Disclaimer: I don't own anything at all and am making no profit.

A/N In this Dumbledore is a manipulative nasty and so rather out of character from canon, I'm sorry if you don't like this sort of thing but it suits my purposes. This fic starts at the beginning of Christmas during Harry's sixth year. The events from OOTP are taken into account.

Chapter 1

Someone was tipping some sort of thick, leathery liquid down Harry's throat. It didn't burn, or feel icy cold... in fact Harry couldn't feel anything at all, except a dull ache filling his whole body. He didn't know what was happening around him, as his eyes slowly closed back into sleep.

"Don't struggle against the potion, Harry," a voice, tinged with trust and obedience charms, ordered him from far, far away.

And when the Boy Who Lived woke up the next morning, he remembered nothing of the potion. In fact he'd been woken up and forced to drink it every night since he was five, and before that he had been given a diluted version, even before his parents had died. Although then it was whenever Lily wasn't looking. He didn't remember any of those times, he would hopefully remain oblivious to them, never knowing anything at all... or at least that was how Professor Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump and Chief of the Wizengamot, to name but a few of his titles, wanted it. But things did not always go as Albus Dumbledore liked and there were many forces intent on meddling in the life of Harry Potter.

* * *

Harry woke up feeling as if he had not slept at all (this was because of an extra ingredient that had been added to the potion in preparation for the day, but Harry didn't know that). Then he remembered what day it was and groaned.... Christmas holidays had began. He would be spending it in the cheerful, brightly decorated halls of Hogwarts - the best school for wizardry and his home - as usual, however for the first time his friends would not be with him.

Ron had been called home urgently, Bill had gone missing in action during work for the order. Harry had wanted to go with him - but Dumbledore declared it unsafe. Ron promised to write, but Harry knew it wouldn't be the same and he would be left to worry for the Weasleys by himself. Hermione had also gone home, she was anxious to be with a parents as all muggles were targets of Lord Voldemort.

Wearily Harry forced himself to get up. He was the only boy in the dormitory. Seamus must have gotten up earlier, he always was an early riser. Neville and Dean had gone home, a little foolishly given the circumstances the wizarding world was in. Harry dragged on the awful Dudley hand-me-downs (who wears robes in the holidays?) and tried to make his hair lie flat. Of course as per usual, he failed miserably.

So started Harry's first lonely day of the Christmas holidays. At this point, wrapped in his own depression, he knew nothing was wrong. That was until he reached for the door handle...

It didn't open.

"Alohomora."

Still nothing.

"What the..?" Harry tugged at the door several times, and even as far as to throw himself against it. He stared at it perplexed, rubbing his arm that had hit the door. Was this Malfoy's idea of a Happy Christmas joke? Had the door got jammed somewhere? Was there a mistake? Voldemort?

"Hello??" Harry shouted through the door, "the door's jammed - I need help!"

No answer, how long before some realised he was gone?

"HELLO?!!" Harry shouted as loud as possible, pounding the door. "HELP!"

Finally a soft voice from behind Harry cut off the boy's attempts.

"I'm sorry Harry - the door will not open, neither can anyone hear you."

With a jump, Harry slowly turned around to face the wizened figure of the Headmaster. Harry had been trying to avoid the remarkable wizard since his fit last June, when he had been told of the prophesy. Dumbledore had tried to talk to him in the holidays, but Harry refused to respond. In fact many people had tried to help Harry with his grief about Sirius...

Harry had just closed in more.

"What is this, professor?" Harry asked coldly, "what's happening?"

"I'm afraid you won't like the answer- such a long one it is," the headmaster

mused, slowly approaching Harry.

"I don't care, why won't you let me out?"

"If you come with me I will tell you once we are somewhere more... secure."

"Go where? Professor!" Harry clenched his fists, his wand at the ready.

"You must trust me, Harry."

"And what incentive to I have for that?" Harry sneered, inside he felt slightly panicked about being locked in. He hated not having control over himself.

"Expelliarmus."

Harry watched helplessly as his wand flew out of reach and into the Headmaster's hands. He was very close to Harry now. Harry could see his blue eyes staring at him, reading him.

"Give back my wand and let me out or I'll-"

Harry fell silent as Dumbledore finally reached him, not a foot away.

"Harry, I don't want to do this," Dumbledore said quietly, "for all your life I have been preparing you, if you don't come willingly..."

"FOR WHAT?" Harry burst out, "what are you talking about?"

"To join me, Harry," Dumbledore replied quietly, Harry wanted to laugh at the

melodrama of his words, "and release your full potential."

"Have you been watching muggle films?" Harry barked back.

"Come Harry."

"No," Harry leaned back on the door as far as possible, "you can't make me do anything."

"Please, don't make this any harder than it has to be," Dumbledore replied, "and I can make you."

"Get away!"

BWAM!

In one moment Harry ducked and tried to slip away from the professor. He dived under one of the four posters, at the same moment as Dumbledore clicked his fingers and invisible ropes tied themselves to Harry, weighing him down, preventing all struggle. He lay in the dust and dirt under the bed, waiting, helpless. He was gagged too and kept inhaling the dust. The dark and shadowy light seemed to reflect his nerves. Harry's heard was beating faster than ever as he heard Dumbledore's soft footsteps. Moments later his booted feet came into view. Harry desperately wanted to jump up and hex him, but he was stuck defenceless. Dumbledore's wrinkled hands came into view and pulled Harry's motionless body from beneath the bed and into his arms. Harry stared up at him with muted fury.

The Headmaster carried his captive out of the dormitory, through a secret passage which the man had been using every night to give Harry the potion. Harry could only stare up at the grey ceiling, feeling desperate and angry. He would never be allowed back into the dormitory he had slept in for the last five and half years. The already abnormal world of Harry Potter was shattered.