Well, a very quick chapter 2... I really couldn't wait with writing this. I do hope the chapter doesn't come across as too rushed... I just got into a flow and couldn't really control where the conversation led to...
I hope you enjoy it!

"I will fight!" Ron yelled, waving a thick branch around. "I'll fight like Merlin! Look, behold the power of the ancient staff I carved!"

"Merlin? You?" one of the older Weasleys, either Fred or George, said amused. "And how can it be ancient when you carved it yourself, dimwit…"

"I carved it from a very old tree!" Ron threw in, pouting slightly as his brothers once again didn't take him serious. Harry merely grinned and swopped down on him, ignoring Ron's yelling as he quickly stole the staff.

"Ha! And now I shall wield this ancient power… to avenge my family, I shall strike fear in the heart of the giant monster that calls himself a lord. His poisonous eyes are no match for my fans and claws and with the addition of this staff, I shall be invincible!"

"Harry," he heard a sharp voice say, and he twirled around instantly, a guilty look on his face. "Ah… uncle…" he said, shuffling his feet. "I was… I was just…"

"Defeating the Dark Lord single-handedly?" his uncle dryly asked. "I saw."

"Well no-one else is getting very far!" Harry protested. "Someone has to stand up to him! How come people never see him coming anyways? He rides a massive Basilisk and he's taller than the trees!" His friends started shouting as well, all the juicy rumours they had heard about the evil overlord who ruled their country with an iron fist, a madman beyond control who slaughtered aimlessly to retain his power.

Where do you all get this nonsense from," Remus said, losing his usually calm composure. "Don't tell me you honestly believe those tales!"

"but mundungus…"

"Is a filthy, good-for-nothing thief and professional liar."

"It's not as if I have any other information sources, being stuck in this hell-hole!" Harry shouted, throwing the stick forcefully to the ground. He wished he wasn't here right now, being told off like a small child. He wanted to be with Marvolo, to have a normal, calm conversation about dark creatures or spells, or being taught handy tricks… "And you never tell me anything!" he added.

Remus sighed. "I honestly hadn't believed that… no matter. Kids, gather round, I think it's time to dispel some rumours. Voldemort is not ten foot tall, nor can he kill people by looking at them, nor does he have a Basilisk, the only creature that would possess that trait… We are not fighting a supernatural being here… we are fighting a man. A tyrannous, cruel man, but a man nonetheless, and that might even make him more fearsome. He has, we think, fallen into the hands of the hunger fo power, but he is absolutely brilliant and reasons every step he takes."

Harry frowned. This wasn't at all what he'd heard till now, from anyone… "If he isn't a monster… where do the stories come from?"

"He does look abnormal, it's true… rather than explaining it, I suppose I'd better show a memory. It's vague, as I was battling, but I think I can conjure up an image clear enough to give you some idea… I think you're old enough now to know our… emperor, as he fancies himself." Curious, Harry leaned closer as Remus put his wand against his head and pulled forth a silver strand from his temple, keeping it in his hand. Harry wondered if he wouldn't need a Pensieve for that, but it seemed that wasn't the case, for from his hand an image rose, cloaked in black, a hood over the face that was suddenly pulled back by spidery fingers… Harry frowned, the hands reminding him of something…

And then the breath was forced out of his lungs, his brain standing still for a moment in horror. No… no, that couldn't be… it wasn't true, it wasn't…

But it was true. Regal as ever, the miniature version of Marvolo threw them all a haughty look and spun on his heel before disappearing again. Harry vaguely heard the rest around him chattering excitedly, and Ron pulled at his arm, trying to get him to join the conversation, to gossip about what they had just seen. "Harry… Harry did you see? Merlin, that face! Seems Mundungus wasn't that far off eh? Harry?"

"I… I just remembered I told Luna I'd meet her today… I'm really sorry, would love to stay but I can't keep her waiting…" he'd said, making up an excuse as fast as he could to get away… He practically run to the forest until he couldn't run anymore and broke down… Three years of carefully built-up trust shattered. He'd trusted the man, he'd told him everything, thinking they were the same… both alone, both being forced to hide, both wanting more… But it looked like Marvolo had not told Harry everything in return…

Harry leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes, wondering where that memory had suddenly come from. Nothing had happened to provoke it… Perhaps it was his illness playing up. The familiar, odd combination of exhaustion and restlessness had been plaguing him since yesterday. It had become worse over the years, and he knew that soon, he would be like the older wolves, getting aching joints up to five full days before the moon was full. A sudden, harsh sound echoed through the room and Harry winced at the sound, ducking his head and trying to fold his ears down before remembering he couldn't.

"Wormtail, do make yourself more useful and go stand outside to see if it's raining or not," Marvolo bit. Harry let out a short laugh at that, and the rat scurried away. Harry really didn't like Womtail, who was something in between a house-elf and a follower... He didn't know why, but he had an intense hatred for the pathetic creature, as if the man had done something awful to Harry. In return, the rat avoided him, never meeting his eyes and having a constantly guilty look on his face. He did not know the man's real name however, so he couldn't exactly look up who exactly he was. He thought it strange that Marvolo always kept him around, for he didn't really seem to like Wormtail either.

Marvolo… Harry gazed at the man, who immersed himself in his book once more, his familiar resting at his feet, curled loosely around one of his legs. Harry couldn't believe that he knew him for about six years now already… slightly longer even… he'd just become sixteen a few months ago. Six years of escaping to here every month, and after a year or so even when he just felt lonely and wanted someone who actually listened to him. Such a long time…

He thought back at the time he'd found out who exactly Marvolo was again. Even know, Harry thought it anticlimactic that he'd found out via a very simple explanation. He'd at least expected to find out after having been allowed to join the battles of the Order against the Dark Lord. To find out personally, to see his stranger standing on the battlefield, challenging the Order and laughing as they fell while Harry turned and fled. But no… all it had taken was some simple childish bragging that had spurred a discussion about how the Dark Lord looked exactly and the extent of his powers, during which his Uncle had finally snapped and dispelled all their childish illusions of a ten-foot monster with poisonous eyes.

He hadn't visited for two full cycles before he couldn't stand it anymore, the loneliness. He'd been surprised when he did not succeed in seeing Marvolo in another light. He'd expected something to have changed, to suddenly see a glimpse of evil he'd failed to notice before, but he could not find it no matter how hard he searched for it. They'd known each other for too long.

He wondered if the man knew that Harry was fully aware of who he was… he'd never shown a sign of that he did but that didn't say much. Harry too preferred to pretend he didn't know, to forget who exactly it was who allowed him in his home every month for unknown reasons. He'd long thrown the explanation he'd so gullibly accepted when he first came here aside. Special… he was strong, but so were many other wizards and witches. No, for the Dark Lord himself to gain an interest in someone there had to be more to it than mere power.

So, the question was… What did the man want from him? It was clear to him now why Marvolo had known who he was when he got here. After all, the Dark Lord had killed his parents and nearly killed him but had instead given him a scar… Was it tied to that, perhaps?

Like always when these questions entered his mind, Harry received no answer, as none came forth from his own mind and no-one else was there either, except for the one he didn't dare ask. He stared at the figure on the couch in front of the fire, watching as long fingers carefully turned a page, Marvolo's back hunched a bit like it always did when he was completely lost in the pages of an interesting book. Harry smiled slightly. None of the stories told this side of the evil tyrant… the side of him that enjoyed his tea with honey and no milk, and could get all worked up over small things like spelling mistakes in books, and could cook very well even though it was usually left to the house-elves… Common, everyday things that no-one but Harry would be likely to see or know.

"Marvolo?" he heard himself ask, his mouth quicker than his brain, a desperate tone to it. The man hummed, and Harry's stomach squeezed together. He shouldn't… he shouldn't ask… It would ruin everything… What if man grew enraged? What if he'd laugh and tell him their friendship was nothing to him? He couldn't…

"What is it?" Irritated now, irritated at his silence. A few slow seconds ticked by, in which Harry struggled with himself.

"Why…" he finally said, hoarsely, wondering why he just had to be so stupid and curious. He would probably have been be sorted into Gryffindor if he had had the chance to go to Hogwarts. "Why do you welcome me here while you tried to kill me when I was a baby? Why didn't you off me when I appeared in your garden six years ago?"

With trembling hands, he waited for the answer, averting his gaze because he didn't want to see the reaction if it were bad, didn't want to see anger or disappointment rise in those eyes. "Well," Marvolo finally whispered. "I suppose it was inevitable that you'd find out. How long have you known, Harry?"

"Three years," he muttered, suddenly very interested in the painting of Morgana that hung above the fireplace, who giving him a sneer and flicked her hair over her shoulder.

"The time you didn't return for a few months? I admit I suspected you knew back then… but you came back… Have you spied on me for your friends?" Harry looked back, his eyes shining with fury.

"You'd think so lowly of me that I would betray you? You, who protected me and gave me a place to escape to other than the horrid cages? Because that's what it is, the fancy reservation… a cage, nothing more. What is the real reason that you invited me to stay here every month? It certainly isn't because you disagree with the system… a system you created. It's laughable... you gave me an escape from rules you made… you would have helped me infinitely more by making the living conditions in the cages decent. All it would have taken was a few words from you." He was practically yelling now, throwing all the hurts, anger and confusion of years on the man.

"Why now? Why confront me now, after all those years?" Marvolo asked, his expression not betraying any emotions.

"I don't know!" Harry exclaimed. "I don't know why now, I just… I couldn't stand not knowing anymore. When I first found out I never wanted to see you again… but I couldn't stay away and yet was too afraid that I'd be thrown out or even killed if I let you know that I knew… And that continued over the years… but I can't just ignore it forever. You're the Dark Lord, the all-feared ruler of this country, the self-proclaimed emperor of magic. Do you know how long it took me to fully comprehend who you were? You've never been anything but kind to me… in my face, that is, but your laws and words to others are ruthless and made me suffer a great deal. How could you face me time and time again, knowing that?"

"Harry, werewolf prejudice is not something that happened because of me. It existed centuries before I was even born and I improved the living conditions for werewolves by a great deal when I created the reservations. Before, every month werewolves were killed, by Muggles and wizards alike when they caught them roaming forests or attacking farms. It's necessary for everyone's protection." Harry didn't buy it, though the man obviously seemed to think he was completely justified.

"Have you ever been in a cage? Truly looked at how we lived? Werewolves still die there because they 'reservations' are cramped and different packs are thrown together. It's as if you'd put two rabid dogs who've been trained to fight till the death together. Every month that goes by without someone killed off is a lucky one. They're too small, too filthy, with not enough food to sustain everyone during those days, and only the rich can afford wolfsbane… which is hardly anyone because we can't get work. Only those with rich families who haven't abandoned them when they were turned have the mercy of being slightly sane."

"It's only a few days a year," Marvolo said, clearly irritated now, waving his hand.

Harry froze, hardly able to believe that the man he'd considered a friend could just shove it aside as if it was no big deal. "A few days?" he whispered. "Five days a month in those horrid conditions, five days out of thirty. Sixty days a year Marvolo… Those who don't die young spend years of their lives in there, and I'm not even talking about the rest of the months, living as a second-class citizen because we're outcasts." His voice was trembling now. "Do you think it's not a big deal to be a werewolf? That it's a mere inconvenience? Why do you think I clung to you, you who granted me a semblance of mercy from that existence, who made me feel like an actual person and didn't remind me every few minutes of that I wasn't normal…" He pressed his face in his hands and curled up on his chair. "Even after finding out who you were, I didn't want to lose that," he whispered, quiet sobs wracking his body.

He head the rustling of fabric as Marvolo finally approached him, and felt two cool hands close themselves around his wrists and pull his hands away to reveal his teary face. "Harry…" the man began. "To make changes like that I need support… You may think that I can do what I want and create rules left and right but that isn't how politics work. I need support and let's be honest, no-one cares about werewolves. My own followers would think me senile if I started preaching to give you all an easy life."

"I'm not talking about easy… I'm talking about humane. And why did you grant me an escape from it? Don't you dare tell me I'm special, because I'm not, at least not for the reasons you gave me before."

"You are special, Harry, but granted, not for the reasons I told you. I can't tell you why, I would be risking too much. But you are mine in many ways and in this way I could ensure you were safe. As for your first sentence… many don't even think you deserve being treated humanely, as they don't see you as human. All werewolf-campaigns failed in the past, with the leaders ending up ridiculed. I can't risk my position for that."

"Your position," Harry said surly. "Your position is more important than the fact that hundreds of people are being treated like lesser beings, discriminated, trampled and poor?" He wondered what Marvolo had meant with his first sentence, and opened his mouth once again to ask about it before it was left forgotten on the tip of his tongue as the man answered his question.

"If you want an honest answer, then that answer shall be yes. Yes, it is to me. I don't care about people I don't know, people I've never seen. I created an effective solution to the main problem and are not willing to burn my hands by trying to stick up for a minority who would rather overthrow my government than follow me, and in the process estrange my followers."

"So it comes down to that you're not willing to make a change because it doesn't concern you?" Harry icily said.

"That's stating it a tad crudely, but yes."

"Then I'll make it concern you." The teen promised, and before Marvolo could stop him he'd sprung up and ran out of the study, rage boiling in his veins, the wolf in him trying to fight its way to the surface, for once in complete agreement with him. But not yet… the moon wasn't full yet, and the wolf would have to bide its time for a couple more days…

That could have gone better… Voldemort gritted his teeth, annoyed to no end about Harry's behaviour. He had not expected the usually so quiet boy to explode in a fire of rage and passion. He pressed his fingers to his temples and massaged them to clear his head. Really, what had the child expected? That he would suddenly jump up and start fighting for the rights of dangerous creatures?

He wondered briefly what Harry had meant with his last line, but dismissed it as an empty threat. The boy couldn't actually do anything. The only thing he could think of was that Harry would go to his uncle and attempt to bring the werewolf pack to his grounds, but he wasn't stupid and had charmed the portkey so that it could carry only one person. Of course, Harry didn't know that, but still… And Furthermore, he thought it unlikely that Harry would dare to confess that he'd snuck away from the reservation every month, to him of all people, while knowing who he was.

And then there was that small hope that Harry had meant it when he said he would never betray him…

What would he do with the boy… He honestly was in two minds about it, and it would depend on if Harry would come back with his tail in between his legs or continue to be stubborn. He needed to watch his Horcrux closely, now more than ever as he'd discovered that the closer he grew to Harry, the more he was able to feel the second thrum of power, his own power, beneath the child's. He had trained Harry magically, a privilege that wasn't granted to any other werewolf as they were denied education, and he was afraid that one day soon, Harry would find and access his second reservoir of magic, separated by only a thin barrier now.

If Harry came back, he'd try to talk some sense into the boy… And if not… he'd have to search him out and take more drastic measures to keep him close.

Well, Harry is definitely up to something... any guesses? ;P
chapter three will hopefully be out soon!

xx elfin