Summary: Is giving up a choice or a result of circumstance? Harry is not living his own life. He is little more than a cipher for another to direct--but he is not without friends. Help sometimes comes from the most unexpected places and those who are lost are not always gone. This is a response to the challenge from Branwen777. I am posting the specifics of the challenge on my author's page, if you are curious.

Rating: M

Pairing: HP/OC (eventually)

Warnings: This is a slash fic! If you don't like slash then you will likely not enjoy this story. There will also be swearing, (mentions of) rape, sexual abuse, and violence. There will also be a bit of angsty fluff and eventually assorted naughtiness. The horror!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I am not even really responsible for the main plotline, as I said it is a challenge fic…

Music While Drowning

In no time the black river yoked all my strength

I saw the lesser waters great and the soft banks steep and high.

Twisting I fought

and heard the waters within me,

the fine, beautiful black waters –

then I breathed golden strength once more.

The river ran rigid and more strongly.

Egon Schiele "Music While Drowning"

Prologue

I first heard about Harry Potter when I was a little boy—just like everyone else of my generation. You would think that me being the son of the one he vanquished and raised by the most loyal Death Eaters, that the tales told to me would be different then those of everyone else, but they weren't. You wouldn't believe the stories that were told; constant talk that Harry would be the greatest wizard of the age, fanciful tales comparing him to wizarding heroes of legend. Some even said that Harry had been sent to protect the world and bring back the fabled strength and knowledge of magic from a time long passed. There were whispers that that he could be the next Dark Lord or even Merlin himself reborn.

Very little was known about Harry after that Halloween night and nothing was known about me, before or after my father's fall. Only the inner circle of the Death Eaters even knew I existed and only the Malfoy's and Severus Snape were ever entrusted with my care.

After that terrible Halloween night I went to live with the Malfoy's to be raised along side their son, who is just over two years younger than me. I heard rumors that Harry was sent to live with muggles after his godfather was thrown in Azkaban. We all thought that it was disgraceful that a boy who was hailed as the savior of the Wizarding World had inexplicably been exiled from it.

I had a good childhood. Draco was my best friend—my brother. Lucius and Narcissa were as every parent should be. They were strict disciplinarians when necessary and lovingly permissive when it was reasonable to be. I was spoiled. I believe that this was their attempt to make up for the fact that my parents were gone. I rarely met other children. Vincent and Gregory were the closest that Draco and I had to "outsiders" for friends, but I think that he was just as content with the situation as I was. They never hinted to me that they thought my father was still alive. I know that they wouldn't have wanted me to hope falsely.

I have always felt a kinship with the Boy Who Lived. Both of us were now orphans. Both of our lives were immeasurably altered and controlled by those around us. Harry's life was guided by Dumbledore and mine by my father, the "evil" dark lord and his band of murderous thugs. I remember dreaming about how one day Harry Potter and I would meet and then we would form some sort of connection between his world and mine. That he would see that we, the dark wizards, were not evil; that dark wizards didn't live only to kill and torture all muggles or muggleborns.

Together Harry Potter and Cassius Riddle would bridge that gap of understanding. We would usher in a time of peace and a rebirth of the old ways. We would revolutionize the government and education systems and make the world better. Dumbledore's rule over the Wizarding World would finally be broken and everyone would see the callous, manipulative bastard for who he truly is. Harry and I would have an alliance that had only ever been attempted by the founders. But we would succeed where they failed. Finally the teachings of Salazar Slytherin and Lord Voldemort would truly see the light and people would understand.

I was a very naïve child.

-0-0-0-0-

It was determined when I was ten that I would go to Beauxbatons for my schooling. The inner circle wanted to keep me as far away from Albus Dumbledore as was possible. They believed that I was too recognizable as my father's son—that I looked too much like he did as a child and my power had too similar a feel. They also thought that it would be difficult for me to keep my parselmouth quiet at Hogwarts. (Harry would later prove that to have been a good guess.) I do not doubt that people would have expected me to go to Durmstrang considering my family's much documented history as practitioners of the Dark Arts, but I was content at Beauxbatons.

My time in school was good. Quiet. I found myself missing my adopted family terribly, particularly Draco. I made many new acquaintances in school. Lucius would have been proud of all of the highborn, self-important wizards and witches that all but bowed down to me. I guess I am more like my father that anyone could have expected in that regard. My mother's family had long been the ruling family in France, even more powerful than the Malfoys in Britain. I was the last of her line and I used her name. I could trace my mother's lineage back all the way to the Merovingian kings of France and earlier. Even in the muggle world my name carries weight, although time has lent it a measure of obscurity. I believe that only muggle scholars really remember its significance to their religious history and to the history of European nobility.

All of this was supposed to be good training for me. In the British wizarding society my name is recognizable but in France, well we'll just say I was never lacking in either sycophants or bed warmers, all hoping to align themselves to a strong pureblood of an ancient and prestigious family. I think that people saw me as cold, which is mostly true and why I am not going to pretend that I made any close personal connections in school. I had allies, not friends. My greatest moments of pleasure always came when reading letters from Draco, who was attending Hogwarts. The stories that he often told me of that "blasted Potter" were always entertaining… particularly as my fascination with the Boy Who Lived never waned as I got older.

Sometimes I regret not having gone to Hogwarts, as my birthright would demand. I regret that I didn't get to personally know all of the people that I have heard so much about. I can almost picture myself presiding over Slytherin House with my adoptive brother by my side… but mostly, I ached to see him. Not just the shy smiles they always print in the Prophet or the fierce determination I saw during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I wanted to see him studying in the library, eating in the Great Hall, playing quidditch. I have always longed to look into those wonderful eyes and know that he was seeing me as well.

The Tri-Wizard Tournament

I chose not to enter myself into the tournament. Madame Maxime had been terribly disappointed when I told her, in no uncertain terms, that I would not make a spectacle of myself in such a way. She had even been eager to cheat to get me into the tournament, my being only sixteen. Lucius had been hinting for several years, and rumors reached me separately, that my father would soon be back. I knew that he would not approve of me exposing myself to Dumbledore and the scrutiny that would come with being a Tri-Wizard Champion. Madame had asked me if I wished to spend the year at Hogwarts with the seventh years. I believe that she wanted to show me off to Dumbledore and Karkaroff. However, no matter how much I wanted to finally meet Harry and spend the year with Draco, I knew that it was unwise. Not that Lucius, Narcissa, and Severus would have allowed me to go anyway.

I was able to attend the first two tasks of the tournament. I waited eagerly to see Harry for the first time in person. Admittedly I was viewing him as no more then an observer in a very large crowd, but he was just as amazing and beautiful as I had always thought. It was all that I could do not to curse that damned Horntail when it attacked him. I think that if Draco hadn't been sitting right next to me holding my arm I would have. The second task was much worse because I couldn't watch over him. I was truly afraid when the time limit passed. I had seen him when he had eaten the gillyweed and knew that if he didn't reach the surface soon he would likely drown. But Harry triumphed, as all good heroes do, and was awarded accordingly.

I couldn't understand it at the time, but I wasn't allowed to attend the final task. I think that Draco had told his father and Severus about how anxious I was for Harry during the previous tasks and they had some idea that Harry wouldn't be returning at the end of the third. I don't know what I would have done if my father had succeeded in killing him.

At first I was pleased that my father was back, even though he didn't call me to him immediately as I had expected. In fact, it wasn't until the end of the summer that I even saw him again. He was strange. Most of my memories of him as a child are hazy at best, but he had always been kind and interested in me. However, my meeting with him was less than satisfactory.

Everyone had always told me how like I was to him in every way, appearance, behavior, personality… and I would feel pleasure at such a comparison. Complimented. Then I met him. He was frightening. In not only appearance, but his personality was nothing like what I expected. He treated me as if I were the lowliest of death eaters. I am not entirely sure that he even understood that I was his son. We spoke in parseltongue, which seemed to please him and disturb him greatly at the same time. He tested me. He kept asking questions, trying to catch me in lies—what about, I don't know.

Then he challenged me to a duel. I am a very good duelist, probably one of the best. My magic is easily as strong as my father's and I am strong physically as well, but I definitely did not win. My father hadn't hesitated in throwing damaging and Unforgivable Curses at me. It ended with a killing curse being cast and Lucius tackling me to the ground out of its path as I stood there dumbly watching it streak towards me. My own father cast that curse at me. He tortured Lucius for his "interference". Nagini managed to distract him from turning his wand on me as well.

Suffice it to say, I was glad to go back to school.

Harry's Fifth Year

My final year in school was horrible for all of us. My father's insanity seemed complete, unwavering, and unstoppable. The Inner Circle was a disaster, being led by both my father's and Bellatrix Lestrange's madness. I was confronted with the very real possibility that I would have to kill my own father to stop his terrible acts. The only thing that saved us was that Father didn't want the Wizarding World at large to know that he was back. He wanted to use Minister Fudge's idiocy to have time to gather together and position his forces for the killing stroke before the Ministry even acknowledged his renewed existence.

His attacks were quiet and even more frightening in their precision, which seemed greatly at odds with his otherwise erratic behavior. His cruelty seemed to be what the rumors perpetuated by Dumbledore had always proclaimed him to be. It didn't fit with my memories and the stories that had been told to me by Lucius and Severus. I began making plans to escape my father if things continued on the path they were taking.

I didn't find out about the depth of his obsession with Harry until after the Department of Mysteries debacle. It was a night that forever changed all our lives and altered the course of war.

Chapter 1

I'm the man in the box

Buried in my shit

Won't you come and save me, save me.

I'm the dog who gets beat

Shove my nose in shit

Won't you come and save me, save me.

-Alice in Chains "Man in the Box"

Draco Malfoy strode confidently through the halls late after the first quidditch practice of the year. It had been Draco's first practice acting as team captain and he didn't even attempt to hide his pleasure in his new appointment. Everyone had flown well and he believed that the chasers were the best that Slytherin had had in many years. They might just win the Cup this year if Draco could pull off a miracle against one bloody Gryffindor, he thought with a slight frown.

Just as he reached the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room a dark figure stepped out of the shadows and Draco was startled to see the boy whose name he had just been cursing. Potter's bloodshot eyes looked wild and desperate.

"Malfoy, help me please!" Potter cried shakily. "My eyes see and my ears hear but my words aren't mine. My body isn't mine. Please understand! Sometimes my thoughts aren't even mine! I am his puppet—have been for years." The distraught boy cried, and reached out a shaking hand to touch Draco's arm, who jerked away sharply. Potter lurched forward and grabbed Draco tightly by the shoulders and pressed him against the wall.

"But I am me right now. I have been myself on and off since I was possessed by Voldemort at the Ministry. He can't know but I can't keep hiding it from him by myself." Potter's voice was shaking and Draco could feel his whole body trembling as well. Heavy breath, smelling of vomit, washed over Draco's face. Draco felt his own stomach heaving in response. He tried to pull away but the look in Potter's eyes had him frozen.

"Potter, I…"

"Please help me!" Potter sobbed then suddenly straightened an instant before another voice was heard.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, is there a problem here?" asked a very familiar voice. Draco was amazed to see Potter, who had hardly been able to stand a moment earlier, look straight and tall and powerful before him. The grip on Draco's shoulders changed from clinging to punishing. Only Potter's eyes showed a faint shadow of the desperation so obvious only moments before, as they peered intently into Draco's.

"There is no problem here, sir." Potter said, with a hint of anger in his voice, still staring at Draco. His hands dropped to his sides as he stepped back away from the other boy.

"Malfoy was just trying to start a fight with me, as usual. I am ashamed to say that I nearly gave him one. It won't happen again, sir. I apologize." Potter said with contrition. His eyes cooled and suddenly appeared apologetic and pleading as he turned towards Albus Dumbledore.

"Well then, I am sorry to say that I will have to take five points from each of your houses. Harry, you will come with me to Professor McGonagall's office and Mr. Malfoy, I will be speaking to Professor Snape about your behavior." Dumbledore lectured in a grave voice as his eyes twinkled brightly. "I would have expected both of you boys to have grown out of this by now." The Headmaster added with a disappointed sigh that was at odds with the slight smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Harry, come." Dumbledore snapped out abruptly and turned to walk down the hall—in the opposite direction of McGonagall's office. Draco saw Potter pale, and then he shot one last desperate glance at Draco and took a shuddering breath before jogging quickly after the headmaster.

Draco stood frozen in his place, breathing heavily, until the sound of footsteps receded completely. "What in the bloody hell." He whispered. His mind was spinning as he attempted to understand what had just happened. Draco slowly bent down to pick up his Nimbus 2001 that had fallen to the ground unnoticed when Potter accosted him. He paused before sprinting down deeper into the dungeons where he skidded to a halt in front of Professor Snape's office and muttered the password to allow him inside.

As soon as the door swung closed behind him Draco shouted for his head of house. A loud crash sounded from the adjacent storage cupboard and out walked a furious Severus Snape… looking slightly disheveled.

"Mr. Malfoy." Snape said silkily. "What is it that brings you to see me in such a state? And it better be very good."

Draco quickly relayed all that had just happened between him and Potter—every disjointed, rambling, and most importantly, desperate word. He felt almost as lost as Potter had looked.

"It couldn't possibly have been a trick. No one can fake what I saw in his eyes, Severus. Can we help him?" Draco asked. Snape had remained silent throughout Draco's narrative, giving no hint of his thoughts. "Should we help him?" All he could think about was writing Cassius to tell him this latest occurrence in the Harry Potter saga that so fascinated his friend. He was confused by everything that had happened and trusted Cassius to know what to do.

Snape looked pensive for a long moment. "I believe that perhaps the Dark Lord hasn't been the only one under some kind of control." Snape replied slowly. "I want you to watch Potter closely. Watch him when he is with his normal group of idiot Gryffindors and when he is alone. Do not approach him. Watch for signs of the struggle that you witnessed tonight. I will attempt to sit in on some of the meetings that the Headmaster has always felt necessary to hold with Potter." Snape sank slowly into an armchair near the fire, his billowing robe settling around him elegantly. He stared thoughtfully into the fire.

"Enlist Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and Parkinson in this. Trust no one else. Their dedication to the cause is true and their occlumency skills are sufficient." Snape paused almost imperceptibly. "And Draco… delay writing to Cassius about this."

"But sir, he…"

Snape raised his potion-stained hand to cut off Draco's protest. "If you were to tell Cassius about this incident, I have no doubt that we would find a shockingly Gryffindor Cassius Riddle storming the castle to save Potter." He said, impatience making his voice sharp. "It is a minor miracle that Dumbledore doesn't know about Cassius yet. We need to keep him protected as long as possible and he has never been completely rational when it comes to Potter."

"Yes sir. I will gather information on Potter and report to you as soon as I have anything." Draco hesitated. "What do I do if he approaches me again, Severus? Do I help him or brush him off…?"

"Listen to him. Make sure that whatever conversations you hold are completely private. Although from the interlude you just described, it sounds as if Potter won't need a reminder for that." Snape paused, pensive. "We need to figure this out. I will consult the council to seek their opinions on how to proceed once we have a little more information. The Dark Lord may not have been the only one freed by the events in the Ministry last year…"

Draco left Snape's office shortly thereafter; both occupants had become lost in thought. The door closed with a soft thud. He hesitated slightly before heading straight to the owlry to send the letter that his teacher had warned against.

-0-0-0-0-

My dearest brother,

There have been new developments with Him. He approached me, ambushed me more like, in the hallway. He seemed desperate and scared and rambled something about being himself for the first time since last June…I am sure you recognize the significance.

Old Blue Eyes himself came and an abrupt change came over Him—as if what he had been saying previously had never happened. Not even the Imperious Curse could have kept Him from trotting along like a good dog after its master…

Further observation has been requested by my stern advisor. I will enlist the aid trusted friends in this endeavor, but I am also seeking your assistance due to your continued interest in this topic. Advice?

From,

D

P.S. I was warned off of writing to you because of concerns of potential Gryffindor behavior. Don't make me regret sending this message!

A/N: This is my first fanfic and reviews would be tremendously helpful... Thanks for reading!