I forgot the disclaimer last chapter, so here it is, and it will be the only one you'll get.

Discaimer: the things you recognize belong to J.K. Rowlings. okay, I also stole some of the names (not Melantha, though smiles proudly) from books like Anne Bishop's Black Jewels Trilogy.

Chapter Two

Harry apparated into the kitchen in Number 12 Grimmauld Place to find the Order crowded around the table, talking. Some were excitedly talking about the battle while others, like the Weasleys, were mourning the deaths. Harry looked around the room morosely, and then he turned to leave. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts.

Harry walked past the portrait of Mrs. Black, who was mercifully quiet for once. When he got to his room, the one he shared with Ron, Harry sat down on his bed and stared at the blank wall. Lucivar and Ginny's death nagged him at the back of his mind, wanting to given attention, but the 'fight' with Voldemort took precedence. Tonight had made him realize something that he had tried so hard to block out since he learned the prophecy. He had to kill Tom. Well, if he wanted to survive, that is. And, as much as loved the Dark Lord, Harry wasn't going to throw his own life away and condemning the Wizarding World just to save his love. If only Voldemort would switch sides…but, no, that would never happen. Tom, like Harry, believed in his ideals more than love. They were both willing to throw away their own happiness if it would win them the war.

The door opened to reveal Ron and Neville. They both looked tired and sad. Ron quickly rushed into his bed, while Neville stared at Harry expectantly. Harry looked around and saw Neville's trunk. Comprehension dawned on Harry.

"Oh. This is your room now?"

"Um, yeah. They gave it to me while you were, um…"

"…being entertained by Voldemort?"

Neville twitched at the name while Harry internally laughed at what he was implying. Neville so didn't get that.

"Right. So, do you mind if I, um…"

"…find another place to sleep? Well I'm sure I could find someplace."

Harry wandered out of the room, wondering if it would be alright to sleep at Voldemort's place after the battle, but then realized it probably would cause more problems. Grimmauld Place wasn't that big and Harry knew all the rooms (and couches) would be full because the majority of the Order was too tired to return to their homes tonight. That left one option: sleeping at a friend's house. Going through a list of names, a realized Melantha would be his best bet. After writing a note to the Order informing them he was sleeping over a friend's (conveniently not listed) house and would be back sometime tomorrow so they shouldn't worry, Harry apparated to Embry Mansion, home of the prominent pureblooded (except the small bit of dark elf, but the term 'pureblood' refers to a person's lineage that is purely wizard for ten generations, so some families have creature blood in them) Embry Family.

Melantha Embry, her younger brother Daemon, and her parents were sitting in the living room discussing the recent battle ("It's that bloody Order, I swear! If it weren't for those pompous muggle-lovers, we would've taken the Ministry years ago!") when one of their house elves, Jack, informed them of a visitor at the door.

"Who is it and what do they want?" Melantha's father, Gareth, asked somewhat irritably.

"Harry Potter, sir."

Sigh. "Let him in."

Jack returned a couple minutes later with a tired-looking Harry Potter in tow. Gareth looked him over, eyes resting on the overnight bag Harry was carrying.

"What do you want?"

"A room, sir. The Order's Headquarters is full and I'd rather not stay with the Dark Lord tonight. We need some…time apart. So, may I stay?"

"I guess. Boy-who-lived or not, you're still the master's lover and one of Melantha's closest friends. I have told you once, I've told you a million times. I will help you with anything except the war. Well, if you stay on the 'Light' side, that is," Gareth said with a grin, which Harry instantly returned.

"Thank-you, sir. Melantha, why don't we go upstairs so I can have my wicked way with you."

The whole family laughed, because it was common knowledge (to the Death Eaters) that Harry was as straight as a corkscrew and would never even dream of doing that with a female. Harry excitedly grabbed Melantha's hand and rushed upstairs, knowing that they would talk all night until they passed out from exhaustion. Merlin, Harry hoped the war wouldn't destroy this friendship like it was his and Tom's relationship.

When Sylvia Snape reviewed and told me that Voldemort probably wouldn't own Slytherin Manor, I immediately came up with the idea of how he got it. I hope this short story is good enough to explain it, Sylvia Snape.

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Voldemort practically pulled Harry up the steps of the apartment building in is eagerness.

"Floor thirteen, room 666. There it is!" said Voldemort excitedly, pointing to a green door with the words 'This is the Death Eater's Headquarters' written in silver paint.

"I'm not complaining, but why do you Death Eaters like to make things blatantly obvious?" Harry asked.

"It's fun. Besides, we like to laugh at our enemies who think it's a trap and it's a big help to some of our, um, less talented recruits," Voldemort replied while pushing open the apartment door, "This is it, Harry, Slytherin Manor!"

Harry couldn't help but laughing, "Slytherin Manor!? It's nothing but a muggle apartment with tons of rooms magically fitted inside! Besides, we're in the middle of the United States. This continent wasn't even discovered in Slytherin's time, let alone Slytherin putting down roots here.

Voldemort pouted.

"But I've always wanted to have a Slytherin Manor!"

The look on Voldemort's face was priceless and Harry couldn't help but laughing. Well, not after taking a picture with his Polaroid first, of course.

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thanks for all the reviews. please review again!!