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Even after being healed, Marvolo remained unconscious for a few hours. Harry, with the use of a spell, managed to get him onto the couch and, making sure he was laying comfortably first, used that time to clean up the mess that had been made thanks to them.

He was finally starting to calm down, and thanks to that, his brain was beginning to process what had happened at last.

It had been a trap, he realized. A trap for them, set up by Dumbledore. But why? Why had he done that? He had seemed pleased to have peace between them. He had been eager to negotiate. He had even seemed happy that Harry was happy.

But it was Harry he had tried to attack first, not the Dark Lord. Had he really tried to kill him, or had he known he would be protected? Really, it didn't matter either way! It was a horrible, atrocious thing to do-at a peace negotiation of all places!

So why had he done it? And where had he gone? He had used Fawkes to escape, but where was he now? What was he thinking? What was he planning? Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know.


Marvolo woke seven hours later. He was tired, sore, hungry, and utterly furious. And then he saw Harry, fast asleep in a rather awkward position on the floor, his head resting on the couch by the man's thigh.

As soon as he saw him, Marvolo began to relax. Harry was safe. That was good. What had happened on the other hand, well, that was anything but good.

He knew he had been right in being suspicious. He had never trusted Dumbledore before, and hadn't particularly been prepared in doing so now, but he had gone along with it all because it was what Harry had so desperately wanted. And Marvolo wanted Harry to be happy, even though he didn't quite understand all of his own feelings on the matter.

Seeing Moody and Shacklebolt there should have been warning enough, but he had allowed himself to be assuaged by Harry. But things had still gone wrong, and he was cursing himself for lowering his guard too much.

He sighed heavily, then winced and touched his chest, looking down. His wounds had been healed, by Harry no doubt. There wasn't even a single scar to be seen on his skin, but the area was still a little painful, particularly if he breathed very deeply.

He got off the couch carefully, before picking Harry up and setting him down on the couch instead, wincing slightly as the movements pulled at his chest. But once Harry was laying more comfortably, he left him sleeping, instead turning his attention to their surroundings.

It looked to be a house. It didn't seem particularly large, with there being only a single bedroom and bathroom, along with a small kitchen and sitting room. He couldn't tell whose house it was, because there didn't seem to be very many personal touches, but he thought he could safely assume a single man lived here.

He wanted to leave. Immediately.

Making his way back to Harry, he woke him up, silencing him before he could voice his concern or relief. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear any of it-he just wanted to leave this house as soon as they possibly could.

Rougher than he probably needed to, he grabbed hold of Harry and disapparated out of the house.

He did so just in time. Though Marvolo and Harry didn't realize it, mere seconds after they had vanished, the door to the house was all but blasted open, Order members rushing in, despite Kingsley's calm reassurances that they would find nothing at his house...


Harry had barely caught his breath when he had to twist around to catch Marvolo, who was sliding to his knees, clutching his chest. "Marvolo!? Dammit, you shouldn't be doing something like that! I could have brought us here myself!" Worried and angry at once, Harry tried to move Marvolo's hands so he could get a look at his chest.

"It's fine. I am fine. The pain is not so great."

Harry very nearly rolled his eyes. "Yeah, the pain isn't so bad-just enough to send you to your knees, is all."

"Harry-"

"Stay still." Harry ran the diagnostic charm over him again, but it didn't tell him much of anything. That was actually good though. It probably just meant it was a lingering ache worsened by Marvolo straining himself too much. "You need rest."

"I have slept enough," said Marvolo, pushing himself to his feet.

"Mar-"

"I must settle this, Harry. Dumbledore and those damned Aurors of his. I-" he broke off, unable to mask a pained wince.

Fighting not to yell, Harry merely shook his head, placing his own hands on Marvolo's chest as he looked up at him. "Moody's already dead, and Kingsley's on our side. He's the one to helped us get away-that was his house we were in, and it was his potions and salves I used to heal you. He thinks what we're doing is right, and I think he might even help us. As for Dumbledore... You can't settle things with him if you can barely stand."

Marvolo regarded him closely, and when he saw the determination in those expressive green eyes, sighed inaudibly. Harry was right. He was in no condition to do anything right now. He had to regain his strength, and the only way he was going to be able to do that was to rest.

So he inclined his head in acceptance, and allowed Harry to lead him through the halls and up the stairs, and to their room, and into bed. But Harry didn't leave his side, instead sliding in beside him, curling up close by.

Marvolo knew why-could feel why. Harry was scared. Scared of what could have happened, scared of what had happened. It was Marvolo's immortality that had kept him alive, but if that spell had hit Harry instead...

They were actually fortunate with the outcome. But fortunate or not, and though neither of them really understood it, it seemed clear to them that Dumbledore had shown them his true colours.

No matter who did it, even if it was the Boy-Who-Lived himself, siding with the Dark Lord Voldemort in any fashion made them deserving of death. That was their assumption, considering what had happened. As it turned out, that assumption was correct.

As Harry and Marvolo slept, word of the Saviour's betrayal was beginning to spread rapidly.

That's it for now. The next chapter should be up tomorrow. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!