous subject of contemplation. He scratched his scar absently, mood darkening quickly. He knew he just had to suck it up and let it go. This was what he had wanted from the start, right? So why was he dwelling on it? As long as he was the only one ending up with the most damage it was alright…

He scraped the heel of his palm along the length of his lightning scar, irked at how itchy it was acting.

He took another bite from the apple, eyes unseeing as they stared off into space. That was exactly the problem, wasn't it? If this whole thing hadn't been happening, then no one should have to end up hurt; not him, and certainly not them. They wouldn't have understood, though. Never would have they accepted his reasoning for doing this. Even if he were to explain it to them, they would have scorned him still.

The apple halted mid-way to his lips. Harry huffed, scratching again at his scar with his nail.

He stood angrily. "Hey, I'm going to the bathroom for a moment." Perhaps if he splashed some cold water to his forehead, the itching would cool down. He frowned when he received no reply. "Oi, Malfoy, did you hea-?"

The rest of the sentence got lodged in his throat the moment he turned around, the half eaten fruit falling from his limp fingers.

Malfoy's silver-grey eyes were locked on him, unwavering in their stare, and above him, the bright green Dark Mark was looming over the entire village of Hogsmeade.

Dread spread like liquid fire within Harry's veins. "Ron…" he breathed out, "Hermione…!"

He spun on his heel and ran without a second thought, leaving the empty library and bursting out into an equally void hallway, only to find it not as void as he had expected. His steps came to an instant halt, green eyes narrowing in on the sole figure standing a few feet away.

His teeth grinded together. "Out of my way," he muttered, drawing his wand from the back pocket of his pants.

The elderly wizard remained motionless, hands clasped behind his back.

"He's here for you." Dumbledore said, voice as calm and composed as always.

"My friends are out there," Harry growled through gritted teeth, wand arm rising, "and if you don't let me pass, I swear I won't hesitate to fire."

Dumbledore's blue eyes were unusually sorrowful when they met his gaze. "You would attack me, my boy?"

"Don't try to guilt-trip me, Dumbledore!" Harry took a step forward, posture straightening, "You would see me dead this very moment even, if only you could get away with it."

"He must be stopped."

Harry's upper lip curled in disdain. "Sorry, professor," he made sure to put the necessary emphasis on that last word, "but if it's a lamb you're looking for then you should go seek it somewhere else because I've grown tired of playing that role. Now, out of my way!"

Dumbledore sighed deeply, head swaying remorsefully. "You disappoint me, Harry."

"Oh, boo-hoo," Malfoy said sardonically, coming to stand next to the raven haired teen. "Do you expect him to cry, perhaps? Bawl his eyes out because he's fallen out of your favor?" The corners of his lips pulled downwards into a revolted sneer. "How pathetic you've become in your old age, Dumbledore."

"And that shows precisely how young you are, Draco." The corner of Dumbledore's lips quirked into a small smile. "Age is inconsequential when it comes to power. Your lord is the living proof of that rule, is he not?"

Malfoy opened his mouth, but unfortunately for him, Harry was in no mood for this charade. He cast a wordless disarming charm, rolling his eyes at the exasperated look the blond sent him. The spell was blocked of course, as was expected, but he did get his point across. He would have been disappointed actually if the great Albus Dumbledore was taken down by a mere Expelliarmus.

The Headmaster chuckled softly. "Youngsters these days; so impatient. Very well, then."

Jet after colorful jet bombarded their part of the corridor, and the shield Harry had pulled up in a hurry was already beginning to crack in several places. Beside him, Malfoy had taken the offensive, shooting off some of the most harmful spells he could think of while still mindful of not casting anything labeled as dark, lest he have the castle's enchantments picking up on it.

Harry hissed suddenly, looking down to the burnt patch of skin on his lower arm. Gritting his teeth against the sting, he reinforced his shield, the cracks and holes solidifying again.

"Descendo!" Malfoy shouted, pointing his wand towards a suit of armor and causing it to tumble downwards in Dumbledore's direction, before he performed the same wand movements on the ceiling right above the Headmaster. Rubbles rained all over them, smoke spreading in every which direction.

Harry coughed into his elbow, searching wildly around when a pair of arms shot out from within the dust and pushed violently at his chest.

Not expecting the forceful shove, he stumbled back unbalanced and when he realized his back should have connected with something by then, it was too late. Broken pieces of glass grazed his arms and sides as he fell through the smashed window, spiraling downwards with alarming speed.

It was by pure adrenaline only that he still had hold of his wand, and as he opened his mouth to yell a Summoning Charm, his voice died in his throat.

The wooden floor creaked noisily as he paced, the sound magnified tenfold in the concrete silence that had enveloped the entire room. It was with disinterest that he observed the muddy paw prints caked on some floorboards which looked to be several years old.

Coiled in the threshold, Nagini swayed her head accordingly with his movements, always keeping him in her peripheral vision; she had made it her duty to guard him, after all. The thought almost had him laughing.

With each flick of her long, serpentine tongue, the two children crammed close on the small rundown cot would reflexively flinch back.

His familiar hissed furiously at them once they did it again. He had to admit, even he was growing tired of their antics. At least he wouldn't have to wait for long now. His mark had already taken to the skies, it was only a matter of time.

He closed his eyes briefly, "Harry…" he whispered and his vision was filled with green.

He blinked at the abruptness of it all and the green eyes blinked back. When he repeated the motion but the other pair failed to do so, he gazed downwards, lips stretching out. "You might want to do something about that broom now, child. The ground is getting closer."

Harry gasped, blinking profusely to clear his vision. He twisted his head, cursing loudly at the swiftly approaching ground below.

"Accio Firebolt!" he screamed above the whooshing wind, portraying his urgency as best as he could in his thoughts.

Sure enough, his broom could be spotted circling one of the castle's turrets, speeding towards him. He maneuvered in midair, turning on his stomach just in time for his Firebolt to slide smoothly beneath him and he positioned his legs, directing it upwards again just as the back end of the broom grazed the ground.

He tightened his hold, breathing heavily through the mouth.

After taking in enough breaths to calm his racing heart, he accelerated, using the Firebolt's top speed as he flew towards the direction of the Shrieking Shack.

He shuddered violently, the icy wind feeling like tiny little needles were prickling right inside his fresh wounds. Damn, inside Hogwarts it was like summertime. Guess he had only himself to blame for pulling on the first ordinary clothes he had gotten his hands on.

He glanced at his arms, grimacing upon finding them covered in cuts; some of them still had little pieces of glass embedded in them.

Great, just great.

Gradually, he slowed down, lowering his broom close to the assembled, black robed figures near the entrance to the Shack. He dismounted just as Zabini and Nott jogged towards him, the former taking tight hold of his forearm when he swayed dangerously.

"Everything alright, there?" Zabini grinned cheekily at him, but he did squeeze his grip in case Harry got dizzy again.

"Shit, it's the blood loss, isn't it?" Nott asked, taking one look at Harry's arms and torso before pulling out his wand and starting to cast enchantments all over his body. Shortly after, all of the remaining glass was sucked into the wand tip and the skin began knitting back together.

Vision still a little blurry, Harry looked from one boy to another, before settling his gaze on the one nursing his injuries. "You know healing charms?"

Nott snorted, "Clearly," he said, grinning up at Harry.

Harry didn't comment, instead he turned towards the dark skinned boy holding him steady. "I'm fine, now."

"You sure about that?"

Zabini chuckled at the glare he was given, slowly releasing the other boy.

Careful not to move around too much and disturb Nott's concentration, he looked around the people circling them, registering the plain irony that had this been a year ago, he would have been cursing every single one of them by now.

His eyes landed on Lucius Malfoy and he had to stifle the urge to scowl, "Your son is battling Dumbledore as we speak."

Malfoy Sr. looked a bit surprised at having been addressed personally, before he arched a single golden eyebrow, "Draco's task was to create a diversion for you. Now that he has bought enough time for you to reach here, he's free to activate the Portkey he was given. He should be here shortly."

Harry didn't let the relief he was feeling show on his face.

He nodded curtly at the two boys by his side before making his way towards the Shack, the Death Eaters stepping aside to mutely allow him past.

He slipped through the door, head raising to take a look at the stairs above him. Heaving a sigh, he trudged towards the staircase, grasping the withered banister to aid his trek upwards. Nott might have healed him so as not to lose any more blood, but he still hadn't replaced the amount he had already lost. He doubted, however, that his classmates had also come equipped with Blood Replenishing potions.

When he finally reached the top and saw them through the threshold, it was like a huge rock had been lifted right off his chest.

He leapt above the disgruntled snake and ran over to them, throwing his arms around them and crushing them against him. "You're alright, you're alright." he mumbled again and again, to persuade his friends or himself he didn't know. At the mere thought that something might had happened to them while they had parted under such circumstances, breathing became too painful.

Tentatively, their arms lifted to grip him briefly before they pulled away completely, taken aback by the tears brimming in his eyes.

Hermione's eyes instantly filled with tears that spilled down her cheeks, "You were lying," she sobbed out and he nodded frantically, destroying the image he had been trying to build around them but not caring in the least.

He was tired of hiding.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, wiping one of her eyes with his thumb, "You have no idea how much it hurt. I'm really sorry."

Hermione choked back another sob, sniffling as she buried her face in his chest, fisting his tattered shirt.

"You're a right down git, ya know that?" Ron mumbled, rubbing furiously at his eyes and Harry flashed him a watery smile, recalling how he had said the exact same thing to him in their fourth year.

"I know." He squeezed Ron's shoulder, and after failing to stop the tears the red head cursed silently and just squeezed back, grinning toothily.

"Pardon the interruption," a velvety voice drawled right next to his ear, and next thing Harry knew, his friends had reared back, eyes dilated as they clutched at each other.

Harry climbed to his feet, turning around slowly.

Vivid red eyes were drinking in every detail of his face, until an unnaturally long, pale finger lifted to stroke his cheekbone. He shuddered, part of him from the major difference between their temperatures, but mostly because of the jolt that slithered down his spine, causing his skin to erupt in goosebumps.

If he had any doubt before, it was extinguished now.

There was no denying the little flutter of something inside him, flaring to life at the close proximity of the Dark Lord.

It no longer scared him; he had come to accept it a long time ago, along with the consequences it'd bring both to the world and to him.

Voldemort breathed in deeply, eyelids sliding shut.

It was as though he was taking his first breath ever, savoring it to the fullest.

Harry's heart thudded painfully at the picture, for some reason feeling ashamed for having denied the man the right to reunite with a part of himself for so long. It didn't matter now. The shard had been left too long with him, to the point they had become one. He didn't know where Harry Potter started and Tom Riddle ended, anymore. He could no longer tell which emotions were his and which weren't.

…And he wasn't sure he wanted to.

Voldemort's eyes snapped open suddenly, staring into his own unwaveringly, like they were the center of his personal universe.

Harry rose on his tiptoes, wrapping his arms around the pale column of neck so that he could draw Voldemort's head closer and link their foreheads together, sensing his skin sizzling at the contact.

"He let me suffer all these years so that he could kill me, Tom." he murmured quietly, red orbs not once looking away from him.

"Just like he did with you." he added in a whisper and watched in muted fascination the slit like pupils thinning further, his scar peaking ever so slightly as the Dark Lord's temper spiked.

There was no need for clarification.

They were both aware about whom he was talking.

Dumbledore had abandoned them both; Tom Riddle at that stinky orphanage and Harry Potter at those despicable Muggles that were supposed to be his family. In a way, his conscious ignorance to their foul childhood played an important role to how they turned out.

That foolish old man never learnt from his mistakes.

Strong arms snaked around his back, inching them closer still while cold fingers threaded through his hair. Voldemort guided his head to the side so that lips brushed against the shell of his ear.

"How should we punish him, my little one?"

Harry shivered at the combination of those words and of the hot breath fanning against his flesh.

"It's only polite manners to return the favor, isn't it?"

Voldemort chuckled throatily, "Naturally, that goes without saying. Any specific requests?"

"Massster," Nagini hissed, abandoning her guard to slither her way towards them.

She coiled her lower body, using it to rise in the air, golden eyes fixated on the raven haired teen. "Isss thisss the nessstling you ssspoke of? He sssmellsss of kin." Her long tongue flicked out, scenting the air around Harry for confirmation but the teen stepped back, wand in hand.

"Harry," Voldemort whispered warningly, taking a step forward.

"No!" Harry growled, for the first time feeling threatened. "She hurt !"

"And I killed your parents," the Dark Lord countered, studying him curiously.

"That was war!"

"And this is war."

Harry shook his head furiously, eyes narrowing. "I have nothing against the Order. It's Dumbledore who wants to sacrifice me like a pig."

The Dark Lord's gaze sharpened, "The members of the Order of the Phoenix have thwarted my plans for far too long. If grown wizards aren't capable of protecting themselves, I see no reason to even call them adults."

Harry deflated, wand arm wavering. "Don't harm the children." he whispered, tone imploring.

Voldemort's gaze drifted over Harry's shoulder, upper lip rising in disdain. "These children?"

Harry nodded. "And a couple of others."

The Dark wizard clucked his tongue in annoyance. "Is this the cost of your allegiance?"

The raven haired teen bristled, mouth curling into a snarl. "My loyalty can't be bought, Tom. Keep my friends out of this bloody war, however, and you'll have earned my trust."

Voldemort studied his face for a long while, the prolonged scrutiny putting Harry on guard.

"There'll be a specific limit to the number of names you'll present to me." The man said finally and Harry could instantly feel his breathing easing. "However, they must all be underage."

The teen scowled, not pleased to hear that last bit, but aware that the Dark Lord's generosity had been stretched to its limits. "Fine." he consented at last, expression forlorn.

Voldemort inclined his head curtly, satisfied before his attention centered to the two speechless youths on the cot. "What shall be done with your pests? They've witnessed more than they should."

Harry's entire frame grew rigid, eyes turning to the splintered floor.

When they lifted again, they bore into Voldemort's own with resolution. "A little birdie told me you're very good with Memory Charms."

The corners of the wizard's mouth curled into a dark smile.

He drew his bone white wand, walking past Harry, who stood rooted on the spot.

"No…" came Hermione's choked whisper, followed by a rustling sound and Harry could envision his friends crawling as far away from the Dark Lord's approaching form as possible.

"Don't!" Ron yelled, his back hitting the wall, and Harry clenched his jaw.

"No!" Hermione screamed when Voldemort lifted his arm, voice frantic. "Harry, please! Don't this!"

Teeth digging into the flesh of his lower lip, the raven haired teeth resisted the instinctual urge to clasp his hands over his ears.

"Please…" Hermione hiccupped, "Don't make us forget you…Harry, please."

"Goodbye," he whispered quietly and an anguished sob was ripped from Hermione before an almost inaudible "Obliviate!" echoed throughout the tiny room.

Then there was only silence.

Harry exhaled a shaking sigh, breath catching involuntarily in his throat when he was whirled around and slammed against the nearest wall. He winced at the harsh impact but the sound was swallowed whole by the pair of lips that collided with his own. His surprise at the cold sensation was instantly exploited as Voldemort took advantage of his parted lips to plunge inside his mouth, muffling Harry's protests by thoroughly exploring his cavern.

The teen's hands grasped the front of the Dark Lord's robes when the wizard's now hot tongue curled around his own, shuddering violently at the intimate dance it was pulled into, forcing him into participation.

It was only a kiss and yet, the heady sensations assaulting his every nerve were making him strangely disoriented.

"Mngh…!" He shut his eyes, feeling suffocation creeping up on him, but Voldemort still pressed on, insistent on mapping out Harry's mouth, like he wanted to burn every detail into memory.

Black spots were starting to explode behind the teen's closed lids, drawing an incoherent moan when they caused the sensations to grow tenfold.

Voldemort's lips abruptly disconnected from his, and Harry's eyes shot open at once, inhaling greedily and letting out the breath in broken pants.

His chin was taken in a firm grip, and Harry had to blink twice to clear his vision.

Smoldering crimson eyes stared down at him, immobilizing any and all motions on his part. "I'm not Dumbledore, Harry. Once I've claimed something as mine, there is no walking away. I won't allow you to; not now, and not ever. Is that clear?"

Harry gulped audibly, gaze trailing off to the side.

"Is that clear?" he repeated sharply, tightening his hold.

The teen flinched slightly, looking back at the man. "Fine, but no more of…that. Right now, the Headmaster is my only concern."

Voldemort's lips twitched. "No need to worry. We have eternity ahead of us, after all."

Harry tensed, squinting suspiciously up at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The back of Voldemort's index finger trailed down his cheek in a surprisingly gentle caress. "Didn't you know, my little one? As long as you remain a Horcrux, you're immortal. And seeing as I have no intention of extracting the piece of my soul from within you, we will be keeping each other company for quite some time."

The Dark Lord chuckled at the boy's shell-shocked expression, earning himself an absentminded glare.

"It's not like I have any ties left that'd hold me back." Harry muttered scornfully, brow suddenly furrowing. "Does that mean I have to get along with her?" he pointed to the serpent by Voldemort's feet, face scrunching up into a grimace.

Nagini hissed back her displeasure before dragging herself over to the small cot, hovering over the prone forms on top of it.

"Hey!" Harry cried, marching over and pulling at her tail. "I know you can understand English. Get your ugly face away from them!"

She swatted at his hands with the end of her tail, baring her long fangs. "Massster! Teach the nessstling sssome mannersss or I'll have him for dinner!"

"I'd like to sssee you try," Harry retorted, crossing his arms.

"Quiet, the both of you!" Voldemort hissed in warning, slashing his wand towards the unconscious teens and levitating their bodies from where they lay. Without a backward glance, he turned on his heel and exited the room, Ron and Hermione's forms trailing in the air behind him.

Harry growled threateningly when Nagini made to follow, jumping ahead to put some distance between her and his friends.

She grumbled some profanities in his direction, but Harry paid her no heed.

The moment their little group stepped outside, the gathered ring of Death Eaters instantly ceased whatever they were doing to drop down to their knees before the Dark Lord.

Harry scanned the crowd, spotting the person he was looking for and walked over to him.

He pulled him to his feet, raking his eyes over the length of his body and causing his former classmate to arch a single eyebrow. "In one piece, I see."

Malfoy scoffed, "Such faith in my abilities, I'm flattered."

"Not my intention, believe me." Harry rolled his eyes.

Beside the blond, Zabini snorted. "He's acting all tough now, but you should've seen him when he arrived; covered in gashes from head to toe."

"I spent a good twenty minutes on him before I got him back to working order." Nott nodded his agreement with Zabini's words, sending a challenging look towards Malfoy.

The blond huffed, hands at his hips. "I'd like to see in what state you two would be after fighting against Dumbledore."

Zabini held up his hands. "Whoa, there. No need to get riled up."

"Are you alright, though?" Harry asked, making Malfoy turn back to him, his glower slowly dropping.

"Fine," he gestured towards Nott, "As he said, he patched me up."

Nott grinned in triumph, folding his arms over his chest, obviously pleased.

Harry shook his head, turning to go back the way he had come. Just like at Hogwarts, the three of them fell in step with him, Malfoy and Nott at either side of him with Zabini behind him in the rear. He ignored the looks the rest of the Death Eaters kept shooting them, having learnt by now that the little formation could receive an immeasurable amount of staring.

He could feel Voldemort's gaze on him, observing his every move, but he chose not to comment on it.

Upon reaching the unconscious figures on the ground, he extracted himself from the others and stepped around his friends' bodies, kneeling between them. He stared at their faces, sensing something constrict behind his chest the longer he did. Shaky fingers reached out, brushing a couple of stray locks of hair off Hermione's face, so serene in her slumber.

Only the tear stains indicated the turbulent state she had been subjected to.

Ron, on the other hand, wore an expression of absolute torture, his brow set into a deep scowl.

Harry smiled ruefully, hand enclosing around Ron's wrist and applying the barest of pressures. "Take care of her, mate."

Fingers withdrawing completely, he rose to his feet. Green orbs settled on the three boys before him, features smoothed into something unreadable. "You'll take them back to the castle, someplace where they're certain to be found. Even if wards have been pulled up, you're all students, so you're bound to be allowed passage."

"They'll reach Hogwarts safe, and unharmed." Harry put emphasis on the last three words, eyes narrowing in clear warning.

He didn't need to point out the hell that there'd be to pay should the last requirement not be met. They knew more than anyone the importance those two people held to him, as well as the extent to which he was willing to go in order to ensure their safety.

In one fluid motion, as though it had been performed million times in the past, they fell to one knee, their splayed out hands coming to rest on their chests as they gazed steadily at him.

"Yes, my Prince." Came the chorused reply.

Working with coordination, Malfoy and Zabini cast Disillusionment Charms on Ron and Hermione respectively, while Nott took care of the Disillusionment Charms on all three of them.

Soon, there were no traces left of them, and the shuffling of feet that still reached Harry's ears were extinguished the moment the Muffling Charm fell into place.

Silence stretched out in the clearing after their departure, broken only by Lucius' affronted whisper of "Draco!"

Harry hummed under his breath, taking out his own wand to cast a Heating Charm over his clothes, shivering pleasantly once it took effect. The wind had gotten too chilly for his liking. "Don't bother, Mr. Malfoy." he said absently, pocketing his wand. "They've been mine for weeks now."

He turned to meet Voldemort's ever present gaze. "You don't mind, do you?"

The Dark Lord merely stared back passively. "I do hope you haven't forgotten everything I told you already."

A light flush dusted Harry's cheeks in response and Voldemort nodded, satisfied.

He crooked his fingers, gesturing the boy over.

Harry eyed him apprehensively for a moment, certain he was going to pull something funny in front of his entire army. Tentatively, he approached the older wizard.

Voldemort exhaled, exasperated, before reaching down to tilt the boy's chin upwards. He bent his neck, placing a small kiss in the center of Harry's forehead. "Welcome, my Black Prince."

"Another title?" Harry rolled his eyes. "As if the others weren't enough."

There was a strange gleam in the Dark Lord's eyes when he straightened. "There are no other titles. The Boy-Who-Lived was killed this very day by the hand of the Black Prince, a pawn which I had yet to move on the chessboard. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger's memories will attest to that, considering that Harry Potter was murdered right before their eyes."

Harry stared at him agape, blinking aching slow.

"…You altered their memories, not erased them?"

Voldemort smirked, a twisted sort of smile that provided Harry with the answer he needed.

"Let us see how the great Albus Dumbledore shall fare against the newest addition to our game."

The smile that Harry flashed him in return was just as wicked.

THE END

And yes, it is finally done!

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