~Surrender~

Rating: M for slash (homoerotic relationship) in later chapters.

Warning: This is a Harry Potter/Voldemort romance set during Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. Read at your own risk.

...

~Chapter 2~

Going to Hogwarts

...

The marble fireplace of Riddle House had stood cold and empty for years. But this unseasonably chilly August afternoon, a fire was blazing in the grate, and the flickering flames cast their soft glow over the delicate friezes of angels carved around the fireplace. A pale young man with dark curls and silver eyes stood in front of the fire, looking remarkably like one of the marble angels himself.

"I need your blood, Draco." Tom Riddle pulled a small dagger from his robes and turned calmly to one of his visitors. The dagger glittered silver in the dancing light from the fireplace.

"What-?" Draco Malfoy's grey eyes widened at the sight of the dagger, and he looked even paler than usual. His glance drifted anxiously to Harry, who was sitting in an armchair by the fire.

Lucius Malfoy, who had been sitting on the silk-upholstered sofa, jumped up. "Please, my lord... Take my blood instead, I beg you!"

Tom sighed deeply. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Lucius! Do you think I imperiused half the Ministry and got you out of Azkaban just so you could witness your son's murder? I'm not going to kill Draco. I merely require some of his blood. I can't use yours for this. Hold still, Draco."

Draco shivered as Tom reached for his arm, but Lucius inclined his head slightly. "In that case, my lord, my son will be honored to give you his blood."

"Of... of course, my lord..." Draco's voice faltered. He held out his arm and squeezed his eyes shut. He bit his lip and moaned a little as Tom made a rapid cut in his arm. Tom caught the blood in a little vial, stoppered it, and regarded the crimson liquid with a look of great satisfaction. "There! That should do it!"

Draco studied the red line on his arm. "That's going to leave a scar."

"Then you should wear it as proudly as a Dark Mark," said Lucius softly. His glance flickered over to Tom. "May I... may I ask what it is that you intend to do with his blood, my lord? Are you going to... to keep my son captive here at the Riddle House, like Potter? Is this some sort of bonding magic?"

Tom's angelic face was marred by a sudden frown. "Oh, don't be absurd, Lucius. Harry is not my prisoner; he is my friend and my guest. Much has changed between Harry and myself lately. He is more precious to me than anything in the world now." He stroked Harry's hair gently.

Draco made a small strangled sound. Lucius grasped at the mantelpiece for support; his mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

"And therefore," continued Tom serenely, "it is vital that Harry is kept safe when he returns to Hogwarts. I will go with him myself, in order to protect him. Since I can't very well enter the castle as myself, I have decided to assume Draco's form for the time being."

Lucius stared at him. "You... You will go to Hogwarts as my son, my lord?"

Tom nodded. "That is correct, Lucius. It is actually rather convenient; I had a small matter I wanted to ask Draco to take care of for me at Hogwarts this year, but now I can attend to it myself. Of course, mere polyjuice potion will not get me past the protective wards that surround the castle, but I have come up with a rather interesting new variation of the potion that involves the use of blood rather than hair, and a few spells in the ancient Sumerian dialect of Emesal. I am fairly certain I will be able to enter Hogwarts in Draco's form without anyone being any wiser."

"You will go to Hogwarts as me, my lord?" whispered Draco.

"Yes, I will. What, you don't think I'd make a good Slytherin, Draco?"

Lucius' lips quivered in a slight smile. "I don't think Slytherin himself would make a better Slytherin, my lord."

Tom put the vial of blood carefully away in the pocket of his robe. "Of course, Draco will have to stay home with you this year, Lucius, and you need to be careful that he is not seen outside Malfoy Manor."

"Certainly, my lord. The boy's mother will no doubt be very pleased to have him home the whole year. But his school work-?" Lucius glanced at Draco.

"His school work?" Tom raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I am sure you are capable of instructing Draco at home, Lucius, if you are concerned about his learning." Tom's silver eyes glittered. "And if you are worried about his grades, I can assure you that my intellectual capacities far exceed those of your son. I think you will find that his grades will be flawless this year. Draco will qualify for any position he wants in the wizarding world after this."

Lucius smiled ever so slightly. "I do not doubt it, my lord."

"But what about my... my friends?" whispered Draco. For some reason, his usually pale cheeks turned red.

Harry burst out laughing. "Your friends? Oh, come on, Malfoy. You know that Crabbe and Goyle are much too dense to see through Tom's disguise."

"Tom-?" Draco stared at Harry for a moment, uncomprehending. Then he glanced at the Dark Lord, and his eyes widened. "Oh..."

"Crabbe and Goyle? Well, if they are anything like their fathers, I wouldn't worry about them," muttered Tom.

"And... and I'm a prefect...," murmured Draco.

Tom lit up. "Oh, excellent! That will make it a great deal easier for me to look after Harry properly."

"Draco's also on the Quidditch team, Tom" said Harry thoughtfully. "He plays Seeker for Slytherin. I suppose you will have to fake an injury of some sort to get out of playing."

Tom was grinning now. "Fake an injury? I will do no such thing, Harry. I'm an excellent Quidditch player! I will have you know that I was Slytherin Seeker myself once."

"You were?" Harry stared at him in disbelief. "Voldemort played Quidditch? When was that? 1925?"

Tom snorted. "For your information, you impertinent child, it was 1942. It's not that long ago."

"Yeah. Right." Harry smiled. "We'd better start practicing this afternoon, Tom - your Quidditch skills may be a little rustier than you think. I think you will find that brooms are a little faster these days than you remember."

"Oh, nonsense, Harry. I am a very fast flier. With or without a broom. You'll see, my dear." Tom turned to Lucius. "You and Narcissa will bring Harry and me to King's Cross Station on the first of September, Lucius. If anyone asks - and I'm sure they will - where the Boy Who Lived has been for the past weeks, you can tell them that he was abused by his Muggle relatives and that you felt compelled to remove him from those surroundings."

"Certainly, my lord." Lucius' dark grey eyes lingered on Harry. After a moment's hesitation, he asked: "May I ask if that is true, my lord?"

"Yes," said Tom shortly. "I'm afraid it is."

"But surely Dumbledore would not have allowed-"

Tom rounded on him in a sudden flash of fury. "Do not mention that name to me again, Lucius, or I shall cut out your tongue."

Lucius nodded silently. He glanced curiously at Harry, and a slight frown passed over his pale sculptured features.

...

"Well? What do you think?" The pale, flaxen-haired boy in the Slytherin robes turned to Harry. "Do I look like Draco Malfoy?"

Harry smiled and shook his head. "No. You look like the Dark Lord in disguise, Tom."

"Really?" Tom peered at himself in the old silver mirror that hung over the fireplace. He brushed a lock of white-gold hair out of his eyes. "No, you are wrong, Harry. I look exactly like Draco Malfoy."

"You have Draco's appearance, but your mannerisms are all wrong. First of all, Draco doesn't have that imperial air about him, as if knows perfectly well that he is the most powerful wizard alive. Try more of a nervous arrogance instead."

"Oh." Tom studied his face in the mirror. "How's this, then?"

"Better." Harry scrutinized the face in the mirror as well. "But you might try sneering a little; Draco sneers quite often."

"Really? I've never seen him sneer."

Harry sighed. "Of course not. I can't imagine that he would sneer much around you. People don't sneer at the Dark Lord."

"Perhaps not." Tom sneered at his reflection. "Is this good?"

Harry laughed. "Perfect. But you will look like Tom Riddle again when we are alone, right?"

"Of course. I can change back any time. We will see each other during the day, if course, and I will come and visit you in Gryffindor Tower at night when everyone is sleeping."

"You can't, Tom. There are passwords-"

Tom sighed. "Oh, please, Harry. I am the Dark Lord. Of course I will be able to get into Gryffindor Tower once I'm inside Hogwarts. Why, I recall a few visits to the Gryffindor dormitory back in my own schooldays..."

"What?" Harry stared at him. "What were you doing there?"

"Oh, nothing terribly important," said Tom airily. He studied his face in the mirror again. "You know, Draco is not a bad-looking boy. I wonder if he has a girlfriend. I should have asked him."

Harry shrugged. "I have no idea. I see him with Pansy Parkinson a lot, but I don't know if they are together or not."

Tom grinned. "Well, I guess we are about to find out. Is Miss Parkinson pretty?"

Harry stared at him, aghast. "Please tell me you wouldn't-"

"Oh, you don't think I should pursue Miss Parkinson?" The smile that danced over the pale face was definitely not Draco's. "Well, then I won't, my dear. What about you, Harry? Do you have a girlfriend?"

Harry pondered this for a moment. "Not really. I was seeing a bit of a Ravenclaw girl named Cho Chang last year, but it didn't work out terribly well."

"Good." Another slight smile brushed over the blond boy's face. "That means you've got more time to spend with me."

"I'll want to spend time with Ron and Hermione as well."

"Well, of course. We can all be friends."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think that's going to work, Tom. Draco and I have always been enemies; it will look terribly strange if we suddenly start being best friends."

"Well, people change, don't they?" Tom studied his face in the mirror again. "Besides, if people start asking too many questions about us spending time together, I can always spread the rumor that we are secret lovers."

"What? Me and Draco?" Harry buried his head in his hands and groaned. "Please, please don't."

"Why not?" Tom smiled at his false reflection in the mirror. "Draco's rather handsome, and you are completely adorable. We'd make a lovely couple."

...

A strange hush fell over Platform 9 3/4 as Harry and Tom stepped through the barrier with Lucius and Narcissa. Students and parents turned and stared, and Harry heard someone whisper: "Oh, Merlin! It's Harry Potter! He's with Draco Malfoy-? He's still alive! But the Daily Prophet said..."

The next moment, someone shrieked, and Hermione and Ron came barreling down the platform, pushing small students unceremoniously aside as they ran towards Harry.

Hermione flung herself around Harry's neck. "Harry! Oh, my God, Harry! You are alive!"

A second pair of arms surrounded Harry, and Ron's familiar voice muttered: "Blimey! It's good to see you, mate!"

The next moment, Ron and Hermione were both shoved aside, and Molly Weasley grasped Harry so tightly that he couldn't breathe. "Harry! Where in Merlin's name have you been? We thought you had been killed by You-Know-Who..." Tears were streaming down her face now.

"You!" Molly suddenly let go of Harry and rounded on Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. "So you are behind this, are you? I should have known! How did you get out of Azkaban anyway, Lucius? What the hell did you do to Harry?" She paused to draw her breath. "Well?"

Lucius and Narcissa took a few rapid steps backwards. "My dear Mrs. Weasley..." Lucius began weakly.

Molly snorted. "Don't you 'Mrs. Weasley' me, Lucius. Did you harm him? I swear, if any harm has come to Harry, I am going to-"

Harry felt Tom's arm on his shoulder. "Is this your friend Ron's mother? I rather like her."

Tom cleared his throat and tossed his now white-blond hair out of his eyes the way Draco often did. "Please, Mrs. Weasley. My parents were compelled to remove Harry from his Muggle relatives' home for his own protection. They were starving and beating him."

Molly's kind brown eyes widened. "Oh..." She studied Harry intently. "Well, you don't look as thin as you usually do at the end of the summer... Somebody must have been feeding you since you went missing." She looked doubtfully at Narcissa Malfoy, as if believing her incapable of such a thing. "But... but you should have written to us instead, Harry. We would have come for you. Dumbledore would have-"

"Dumbledore," said Tom coldly, "has sent Harry back to live with his relatives every summer, Mrs. Weasley."

Molly looked unhappy. "Yes. Yes, I know, but he said it was for Harry's own protection, so You-Know-Who wouldn't get at him."

"Albus Dumbledore," said Narcissa Malfoy stiffly, "allowed a young wizard to be mistreated at the hands of Muggles for years."

Molly swallowed. "I... I suppose Dumbledore must have had his reasons..." She glanced doubtfully at Harry and hugged him again. "I'm just so glad you are all right, Harry." She kissed him on both cheeks. "Now, get on the train, all of you. You don't want to be late."

Harry turned to Tom. To his surprise, the grey eyes of the boy next to him were slightly moist as he gazed at the splendid scarlet steam engine that waited at the platform.

"You coming, Draco?"

Tom blinked rapidly. "Yes. Yes, of course. It's beautiful, isn't it, Harry? The Hogwarts Express? I had forgotten how magnificent it looks..."

"Goodbye then, Draco," said Lucius, a little stiffly. He hesitated, then gave Tom a quick hug. It looked rather awkward, but Harry didn't think anyone noticed.

"Goodbye, Father," said Tom quickly. "Mother..."

Narcissa shuddered ever so slightly and pecked Tom lightly on the cheek. "Goodbye... Draco. Run along and get on the train now."

Harry hurried after Tom, Ron, and Hermione down the platform, ignoring all the curious stares and murmurs. Suddenly, he heard Tom give a little chuckle by his side.

"Well, well, well! If it isn't 1942 all over again!" whispered Tom in Harry's ear. "What is he doing here?"

Harry followed Tom's glance. A portly wizard in plum-colored velvet robes was just stepping onto the train.

"Who's that?" Harry frowned. "I've never seen him before in my life."

"Must be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Ron was looking at the portly wizard as well.

The new teacher turned around briefly and scanned the platform. As his glance fell on Harry, he froze. An expression of absolute delight spread slowly over his plump face.

Harry groaned. "Whoever he is, I think he just recognized me."

"As long as he doesn't recognize me…" breathed Tom in his ear. "We go way back, Horace and I. He's the one who taught me about horcruxes in the first place." There was a sudden mischievous glitter in his grey eyes. "We are going to have some fun at Hogwarts this year, Harry!"

"Merlin's beard! It's Harry Potter!" The portly little man jumped off the train with surprising agility and pounced on Harry, clasping his hand warmly. "I've seen your picture in the papers, of course. My dear boy, we all thought some sort of disaster had befallen you! And yet, here you are – about to step on the Hogwarts Express!"

"Harry's safety was threatened, sir," put in Tom quickly. "He was no longer safe with his Muggle relatives, and my father had to step in and rescue him at the last moment." He lowered his voice to a confidential whisper. "It was all rather hush-hush; not even Dumbledore knows all the details. I really shouldn't be talking about it, sir…" He regarded the plump wizard with a little smile.

"Ah, I see!" The new teacher beamed at Tom now and gave him a conspiratorial wink. "Well, then I won't push you for details, at least not quite yet, my young friend. Mr. Malfoy, is it?"

"Yes, sir. I am Draco Malfoy, sir." Tom smiled pleasantly. "And you must be Horace Slughorn, the talented potions maker. I have heard quite a bit about you from my friend Gwenog, sir."

Professor Slughorn regarded Tom with interest. "Ah, you are a friend of Gwenog Jones', are you, Mr. Malfoy? I was not aware of that. And your father just rescued Harry Potter from danger, you say?" He beamed at Harry. "Now, Harry, my boy, I would be delighted if you and young Mr. Malfoy would care to join me in my compartment for a light luncheon. Just a small select group of students and myself."

Harry's glance flickered to Ron and Hermione. "Thank you, sir, but I was anxious to see my friends."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "Oh, we would have loved to stay with you, Harry, but I'm afraid we can't. The prefects are supposed to ride in a separate compartment, you see, and we have to patrol the corridors."

Slughorn grasped Harry's arm and steered him onto the train. "It's all settled then, Harry. You and Mr. Malfoy will come with me, and you will catch up with your friends later. Oh, you are a prefect too, Mr. Malfoy? Well, I guess it's just you and me, then, Harry. Come along now."

I'll join you as soon as I can, whispered a voice in Harry's head. Harry turned and smiled slightly at Tom.

"Catch you later, all right, Harry?" Hermione touched his arm gently. "We can't wait to hear about what happened to you." She looked rather coldly at Tom. "But then, I suppose Draco will tell us all about it in the prefects' carriage."

Tom smiled serenely at her. "Oh, no doubt. Harry and I have become quite friendly over the past few weeks."

"Have you, now?" Hermione cast him a glance of deep suspicion as they walked down the corridor together.