Held: A Story of Redemption

by Ceara Ivory

Voldemort rescues Harry from the Dursley's and Potter's world is turned upside down when he realizes that not everything is as it seems and that just because someone says they care about you, it doesn't mean it's true.

Held: A Story of Redemption

written by Chibikan

Betaed by Neko Kuroban

Rating: PG-13 AN: I thank you all for taking the time to read this. I know this'll seem out of character but it was inspired by a dream I had. And somehow, when you really look at it, I think you'll realize it's not really so out of character as you might think. Note, this is AFTER OOTP, assume Malfoy has been freed from jail thanks to his vast bank account because he will play a key role in this story. This is NONSLASH!

Night shrouded Privet Drive in its dark embrace. Neither the stars nor the moon shed their light. Everyone was asleep, in a tangled web of dreams.It was an ideal time for a cloaked man to make his move against his enemies. He was flanked by a half dozen dark-robed figures. Each carried a long, polished piece of wood in hand, each different in one way or another. These figures moved with single-minded purpose, a harsh, determined stride toward a house set upon this stretch. It was a typical British suburban rowhouse, with an immaculately manicured lawn, and a sleek, pristine ebony car. The brick home was cold, set some distance from the road. The windows were like all the others on the avenue, yawning black mouths to the tomb. Save for a soft gold light from a lone second story window. It was the only source of light on all the street.

"My loyal followers," the intimidating figure at the forefront began. His voice held an almost tangible quality to it; he spoke silkily, as if he knew much the others did not. "Tonight, we shall finally make the first of our crowning triumphs over the Mudbloods... the one that is, dare I say, the most important. We will at last defeat the Potter brat. I do understand that we have had prior issues with this. Tonight, my Death Eaters, will be much different. We have the advantage. We have the element of..." Voldemort halted, his words trailing off. Slanted crimson eyes darted to Goyle. An ashen face was marred with an expression of confusion and one could say, embarrassment. He watched mutely as the short, broad-shouldered man played with a red yo-yo. The toy jumped up to his hand and down to about six inches from the ground, repeat ad nauseum. "What an idiot." Voldemort grated harshly. Eyes narrowed, the Dark Lord pulled out the slender length of his wand. Suddenly, an agonized shout rang out from the lit window that belonged to their target. All turned to the sound. Something was off, even Voldemort could sense it. An unholy chill that something was not right here.

Voldemort felt a sense of sick curiosity. He had not yet attacked, so why was anyone in the house screaming? He motioned with a skeletal hand for his men to follow him. Once outside, he discreetly levitated himself to the window.

"YOU! It was YOUR FAULT!" roared an immense man, his face a horrifying shade of bruised violet. He grasped Voldemort's quarry by the collar of his pajamas, as he slammed the thin boy against the wall. Apparently, this was the source of the screams. For some reason, just watching this made the Dark Lord well with anger. There was not much in the way of wickedness that he would ever dream of objecting to, but this, the beating of one's own relations, one's own nephew or child he did, with a passion. It brought back pain-filled memories of his life in that vile orphanage before Hogwarts, and even during his school years. It made his blood boil to relive the pain he had gone through in that harsh institution. His fury increased just to see another feel it. "My boss just called." Vernon started to explain, his voice false with a sickly-sweet intonation. All pretenses shattered abruptly, as he jerked the boy forward. "APPARENTLY there was a FIRE at the warehouse, shortly after I left. And I am NOW OUT OF A JOB!" Voldemort listened, and wondered, how could Potter be responsible for that? He listened for more. "Don't think I don't KNOW what you did! You and your freakishness! YOU DID IT"

Voldemort watched as the man yanked the boy from the cramped, ill-lit bedroom, twisting the boy's arm at a painful angle. The Dark Lord levitated downward to the first-floor window and watched in disgust as the man grabbed a metallic baseball bat from the small hall closet and beat the boy across the head and back with it, continuously. He had seen enough. He pulled out his wand and aimed it at the door, whispering an incantation that caused the wooden door to splinter and shatter.

Harry's uncle was distracted from his assault on the boy, giving the victim a chance to regain his breath. "YOU! Who are you! Get out of here at once"

A long-necked blonde woman came down the stairs, a dressing gown draped unflatteringly over her too-thin body. Her pajama-clad son, a miniature of his father, tagged at her heels. "Be careful, dear," the blonde woman whispered, tugging at a thin strand of pearls with a bony hand. Her brown eyes were almost terrified, "He..." she whispered, looking as if she were about to be violently ill. "He's one of those freaks"

Harry felt a searing pain, as if his forehead was tearing open at the scar. He knew exactly who had destroyed the door, and was stalking into the foyer. Somehow the protective wards had failed. Voldemort was now here to kill him. At least... at least, the pain would end.

Voldemort spoke, voice chilled and forbidding. "I would listen to your wife, you pathetic excuse for a Muggle! No, the term Muggle is still too flattering for the likes of you"

Uncle Vernon growled, low and guttural. "Again, I ORDER you to leave my home at once! Or I shall call the police"

"Oh, really?" Voldemort's voice was infused with a caustic sarcasm that was more fitting of Tom Marvolo Riddle than the Dark Lord. "And what shall you tell them? 'Oh, you know, some psychotic guy just burst into my house and interrupted my beating my freakish nephew half to death.' Shall I dial that number for you"

Vernon's face somehow darkened several shades, to an almost impossible color of bruised fruit. "YOU! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW"

Voldemort strode forward, robes billowing. "I certainly intend to, but not without Mister Potter. I will not leave him in YOUR care any longer. Dumbledore must think this boy's safety is some sort of disgusting joke to place him with an insect such as yourself"

Harry was confused, his mind awhirl. However, he fortunately did not have long to think, as the blessed darkness of unconsciousness snatched him away.

Voldemort, however, was not finished with his tirade. "How dare you call yourself human!" He hissed, low and hypnotic. "To subject anyone to this torture. Believe me, I know torture. I am the Dark Lord, Voldemort, and I've done far too many things to be considered moral... or even, just. But I think a concept can be considered worse than bad when even I detest it! You will never harm this boy again." Voldemort then turned his attention to the trembling blonde woman with the immense, wavering, fearful eyes. "And YOU!" He snapped, livid and furious, "You are just as bad as he! To accept that things like this were happening to your own flesh and blood, and not do anything about it. It's simply sinful. People like you deserve to rot in the ninth level of hell!" He breathed in and out shakilly, his blood still heated with hatred for these people. He cast a summoning spell for the boy's things and sent them to his manor, along with the snowy owl. Afterwards, he lifted the weight of the injured boy carefully and turned to leave.

"A...Aren't you...going to kill us?" Dudley asked, his voice hitching in his throat.

Voldemort turned back and looked at the petrified family. "And wouldn't it hurt worse if I didn't." It was not a question. His words hung behind him, ringing in the dead silence of the paneled hall. He stepped out of the front door into the dark of the night. He was once again followed by his men, who were now glaring at the small family within. They, too, had done evil things in their lives, but never would they harm their own flesh.

But one man, one with a crooked nose that was testament to several breaks and raven-colored hair that hung lank about his pale face, only studied the Dark Lord. His sharp features were awash with confusion. The sorcerer had just done what none would have expected. He had saved the Boy-Who-Lived.

As the sun warmed the cool gray sky and cold granite manor the next morning, Harry awoke. Blinking dazed, sleep-blurred eyes, he found himself in a grand four-poster bed, nestled under luxuriant quilts. He glanced around the large, high-ceilinged room as he came to a sitting position. It was a fair size, especially considering the dingy four walls he had called his room in the Dursley's home. The walls were paneled with rich oak, but draped with majestic emerald to provide warmth. The mouldings were trimmed with silver leaf. A fire was crackling cheerfully in a black marble fireplace. Harry could not shake off the feeling that the room had once belonged to a Slytherin.

"Whoa, where am I?" The thin boy pondered aloud, rubbing at his eyes as he groped for his glasses out of habit. He had not been wearing them the night before, but somehow they were on the bedside table. The once-cracked lenses and twisted frames were repaired, clean and neat as their day of purchase. "And how did I get here?"

"Me master brought ye, love." came a high-pitched reply, as the door swung forth, with an ominous creak. A large snake slid into the, not as big as a basilisk but she was definitely bigger than a garden snake. She was a beautiful cobra, whose black and gold scales glittered in the firelight. Upon her regal, hooded head she bore a heavy tray, laden with breakfast for the famished youth.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, raking a hand through his ever unruly hair.

"I am called Nagini. I 'ope you're 'ungry, cause the house-elves went overboard on your breakfast, as usual." The glossy creature slid the tray from her head, with the tip of her tail. It was set gracefully onto the bed, by Harry's right hand.

He picked up a piece of toast, examining it carefully. "So, where am I?" He inquired.

Finally, as if realizing there was no harm in it and that he was ravenous, he took a bite.

Nagini seemed to grin. "Riddle Manor." She answered, slithering across the room. A lazy flick of her tale and the thick drapes over the lead glass window parted. Brilliant sunlight, littered with dustmites, through gilded patches over the hardwood floor.

Meanwhile, Severus Snape was in Dumbledore's office. He had a sort of world-weary resigned look as he stared into the fire. His voice was quiet as he reported, almost dutifully.

"Headmaster, I swear to you, that is exactly what happened. The Dark Lord didn't even use the cruciatus. He just screamed bloody murder at the Dursley's, took up the boy, his things, and left." Snape recounted the events to his employer.

"I cannot believe it, Severus." Dumbledore stated, face etched with rare, haggard bemusement. "Do you know where Harry is?"

"I do." The potions' master replied solemnly.

Dumbledore stood and crossed the room in rapid strides that befitted a much younger man. He dipped a hand into a crystal jar of floo powder. "Then tell me, so that I can go and rescue him."

Severus Snape shook his head slowly. "I cannot do that Headmaster." He stated.

"Why not Severus? Harry's life is in danger." The Headmaster attempted to appeal, moonlight-blue eyes on the taciturn professor

Snape gave a slight, dismissive snort. "He's in no more danger than he was when he was with his dear relatives. In fact, I dare say he is safer."

"SEVERUS!" Dumbledore snapped, twinkle fading from his eyes, "I know you dislike the boy, but you are suggesting that we leave him with Voldemort! The man is a mass murderer."

"And if it weren't for said MASS MURDERER, said boy would not be alive right. And the fault would have been your own. Professor," Snape added, as if as an afterthought. His eyes were like intense ebony flame, angry,

Dumbledore laid a hand, pale and folded, cracked and pitted, with time, on Snape's shoulder. "Severus," he spoke softly, "I highly doubt that Harry's uncle would have gone so far as to KILL him."

Severus stood, wrenching away from Dumbledore's touch as if he had been scalded. "Then you at least acknowledge the abuse. Headmaster, he was beating the boy with a metal staff, upside his head and across his back.. And he was NOT holding back. Even the Dark Lord detests child abuse."

Dumbledore hung his head, clasping his hands before him. "Am I a fool, Severus?" he asked. His voice betrayed his guilt and shame, hardly above a whisper. "I knew from the beginning that the family was less than favorable. But, I just thought it was the best place, away from the mobs, and the fame. And the blood protections on the house, I thought it was the best place. I never once knew - never even imagined - that something of this nature was going on..."

Severus doubted that. His eyes tightened in suspicion. All the staff was well-aware that their 'beloved' Headmaster was omniscient, especially where Hogwarts' Golden Boy, Potter, was concerned. "I will not take you to Potter." Severus stated coolly, "And I doubt he'll come back to Hogwart's this year."

Dumbledore did not answer. He wouldd have to find a way to rescue Harry; even if it was only to keep him from losing faith in the old professor. He had to do something.

Harry was still reeling from the fact that he was in the home of his most hated enemy. "Why... why... why did he bring me here?" He questioned, his jade eyes narrowed. He wiped his perspiration-slicked palms against the bedcover, until the dazed thought: 'God, I must be wearing out the fabric' crossed his mind. It was not without some amusement, but it was something Aunt Petunia would never condone. Nor Uncle Vernon, if he had heard about it. Harry yanked his hands away, a sudden sickening thrill racing through his thin frame.

"You being abused, honey," The snake replied, with an almost human expression that could have been worthy of Molly Weasley on her face, "Me master couldn't stand to see it and stopped that horrible man from hurting you any further. Tom's a good boy 'e is."

"Yeah, very good," Harry said neutrally, his features calm. The violent bursts of anger that had welled up at the beginning of the summer, the harsh all-consuming adolescent rage that had flared constantly, always simmering just beneath the surface, had disappeared. It had been beaten out of him, for "talking back" or "mouthing off" from the beginning of the summer, whenever he had expressed a single complaint about the treatment he had recieved. Every little injustice had seemed to be worse in the few weeks after Sirius's death. Now that same little bitterness rose within him, and he offered a sulky glare to the snake, "For killing my mom and dad, and godfather, and the list goes on and on like the Energizer Bunny." Harry quipped in a fit of petulant sarcasm. "I've got to get out of here." Harry shoved the blankets away and made to climb out of the immense bed.

"I would not do that, young Potter." came the gruff voice of the Dark Lord. "You have no where to go now. For you are not, at anytime, returning to your own personal hell."

Voldemort seemed to glide, robes trailing over the floor, to where Harry sat in the bed. "How are you feeling? Any pain at all?"

Harry swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. Why would he care? Surely, the Dark Lord wanted Harry in pain...that's what he was best at.

Voldemort continued in his relentless questioning, not allowing the boy a chance to answer. "How long has that kind of treatment been going on?"

Harry shrugged his narrow shoulders in noncommital reply.

The man shook his head. "That is not an answer. You tell me how long this has been going on, and why you never told anyone."

The Boy-Who-Lived looked down, his face burning with shame. "For as long as I can remember." He admitted reluctantly, "And, I didn't want anyone to know."

"He could have killed you," Voldemort spoke, voice very low, "Do you realize that?"

"Why didn't you let him?" Harry demanded, the question at the front of his mind bursting free, "Your problems would have been over."

Just as the discussion was about to get extremely interesting, a male house elf appeared at the door. He didn't look at all like Dobby had, when the Malfoy's had been abusing him. He looked startlingly well treated. "Master, Master Snape is here, says he has something for you."

"Send him in." The Dark Lord commanded. What could Severus possibly have for him? The only thing it could be would be either information or a potion...and he had requested neither.

The House-elf did as asked and within a few minutes Snape had entered the room, moving swiftly and without ceremony. Harry looked at his professor, as if communicating his confusion and fear. For as long as Harry could remember, Voldemort had been trying to kill him, and now all of a sudden he was saving him?

Snape removed a corked vial from a small case in his pocket. He noticed Harry looking and snapped the lid to his alchemy kit shut, with an almost self-conscious air. He quickly handed it to Voldemort. "I brought a nutrient potion for the boy. And Dumbledore knows Harry was taken from his room last night."

"And how much else does he know, Severus?" Voldemort asked him flatly, without any sort of preamble.

"What do you mean, my Lord?" Snape asked, feigning innocence in the usual calm tone of his voice and an arched brow.

"Stop acting, Severus." Voldemort said, then exhaled a deep breath. "I know perfectly well that you are a spy for that headmaster, Dumbledore."

Snape's dark-fringed black eyes widened. The Dark Lord had found out his position. He would surely be dead in a matter of moments. "Master...my master...I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." Came the simple reply, though there was a hard edge of accusation in the Dark Lord's tone. "How did Dumbledore find out that Harry was taken, if you didn't tell him? There were no other wizards present last night." Voldemort took the vial from Snape and handed it to Harry. "You, take that potion. Severus, I know all about it." His eyes flashed crimson, "I know more than you ever wanted me to."

Harry watched the exchange. He expected someone to kill someone. Hopefully Snape would be the killer and would take Harry to Hogwarts. He didn't trust Voldemort. However, he did take an experimental sip of the potion. He found it was somewhat warm, obviously freshly-brewed, and it did not have an aftertaste. It rather tasted like the fresh-squeezed orange juice they had the morning before the students left Hogwarts.

"So tell me, just how much does our dear headmaster know about Harry's disappearance?" The Dark Lord asked again, the steel edge in his tone sharpened to a blade. "Reply satisfactorily, and honestly, and I may spare your life for betraying me."

"He knows that Potter is here. He wanted me to tell him exactly where, but I refused. He was the one who placed Potter with those Muggles, and he was the one who never bothered to check on him. And he was the one who always insisted he go back."

Voldemort's ashen lips tightened into a grin. So, Snape wasn't as loyal to Dumbledore as he thought. "And what was his reaction?"

"He claimed that he never knew what was going on."

Voldemort rose to his feet, flaring in anger. "He's lying. He always knows, ALWAYS! In fact, I wager he didn't even bat an eye. What kind of professor, let alone HEADMASTER, sees a child come into his school, covered in scars, thin as a twig, and doesn't even ASK the child why? What kind of PERSON sends a child willingly to that! None, that's what kind, NONE!" The scream tore from his throat, "He knew!" He raged furiously. His voice dropped, "Just as he knew.."

Nagini turned to Harry, shaking her head slowly. "Dumbledore 'as a 'eart as empty as a bottle of water on a 'ot summer day."

Harry bristled slightly, almost forgetting where he was, "No, he doesn't." The boy protested, "Dumbledore is the best wizard there is. He's the headmaster, he'd never let anything bad happen to me on purpose."

"Like HELL HE WOULDN'T!" Voldemort shouted, ablaze with fury. "You're naive boy, naive and gullible. You don't know what that man is capable of. He only wishes to use you, as a weapon against me."

Snape nodded in solemn agreement; finally realizing that even if Dumbledore had not have known, he had never bothered to check on the boy or send someone to check on the boy or send another to check on him. "Potter, it is the truth... Dumbledore is not perfect, and he's so hung up on what the right thing is that he is willing to hurt others in order to achieve it. Remember last year, at the Ministry of Magic, the Department of Mysteries?"

"Yeah, Voldemort possessed me and told Dumbledore to kill me if he wished to kill him. But... he didn't do it."

Voldemort turned to him. "Only because he did not have to in the end. You forced me out. Don't be so stupid, child. The man was all happy for the chance to destroy me, even if it meant having to kill you along with me."

Snape and Voldemort ended up stating in the same instant: "And you are never returning to him again!"

Petunia sighed softly to herself and turned away from the window over the sink, wiping the last white porcelain dish dry. She frowned slightly as she missed a spot, drying with increased vigor. She returned the stack of clean plates to the overhead cabinet, shutting the cabinet door slowly. She caught sight of her reflection in the polished oven door and exhaled, swiping a wayward strand of blonde back into her neat bun. She wiped her hands on her linen apron, wondering: 'Is this what's become of me?' Aside from the careworn lines time had worn by her eyes and mouth, she still looked similar to the girl she had been: a faint hint of gingery-gold always remained at the roots of her hair, no matter how many times she had concealed it with dyes. Her eyes had still had the slight cant of the Evans family to them. A nervous and confused girl, yet with a passionate love of attention and theatrics. The girl she'd been had not lived this well, she reminded herself firmly, as she fixed a mug of tea. She scalded her finger on the teapot, hissing slightly in pain, though she never burned or got injured quite as badly as she could have. The girl she used to be had been left to her own devices, in a London flat, with none besides her books and pets for company. The woman she used to be was a lonesome university girl with thick glasses for the myopia that ran in the family and baggy sweaters who circulated petitions and was disgusted by the "cult of the patriarchy." The housewife she'd become was perfectly-happily-married-thank-you and not even good enough at faking her happiness.

The doorbell chimed, and she carefully wiped away the ring her teacup had left on the colorless countertop. She was startled to find a purple-robed man standing on her doorstep when she swung the door open. "Y-you're one of them," she stammered, cringing. Her mind fuzzily searched for a name. It was the one who had written her the letters, she'd recalled. The long series of letters she hadn't been able to ignore, in the two years before her sister's death. Albus Dumbledore.

The man's words confirmed it. "Yes Madame, I am Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster at Harry's school. I've received word that he's been kidnapped."

Petunia drew in a breath. Her shaking hands and nervous demeanor did not cease. She weaved so many tangled webs, why not one more? "Oh!" She gasped softly, "It was horrible, Vernon tried to save him but...he was too late!" She forced fake tears to trail down her cheeks and chin.

Dumbledore placed a gnarled hand on his chin, stroking his chin. "Really? Hmmmm, is it true that your husband was beating the boy when he was taken?"

"Oh no! Never, he'd never hurt dear Harry. Why he'd sooner cut off his right arm than lay a hurtful finger on the child." Petunia protested in a concerned voice. She clutched her hands to her thin chest, eyes wide.

Albus nodded, still stroking his long silver beard. "Why don't you tell me exactly what happened last night, when Voldemort took Harry." the gray-haired wizard asked her.

Petunia launched into a quickly-fabricated, frenzied and detailed description of the event. She had a quick, inventive mind still. "Vernon tried but that madman did something, and Vernon was knocked unconscious...he fell backward, nearly onto Harry. But HE at least stopped that. Vernon's a big man, had he fallen on Harry, well, it would have hurt. But oh, we tried so hard." She covered her mouth with her neatly-manicured fingertips and gave a sorrowful whimper.

The Headmaster nodded in gentle understanding. "Was anyone with him?"

Petunia inclined her head in the affirmitive. "Yes, several of them, in long dark cloaks, wearing white masks. Oh, you must save him, we love him so much!" Wasn't that what she'd said - and meant - that night she had to report to the wizarding police after seeing similarly-robed figures trailing after her sister? Aurors, she recalled faintly. She'd wanted to forget, the sudden burst of pain and the shout of that Latin word she loathed when one of them had noticed her looking flatly at her. Pain. Cruciatus. She remembered, as if from a dream, getting violently ill in her Latin class the next day while conjugating that very verb. She wanted to forget, she'd begged and pleaded Lils to make her forget, but her perfect sister had only looked at her with those flashing green eyes and murmured, 'Pets, have good sense. You're going to need to know all of this, I think. It's better you know what I'm going through.'

"Did they seem confused at all?" The headmaster pressed her gently.

"Eat your lunch dear, you're much too thin." Nagini instructed Harry, her tone almost maternal.

Hours had passed by since Snape had been there. Harry could not seem to believe that Dumbledore was as bad as they had said. "Dumbledore really is very nice. He's never done anything to hurt me." He insisted.

Nagini cocked her head to the side. "Nothing, eh? 'E's never kept secret? Never told 'alf truths? Not even to 'keep ye safe'?

"Well, there was last year." Harry said slowly, "He didn't tell me the Prophecy until last June, he wouldn't tell me what was going on with the war. Maybe if I had known what Voldemort wanted me at the Ministry for, Sirius would be alive...but..." Harry trailed off. He liked this snake. She had the inherently good nature of Professor McGonagall coupled with the kind affection of Mrs. Weasley.

"Did ye ever try saying anything about yer 'ome?" Nagini suggested, tone lowering, "Did ye ever ask to stay at 'Ogwart's?"

Harry thought about it. Why didn't Dumbledore even ask why he never wanted to go back to the Dursley's? Harry had asked enough times to either stay at the school or with Ron and his family. It made no sense. Did Dumbledore even think about checking on him before he got his letter? Did the Headmaster even care? Or was Harry just a tool to him? He did not know. Did Dumbledore WANT him to be abused?

"I CAN NOT BELIEVE THIS! She was lying!" Severus raged at his employer, his fury all but blazing.

Dumbledore held up a hand. Jeweled rings and an expensive, finely-crafted watch glittered in the light. They had been 'gifts' from trustees of the school board, all extremely wealthy gentleman from old families.

"Severus, I have no reason to believe that this woman is lying. It is possible that you and other Death Eaters were confounded to make you think that is what happened." The man stated. "And I believe that is what happened."

Severus turn his back on the Headmaster. "You'll believe anything…" He murmured quietly, a shadow passing over his gaunt face. His features were hollow, as if he had been under a great deal of sleepless agitation over the past several days. "Especially if it means you're always right." He spoke as though he were just realizing it for the first time. As if he was viewing the headmaster in a light he did not like. "Even when you're wrong." Severus stood and went to the door.

"Severus, where are you going?" Dumbledore demanded, though not without a sense of bemusement. Normally Severus trusted him. But apparently that trust was shaken.

Severus put a hand on the polished brass doorknob, his black eyes glittering. "I never realized how blind you could be, when you want to. Potter will not be returning to Hogwart's. I will not attempt to change the Dark Lord's mind, as I happen to agree with him. He will not be returning, and neither shall I." He strode out the door, and out of Hogwart's……for what the Potions Master intended to be forever.

Voldemort was seated in the parlor that also doubled as a study. A long scroll was before him on the antique writing desk, showing a list of possible areas for a decent raid. A crystal ink jar and a large eagle feather quill rested nearby. It was difficult being a Dark Lord for an occupation. A raid took weeks of planning. If it was an important one, then it could take several exhausting months. Before he had been forced to take a hiatus at Godric's Hallow fifteen years ago, he had once had a raid that had taken a full two years to plan out to the very last detail. Of course, this planning period was always worth it. It was how he always came out on top. But for some odd reason, his heart wasn't in it tonight. Seeing how Harry was treated reconfirmed his belief that most Muggles were worse than filth underfoot and that they deserved to die, but… he could not seem to find the energy to plan his attacks that night. Finally, he sighed and put the paperwork aside. He crossed over to a small, old-fashioned Muggle radio that he had charmed to work without electricity. He also managed to get stations that no radio in that part of the Bristish Isles could receive. Closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath he settled into his easy chair to the tune of "Beaches of Cheyenne," a popular country song among muggles in America.

He'd sooner die than admit it, but he enjoyed country music. Through the music he allowed himself to drift into a state where life was easiest, his own private haven he retreated to when the crippled state of the world was overwhelming.

Meanwhile, Harry had decided to explore his surroundings, with Nagini beside him to make he sure he wouldn't lose consciousness - the snake had insisted. He found the manor to be a very interesting place. It wasn't really all that big, just big enough to comfortably house about a dozen people if needed. And he supposed that, at times, it was. He had expected to find the rooms filled with torture devices, but had been shocked to find that the mansion was even more normal than the home of the Dursley's neighbor, Arabella Figg, the Order member.

The vast, warm kitchens had at least four House Elves working in it, all of them looked content to be working. He saw that none of them had scars, scrapes or bandages from injuries, self-inflicted or otherwise. Somehow that put him at ease. One of them toddled over to him, with a quick half-bow. Her slight smile was a startlingly human gesture.

"Master Harry, can I get you anything." She spoke properly, as if she had been taught. No other House Elf he had ever met could speak so correctly.

"Um…no…but you can answer a question for me," Harry started. He crouched slightly to be at eye level with her. "Are you and your friends happy here?"

The House Elf nodded crisply. "Oh, yes. We are all very happy. Master Voldemort is very kind to us. He saved us from cruel masters. All of us."

Harry blinked. He would never have expected that. "How come you don't talk like other House Elves?"

"Master taught us grammar. He told us that after appearance the second thing anyone notices or remembers is how you speak and that it can make a difference on how we are treated." She smoothed her small handmade skirt, which Harry just noticed.

"You're wearing clothes…" He stated, stopping to look at the well-made dress that was ankle-length on the dress. "I thought that clothes set a house elf free."

The House Elf nodded. "Yes, typically, but master says that wearing towels and rags is insulting, he wishes us to dress properly, as we are not merely creatures of burden but people. He had our clothing specially made, little uniforms, although each is different it still states that we belong to him."

These answers said more about Voldemort than he had ever known before. Perhaps the man wasn't COMPLETELY evil. At least, Harry thought, he didn't mistreat his elves. He bid goodbye to the Elf and left the kitchen. Nagini was waiting for him. She never went into the kitchen with the elves... the temptation was too great.

He continued his trek through the mansion until he heard something, sounded something like music. However it was nothing like the music he heard on the WWN. "What is that sound?" He asked Nagini.

"Oh, Master's listening to 'is country music again." She said simply, tilting her head in a strange manner so that it was slightly closer to the wood of the closed door. Harry suddenly remembered that snakes heard through the vibrations in the air.

However, the boy was perplexed. He didn't know what country music was, the only music he ever heard was on the BBC or the WWN. "What's that?"

"It's American music, me master enjoys it immensely. 'e listens to it when 'e's feeling stressed." Nagini explained, pulling away from the door.

Harry looked at the door, finding it stamped with a serpent. "That is me master's sitting room. Ye should knock before entering." the snake advised.

Harry tapped on the wood, slowly opening the door. It slid forward silently, on well-oiled hinges. He saw Voldemort sitting in an overstuffed recliner. It looked like a normal sitting room, and he found that thought comforting. He bit his lip, making a quick decision, and walked in front of the chair, where he saw that the man had his slanted scarlet eyes closed.

The lines of her face were relaxed. "I believe you." Harry stated firmly, bringing Voldemort out of his reverie.

Voldemort cracked open an eye to regard him. "Believe what?" He felt a prick of irritation about being interrupted, as well as a slight irrational burst of embarrassment about someone finding out about his secret passion for muggle music.

"About Dumbledore." Harry said again. "I believe you."

The rest of the night was spent talking about Harry's options. He of course chose, to not go back to Hogwart's.

"I'm tired of being used." He stated simply.

Voldemort nodded. "I understand completely. I wasn't going to let you go back anyway. But you do have a few other choices you need to make. You will need to complete your education, and I know that Durmstrang would be willing to help you do that, or you can be home-schooled. I will teach you myself."

"You?" Harry didn't expect that. Of course, he didn't know what to expect anymore.

"Yes, me. I have no doubt that you will learn a lot more with me than with those biased worms at Hogwart's."

Harry looked away. He didn't think they were all biased, just Dumbledore. He also thought that if he had been manipulated, just how many others had Dumbledore ruined through his delusions of right and wrong.

"Do you think he would have really killed me?" Harry asked. "At the Ministry?"

"I do. He only hesitated, because there were others around who would have questioned the killing of an innocent boy, even it was to destroy the infamous Dark Lord." Voldemort smirked, proud of his title. "Showing hesitation showed those watching that he did not WISH to kill you to get to me. However, he's wanted my death for a very long time, ever since….." He trailed reminiscing a time when he had been almost exactly like Harry.

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Ever since what?"

"Never mind, it is irrelevant, actually it's very relevant, but it's nothing I wish to discuss with you. Just understand that Dumbledore is more worried about image than anything." Voldemort stated bluntly. "Now, you need to make a decision. And your friends, you realize that they will be on Dumbledore's side. That man's already got the muggleborns and most of the half-bloods on his side, and a good deal of the purebloods. You won't find yourself with many of the friends you had at Hogwart's."

Harry nodded, he understood that, however much he hated it. "I never thought that he would use me like that."

"Yes boy, I know, I felt that way once. As you can see though, I'm not naïve anymore. And as soon as Severus returns with what I asked him to retrieve for me, we shall see just how far Dumbledore intended you to go."

As if on cue, the Potions Master stepped through a green fire. He carried in his arms what Harry recognized to be a pensieve. "I brought what you required of me, Master." Harry noticed that Severus looked perfectly livid. "And for your information, the only reason I didn't kill the Headmaster is because I thought you two might like a crack at him first." He looked at Harry with an expression that said he had been so wrong to think that he had been spoilt by his relatives.

Harry looked at Snape with question. "What's in the pensieve?"

Voldemort took the item from Snape while answering the question. "You told me the prophecy, well, I didn't buy it. Something didn't sit right with the way you recited the verse. You also said that Dumbledore showed you the memory from HIS pensieve. Well, it's time you learned that memories can be tampered with."

"The Dark Lord told me to go to Trelawney herself, and to get HER memory. She may

have not remembered the trance, but the part of her brain which stores memory never forgot." Snape added. "You were right my lord."

Snape tapped the pensieve with his wand and out of it rose a holographic Trelawney. Her eyes were glassy and her expression slack as she spoke.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. … Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … only together can they exist. With the death of evil must come the death of good … The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies. …"

Voldemort slammed a fist on the table as the crackpot teacher faded from the atmosphere. The morbid tone of the prophecy lingered. "I KNEW it!" He looked at Harry. "He was playing on that prophecy. And he was counting on me not knowing the whole of it, the night that I attacked."

Harry was in shock. He had accepted that Dumbledore had willingly kept him at the Dursley's despite the unsavory treatment. He had accepted that Dumbledore used a lot of people in getting what he wanted. Why, if it hadn't been for Dumbledore than Sirius would still be alive. And so might his parents be. But that Dumbledore meant for him to die in any number of ways was too much to process.

"He went to the Dursley home." Severus told them. "He got that woman's statement, and got a load of bull in return. He was trying to convince me that I had been confounded."

Voldemort had to chuckle. "That man, he is persistent."

Nagini hissed at Voldemort. "It might be a good idea, to take the kid outside now, Master. 'E's just a boy, and needs 'is exercise. Let 'im ride 'is Firebolt per'aps." She was really trying to get them out of that awkward situation. The boy didn't need to hear that someone he had once trusted really meant him harm.

Voldemort nodded and hissed in reply than turned to Harry. "Your things are in your room, in your trunk. I trust you will find your broom there. Nagini will take you outside to ride it. Don't worry about accidentally leaving the grounds, they are warded. Nagini will bring in at exactly six p.m. for dinner. You will wash up before coming to my table, understand."

Harry nodded and left the room with the giant cobra, leaving Voldemort and Snape to discuss the boy and his unfair life.

Later that night, Voldemort summoned his Death Eaters to him. This was a situation that needed to be resolved.

"My faithful followers," he began silkily once they were gathered into their usual circle, "I have received further confirmation that there is one who could be considered even more wicked than we." He began as his confused members rallied tighter around him. "And yet, no one but us has come to realize it. It is an enemy discreet enough to slip into the hearts and souls - nay, the very lifeblood of the wizarding world. It is deceiving your own children, trying to turn them against you and our cause. We cannot have that any longer." Voldemort railed, raising a hand in the air to emphasize his words.

Lucius stepped forward and sketched a bow. "My Lord, what is this new foe? How is it getting to our children?"

Voldemort's expression hardened further. "Oh, it is not a NEW foe. It is one we know quite well. However, I am JUST learning of how terrible this enemy is. It is Albus Dumbledore. In less than a month, he will have your children in his clutches again, manipulating them to his ways, Even if these ways will get them killed. Oh, he may say that he means them no harm, but for some, he honestly does. You will all of you, remove your children from his school, at once." Voldemort's eyes flamed an angry, scorched red. "They will further take lessons from myself and, of course, the Potions Master, Professor Snape, who just this afternoon quit his position at Hogwarts. Your children are not to be put in his path again, ever, until we are ready to finally put Dumbledore under the ground, at last." Voldemort finished his command, snapping up his gaze. "Well, you have your orders. Leave me!" All of the Death Eaters began Apparating out of the room. Voldemort paused. "Lucius, not you, I want to have a private word with you."

Lucius Malfoy remained, in spite his confusion, at his master's order. "Master, how can I serve you?" He went to one knee before him, a silk-lined sable cape trailing over the stone floor. His gloved hands were clasped over one knee.

Voldemort deliberated, before the tense lines of his face loosened a fraction. "Your son." He stated coolly, before finding the path he wanted to establish, "He is Potter's age. Is that right?" Lucius inclined his head in the affirmitave. "I thought so. Bring him here tomorrow morning, at eleven o'clock sharp."

Again, the platinum-haired man nodded. "It shall be as you command, My Lord."

"Good, Lucius. Go now." Voldemort dismissed the man. Alone, Voldemort realized the quiet stillness that had overtaken the mansion. Even Severus had left, most likely to get his things from Hogwarts. He did not bother to stop his coming yawn, as he headed for his quarters, feeling the long stretch of the day finally settling upon his weary shoulders.

Harry laid in the big bed he had woken up in that morning. He found it difficult to sleep however, he had absorbed too much that day. Feeling warm, he had left the large window open. He wondered idly if Ron had ever received the post he had sent two days prior. As if prompted by his thought, Hedwig fluttered in carrying two letters in her beak.

"Hello, girl." He traced a finger along her crest, earning a nip on the finger. "How did you find me, huh?" It was a stupid question. Hedwig always knew where he was. He took the letters from his precious pet and tore open the first, recognizing Ron's loose scrawl.

Harry,

Where the bloody hell are you, mate? We heard you had been kidnapped by You-Know-Who! Dumbledore said, that if we wrote to you, you might be able to send us a line, telling us where you are. You should, you know. Dumbledore'll come and rescue you before HE can do anything to you. Don't worry, mate. Dumbledore'll save you.

Ron

Harry grinned. He knew he could never blow off Ron. He would write back, and tell him everything, except where he was. Ron deserved to know about Dumbledore. He quickly opened the envelope that was marked with Hermione's cursive.

Harry,

My dear, you better be safe! I can't believe it! How did he get past the wards on your house? Dumbledore says he went to your aunt's. She's very worried about you, Harry. But don't worry, Harry. We'll get you out of there, please don't give up. We'll save you, I promise. Don't you dare let him kill you!

The letter was signed with her usual "Love from, Hermione" send off, though she'd modified it to read "Very much love (and worry; please, please be careful) from Hermione" and it seemed as if her hand had trembled as she signed her name, as the quill had veered sharply, sending a broad slash of ink across her pretty signature.

Again Harry had to smile. His friends were so dear to him. It wasn't their fault that Dumbledore had fooled them, too. Dumbledore had fooled nearly everyone. He put his letters on the nightstand, opting to write to them in the morning. He petted Hedwig as he lay down into his pillow. She cooed softly this time, lowering her head slightly. Hedwig took a perch on the bedsheets, under her master's gentle touch to sleep that night. She tucked her head beneath a snow-colored wing. Harry removed his glasses and stroked her again. Both were easily lulled into slumber. Neither saw Nagini slip in and tuck the boy in tight, scratching Hedwig's head with her tail quickly before slipping back out.

At precisely eleven the next morning, Lucius stepped out his master's floo, his son in tow. Draco was fidgeting, in nervousness, in his fine robes. He had never had the privilege of meeting his father's master and he wondered what the Dark Lord wanted with him.

"Draco, relax!" Lucius attempted to calm his son. "I assure you, the Dark Lord has a good reason for asking specifically for you."

"Ahh, Lucius, you have always been so punctual." Voldemort stated as he entered. He saw Draco and grinned. "And this would be your son, no doubt. Step forward, Young Malfoy. Let me get a good look at you." Draco stepped closer to the Dark Lord.

Voldemort examined the boy, head to toe. "Good, good, you have grown into a fine young man."

"I am glad to have pleased you, my lord." Draco said, as if he had been practicing.

"I have a job for you, Draco." He turned his head and hissed in parseltongue at the door.

The door opened and in came Nagini as she led Harry to them.

"Malfoy!" Harry growled, he hated the boy, and the feeling was mutual.

"Potter?" Draco looked at the Dark Lord skeptically.

"Harry, Draco, you two are going to spend the day together. Lucius, you are going to take Harry and your son into Diagon Alley. The boy's clothes are much too large for him, and I'm sure that his school robes are too small by now. He must go to Madame Malkin's at once. Make sure that he gets garments for both school and everyday, as well as new dress robes." Voldemort ordered.

"Yes my lord." Lucius bowed in submission. He only looked up when a piece of parchment was thrust into his face.

"This is a list of the books they will both need as they will be learning from me starting in September."

Lucius took it and looked at the two boys. "Well, shall we be off then."

Harry and Draco glared at each other before nodding. They each stepped to the fire and after crying their destination they stepped into it. Harry as usual fell on his face when getting out.

"Smooth landing, Potter." Draco scoffed.

"Sod off, Malfoy!" Harry bit back.

Lucius ignored their bickering, it was normal. Instead he looked at the list the Dark Lord had given him.

Potion-brewing At It's Best by Nicolae Filbuster

Dark Arts: An Overview of Advanced Curses and Hexes by Roberta Jenkins

Occlumency vs. Legilemency by Gregor Krabs

Charming the Snake by Bertha Prince

Defending Against The Unknown by Kershin Matil

Animagism: The Art of Finding Your Animal by Krew Praxis

Transfiguration for Dummies by Gol Lindrem

Harry and Draco tried their best to ignore each other throughout the outing. However, Draco had one question that he was burning to ask. But every time he got the courage he backed down. It really wasn't his business, and he didn't care, really. It wasn't until they were finished shopping and sitting at Florean Fortescue's having ice cream sundaes, courtesy of Lucius, that Draco finally decided to go ahead and ask.

"So, what are you doing with You-Know-Who?" The blonde asked his longtime enemy.

Harry didn't want to answer, but he knew that if Draco had asked, he wouldn't leave it be until it was answered. "He saved me, from my uncle." Harry saw that Draco didn't quite understand and launched into a lengthy description of what had been going on at the Dursley's. He told Draco everything, from the time he had been taken into their home.

Draco was quiet when Harry finished. He suddenly felt bad for treating Harry like he had since first year. He knew why Harry had always taken offense at his comment of having no proper family and why he clung so desperately to the Weasley's. "Wow……abused? By your uncle? Man, I knew muggles were hippogriff droppings." He went back to his sundae.

"HARRY!" Came an ecstatic cry.

He turned to see Hermione running at him. She gwomped onto him and hugged him so

tight, he thought he might pass out from lack of oxygen. "Eckk, Her….mione…..can't breathe."

She released him. "Oh, sorry Harry. How did you escape, I thought I might never see you again!"

Harry was about to say that he hadn't escaped when a red blur latched onto him as well.

"Harry, mate! I can't believe it, you escaped so soon! Wow, You-Know-Who really must have had his hands full just trying to keep you down!" Ron exclaimed, glad that his best friend was safe.

Lucius stood to grab Harry from them and apparate out but Harry stopped him. "Please,

just let me talk to them. They deserve to know."

Hermione looked at Harry oddly. "Know what Harry?"

"Harry, mate, what are ya talking about? And…..why are you with the Malfoy's?" Ron

asked, he and Hermione had just now noticed them, clearly engrossed in the fact that they had found their friend.

Harry told them everything, from the beatings to Dumbledore using him for a tool. He tried to leave out the fact that the abuse was about as regular as someone who had overdosed on X-Lax.

"But Harry, Dumbledore would never keep you somewhere, where you weren't safe. Are you sure that Voldemort hasn't used a charm of some kind to convince you. It's possible. There are several curses that could do such a thing." Hermione explained as only Hermione could.

"And what's worse, you actually believe him, over Dumbledore. That makes no sense, mate. Dumbledore would never hurt any student, no matter what." Ron protested. "How could possibly trust Death Eaters over Dumbledore?" He asked, obviously not realizing that what he was saying could get him killed.

Harry sighed, he should've expected this. He didn't know where to go from here. He had told them, wasn't it there fault if they believed him or not?

"Potter, take off your shirt, show them your back." Lucius instructed.

Harry looked at him. "What for? What good will that do?"

"Your uncle was hitting you over the back and head with a big metal stick, would that or would that not leave a few marks?" The blonde Death-Eater pointed out.

Harry nodded, understanding and removed his new shirt and turned so that they could see his back. He heard Hermione gasp and begin to sob at this discovery. He just feel the anger radiating off of Ron.

"DAMN MUGGLES!" The red-head shouted. He knew that no self-respecting wizard would use fists or objects to inflict pain, only magic would do. "And Dumbledore NEVER knew about this!"

Harry turned to his friend. "Of course he knew, he knows everything doesn't he? And if he didn't, it's his fault, because he never checked on me, he just left me to their devices." he raved.

Hermione continued to weep. "Oh Harry, we had no idea this was happening. I swear, we would have never let that continue if we had. But you're right, Dumbledore would have known. He let this happen to you." She sobbed uncontrollably.

Ron put his arms around her. Obviously over the course of the last couple days they had gotten much closer. "But mate, still, going to You-Know-Who!"

"I didn't GO to him, he came and got me. He was coming to kill me that night, but instead he saved me. So maybe he isn't all that bad, ever think of that?" Harry asked,

Lucius grabbed Harry's wrist gently. "And now it is time for us to leave, bring your sundaes with you." He and the two boys left Ron and Hermione standing there, confused.

Harry sat on his big bed, reading Potion-Brewing at it's Best. He found the book to contain a lot of very interesting potions. Such as the Invis Potion, that turns the user invisible for an hour per ounce consumed, or the Avitarius Potion that would give the consumer the ability to fly through the air unaided by broom for two full hours. He was engrossed in said book when there was a knock on the door. The door opened to let in the Dark Lord.

"Lucius told me that your two friends were in Diagon Alley today." Voldemort told Harry. "He also tells me that you told them about Dumbledore."

"Yes, I did." Harry replied. "I don't know if they believe me, but they did see the bruises on my back. So they did believe me about Uncle Vernon at least, guess that's something."

Voldemort nodded. "Yes, but I hope you know the danger you just placed your friends in."

Harry cocked an eyebrow in confusion. "Danger? You mean besides from you?"

"Do you really think that, assuming they believe you, they're gonna keep quiet about it?" Asked the Dark Lord. "And do you really think Dumbledore would allow them to pass on this information to people, say The Daily Prophet, or Witch Weekly, or even The Quibbler?"

Harry's eyes went wide. "He wouldn't kill them?"

"Honestly, I wouldn't past him. There are two big differences between Dumbledore and myself. If Dumbledore finds a way you can be of use to him, he will use you, whether he likes you or not. He will buddy up to you, do everything possible to gain your trust. And when he's through with you, depending on whether or not you catch onto him, he'll either drop you like a sack of rock cakes, or kill you. Me, if I don't like you, I'll just kill you. There will be no beating around the bush. You will know point blank if I like you or not." Voldemort told Harry rather bluntly. "But Dumbledore will always make it so that he comes out smelling like a fresh picked rose. When was the last time you saw people afraid to mention Dumbledore's name? When was the last time you saw people crying because he killed their loved ones? No, if he has to kill someone HIMSELF, he always look like a hero, a martyr for his people." The man spoke like he knew all too well what he was talking about.

Harry hadn't thought what might happen to his friends, when he told them. Now he was, but now it was too late.

But the Dark Lord saw the boy's lost gaze. "Do not worry however, this one time. I've already taken care of it. That man will not be permitted to abuse his position and power any longer. I have two house elves keeping an eye on both houses. And if your friends decide to tell their parents, or Dumbledore himself, my elves will bring word to me, and I will go and bring them here myself." Voldemort explained. "But be sure that you do not tell anyone else. Understand?"

Meanwhile, in the Weasley home, Ron and Hermione were already talking to Ron's parents about what they had seen.

"Mum, there were these huge black bruises on his back." Ron described, using hand movements to indicate how big they were.

Hermione was quick to add. "Yeah, and the books with Voldemort in them say that he never uses physical force, only magic, so it couldn't have been him. It had to be his relatives."

The Weasley's listened skeptically, although Molly's face did drain when her son told her how bad the marks were.

"Are you sure about this kids?" Mr. Weasley asked them when they finished their tale.

Ron and Hermione both nodded. "He was in danger there, and he says You-Know-Who saved him. And Harry wouldn't lie about that!" Ron told his father insistently.

"So we can only logically conclude that he was telling the truth and that Voldemort does indeed have something good in him. And that Dumbledore was setting Harry up, all those times."

"Kids, you must have something wrong there, Albus would never mean any of his students to get hurt, let alone killed." Arthur told them.

Molly looked at her husband. "But what if it was as they say, Arthur? Maybe we should ask Professor Dumbledore about it."

Mr. Weasley put a hand to his chin and went to his floo. He threw in a pinch of powder and called out. "Dumbledore's Office."

Albus was filling out paperwork for the year when the fire flared up and Arthur Weasley's head appeared inside it. "Ahh, Arthur, how is your family."

"We're doing fine, Albus, but could you come through right now, we have something important we need to ask you."

The Headmaster put aside his paperwork obligingly and came over to step through the fire. Once inside the Burrow he saw the serious glares coming from the two children on the sofa.

Albus smiled at the Weasley's and to the teenagers glowering at him. He couldn't figure out why they would be so cross with him. "So, Arthur, Molly, as much as like visiting you and your lovely home, can I inquire as to why you have invited me on such short notice?"

Molly went to put on a pot of tea for the Headmaster as he did like refreshments when he came to visit. "I'm afraid you'll have to ask the children, they're the ones who have the questions."

"We saw Harry." Ron started. "In Diagon Alley."

Albus beamed. "You did? Was he safe? Was he alright?"

Hermione shrugged. "He looked like he was perfectly fine, except for the bat-shaped bruises on his back. Now, Headmaster, how do you suppose he got said bruises?" She asked him sarcastically, yet with a polite tone.

"I assume the Death Eaters will have done something to him. He must have escaped, where is he now?"

Ron stood. "Not so fast. Hermione explained to me, what a bat was, a muggle object used in a game called baseball. Why would any Death Eater have one?"

"Ron, don't be so rude, he is the Headmaster. He must treated with respect." Hermione said with a smirk. "But I agree with his question, why would the death eaters carry bats? Hmmm?"

Dumbledore found himself at a loss. "Are you sure these bruises were genuine, and not magicked?

Hermione nodded. "You can't fake bruises that bad, Headmaster. Nor could you fake the

pain he was in just getting his shirt off to show us?"

Dumbledore looked down. "What is your question, my dear?"

"Was Harry being abused at the Dursley's?" Ron asked.

"Well, Severus mentioned something about abuse, but I went to the Dursley's and talked to his aunt. And she seemed to care for Harry a great deal, and she assured me that her husband never once hurt him."

"I think she lied." Hermione stated plainly. "And before you ask, why would she lie, the answer to that should be painfully obvious, I would think. It was bad form not to investigate further. And that brings me to my next point. Why would someone NOT look into it further? Simple, because they already KNOW that it is happening and they WANT it to happen. Because maybe, just maybe there is a prophecy that states that if Harry dies, so will Voldemort." She pursed her lips together and looked at Dumbledore for his answer.

Once more Dumbledore was flabbergasted. He was caught completely off-guard for the first time. "I…..don't know what….you're talking about dear."

That however was the only confirmation that the two teenagers needed. "It's true isn't it?" Ron asked. "I wanted to think somehow that Harry was being confounded, but no matter how I tried, I knew my best friend wouldn't lie to me! I also know that he's stronger than that! But it's true, you were using Harry all along! Weren't you!" Ron was devastated, to think that the greatest Headmaster that Hogwart's had seen in ages would actually do something like this. "Did you want him to die? Would you even be sad? Would you even

care?"

"Is he nothing but a tool for you?" Hermione added. "I can't believe you would do this?

Not you! The Ministry maybe, the rest of the Wizarding world maybe, but not you, never you! Looks like we were wrong. How could you do this!"

Arthur looked into Dumbledore's eyes. "Albus, what they're saying, implying, it's not true is it? Would you really want Harry to be killed in the fight, even it was the way to be rid of You-Know-Who?"

Dumbledore didn't answer. He knew that they would always be able to tell if he lied to them. He hadn't had to worry before, as they had never asked. No one had ever questioned his motives before, but now….he didn't know what to say. They would believe him whatever he said, but the teens would not. He pulled his wand from his pocket. "I'm afraid it is true Arthur. But I only was thinking of the good of the wizarding world. And I'm sorry, but I can't allow you and your family to be able to tell others about this. I know you could promise that you wouldn't. But I couldn't ask you to lie for my sake, so the only way to heal this situation is to modify your memories. I beg you all to forgive me." He raised his wand to the family and opened his mouth to speak the words.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" came a loud, gruff shout. Dumbledore's wand flew from his hand and into the hand of one Tom Riddle Jr. "I knew this might happen, Headmaster." He gave a guttural laugh.

"Tom!" Dumbledore turned to the perpetrator, his arch-enemy. "I suppose I should ask why you've come."

"That would be a good first question. You see, I am here to stop an injustice from occurring, specifically you wiping the memories of a family that can finally bring out the truth about you." Voldemort told him.

Dumbledore grinned, the twinkle in his eye, ever present. "What are you talking about, Tom?"

"D'you think that I'd forgotten. About my fifth year, when Professor Dippet died, and you suddenly wanted to adopt me. I remember it well Professor. You wanted me to be your son, or so you told me. It wasn't until I heard you talking to another professor about how you had been officially appointed headmaster that I realized what you were up to. You had wanted to adopt me, so that it would make you look good to the Board of Governors. You must have told everyone the week before the official appointment, that you were adopting me, sounding so proud of yourself. But you never wanted me, as soon you got that appointment, you ignored me. You forgot all about me, and I ended up back at that orphanage. You forgot that you had promised me a place in your home. And then the next year, you tried to make it up to me, sounded so guilty, I believed you. But then I heard you once more, talking to Fawkes. About how you were soon going to be the Minister of Magic, and all because of one simple urchin who simply adored you, and wanted to call you dad. Remember how I interrupted you, Headmaster? How I threatened to go to the Daily Prophet with the news that Headmaster Dumbledore Has Ambition to Take Over Wizarding World." Dumbledore blanched. He should have memory-wiped that boy years ago, instead of what he'd tried to do. "The whole rest of the year, I met with accidents, accidents that almost always nearly killed me. But they weren't accidents? Were they?"

All eyes turned to Dumbledore. "Now, Tom, you always misunderstood me. I never planned to take over the ministry." He said quickly, trying to keep the Weasley's thinking that this was merely the rantings of a mad man. "I really did intend to adopt you, you just never trusted me enough to allow me that joy. I hated sending you back to that orphanage."

Voldemort scoffed. "Just as you always hated sending the Boy-Who-Lived back to that hovel of a home? And you never knew did you, how I was often ridiculed and beaten for being different than the rest of the children? Just as you never knew Harry was coming back to school, looking as though he'd had too much liposuction? You probably never noticed the scars, when Poppy had him in the Hospital Wing." Voldemort went over everything Harry had told him, and everything he had observed when fighting the boy.

"And how odd, that Poppy never noticed. Perhaps he was using a glamour, but no, whenever we fought, I always noticed that he had more scars than normally gained from a year at your school, and he always had more each time. So there could have been no glamour involved, perhaps you concealed them from Poppy, so that she wouldn't say anything. Well Headmaster, nothing to say to that? Hoping your little golden boy will still have so much trust in you, like I did? I have news for you. Your little golden boy is a lot smarter, aren't you Harry?" Voldemort stepped aside to allow Harry Potter to step in.

"As a matter of fact, I most certainly am." Harry stated. His eyes were fixed coldly on his former hero.

Molly rushed to Harry and pulled him into a crushing embrace. "Oh!" She gasped quietly,

"Harry, dear! Thank Merlin, you're safe! Are you all right? They didn't hurt you, did they?"

Harry shook his head and stepped back, genty untangling himself from her zealous embrace. "The only one who has hurt me is Dumbledore." He responded, turning an icy glower to the Headmaster.

Albus looked back at Harry, a spark in his ice-colored eyes. The spark was like the snap and crack of a twig in winter's first frost. "My boy, I never did mean to hurt you. Why, you're like a son to me." Dumbledore put a "caring" hand on the boy's shoulder, looking directly into his eyes.

Harry's cold look began to soften mysteriously. He remained pale and drawn, but the untouchable, aloof quality he'd had shattered. "Like a son?" He repeated, though his tone sounded empty.

"You know that I would never do anything to hurt you." Dumbledore continued, not removing his chilled eyes from Harry's.

"Never….hurt…." Harry parroted haltingly.

Voldemort quickly grabbed Harry by the shoulders, shoving Albus' hand away. Protectively, he thrust him behind himself. "Get away from him!" Crimson eyes flared dangerously.

Ron glanced to Hermione. "What did Dumbledore just do?" He questioned.

"He was using Mind Break, a spell that allows a wizard to control another wizard's thoughts. It's much more powerful than the Imperius, and more dangerous." Hermione explained.

Molly crossed the room in three rapid strides, jabbing a finger into Dumbledore's face. Her infamous temper cackled about her. She was terse and tense, and, though furious, she seemed rigid and stony. Her sharp features were stiff, even her utilarian dark gray robes could have been made of granite. "How dare you us such a dishonorable charm against such an impressionable child!" She said harshly, glaring at him hotly, "I would never have thought it of you, Albus!" She seemed irate; disgusted, even.

Harry put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Mrs. Weasley," He said quietly, trying to calm her frayed ends, "I expected it from him. I just dropped my guard temporarily."

Dumbledore decided it was time to use his trump card. "Harry," he chided, soothingly,

"You don't know how sorry I am to hear that you feel that you cannot trust me, but what do you think Remus would say, if he knew you had sided with Voldemort."

However, the old mage's confidence waned when both Tom and Harry smirked and exchanged a glance.

"I don't know, Headmaster. Perhaps we should ask him?" Harry looked at Voldemort.

"Brilliant idea, boy. As long as he get the facts from an impartial party, hmm, maybe your muggleborn friend." He replied, his eyes landing on the bushy-haired girl standing off to the side. He strode over to her. "What is your name, girl?"

Hermione steeled herself to answer him. She drew herself to her full height and ran her tongue along her bottom lip. "Hermione Granger, sir." She answered.

"Miss Granger, you have nothing to gain by agreeing with me, is that right?" Voldemort asked her, meeting her eyes.

"Nothing at all." She stated honestly. She knew that whether she lied or not, if he wished to he would kill her without hesitation.

"And you have nothing to lose or gain by agreeing with Dumbledore?" He questioned once more, studying the girl.

She considered, before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She inclined her chin slightly. "Does my sense of dignity and integrity count?"

Voldemort all but smiled. "Then we can count on you, for a truthful recount of the events and the facts you have learned thus far?"

"Yes, sir." Hermione nodded crisply, clasping her hands before her the way she often did. She looked him straight in the eyes. Hazel met garnet for a brief moment. She did not back down. "I will be sure to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

He nodded in return. "Yes, yes. You're not on trial now."

At that precise moment, the front door was nearly flung off its hinges. A lanky, bony man with brown hair entered. He was clad in robes that, although slightly worn, were not as shabby as usual, though he looked almost unkempt, as if he had not slept in several days. His cinnamon eyes landed on Harry and he was quick to catch the boy in his arms, in a slightly awkward embrace, as if he hadn't hugged the boy so warmly in quite some time, and he was unused to Harry's new height. "Harry! Harry! I thought…I thought we'd lost you forever!"

Harry hugged Remus in return, glad to see his father's old friend again. "Hey, Professor Lupin!" He smiled. "Sorry if I worried you."

Remus continued to murmur how worried he had been until a presence drew his attention. He found himself looking into the ruby eyes of the Dark Lord. He stood, and whipped out his wand. "Harry! Stay back!"

"Professor Lupin, it's all right! He's not an enemy. Not to me, anyway. He doesn't want to kill anyone at the moment." Harry rushed to explain. "He's actually the reason I told you to meet me here. You see, I think once you hear the story, from both sides, that you'll understand."

Remus glanced to Voldemort sideways, before his eyes shifted back to Dumbledore.

"Story? Dumbledore, is there something I should know before I hear it from someone

else?"

Dumbledore did not say a word, a tactic which was often prescribed by lawyers when they know their client is sunk no matter what they say.

Voldemort looked to Hermione. "Young lady, as our impartial party, please tell Mr. Lupin everything you know about the situation."

Hermione sat for almost twenty minutes, telling Lupin everything. And Dumbledore was horrified to see Lupin's expression. The man believed her.

Lupin stalked over to Albus. "Is this true, Albus?" His tone clearly expressed his emotions on the matter: if he didn't get the truth, heads would roll.

Albus let out a mournful sigh, a downcast shadow crossing his face. It was a theatrical set up, one that would have been convincing if it hadn't been so obviously false. "It is true, Remus. I greatly regret it. However, it had to be. The prophecy stated that only through Harry's sacrifice could our world be safe forever from the Dark Lord."

Harry burst. "It's only sacrifice when the one killed is willing to do it. And I might have been, if you had told me the truth from the beginning." Harry raged. His walls had broken, all the anger had flooded him, swift and fast. "But NO you lied to me! You lied! I trusted you, and you lied! You used me!" He hollered. Emotions were speeding fast, breaking free, "I thought you honestly cared about me! But I was wrong! Me, sacrifice my life so that you can look like the hero, yet again, renew the fame you had when you defeated Grindelwald? Forget it."

Albus looked prepared to raise his wand once more, or to attempt his Mind Break trick again, but the Weasley's, Lupin, Ron and Hermione, and, of course, Voldemort stepped in front of Harry. The Dark Lord regarded the Headmaster with the most menace, although Lupin and Molly were both tied for a close second. He had no choice but to Apparate from the Burrow, and back to his office where he would brood over this situation.

Lupin turned to Harry, guilt filling his shadowed face. "Harry, I had no idea that

Dumbledore had planned something like this! I am so sorry!" He pulled the boy close to him. "But are you sure that you can trust the Dark Lord?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. He saved me. I never expected that to happen, but it has. So maybe, he does have some good inside. And maybe it's up to me to bring it out."

Voldemort looked to the Weasley's. "Now, Dumbledore is hardly about to give up, so I will be taking your son, and Miss Granger with me. It's not a request nor an option. It is the only way to make that Dumbledore does not get away with his deception any longer. Miss Granger's parents will have been notified, and her things already at my manor. Mister Weasley, another of my servants will also have already taken your things. Now come."

Harry extracted himself from Remus' hold. He looked at Molly and Arthur, amazed that they weren't objecting to this decision. "Don't worry about me, I'll complete my education, just not at Hogwarts. And Snape will be with us too." Although Harry did not see that lifting the weight from the werewolf's agitated mind.

"All right, Harry. You take care of yourself, and, remember, I expect a letter every day."

He hugged the boy once more, after which he left with the Dark Lord and his two dearest friends. Remus watched them walk down the path with a stray tear in his eye. "James, Lily, Sirius……if you can hear me now…."

A week had gone by since Voldemort had foiled Dumbledore's attempt to modify the memories of Ron and Hermione. Ron and Hermione were still in the process of getting used to living with the man they had grown up to fear. Harry was spending most of HIS time with the man, learning the techniques Dumbledore would be most like to use to get back his Golden Boy and avoid having his reputation dragged through the mud. Snape was often dropping by, with innumerable items from Mrs. Weasley, although he didn't enjoy being a messenger boy for the woman. Voldemort had halted all attacks on muggles for the time being. He had gotten the perfect idea for ruining Dumbledore once and for all, but it would take a lengthy amount of time.

"Master, the Headmaster has contacted me again. He is not letting up on his pleas for me to return to Hogwarts." Snape told Tom, as they discussed where to go from there.

Tom put a hand to his chin. "Perhaps you should return."

Snape's eyebrows rose questioningly. "Master?"

"Albus still has a hundreds of students under his thumb. He gets them young and pure, every year, and sets to manipulating them, raising them to his purposes. As long as Dumbledore has such unlimited power over their lives, we stand no chance of bringing him down. Which is why you are needed there. I want you tell the Headmaster that you'll return, under two conditions, that he agrees no memory charms and no mind charms, and two, all students must be required to take your class. You will be able to intercede in the man's blatant disregard for human rights. They must be allowed to believe whatever they want to believe. He cannot be allowed to control them, as he did Harry; as he did to me when I was there." Voldemort explained.

Snape was about to answer when a knock came at the door of the parlor. Hera, the Head House Elf, came in, dressed in her pink frock.

"Master Voldemort, the muggle postman brought you this." She handed the man an envelope, to which the man nodded. "Can I get anything for you and your guest?" She asked him.

Voldemort shook his head as he opened the letter. "No thank you, Hera, but do go and see if Harry and his friends need anything."

Hera bowed and left to fulfill her task. Snape meanwhile looked a little perplexed.

"Muggle mail, Master?"

"From my foreman, in Dallas." Tom explained, knowing Severus would not understand . As he predicted, Severus gave him the oddest look. "I own a muggle ranch in America, just outside of Dallas, Texas. Looks like there's the possibility for a deal on a new head of cattle. I'll need to go and make the final arrangements. That would be the ideal place to keep the children, until I can put my plan into action." He folded up the letter. "Well, Severus, you have your orders. Protect the Hogwarts students from Dumbledore, at all costs. They must be allowed to make their own decisions. And as you leave, tell Hera to have the three children come to me at once."

Severus left the room, to do as directed. Ten minutes later, Harry, Ron and Hermione all walked in.

"You wished to see us sir?" Harry asked, as his two friends were still a little shaky about speaking a word in the wizard's presence.

Tom nodded. "Yes, I did. We are going on a little trip, to my ranch in Dallas."

As Snape had been, Harry and his friends too appeared confused. "Your ranch?" Harry asked him.

"What's a ranch?" Ron asked, his curiosity winning out over his fear.

Voldemort explained. "I own a cattle ranch in America, it is where I get all my beef. In fact, all the food in my home, I receive from my ranch and my various plantations, that I bought with the money I got from selling all my muggle father's worldly possessions. I did not relish the idea of relying on a store for my necessities. All I have to rely on by owning my own little plantations and such, are my employees, who I made sure were trustworthy, as you know I am skilled in Legilemency. They could not defend against it either, as they are muggles, and they have no idea that I am a wizard. It is a good place for the three of you to be, as Dumbledore will not think to search there. Now, go and pack only the bare minimum of what you think you'll need, I will have the rest ready. You have fifteen minutes." He clapped his hands at them, as if to say "Chop, chop".

The three hurried from the room to do their needed packing. Ron went to the room he shared with Harry, while Hermione went to her own.

"I still can't believe we're LIVING with the Dark Lord." Ron exclaimed. "And now he's taking us on holiday?"

Harry laughed at his friend. "I know, it had me a little confused too, especially the first day I was here. It was like the world had just been flipped upside down."

Ron nodded in agreement. "I understand that."

Harry bit his lip. "Ron, I haven't exactly had the chance to say it, but, thank you, for believing me."

"Harry, you're my best mate, how could I do anything else?" Ron smiled. "I mean, I know Dumbledore was supposed to be the headmaster and everything, but how could I believe him, over you?"

"Well, still, just so you know, it meant so much to me, that you could stand up to him, for me, and with me. I've never had that before."

The two boys hugged, like two friends typically did, especially when it's in private without fear of being accused of being gay.

"Awww, ain't that sweet?" Came the hiss of Nagini, who had come to check on Harry and

Ron's progress. Harry and Ron pulled apart quickly, embarrassed. "Tommy told me that

'e's taking you three to 'is ranch in America. What a wonderful idea. It's time you three 'ad some fun. Now, 'urry up you two, you only 'ave a few minutes left."

Harry nodded. "Yes Nagini." He looked over at Ron who was looking freaked out at hearing Harry hiss back at the snake. "Don't tell me you're not used to it by now."

Later, the group was getting ready to travel by floo to Tom's ranch.

"Now, first off, everyone hand me their wands, you will not need them at the ranch. For we will be the only wizards and witch there. No one knows that I am a wizard, and I am able to live quite comfortably with the ranch hands and the hired help. We will appear in the fireplace of my study there, which is off limits to all of the maids and ranchers. When we arrive, I will give you all your needed clothing, it takes special wear to make it as a cowboy." He looked at Hermione. "Or cowgirl. Now, you all know what to do. Just shout out, Riddle Ranch when you throw it in. Harry, you first."

Harry picked up a handful of powder and stepped into the fireplace. "RIDDLE RANCH" He cried throwing the floo powder into the grate. The flames turned green and flared up around him. When they died down, he was gone

Harry tumbled out of the grate and onto the fine wood flooring of a library. He picked himself up just in time to see Ron step through and Hermione following and finally, Voldemort. The man had already changed his clothing, probably with a spell. Tom looked like a completely different person with long brown hair, in a pony-tail, a red flannel shirt and tight jeans. Brown cowboy boots completed the ensemble.

"What?" He asked noticing that all three jaws had dropped and their eyes had widened to the size of half dollars. "He pulled three miniaturized bags from his pocket and resized them. "These are your clothes. You need certain items that can get destroyed."

He handed a bag to Harry, one to Hermione, and the last to Ron. Harry looked into his to find an assortment of green western style clothing and a pair of boots. Ron found basically the same thing, only the majority of his were in maroon, at which he grumbled and Harry laughed. Hermione again found almost the same thing, only hers were regular cotton, in plain lavender.

"You will change into those as soon as the maid shows you three to your rooms. Afterward, I will show you around." He went and opened the door, leading them out, where they were immediately greeted by a woman wearing a light blue dress and white apron with white hair.

"Ahh, Mister Riddle, when did you get in?" She asked with a smile on her face and a duster in her hand.

"Just a little while ago, Dora May. I would like to introduce you to my new charges. Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They are staying with me for the summer, so if you would please show them to the guest rooms."

Dora May nodded and took the three teenagers to said guest rooms. Again Harry and Ron

were sharing one, which they were more than happy to do. After changing the three met Tom in the quaint little kitchen of the mansion. He stood up and motioned for them to follow him. He led them outside to the stables, where a group of men sat.

"Wow! Look Ron!" Hermione cried as a horse rode passed them, inside the corral.

Ron was already looking. The sky itself was leaving him in awe, he couldn't believe it could look so blue. The cool, yet warm breeze blew across their faces and ruffled their hair.

A man with short red hair peaking out from under his stetson stood up and welcomed his boss, and good friend with a hug. "Tommy boy, didn't think ye'd get here so soon."

Tom hugged back, used to this custom among the ranch hands. "How's it going, McGrange?"

"Ehh, we lost some of the cattle in a flood last month, but nothing too serious. It's why I worked on arranging a new deal." The man called McGrange told him.

"Speaking of which, I want you to call the man selling 'em, arrange a meeting for the day after tomorrow."

McGrange nodded affirmatively. "Will do, buddy." He then seemed to notice Tom's wards. "Hey, I see ya brought some company."

"Yes, I did, McGrange. This young cowpoke here, is my nephew. His parents, my sister and brother-in-law, were killed in a fire last month. I've been given the duty of looking after him now."

He missed how Harry frowned. It was as if the man didn't feel any remorse at all at killing his parents. He wasn't really all that surprised. But, he would think that after seeing what he had been through with the Dursley's, that the wizard would feel SOME regret. In fact, it was HIS fault. How could he just say that Harry's parents had died without at least faking a sorrowful expression.

McGrange saw the look however, and attributed it to missing his parents. He wasn't far off. "Well, that's a cryin' shame. At least ya got yer uncle though. Don't ya worry none, he's a good feller. And who are your friends?"

"Ron and Hermione." Harry said tersely sending a brief glare at Voldemort.

McGrange extended a hand and shook each. "Seth McGrange, foreman of this here ranch."

Voldemort saw Harry's glare. "Well, McGrange, why don't you set these two to learning how to muck out the stables, while I go teach my nephew how to ride."

The man nodded and took the two teens. Harry had to laugh at Ron's expression that seemed to say "Muck out, what?"

Voldemort meanwhile took the boy to the corral where the horse they had seen earlier strode over to them. "Harry, this is Black. He's a swell beast, and well tamed. Come, and try him out." Tom asked the boy, as he readied the horse with saddle and bit.

Harry shuddered at the name, memories from the Ministry fiasco overwhelming him but came over reluctantly. The animal was big, seemingly bigger than Buckbeak had been. He was a beautiful black stallion, his mane and tail a sleek white. "W…..what do I do?" He asked Tom, although he really didn't want to talk to the man right now.

Tom helped Harry get onto Black. "I raised this horse from a colt, when I found him in the wild. It's rare to find a wild horse now-a-days. His mother had been injured in a fall somehow, broke her leg and I had to put her out of her misery. But I took care of this foal. Now, hold onto the reins, and push your heels into the horse's hip." He noticed that Harry wasn't looking at him. "Look at me boy, riding ain't a game, you could get hurt."

"Like you'd really care." Harry muttered only loud enough for Tom to hear.

"What?"

Harry snapped his eyes at Tom's. "Like you'd care if I got hurt or not! You….don't really care! If you even had a heart, you wouldn't have killed my parents!"

Tom's eyes went cold. "Look boy, don't you dare throw that at me! Am I supposed to feel guilty for doing what I thought I needed to do to survive?"

"That's just what pisses me off! I was only a tool to you too!"

"WHAT? What is that crap!"

"You were willing to sacrifice the life of a baby and his parents just so you could continue your stupid vendetta against Dumbledore! How does that make you ANY better than he is!"

Tom sighed. "I never claimed to better than Dumbledore, morally. I'm just as bad, I know. But I was trying to survive, survival of the fittest in the wizarding world."

"Than you should have killed me, when you had the chance!" Harry countered. "It's YOUR FAULT I was STUCK with the Dursley's. If it weren't for YOU, I could have had parents who loved me!" Harry climbed down from the horse and ran out into the field,

forgetting that he probably wouldn't be able to find his way back.

"Harry! Wait!" Came Tom's shout, but Harry continued on. He hated the man, he hated him. How could he not feel even the least bit sorry for killing his parents. If only he had said that he was sorry then he might be able to forgive him. But he just COULDN'T!

Harry sat by a little stream he had found near the wood. He threw pebbles into the water as he thought. Maybe he had been better off with the Dursley's. He felt a lot more secure knowing where he stood with people, and at least they were ALWAYS honest about how they felt about him. He picked up a rather big rock and chucked it, overshooting the stream, a lot. It landed hard on something and he could swear he heard someone say

"Ouch." What he heard was explained when a small triangular head popped up.

"Mind watchin' where yer throwin' things Cowpie!" The snake asked him.

Harry gave an apologetic grin. "Sorry, I overshot the water." He noticed the snake go still.

"You can understand me?" The snake inquired again. This was unusual. A human never

spoke to him before. "How is that?"

"Oh, I'm a Parseltongue, I understand snake language."

The snake nodded in acknowledgment. "Well, since you're kind enough to have learned my language, I guess I can fergive that little accident, even though it did hurt a bit. Now, what's a young'un like yerself doing way out here?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing that can be fixed."

"Well, my ma always said, that if it's notin' that can be fixed then it's notin that can broken by talking about it none either." The snake explained. "By the way, the name's Garth."

"Nice to meet you, Garth, I'm Harry Potter."

Meanwhile….

"Severus, I am so pleased you're returning." Dumbledore told the man in his billowing cloaks.

Snape nodded. "And we're agreed on the conditions then?"

Dumbledore put a hand to his beard and nodded. "Yes, Severus, we are agreed. Please, don't think bad of me, I did what I did because I wanted the wizarding world to be safe again. A part of me thought the boy's death would have been worth it for our world to be safe again."

"I'd believe that only if you'd had the decency to tell his parents the day this prophecy was made. It should have been their choice as to whether or not to sacrifice their son." Severus snapped at the Professor.

Both grew silent, neither knew what to say at this point. Severus no longer trusted Dumbledore, and the old man knew it. He also realized that any chance he might have had to use Severus against the Dark Lord was gone. But the man was an expert Potions Master, and he had been unable to convince his old friend, Horace Slughorn to come to Hogwart's.

"So, you're living with the man who killed your parents, and he doesn't even seem sorry for doing it, is that the trouble?" Garth summed up as Harry finished his tale.

Harry nodded. "Guess I was better off with the Dursley's"

Garth pondered. "Them's the one's who beat you?" He asked, to which Harry nodded again. "And this man, he's a wizard, and so are you, this man bust into yer home, planning to off ya, but instead he saved ya?" And again Harry nodded. "Then no, I don't reckon you were better off with those others, why I have half a mind to go bite him, I'm poisonous ya know. I am a Diamond Back." Garth smiled with pride. "But if this guy saved ya, when he could'a killed ya, then maybe it's worth giving him a chance. Talk to him, calmly, 'bout how yer feeling, and try to walk a mile in his shoes."

Harry listened and sighed. "You're right, I guess, maybe I should go back and try talking. Hell, nothing else works." He stood up to see a black horse heading his way. It was Black.

Apparently Tom had released Black to come find him, probably using some kind of spell to control the animal. "Hey, would you like to come with me?" Harry asked Garth.

The snake shook his head. "Nah. I got a nice home here. But ya can always come visit if

ya'd like." He told Harry, as he got on Black just how Tom showed him. "See ya 'round kid."

Harry didn't know what to do except press into the horse's hips to get him to go.

"Um….home…." He commanded the stallion. The horse started back towards the ranch, or at least Harry hoped that's where he was going. He was hoping Tom did have a control spell on the creature.

Harry did talk to Tom that night and got things resolved as best as they could. The problem had been that Tom thought that Dumbledore was as much if not more responsible for the Potters' deaths, and therefore he refused to take the blame squarely for it.

"How can you say that you're not more responsible than Dumbledore? You're the one who killed them! You're the one who took Trelawney seriously."

Tom nodded. "Yes, and that was a mistake in and of itself. But I would never had heard of the prophecy if Dumbledore had not TOLD Severus the prophecy, or rather the part he wanted me to hear." He explained.

"You mean, Dumbledore and Trelawney weren't interrupted on, or eavesdropped upon? He TOLD Snape?"

"Yes he did. And Snape told me, which Dumbledore counted on." Voldemort clarified.

"He set your parents up Harry. And contrary to popular belief, I've never honestly been PROUD of what I've done. Proud of my abilities, yes, proud of my followers when they achieved their missions, yes, but never of what I have done."

Harry looked away. "So, you're saying you would never have bothered with my parents if

Dumbledore hadn't force fed you a bunch of Trelawney's bull? You're saying you wouldn't have wanted to kill them for defying you thrice?"

"I can't honestly say yes or no to that particular question. It was years ago, and we both have changed, haven't we? But I can honestly say, that if Dumbledore had not have interfered then we would have found out. You could very well have been sitting with your parents, having tea at this very moment, if he had not took it upon himself to see to your death."

"I know…..that Dumbledore's been setting me up all these years, but the thought that he would willingly set my parents up too, it's….hard to believe."

Voldemort nodded in agreement. "It wasn't easy for me either, when I found out how he was playing me for a fool. He's been playing you boy, the way he played your parents, your godfather, and everyone else who has crossed his path. The man will tell people that I don't have any love in my heart, and that love is the best weapon against me. He says my followers are merely servants, but they're more than that, they are friends, friends that are as loyal to me, as your own friends are to you."

Harry smiled at that thought. He did care about his friends, and they were painfully loyal to him. He was sure about that, especially after they were nearly killed at the Department of Mysteries to help and protect him. He could understand what Tom was saying there.

"He told me that. He said that the "power the dark lord knows not" meant love, the love of a mother and father's sacrifice."

Voldemort laughed. "Did I call that or what? Obviously he has no idea what LOVE is, if he didn't expect Lily Evans to do that. I would have done it, if you had been my son and someone had been trying to kill you." The man stated before falling quiet again. "Only a true monster would kill an innocent baby, Harry, I've never killed a baby before, nor have I ever REALLY wanted to. When I first saw you, probing your mother, not realizing that she was dead, nor that I had killed her. You looked at me, with those two green eyes of yours, and I could swear that you were innocence personified. You had a look in your eye that begged me to wake her for you. I almost didn't try to kill you, but I did." The man again grew quiet after giving that last bit of speech.

Harry gave him the oddest look. "Why do I believe you, when you say that? Why do I trust you, of all people, when I've never trusted anyone before?" He asked him.

Voldemort didn't answer that question. There was no need, because Harry already knew. He didn't know that he knew, but he did know.

"I think that's enough questions for now. You must be tired, the time difference is much greater here, it'll take time to get used to. Your friends are already in their rooms, you should be off too." Tom told Harry. "Go on, to bed with you. I'll be having my servants wake you promptly at four a.m."

"Why so early?" Harry asked. He didn't even get up that early at number 4.

Tom smirked. "When you live on a ranch, there is chores waiting to be done. Don't give me that look, even I do chores around here. It's farm life." Tom concluded.

Harry crawled into his bed, and almost immediately fell into a deep sleep. As he slept a fog seemed to roll into his head. He found himself in a dark void for a brief moment, before light brightened the place. He saw he was in the middle of Stone Henge. The sun was shining through a clear blue sky, and a breeze chilled the air.

"Harry…" Came a call and his eyes snapped to the rock in the center, and there a woman sat wearing a long white dress. He knew who she was, after seeing her picture so many times.

Harry opened his eyes wider. "Mother?"

The red haired woman smiled sadly. "My son, why have you forsaken me? Why have you forsaken your father?"

"What? I never….."

"You have gone to the Dark, Harry, why? Why have you sought shelter with our

murderer?"

"Mum, you don't understand the situation…..he saved me. From Uncle Vernon."

"Only to brainwash you against us, against Dumbledore. Dumbledore has never done anything to harm you, he never would. He never knew about Vernon and Petunia."

"Wrong, he did know. He knew, Mum. He never did anything about it!"

Lily hung her head. "Son, Dumbledore is not perfect, and he is not omniscient. He had no way of knowing."

"Mum, how can you defend him. He set you up. He knew what the prophecy said, and he never told you. He never told you that you would have sacrifice me, your own son."

"Oh, but he did, Harry. He did tell us." Lily assured the boy. "He told us, your father and I knew what we were getting into."

Harry narrowed his eyes. Something wasn't right. "You're lying……you put yourself in front of me, to save me! You're lying and you're not my mother."

"That's right Harry." Came another voice. He turned his head and there stood another Lily Potter, only this one was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. "That imposter is not your mother." The ethereal being glowered at the fake. "Why don't you show us who you really are?"

In the real world 4:05am

"Harry, wake up." Hermione prodded her friend fruitlessly. "Ron, you too. We need to get to the kitchen, it's time to get up."

Ron moaned and turned over. "Hermione, it's too early."

"Ron, Mr. Riddle told us to be up at four and ready for chores by quarter after. Now get up." She continued to shake and prod at her friend, but he wouldn't wake. "He won't wake up…..but why? Harry! Wake up now! This is starting to get scary!" She hoped her friend was already awake and just playing a joke, but no matter how she continued he would not budge.

"Ron, we need to get Tom, Harry won't wake up." Hermione told her boyfriend.

Ron moaned once more but forced himself out of bed. Luckily for Hermione he slept in boxer shorts, so she didn't get an eyeful. Together they made their way to the kitchen/dining room where Tom sat drinking a strong cup of coffee.

"Where is Harry?" Tom asked immediately.

Hermione spoke quickly. "He won't wake up, I tried everything, but he won't wake up!"

Tom stood to his feet and made for the boys' room. Harry was laying in his bed, as Hermione had left him. He hadn't even rolled over or anything. He grabbed the boy's shoulder and shook him.

"Potter! Wake up!" He called out loudly. But Harry didn't wake up. Tom tried several times more, but to no avail. He sighed. "You too, go back to the kitchens, eat your breakfast and go out to the stables. McGrange will be there to start you on your morning chores. Harry will join you in time."

"But what's wrong with him?" Ron asked.

"There's only one thing that will keep a wizard in such a dead sleep. He's having a Morpheonic Dream."

"A what?" Ron asked but Hermione simply pulled him out of the room whispering she'd explain at the table.

"Why don't you show us who you really are." Lily challenged the fake once more. The imposter Lily narrowed her eyes before laughing.

"I should have known I wouldn't be able to fool your son, Lily." A shroud of smoke cloaked her, and when it dropped, Albus Dumbledore stood in her place. "He is after all, so intelligent. He was taught well."

Lily scoffed. "Yeah with no thanks to you!"

Dumbledore put up in hands in mock surrender. "Now Lily, Lily dear, I never meant any harm to your son. I was attempting to test him, to test his resolve to protect the wizard

world."

"LIAR! You set James and I up. I had it figured out two minutes after Voldemort broke the wards on our home! We would have chosen Sirius for our Secret Keeper. But you, no, you insisted that Peter would be the better choice. You said that Peter was ideal because of his cowardice." Lily shook with pent-up anger. "But you KNEW that he was with Voldemort. You set us up! You've been using Harry for years, and now you're trying to do it again. And what's worse, you tried to use his memory of us, his parents, against him."

The wizard sighed. "Lily, I apologize. I was only trying to do what I felt needed to be done. Hundreds were dying at the hand of Voldemort every week. When I heard the prophecy, and when your son was born I felt that if it only took one more death to rid the world of him, then it worth it."

"So you lied to us, to me and James. You didn't know that we'd try and PROTECT Harry? You didn't realize that I would do everything in my power to see that my son got to live his life?" Mrs. Potter glared at Dumbledore. "Leave here, leave my son alone."

Dumbledore had no choice of course. His purpose for being there had been upset. He

looked at Harry with a brief look of fury, but he quickly replaced it with one of shame and regret. Smoke covered him once more, and he was gone.

Lily turned to her son. "Harry, just so you know, your father and I are happy that you've found someone who will take care of you properly, no matter who it is. You haven't betrayed us at all. Don't believe that old hop-toad." She wrapped her arms around him.

Harry hugged her in return, feeling the love of his mother in her hold. He knew that this is what it meant to be held, and what it was to be loved. He tried so hard not to let go, and she was the one who eventually pulled away. "Mum……are you going to leave again?" He asked, his voice breaking.

Lily nodded. "I'm sorry son, but my time in the living world is over. I can't be here now. And you have to wake up, and be with your friends." She told him. "And I do believe you are late for your chores."

Harry groaned in mock-disdain and smiled. "I love you Mum."

"I love you too son. Don't worry, I'll tell James and Sirius that you're doing alright, if I can get them down off their brooms for five minutes." She kissed his forehead. "Now, you need to wake."

The place went dark again, and his mother disappeared. A few moments later, he opened his eyes to the real world. On a chair next to him was a concerned Tom Riddle. However, in his concern, the man had fallen asleep again. He sat up, the creaking in the bed stirring the sleeping wizard.

"Oh, you've awakened." Tom said fighting off a yawn. "Can I ask what happened in your dream?"

"You know about my dream?"

"Yes, when we couldn't wake you, I knew what was happening? Let me guess, Dumbledore?"

Harry nodded. "He was disguised as my mother, trying to make me feel guilty for turning away from him. But my REAL mother came and gave him what-for."

Voldemort grinned sadistically. "She did, did she? Well, the old windbag had it coming to him, that and so much more. I should have known he'd try that sooner or later. I'm surprised he hasn't tried using a long-distance spell to make you terminally ill which would thereby kill me. The man is that desperate."

Harry got out of bed and went to the wardrobe where a clean pair of clothes, like the ones from yesterday, were hung up nice and neat. He pulled it out and went into the bathroom to change.

"Now, you be ready in ten minutes, and in the dining room. Your friends are already on to their chores, you need to catch up if we're going to do what I have planned today." Tom shouted to him as he left the room.

Later in the day, after everyone had done their share of chores, Tom readied them all to learn how to ride a horse.

"Alright, you three, before we do anything with these animals, you have to swear that you will do exactly as I instruct you." Tom told them sternly. "Riding a horse is just as dangerous as riding a broom. You make a single mistake and that could find you paralyzed, without a leg or arm, or worse, dead." He watched as they each jumped. Actually, I correct what I said a moment ago. Horses are even more dangerous. It's one thing to be riding something made of wood, something you put your will into. A horse is a being with a mind of it's own. No amount of magic (said after making sure no one was about) will make that horse do what you want it to do. Only skill and caution will do that."

Each one of them nodded.

"Ummm, but couldn't a wizard save himself with magic, if something went wrong?" Ron asked earning him an eye roll from Hermione.

Tom smirked. "Well, let me answer that question by saying that, some years ago, when I first bought the ranch, one of my younger followers tagged-along with me. I agreed to teach him to ride, if he, in turn, left me the hell alone after. I gave him all the do's and don'ts of riding, however, after a few hours of doing the activity, he thought he could try something a little more daring. He tried a jump much too big for the horse he was riding. The horse reared back then threw him forward. He smashed into a tree, and broke his neck." He was rewarded with a few timid looks from the group. "Now, first, we have to select a horse for each of you. We do this based on your size. Harry here, already has Black. Miss. Granger," Tom looked her over. "You would do well on Pluto." He opened the stall and led the ebony-furred thoroughbred over to Hermione.

The horse nuzzled her cheek gently. "Hee hee, that tickles." Hermione giggled.

The horse only went to nibbling at her hair, drawing laughter from her friends. Tom snapped his gaze to Ron and assessed his height and weight then went to another stall, where a placid gorgeous, brown Cleveland Bay lay in wait to be ridden. "You will ride Sugar Cube."

Ron looked wide-eyed and fearful at the creature. Sugar Cube however didn't wait for

Ron to acknowledge him, he just lowered his head and pulled at Ron's shirt with his teeth. "W…w…what is he doing?"

Tom laughed. "He's looking for sugar, it's how he got his name. Whenever someone comes they always give him a sugar cube." As if to prove his point, Voldemort pulled a couple of them from his pocket and gave them to the horse, then pat the horse gently on the nose. "Bought this one off a man who was moving back east. Best deal I ever made. Ain't nutin' better than a fine horse." Ron nodded and finally began to relax and pet the horse too.

Harry was already doing up the saddle and bit, like Tom had taught him the day before, on Black. "Am I doing this right?" He asked, to confirm that he was. He didn't want to do something that was hurting the beast of burden.

Tom nodded and proceeded to show Hermione and Ron how to saddle their horses.

"I'll show y'all how to tack your horses when we get back from our ride. Now, you three wait right here." Tom disappeared to another side of the stables and reappeared with a stunning white Egyptian mare. She was cuddling up to Tom, obviously he hadn't been at this place in a long time. His horse was already saddled and groomed. "Alright, now in order to mount, stick your left foot into the stirrup, that's the little foot thing at the side of your horse. Then pull yourself up and swing your right leg over and you're on." He demonstrated each step and landed with small plop onto the saddle. The three of them copied him, with one difference.

"UAhhh!" Ron cried out as he swung over too far, missed the saddle and fell to the ground, earning him a few laughs from the rest. "Owwww" But he did not give up. He tried again, this time making it into the leather seat. Tom stifled his chuckles as he gripped his reins. "Good, now in order to make the horse go, squeeze in with both heels, not rough but gently. Let's go." He squeezed in gently, which the other three again copied. The four horses made their way slowly out of the stables and into the cool morning air.

Meanwhile...

Dumbledore was pondering his situation. Arthur had already informed the rest of the order of his deception. He was still leader of the order, but they weren't too friendly to him much anymore. He figured that the ministry hadn't been informed because they wouldn't do anything anyway. He had received letters from the parents of all of the Slytherin students. They were all being withdrawn, except for probably the new comers of the year. He had to do something, anything. Before the rest of the parents of his students found out, before Snape told the other professors. Fawkes perched on his resting place, watching his master.

"Awww, Fawkes, what am I going to do. I must see that Voldemort is destroyed." He told the bird. "But the only way is to get Potter back, Potter's death is the only way. But now, Tom has corrupted him, turned him from me, and the rest of the wizarding world. And for once, I am stuck as to where to go from here." He stroked Fawke's feathers. Then he had an idea. "Hmmm, perhaps I don't need to have Potter here. Maybe" He went to grab a vial of powder from a shelf. He found an envelope and opened it. Afterward he uncorked the vial and dumped the contents into the packet and then sealed it. As he did a sprinkle of the stuff fell onto the wood table. Fawkes watched as the wood began to smoke and the powder ate a hole into the desk. He thread a string through the envelope and called a school owl. He couldn't take any chances on Harry figuring out who sent it and not open it. He used a spell to forge "From Remus" onto the front of the envelope as the tawny owl flew in. "You find Harry Potter, I think he was somewhere in America when he dreamed last night. Take this envelope to him, and hold the string." He tied the other part of the string onto the owl's leg. "Go on now,"

The owl spread his wings and flew out the window, heading in the direction of Tom's ranch. Fawkes continued to watch as the powder continued to eat away at anything in it's path, the desk, and now one of the Headmaster's precious trinkets.

It was almost dinner time when they returned to the ranch. Everyone was tired and Tom told them to go rest up before supper, and to be sure to wash up. Harry however, didn't really feel like resting in his room and took to exploring the mansion. He found a small door leading to what appeared to be an attic. It was a small gloomy place, although it was just an attic, what did he expect. There were tattered lace curtains in the varied windows in the room. In a corner was a dusty old brown piano covered in cobwebs. In fact, the entire place was covered in a thick layer of dust with another layer on top. He took to looking about, examining the varied items, brushing off the spiders and ick of the years. He found an old gold muggle watch, a pocket watch like he'd seen his Uncle Vernon carry before, with a long gold chain. Engraved on the lid was an ornate letter "R". Perhaps this had belonged to Tom's muggle father, but, Tom hated his muggle father, for abandoning his mother to a life of poverty and loneliness, to her death. Why would he carry any of his possessions. But as looked closer he found other items that might have belonged to the man's muggle half. He found a muggle photo, in a rusty bronze frame, of an older man who might as well have been Tom's much older twin, it looked like it must have been a bigger picture however, as it was torn, right down what must have been the middle. He found an old riding crop with the initials T.R. engraved in gold. Had Tom's father ridden horses? Was that where Tom got his love for them? He finally found what he was sure, Tom had meant to keep buried in the filth. He knew that he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself, he opened it. A folded, yellowed piece of paper fluttered out.

To my Father,

I doubt that you know who I am, although I am sure you will remember my mother.

She was Merope Gaunt and she used a spell to make you love her. I was the result

of that. I don't know if you know, but Mother died when she had me. Maybe you

Didn't know about me, when you left her, so I'm writing you now. I'd like the

chance to know you, Father. Please, say that you'll try and give me, your son,

that chance. I have no one else.

Signed

Tom Marvolo Riddle

Harry put the letter aside, he could not believe how a man could be heartless as to reject a letter from someone claiming to be his son. He went back to searching, finding another box to rummage through. He found he actually was enjoying himself. While it was a bitter sweet fun, after all, he was looking through a man's lifetime of rejections, still it was exciting always wondering just how much history his former foe was steeped in. He found a series of pictures, old photos of a little black haired boy, sitting, reading, sleeping, whatever pose the photographer had found him in. Obviously this other one must have been the orphanage's Colin Creevy. He saw that while they were muggle, Tom must have magicked them to color when he learned how, color photos hadn't been available when he was a child after all. He saw also that the young Tom bore quite a remarkable resemblance to himself. The hair was just as untidy, just as black. The eyes were the same vivid green. Just the way the boy in the picture looked when he was sleeping reminded Harry of himself. Turning away from the creepiness of that fact, he dove deeper into the box. He pulled out this time, a wizard photo contained in a red oak frame. In the photo was what must have been a much older Tom and a young woman. Strangely enough the man in the picture was smiling and fawning over the woman, and stranger still, the woman looked a lot like his mother. He thrust the photos and things quickly back into the box, now freaked out officially. He decided he'd better get to dinner.

At dinner…

"EEEK!" Cried out Dora May, as a small tawny owl flew in the kitchen window and landed next to Harry. "What is that thing doing in here?" She shrieked.

Tom smiled. "Don't worry, Dora May, sometimes we get mail like this in Britain." He watched Harry untie the letter.

"Hey it's from Professor Lupin." Harry announced and made to open it.

"Drop that letter!" Tom shouted. "Don't open it, don't touch it! Dora May, please leave us."

Harry dropped the letter in front of him. "What? Why not?"

Hermione looked at Harry. "Did you write Professor Lupin yet Harry? Does he know you're here?" She asked the questions that Tom had been about to ask.

Harry's eyes opened wide as he realized that he hadn't. So how had Remus known where to send the owl? He looked at the letter tentatively. "Do you think…" He looked at Tom.

Tom put his hand out. "Give me the letter, by the string." Harry obeyed and he took a small knife and cut the letter' corner and tilted it towards his water glass. A white powder poured into the glass causing the water to turn a dark green and fizz and pop violently. "Dumbledore just doesn't know when to give up."

Harry took his friends up to the attic he had found, to the box of items from Tom's youth.

"Harry, what if he doesn't want us going through his things, it's a complete invasion of privacy!" Hermione scolded.

"Oh, sod off Hermione!" Ron fired back. He was curious and wanted to know what was in the box.

Harry stopped their fighting by shoving the muggle pictures into Ron's hands. "Notice anything?" Harry asked. "Anything odd?"

Hermione and Ron looked at each picture with a scrutiny. Well, Hermione looked at them with scrutiny, Ron merely skimmed a glance. Hermione's eyes stopped with surprise.

"Harry, the two of you, look an awful lot a like." Hermione stated.

"What!" Ron exclaimed. "No way!" He looked at the pictures again, this time closer.

"Bloody hell! You do!"

Harry nodded and pulled out the wizard photo he'd found the other day. "This is obviously Voldemort, as a relatively middle-aged man, and that…" He gestured to the woman. "Looks remarkably like my mother, in fact I bet if I were to get my photo album out we'd find that they're EXACTLY alike." Harry said with fire in his voice, not angry fire, but furiously curious fire. "Why would he have ever been in a picture with my mother?"

"I do believe I can answer that." Came the voice of their keeper from the attic door.

Everyone jumped and turned sheepishly towards the voice. Tom stood in the door, looking, not angry, maybe annoyed but more embarrassed than anything.

Harry stood up. "Did you know my mother?" He asked the wizard.

Tom nodded. "Why don't you go on downstairs and wait for me. I'll tell you everything over a glass of lemonade, Dora's made some fresh." Tom told them.

The three embarrassedly did as they were told and went downstairs. Sipping their lemonade they waited for Tom patiently. They looked up as he came in solemnly, dismissing Dora to her duties, requesting she stay out of the living room for about an hour.

"So, I should have known the three of you would find my attic eventually, and with it, some of my deepest, darkest memories. And….as for it being your mother, Harry, I suppose you do have the right to know."

Harry nodded. "Then you did know her."

Tom smiled fondly as if remembering a dream he'd once had. "Yes, I did know her. I met her when I was thirty-one, and she was twenty, I suppose muggles call that a symptom of a midlife crisis. I suppose I should start at the beginning."

Flashback:

Tom Riddle was in his usual guise for when he went out for a simple drink at the Leaky Cauldron. It would never do to have people in a panic or enraged just because he needed a break from his ordinary life. It was his time to himself, for when he needed to relax in the ambient presence of his fellow wizards. Pushing back strands of sleek sable hair, he took a seat at the bar.

"Ahh, Mister Garret, always a pleasure seeing you." The barkeeper greeted him warmly, a smile lighting his face. "The usual, I expect?"

Tom nodded. "Thank you. Yes, I will have my usual."

The barkeeper went to it, retrieving a glass of cognace for one of his favorite patrons. Tom smiled to

himself, idly wondering what the man would do if he knew who he was serving. His thought process was interrupted when he heard the bell over the door jingle as it was pushed open. Normally, he would not have been paying so much attention...but tonight, SHE came in. Her, with her long, scarlet hair, cascading in a fiery waterfall, and the jade eyes that seemed to light up the dim room. Her, with the delicate creamy skin that he could barely resist caressing. She wore a short green dress, rhinestones accenting the bodice. She seemed to float upon the air as she entered, moving with a nymph-like grace. Surely, she could not be a mere witch. No, she had to be an angel or a goddess of some kind. Feeling disjointed from his body, he stood and glided to the girl, sweeping a deep bow.

"Milady, never have I seen such a vision of loveliness." He took her hand gently and kissed it. "Please, allow me the pleasure of your company."

The pink of her blush clashed with her crimson hair. She looked at the ground, an embarrassed smile on her pretty face. "Well, how can I possibly refuse when you ask so politely?" She asked, her unease seeming to fade slightly.

Tom led her over to where he had been sitting. "What'll you have my dear?" She hesitated. His eyes flashed sightly, "Pick your poison."

Finally, the tension left her face, and she grinned. "A lime daiquiri, if you're buying." She watched him give the barkeeper the order. "So, tell me your name, handsome stranger."

Riddle allowed himself a smirk. "I don't think you really want to know."

"Of course I do," She insisted, with a slight toss of her head, "Shouldn't a woman know with whom she drinks?"

Riddle considered this as their drinks were served. "Perhaps you should know. Let us finish our drinks and go out into Muggle London, and I will tell you."

After finishing their drinks, Lily and Tom left the bar for outside London. Tom was struggling with his self-control, but it was difficult. He was only a mortal man, after all.

"Now, will you tell me your name?" Lily asked with a seductive smile on her face. She leaned forward, unconsciously licking her bottom lip.

Riddle laughed and returned to his black hair and glowing eyes of emerald. "I my dear, am Tom Riddle."

Lily's eyes went wide, and she laughed nervously. "Uh," she groaned softly, suddenly dazed, "…I think I need another drink." she muttered finally, as she turned to regard the street and the Muggle car passing by.

A little while later, Lily was with Tom at a small flat above a general store. This was yet another place he went, whenever he just wanted to escape the pressures of being the leader of a band of killers, or what he preferred to call, liberators. In his mind, death and torture were preferable to being under Dumbledore's thumb.

"So, here we are," Lily sighed. "You're the most evil, powerful dark lord in an age, and I am a member of Dumbledore's Order."

"That you are, Miss Evans. Or..." his voice took on a slightly husky, more intimate tone, "Ought I call you Lily?"

Lily nodded, a quick, anxious motion. "Lily will do just fine. Did I miss something?"

Tom laughed, full of genuine mirth. "You missed nothing, my dear. You've only misheard a lot of information."

In the present…..

"So that's how I met your mother." Tom finished, facing Harry and his two friends. "After she got used to the fact that I'm not exactly a conformist, and after she allowed me the right to speak my reasons for my actions, she was willing to give me a chance."

Ron and Hermione remained silent. It was not their issue to get involved in, until their friend gave his permission.

"So why….didn't you get married, if you were so much in 'love'" Harry asked, looking skeptical.

Tom sighed. "Two reasons. One, your mother was always self-conscious. She was extremely worried about what people thought of her and she knew that if she married a man like me, hated by the majority of the wizarding population, she would be a marked woman, in spite of all my promises to leave my way of life for her, and to even bring her here, away from wizarding eyes. And secondly, she started going out with your father. And I found out that she was dating him behind my back."

Flashback:

Tom appeared in Lily's small home inside Hogsmeade. She was standing in front of a full-length mirror, running a brush through her hair. Her feet were bare, and she was wrapped in a white silk robe, looking ready for bed. "Lily, my love,"

Lily jumped and whirled to face him. "Tom, oh, I...I...I wasn't expecting you…" She was obviously nervous, something she never was anymore with him.

"Lily, I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth." Tom told her. Lily nodded and perched on the edge of her bed, gesturing for him to join. "One of my men came to me today, with some disturbing news. He told me that he saw you with one James Potter, one of the top men in Dumbledore's order."

Lily turned away from him, looking distressed. "Oh Tom…" she sighed, "…I was hoping….."

"That I'd never find out?" Tom asked brusquely. "It's true; isn't it?"

Lily stood and paced, twisting a lace-trimmed handkerchief in her hands. "It's true…" Twist. "I've been..." Untwist. "Dating him for a while now…" Twist. "And….." Untwist.

Tom stood and grabbed her hands gently. "I was hoping it was a lie, a sick lie…..Oh Lily……how could you?" This grated on his soul, his heart that was already covered with unseen scars.

Lily's eyes welled with tears. "Oh, Tom, I am so sorry, but…..I love him….so much."

Tom touched her cheek. "Do you really?"

The woman nodded, turning away from him again to hide her face. "I do, I do so much…and…he asked me to marry him…."

Tom's heart stopped, his insides turning to ice. "He…..asked you….to marry him?"

Lily nodded, back him. "I…..I….said yes." She turned and threw herself into his arms. "Oh, Tom, forgive me, it's just…..I love him…."

"Do you love him….more than me?" He asked her, dreading the answer to the question. Her sobs told everything he didn't want to know. He pulled her closer to him. "Then……there's only one thing I can do……" He pushed her gently away, "I hope you'll be happy… and don't let Dumbledore use you..."

He went to the fireplace, looking at her over his shoulder. "I'll always love you, Lily Evans. There will always be a room for you, if you ever need it..." With that, he stepped into the fire.

No one talked much the rest of the night. Harry was in shock to find out that his "arch-nemesis" had dated his mother. How was he supposed to accept this new information. His entire world in the short span of mere weeks had been turned on it's head and he wasn't quite sure what he should do. He also had the odd feeling that Voldemort had left out something. He had never explained why he killed his mother, even though he loved her. He just ended with his (Harry's) mother dumping him. He went to the window.

"I don't know what to do." He spoke, more to himself than actually hoping someone would hear. "Sometimes, I just….I think I know what's going on, but then….something like this happens. Maybe I really WAS better off at the Dursley's. At least I was sure what I believed. Now, I'm living with the Dark Lord, Dumbledore's trying to kill me, and GRRRRR!" He grabbed his head trying to clear it. Just then a sound outside his window caught his attention. The whiny of a horse, it sounded like, although after only a few days he really couldn't be sure. He looked out, and saw Tom petting Black. If he quieted his breathing, a lot, he could hear that Tom was also speaking to the horse.

"So, boy, what do you think of Potter?" The horse tossed his head and neighed as if in reply. "Yes, he is a good boy, no thanks to those relatives of his, I'd wager." He pet the animal's nose. "He still doesn't trust me, completely. He still believes that my only desire in life is to kill and worse to kill him and his friends. Well, I suppose I haven't done much to deter that belief. I wish I could tell him the truth….if only it wouldn't completely destroy him. A father should never be remembered that way. He really is better off believing the rest of the story. Even if it makes me out to be exactly what Dumbledore says I am. No one would ever believe it anyway. I'm the Dark Lord and that means everything I've ever done must be for some evil purpose. But just once, I wish I had the courage to prove that they're wrong about me, to prove Dumbledore to be the liar and manipulator that he really is."

Harry stopped listening, feeling a little guilty now. He supposed he shouldn't really, after all, it was the man's own fault. But he couldn't help it. Perhaps, he thought, he should really try and understand the wizard who was hailed as the most powerful dark wizard in an age. Maybe things really weren't as they seemed. Crawling into bed, he fell asleep with these thoughts, resolving to make an effort in forgiving the man.

The next day, Tom was watching the three teens practice their riding, with McGrange's help. He was just sipping at a glass of lemonade when a beautiful woman with dusty blonde hair in pig tails came up to him.

"Hello." She began. "I'm Jenna Krebs, I'm the one who's looking to sell some stock to ya." She stated.

Tom stood and extended a hand. "Yes, my housekeeper informed me you had called and that you would be coming by today. I am Tom Riddle, the owner of this here ranch. Do sit down, Mrs…."

"Oh, no Mrs. I'm not married. Just Jenna'll do fine, I think." Jenna told him.

As the two of them sat down to talk, McGrange was still with the kids.

"Yes, that's it now, ride tall in the saddle, but not too tall, don't want to give the horse to much weight to be carrying. Ron, you're riding crooked." Seth told them as they rode around a small corral.

Harry seemed to be the most agile on Black, and was quickly showing himself to be a natural at the skill. Seth was astonished at how fast the boy caught on to the most difficult of tricks. He called Harry over to talk with him about his abilities.

"Well, my boy, you really are a natural on Black there." Seth told him.

Harry nodded his head. "It's fun, riding him."

"How would you like to be in competition?" Seth asked him.

"Absolutely not!" Voldemort exclaimed when Seth brought the idea to him. "He's just learning to ride, he's not ready for a rodeo."

"But, Tommy, he'll be ready by time it comes. He's a natural at this thing. I'll train him myself, and I'm sure you'll remember all the gold buckles I won." McGrange explained. "Besides, it's a lot safer now a days. Come on, he'd be great."

Tom looked at Harry, who for the first time in his life dared to have a pleading look in his eyes. Tom thought it over for a moment. It would be good for the boy to know some real fun for once. He sighed. "Very well. But you must be very careful, Harry."

Harry smiled what Tom swore had to be the first sincere smile the boy had given him. Harry hurried back to his friends to ride, and to practice for the event which would be in three weeks.

Meanwhile, Remus was at what used to be Godric's Hollow. All the events of the past weeks had sent him into a need for memories. He walked into the ruins that no one had wanted to pick up, they didn't really want to accept what had happened to the family that had lived here. Fixing the home up would be like the straw that broke the camel's back. He walked through what used to be the living room, kneeling at the spot where they'd found James, laying dead from the killing curse.

"James, I'm sorry Harry's going through this. If only we had known what Dumbledore had been up to. If only you'd gotten to choose whether or not to sacrifice your only son. I know what you would have chosen, and maybe today you'd be alive. I'm so sorry." He touched his fingers against the very place where James' cadaver had been.

Getting up he crossed over what had been the nursery. The crib was still there, covered in dust and cobwebs. He remember that Lily had been killed right in front of it, trying to protect her tiny son. He knelt next to that spot too. Taking in the memories of Lily. Of her bright laughter, of her jovial cries when she found out she was pregnant, everything.

"Well, Lil, your son is really something, he's grown up well, despite the example he got from those relatives of his. You should not have to be dead, Lily. I have reason to believe that if Dumbledore had not set this up you would still be alive." It was then that Remus noticed something odd, something that had obviously been missed 16 years ago. Something that was now barely noticed, due to the dust and grime of the years. There was a stain on the wooden floor, and on the bars of the cradle, streaking downward. And it looked an awful lot like blood. "Blood…..but….how? The Avada Kedavra never causes blood flow from the victim. He then noticed something under the crib and reached under to pull it out. It was a butcher knife covered in the same color stain. "Definitely blood." He now had the feeling that what had happened 16 years ago, was not what everyone had been told had happened. He stood and searched the home for more information. Who would kill Lily in such a manner. Not Voldemort, nope, he ALWAYS used the Avada Kedavra. It was his signature move, he would never resort to muggle methods. But someone had. He went to what was once the Potters' bedroom. He didn't know what he was looking for but he knew he would know it, when he found it. Lupin searched the closets and located a ragged looking book, the pages were yellowed and almost falling out. He gently opened the book, finding it to be a diary, Lily's. He read page after page, until he finally reached the last page. He dropped it, like it was a snake that had been about to bite him. "No, it…..it couldn't be true….James would never….never…."

The next morning, Lupin flooed to Snape's office, which he had resumed residence. He held in his hand the diary and the knife in a plastic bag. Severus was reading a new potions book by his favorite author, when the werewolf stepped in.

"Ahh. Lupin, I was not expecting you." His polite manner was strained due to his long hate against the man and his friends.

Remus checked his own sarcastic greeting and cut straight to the meaning of his visit. "I went to Godric's Hollow last night. I found something odd."

Severus looked at Remus funny. "Odd how?"

Remus showed him the diary and the knife. "I don't think Voldemort killed Lily."

Severus read through the diary, although he didn't seem very surprised. Something in the way he read it said that he'd already known. He took a look at the knife, without removing it from the bag. "You're right, if you're thinking that the Dark Lord would never use such a method of murder. We know for a fact that he used the Avada Kedavra on James…"

"And you know something else don't you? You already knew what had gone on in that book didn't you? You knew…. I can see it in your face." Remus stated simply, not really in an accusing manner but in one that was wanting to NOT believe it.

Snape nodded. "I knew…because the Dark Lord knew…" He explained. "Potter was abusive towards his wife and he beat her often. I also knew that he was involved in trafficking illegal potions and such contraband. Lily probably knew all about it and was afraid to say anything. But she had once dated the Dark Lord and probably trusted him more than any of us."

"James? Trafficking?" Remus repeated, in shock. He realized then that he never really knew his friend as well as he'd thought.

"Not just Potter….but the two in your little group as well. Peter was the first to escape it, it's why he decided to join up with the Dark Lord. Guess he figured that being a Death Eater would be better. Guess they never thought to include you in their little business venture." Severus smirked.

Remus looked down. "I was blinded I suppose. I thought they were, well not perfect, but incapable of this. Especially James….that he would hurt someone he loved so much…impossible…" He looked at the knife. "Do you think…it was…James….who….?" Remus began to weep silently.

Snape nodded. "I know it was." He answered in a way that left no room for argument. "I may not be able to prove it, all the evidence may be circumstantial, but I don't need the evidence. I have the confession of the Dark Lord himself. As I was the only one he sought to tell about that terrible night."

Diary, I can't take it anymore, I just can't. I never should have married James! He's getting worse and worse, and I don't know what else to do. I should never have left Tom. I am such a fool. Why didn't see what I had until it was gone? I have to get out of here, I have to leave James. I don't care if this spell is for my protection. James is just getting more and more violent, I'm afraid he might start hurting Harry too. I should go to Tom, but the prophecy says that Tom will only kill him, even though I don't think he really would. But I couldn't tell Dumbledore that. None of them would understand….I only know…I have to leave.

Remus had read and re-read Lily's last diary entry. Tears poured down his cheeks as he sat in front of Snape's fire. He couldn't help but blame himself. Finding out that his best friends had been involved in a drug ring, and that James had KILLED Lily and not Voldemort, it was too overwhelming to stand.

"Well, now the shoe's on the other foot, isn't it, Lupin. You thought your friends were so special, that they were only teenagers prone to mistakes. Now you know that James treated no one any better than he treated me." Snape sneered, even though he felt somewhat bad for Lupin's pain.

Lupin only glared half-heartedly. Snape was right after all. James nor Sirius had been especially nice to anyone but one another. They even had delighted in laughing at Peter behind his back, despite Lupin's attempts to defend their chubby friend. "But what confusesme…is that Tom LET everyone believe that HE had killed Lily. He could have easily let them find the knife covered in blood, they would have been able to figure it out. I would have. Sirius would have."

Severus only shrugged. "Maybe he knew that no one would believe it. Probably thought there was no point. The word of a werewolf is no proof."

"I need to tell Harry…." Remus stated. "He deserves to know…"

Snape nodded. "I will send the Dark Lord your request to do so."

A little while later, they were all in the study, for the lessons that Tom had said they would have, before the others started theirs.

"Mr. Weasley, would you mind not waving your wand like a bat in flight? You're going to hurt someone." Tom instructed Ron. "The spell is not that difficult. Sento Salvera!"

They were currently practicing a soul protection spell, to defend against spells like Dumbledore's Mind Meld. Hermione, of course, mastered the spell within five minutes of learning it. She was currently outlined by a gold light and no one, not even Tom, an accomplished legilemens, couldn't get into her private thoughts which therefore made it impossible to control her mind.

Harry was in the processing of making his third attempt when the fire turned green in the study, and Severus Snape stepped through followed by Professor Lupin.

Tom looked up. "Severus! What business have you here this evening, and what purpose did you have for bringing him?" He asked gesturing at Lupin.

Severus bowed. "Forgive me, my lord, he insisted I bring him. He says he must speak with Mr. Potter." He looked at his master in the eyes now. "He knows!" Severus emphasized.

Tom understood immediately. "Get him out of here! I forbid you to tell Harry!" He shouted standing on his feet instantly.

Remus held in his hand, the diary. "I have to tell him, it's his right to know, he deserves to know the truth!"

"Why? Because you feel guilty for not knowing sooner? Think you could have done something?" Tom asked sarcastically. "It may be his right to know, but that doesn't mean it won't destroy him! If you tell him, I swear, I'll curse you three ways from Sunday!" Voldemort aimed his wand at Lupin.

Lupin looked at Harry. "He deserves to know! And yes, maybe I could have."

Harry looked at Lupin. "Tell me what? What do I deserve to know?" He was confused.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at Lupin and snatched the diary from him then grabbed him by the arm and dragged him from the room. He led the werewolf to the dining room where he ordered all the maids to clear out. After locking the doors, he motioned for Lupin to sit.

"Now, I would like to make this very clear. I kept it from him, and the rest of the wizarding world for a reason!" Tom exclaimed brusquely. "Reason one, it can't be changed. Two, no one would have believed it anyway, Dumbledore's got them under his thumb. And three, it would destroy him!"

Lupin looked away. "You underestimate his strength. He can handle it!"

"Really? How well did you HANDLE it! And remember, that we're talking about the man's SON! No boy should remember his father as a killer! No matter what the circumstances!"

Lupin didn't look up at the man. The man he still hated, for killing his best friend. But it was getting harder to hate him, knowing that the wizard honestly cared about Harry. Even though he found THAT hard to believe. After all the man had been trying for literally years to kill the boy.

"Harry's a little stronger than me in these situations. He's had so many secrets kept from him, and it's only served to hurt him worse. He deserves to know this, and I'd rather not have him find out on his own, knowing that WE knew, and COULD have told him ourselves." Remus told the dark lord. "It may hurt him, but the truth often does. But he doesn't just deserve to know, he NEEDS to know. Before Dumbledore, who probably knew it all along, can use it against him." Remus didn't really think the man would go that far, but he knew that it was the right button to push.

It was Tom's turn to be silent and thoughtful. He sighed heavily. He was beginning to realize that maybe the werewolf was right. He hated it. But, what would Harry do if he found out on his own? Harry would trust him EVEN less. He put a hand on to his forehead for a few moments, feeling the beginning of a migraine. He sighed once more and exited the room. A few minutes later, he returned, followed by a confused Harry.

"Harry, sit down, there's something you need to know, now, before you find out on your own later." Tom began.

Harry looked curious. "What is it?"

Tom opened his mouth to begin but found he couldn't do it. He couldn't stand to be to crush the boy ideals about his father. Besides the boy would never believe him. "Well, Lupin, you wanted to tell him. Go right ahead."

Lupin swallowed hard. "Gee thanks. Harry, I was at what was your parents' home yesterday. I found something quite disturbing." He paused. "I found blood stains where your mother's body was found, as well as spattered blood stains on the bars of your crib. And under the crib was a butcher knife covered in blood stains as well. Snape confirmed that it was your mother's blood. She did not die from the Avada Kedavra Curse."

Harry was so confused and looked at Voldemort. "But then….how? Why'd you make her suffer, I thought you LIKED her. But you…."

Lupin stopped Harry from going on. "No, Harry, he didn't kill Lily."

The boy wizard kept his eyes on Tom, who looked down at him. "Then….who did?" He asked. But he didn't think he really wanted to know.

Tom sighed. "Your father did, Harry. James Potter killed your mother."

Harry's stunned stillness was a testament of how shaken he was to first hear this turn of events. "No…no, it's not true." He insisted, "My father was a good man. He would never….he's never…" He forced out, gnashing his teeth. "Never…."

Remus gave Harry the memoir. "Your father was abusive, Harry, and into so many things we never would have imagined. And it appears that Sirius was too."

"It's why Wormtail, Peter Pettigrew, came running to me, in the first place," Tom explained, "I promised him protection from James and Dumbledore."

"No." Harry exclaimed, resolutely. "No, I won't believe it this time. It's not true. IT'S NOT!" He threw the innocent-looking book to the floor and darted from the dining room and out the front door.

Remus began to go after Harry, but Tom stopped him. "There is no need to race after him. He will be fine. He just needs some time alone right now."

Lupin nodded. "That poor boy, he's been through so much."

Ron and Hermione entered the dining room. They looked apprehensive. "Um, Remus," Ron began. "Is Harry okay? We saw him run outside."

"He's fine, children." Tom stated minimally before Lupin could respond. "Now, it is time for you two to go to bed. It's late, and you know how early we get up around here."

Ron grumbled, a steady stream of muttered curses. He hated getting up in the early hours of the morning. And it was summer, for crying out loud. Hermione, on the other hand, didn't mind so much. ("Early to bed, early to rise," She liked to quote.) And so the two of the went off to their bedrooms, leaving Snape, Tom and Remus to discuss the night's events.

"I knew this would be his reaction," Tom said sardonically. "This is but the first stage of a grief that he had never been allowed to feel. Now that all the puzzle pieces of his parents' deaths have been assembled, he can finally step back, and analyze the picture that those pieces make. How he responds to it though, later, is what worries me."

Moments into their discussion a wounded shout rang through out the ranch home. It was Harry's voice, screaming in the night. Tom and the other two hurried outside. Seth and the other ranch hands were at the edge of a corral. Seth hurried over.

"Tommy, one of the bulls has gone crazy! He's attackin' Harry! Come quick!" McGrange shouted in earnest.

Tom ran, the fastest of the three, over to the corral. He saw a broken, bloodied Harry, being pounded into the ground by a enraged steer. He climbed into the fence and grabbed the bull by the horns, pulling him away from the boy, murmuring gentle words of comfort to the animal, which was how he tamed all of his beasts. Slowly, the bull calmed down and stopped the barrage of attacks. Tom could sense an influence that none of the rest did. "Severus, get Harry out of here, now!" He called to the professor. The ranch hands cleared the way, so that Snape could do as he was told. "Take him to my car. We have to get him to a hospital!" Tom exclaimed, now leaving the bull to the hands now that the danger was stopped. "McGrange, you and my friend Professor Lupin, get Ron and Hermione up, and bring them in the other car." Riddle completed his orders and he and Snape dashed to the red Ford Escort that Tom owned.

"Since when do you know how to drive a Muggle car?" Severus asked the Dark Lord.

"Since now, apparently." Tom put the car into gear and motored to the Dallas General Hospital ER.

The group was forced to wait for hours as doctors and nurses fought to save the young wizard's life. Of course, they couldn't take him to St. Mungo's for obvious reasons. However the waiting would have been much preferable to what they found out when the doctor came to talk to them.

"Which one is the boy's guardian?" The doctor asked of the three men standing before him, each with looks of concern etched on their faces.

Tom stepped forward. "That would be me."

"Ahh yes, are you the boy's biological father?"

Tom shook his head. "No sir, I merely knew his mother."

The doctor gave a crisp nod. "Yes, well, you should know that the boy's condition is very critical. We nearly lost him several times on the table. He has a very slim chance of survival." Hermione burst into sobs, her grip on Ron's hand becoming deathly tight. The doctor continued. "He needs blood, and lots of it. The problem is, he has a very rare blood type, which is further complicated by odd DNA strands in his genes. And if we don't find a proper match soon, he will die."

Last time:

"He needs blood, and lots of it. The problem is, he has a very rare blood type, which is further complicated by odd DNA strands in his genes. And if we don't find a proper match soon, he will die."

Presently:

Hermione burst into a fresh flood of tears as the doctor's words sunk into all present.

"So, all you need to do is find a proper donor, is that right?" Tom asked, hoping against hope that the muggle doctors could do something. He couldn't afford to take the boy to St. Mungo's or any other wizard hospital. They would give the boy back to Dumbledore.

The doctor sighed. "The only way that he has a chance is if he can get a blood transfusion. We're looking through our records now of possible donors. But with his blood type and the odd DNA, it's unlikely that we'll find a match that his body won't reject. His best bet is if we can get a relative in here, preferably a parent or a sibling."

Severus frowned. "Surely with the medical advances here, in America, you can find some way to find a match without having to worry about the DNA." He always thought that muggles were a little too smug about their medical abilities nowadays. "It shouldn't be that difficult." Of course, he also knew he had no room to talk in this situation. He could do just as much as they could.

Tom walked away, sitting in a chair. He didn't know what to do. Everything was falling apart. And he was afraid. He hadn't put a tracker spell on Potter, sixteen years ago, hadn't kept an eye on him from afar, just to have him die at the hands of his former professor and headmaster. For the sake of the boy and the rest of the wizarding world, he had remained silent whenever strange deaths occurred and he was blamed, he and his pureblood followers. Even though, he had HOPED that someone intelligent would be able to figure out that there's something a little too coincidental about Dumbledore being the first to each attack site, and he (Voldemort) being nowhere in sight. He didn't fight it though, he knew that if anyone figured out Dumbledore's true scheme there would on be MORE deaths and that if only Dumbledore's desire to be adored was satisfied than the attacks would diminish. But now….

"I'm a damned fool." Tom stated, in his chair.

Severus came and sat, followed by Lupin and the teenagers. "My lord?" He asked.

"I thought I could stop Dumbledore by allowing people to think it was I responsible for his actions, by allowing the people to love him as their protector. But I was a fool. I forgot that people with power only crave more. He sought to eventually destroy me, because he was frightened that I would reveal his secrets. Which is something I should have already done."

The doctor came over again. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, but, I need to ask if any of you are willing to have your blood tested? We absolutely must find a match for that boy if he is to live. And if you know of any relatives, you must contact them immediately."

"I assure you Doctor, we are all more than willing to have the tests done, but I'm afraid contacting relatives is out of the question. Not only do his only living relatives live in England, they would never come." Snape stated tersely.

The doctor nodded. "Well then, Mr. Riddle, you should come first. You are the boy's guardian after all, it is your duty to protect him."

One by one each, except for Hermione and Ron who were underage and not permitted to donate blood, allowed their blood to be tested, only to be sent back out to the lobby for another hour.

"What's taking them so long with the samples?" Ron asked, he had a short fuse. His best friend was possibly dying, he'd had NO sleep that night, he was hungry, and on top of that, he was confused. Why would the bull attack without provocation? From what he'd seen of the animals on the ranch, they were ALL gentle, probably due to discreet spells that Tom used.

Hermione shook with worry. "It takes a good deal of time to analyze a blood sample, Ron. They'll be out soon, I'm sure of it."

As if on cue the doctor came out, stomping over to them. No, over to Tom, who immediately stood to his feet. "How dare you mess with my patient's life like this? I ought to have you arrested for child endangerment!" The doctor practically shouted.

Tom gave the doctor a confused look. "What are you talking about? Did you find a match for Harry?"

"Yes, I found a match, I found more than that! That boy could have been in a recovery room by now if you had merely confessed that YOU were his father!"

Tom stared in shock at the doctor. "That….that's impossible."

The doctor grabbed the man's arm roughly. "Look, the tests DON'T lie, you can contest them in court later if you wish. Right now, your priority is that child, lying in the ICU." He pulled the man along.

Tom was pulled into the room where the doctors and nurses hooked him up to a series of tubes and syringes. Eventually, he was practically attached to Harry, blood being taken from his body, and put into the young boy wizard's. He suddenly understood that maybe the prophecy meant nothing about DEATH. This boy, he did have the power to vanquish the dark lord, to vanquish the myth that he himself, was the Dark Lord. And seeing the boy, lying in such a prone position, looking as helpless as can be, he also understood that it was true, neither could live unless the other survived. For had Dumbledore succeeded in killing him, he would never have been able to save Harry from the headmaster's cruelty, nor would he be able to give this much needed lifeblood. And he HAD marked Harry as his equal, not with the scar although he had placed it there to keep an eye on Harry, but with his own genetics. He remembered the last night he had spent with Lily before she had revealed she was pregnant. But all of them, had thought the baby was James'. Now he knew that what they all had thought, was a lie. What was he going to do? How would Harry react? Did Dumbledore know? Could he use this against them? Would he?

Meanwhile, Harry, in his world of dreams, was hovering between life and death. He was in the same place where Dumbledore had tried to use his mom against him. But this time, he was alone. In his hand, was his mother's diary. He remembered distinctly leaving it in the dining room in haste to get out, but yet, he had it. What had happened, he didn't remember. He sat on the ground and opened the book. Maybe…. now was a good time to read it….he didn't appear to have anything else to do. He opened the book to page one. As he read he began having "flashbacks".

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN DINNER ISN'T READY!"

"I'm sorry….I'm sorry, I was just so busy….with the baby!"

"Woman! You are my WIFE! It is your DUTY to see to it, that dinner is on the table, BY TIME I get home!" A slapping sound was heard.

Harry put his hands on his head. "No…no…no…it's not true it's not."

Flashback sequence:

Date: October 31, 1981

Lily was singing Baby Harry, a pudgy little one year old, a lullaby to keep him quiet while she packed her and her son's things. Baby Harry watched. Why was Mommy taking everything and putting it into bags? Was this a new game? Was she going to hide the bags and let Daddy find them? Would Daddy play? He squealed when his mother picked him up out of his crib.

"Oh, my little son, I made a horrible mistake marrying your father. But….we're getting out of here. I know what Dumbledore says, but right now, I don't know if Dumbledore knows as much as he thinks he knows." She said to Baby Harry. "After all, I know Tom, he won't try to kill you. That's complete and utter hogwash. So we're going to go to him. Tom will help us, he'll protect us. You'll like him, Harry, really, you will."

"He'll like who?" came a voice from the door.

Lily turned quickly. "Um….my cousin, Edgar, he hasn't gotten to see Harry yet, and he's in London this weekend. We're going to go see him." She made up quickly, but she could see that James didn't buy it. And what was worse, he was stoned.

James came over and grabbed her arm. "You lying bitch!"

Lily wrenched out of James' grasp and put Harry back in his crib. "James, stop! I'm sick of this!" She forced out. "I'm tired of being your punching bag. I'm leaving you, for good." She turned from her husband. "I hate you, James, I hate you, for what you've put me through since we got married! I should have known, from the way you behaved in school and the way no one EVER really did anything about it, that you'd never change."

James grabbed her and turned her to face him. "You filthy MUDBLOOD!" He began to rain blows down on her. "You're MINE! You belong to ME!"

Baby Harry had no choice but to watch. Why was Daddy hurting Mommy, he wondered? Maybe they were only playing….maybe…but even his tiny baby mind understood that wasn't the case. He began crying. Maybe if he cried, Daddy would stop, maybe Daddy would say he was sorry and play with him. But the angry man just looked at the boy with a fierce expression enough to silence the babe.

"You brat! Shut your fuckin' mouth!" He shouted.

Lily took advantage of James distraction and used her wand to send him from the room. She began to comfort her son with soothing words. "Shhh, it's okay, I'm here." She petted his hair as he sat in his crib. She didn't hear footsteps as James reentered the room. She didn't even know anyone was there until a shadow rose up. She turned.

All Baby Harry could see was a flash of metallic silver, and red stuff splattering.

Harry snapped out of his memories. And he realized, his heart and stomach lurching brokenly, that it was true. His father had killed his mother. And he remembered, being there, watching. He felt his heart begin to break and he began to sob.

"Why, Dad, why? Why didn't you love us!" He cried, finally letting the pain from 16 years of that repressing memory flow.

It was several days before Harry woke in the small recovery room. But when he did, he saw that Tom was there, sleeping in the chair beside him. He wondered how long he had been asleep. He still felt very weak, and knew that he was far from healed. He looked around with his eyes. Attached to him was a long IV, indicating that he was in a muggle hospital. He noticed that almost the whole room was green and attached to him, on the other side was a machine of kind. It seemed to be monitoring how much of a kind of medicine to give him, and when. After a few minutes of being awake, he realized he needed to use the bathroom and attempted to get up. His attempt simply left on the bed, he was too weak to get up, however said attempt also succeeded in waking up the sleeping wizard beside him.

"Good, you're awake." He said simply. "Now, I know you weren't trying to get out of bed."

Harry grinned sheepishly. "I need to use the loo." He said quietly.

After Tom had helped Harry to and from the restroom, he decided, perhaps now would be the best time to tell him what they had found out.

"Harry, do you remember being injured by the bull?" He asked. He always thought it best to start from the beginning. When Harry nodded he continued. "We brought you here, to Dallas General. You were very close to death, and they needed to give you a transfusion. But you have a very rare blood type with complicated DNA. They needed to find as close a match as possible, and had each of us tested. What they found….from their tests on my blood specifically….was very interesting to say the least…" He paused, unsure of how to continue.

"What did they find?" Harry asked curiously.

Tom turned his head. "Harry, you know your mother and I were close, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah….so…"

"After she married your father was when he started beating her, and she came to me one evening. Supposedly it was the first night he had ever laid a finger on her. She came to me nearly every evening that it happened. And it was often. One night, it was just too much for her at once, and well, I attempted to comfort her by holding her close, and one thing led to another…." He didn't finish, he knew Harry understood THAT part. "My boy, I…..am your father…."

Meanwhile…

Dumbledore stroked his phoenix's chest gently. "Well, Fawkes, it appears that young Mr. Potter is much stronger than we give him credit for." He was watching the boy and Riddle through a crystal. "And it appears that he has found out yet another secret that we have striven to hide from him.

Presently…

"MY FATHER!" Harry shouted. "But you only slept together that one night, right?"

Tom nodded. "However, despite what most witches and wizards your age think, one night is all it takes, and contraceptive charms and muggle condoms are only 97 effective."

"My father!" He repeated. "But…..but….but…"

"Glad to see your as articulate as ever, Mr. Potter." came the sultry voice of Severus Snape. He had placed charms on Harry, under the pleas of his worried friends, that would let them know when Harry had awakened. He glided over. "You told him?" He asked the Dark Lord, whose face was mixed with annoyance at being interrupted, and gratitude at having someone to back him up.

"But…..you….tried to kill me….and now….you're my father?"

Tom held up a hand. "I suppose it's time to tell you the FULL truth about what happened that night."

Flashback:

Lord Voldemort, draped in his black robes, blew open the door of Potter Manor as the pained cry of Lily Evans reached his ears. He stepped in hurriedly, moving towards the scream. James Potter now stood at the top of the stairs, blood covering his hands, and a knife in his hands.

"You! Get out of here! I won't let you hurt my son!" James shouted, although clearly intoxicated (as thanks to Dumbledore, no SOBER man would ever speak to him that way).

Voldemort eyed the knife in James' hand. "Your pathetic Dumbledore honestly has you convinced that I would be interested in your rugrat?" He spat. "What have you done to Lady Evans?"

"None of….your business." James shot back, with obvious slurring in his tone.

Voldemort raised his wand. "Answer my question!"

"I only gave the bitch what she deserved!"

Clearly that answer provided more than enough information for the angered wizard. He had already inferred what had happened. "How dare you lay a finger on her! Avada KEDAVRA!" Tom shouted, letting the green light engulf the offending Mr. Potter. Moments later, James lay dead at the top of the stairs. Voldemort levitated the man downstairs and took the knife, never actually touching it. He went up to the nursery, where he saw Lily, bleeding to death on the wood floor. He lost concentration and his spell holding the knife up failed, sending it clattering to the ground. "Lily! Lily, no!" He lifted the dying woman into his arms, and held her. "Lily, no, please, open your eyes…." He pleaded.

Lily Evans opened her eyes weakly upon hearing his voice. "Tom?" He nodded. "Tom, I…..I'm sorry…."

Tom held her close. "No, don't be sorry, you're going to be alright." He examined her, seeing that she had been stabbed in the abdomen, it was a belly wound, one that could leave her laying there for days, dying a painful death. No spell had been formulated to fix such a wound. "Lily…."

She reached up weakly, to touch his cheek. "Can you….watch over Harry….for me?" She asked, to which he nodded.

"Yes, yes, of course." He touched her hand to his lips, kissing it gently, lovingly. But Lily did not hear him, for she had fallen into unconsciousness. Tom knew that she was in pain……but he could do nothing to relieve it, save for one thing. Taking his wand, murmuring his sorrowful apologies, he whispered the killing curse, allowing the spell to end her suffering. He lay her upon the wood floor and stood to look at the young Harry in the crib. "Boy, everyone thinks that I am out to kill you. I would correct them, if only I could without jeopardizing them. I am afraid I cannot take you with me, for that would only bring Dumbledore after the both of us. However, maybe if you, too, grow up to love the old wizard, perhaps he will not harm you. I can only hope that I am right. But….just in case, I will use a spell, and give us a connection. Sadly, I will not be able to help you, not for a long time, but I will feel your pain with you, so that you never have to be alone. I will watch over you, as I promised your mother….I swear it." He used his wand to etch a small scar on the boy's forehead.

End flashback.

It was about a week later. Harry had been released from the hospital only days ago and was very happy to be free from the bed he'd been confined to for the last forty-eight hours. He was currently sitting beside the stream he'd visiting his first day at the ranch.

"Howdy, kid!" came the familiar hiss of Garth, who slithered up to him. "Been wonderin' if you'd come."

Harry smiled his hello to the snake. "Yeah, I've been pretty busy."

Garth nodded in understanding. "Have things been better with ya and the other guy?"

"Yeah, we settled things real well, and I learned that I had been wrong about a lot of things. "

"Well, that happens to the best of us. We can't always be right."

"No, we can't. And it's strange. The guy that I thought was trying to kill me since I was a year old, actually is the one who cares about me the most, and the one person I can truly trust."

Garth smiled. "Just like the most dangerous animal can sometime prove to be the most loyal and gentle, if given a chance.

Harry nodded. "Just goes to show that nothing ever is what it seems to be, and everyone has their own story. And sometimes, in order to make the right decision, you have to hear both. Just because someone says they want only the best for you, doesn't mean they care for you or that they're really trustworthy, and maybe it's the ones who seem so perfect that really can't be trusted. But, you should always give them the benefit of the doubt at least. And….from now on, I'm going to try to be someone who can trust people, despite what others say about them, I'm going judge them on their own merits, after I know them."

"Harry!" came a shout from the distant. He turned and saw Tom riding over on his white Egyptian. "What are you doing here? Come on, everyone's waiting for you, it's not proper for a boy to be late to his own birthday party."

Harry nodded and stood, saying a quick farewell to Garth and hoping on Black. Together he and Tom raced back to the ranch where his friends were waiting for him.

AN: Okay, you're probably wondering why I put the whole thing into one LONG chapter. Well, I decided for that I amgoing to post this story in multiple languages. And will not allow multiple postings of a single story for any reason. This section is the English section, if you couldn't tell.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER