It's not as long as I would have liked it to be but I had to make a cut off somewhere. I'd love to read your feedback! Be sure to leave some before you go!

With Harry keeping track of the days and nights passing by outside, he noted that they had now been trapped in this cell, with no word about the outside world, for five weeks. Time seemed to pass slower than normal, for Harry and Draco had absolutely nothing to base more assumptions on.

They'd fallen into a silent routine of waking up, eating their food and taking turns staring out the window at the endless ocean. They'd wash up when the death eater, now known as Peters, would bring them every other day to the quiet lavatory and at night after eating their second meal they'd lean up against the wall, arm touching arm, shoulder touching shoulder, and fall asleep together.

There was no trace of hatred left for one another. Their lives at Hogwarts seemed so distant, as if someone else had lived them. All they had was this understanding that each were all they had left.

One evening as Harry stared out of the small window watching the stars twinkle freely in the sky, he heard Draco come up from behind him and sigh quite audibly. Breaking his gaze away from the window he watched as Draco leaned against the wall. He was watching Harry too.

"Do you think we'll die here?"

Harry shrugged and imitated Draco, turning to lean against the wall. He felt a chill from the window at his back and shivered. Instantly Draco shifted over, pressing his arm against Harry's, a tiny gesture of warmth. Harry looked over and peered up at Draco. "I don't know."

They stared at each other for what seemed way too long and an unwelcomed heat started to rise in Harry's face. Draco's unwavering gaze was piercing right through him. Was it the wind or Draco that made him shiver now?

Draco barely moved an inch but it was enough for Harry to react. He backed away in what looked like a fluid manner but he in fact was a bit panicky. His heart started to throb in his chest and lodge in his throat all at the same time. Draco made no move from his spot against the wall. He just watched as Harry moved to the middle of the cell.

"Harry, I-"

The door to the cell burst open with such force it banged against the stone wall behind it. Harry and Draco jumped nearly out of their skin from the sound but upon seeing the Dark Lord standing in the doorway they quickly scrambled against the back wall. They watched silently as Voldemort entered the room just as he had the night he took Draco to wash up. When he reached out for the two, each expected Draco to be picked once more but instead he gripped Harry's shirt by the neck and swung him around.

Harry lost his balance and fell to the floor but with Voldemort advancing on him he quickly found his footing. Again Voldemort grasped Harry by the neck of his shirt and dragged him out of the cell.

There was only time for Harry to quickly glance over his shoulder, eyes wide with fear, at Draco, before the door swung shut behind them with a resounding boom.

The hallway was instantly colder than it had ever been before but Harry didn't have much time to think on trivial things like temperature as he was being shoved along.

Voldemort still said nothing and a sudden anger at the constant shoving and constant silence was starting to rise up inside of Harry.

At one point he tripped and lost his footing again but instead of falling to the hard ground, a hand gripped his arm to steady him. Harry ripped himself away and glared at the other. "Don't touch me." He spat.

Voldemort smirked but bowed his head in mock acquiescence before they each continued down the hallway.

They passed by the familiar door to the wash room and when Harry stopped to go in, Voldemort kept up his stride and walked on by. Perplexed and confused Harry watch Voldemort continue on, not pausing to even wait for the other to follow.

He could turn back, back to the cell and the safety that was Draco, but something much stronger than his anger bubbled its way to the surface.

That damn curiosity would be the death of Harry Potter some day and he thought equally so before cursing under his breath and taking off to follow his mortal enemy.

They seemed to walk for quite some time, the silence a bit unnerving to Harry, but eventually they came to another iron door. Harry hardly had a moment to wonder what lay beyond it before the door swung open on its own, light and warmth hitting him like a brick.

It was, again, another room that was oddly misplaced and didn't seem to belong in this dreary stone castle atmosphere.

The walls were lined in a deep red, ancient wallpaper, peering out from between bookshelves that lined three fourths of the room. Harry knew at once this was a bedroom but the bed was not the centerpiece. Instead it was a pair of cozy chairs, a small table between them, and a rug lying underneath. They were positioned next to a large fireplace and the fire inside burned brightly.

Harry watched the fire for a moment, a bit hesitant to move away from the door. The memory of the cold stone floor however pushed him forwards. Instead of choosing to sit in one of the chairs, he took a seat on the floor by the fire, trying to get as close as possible without getting burned.

It felt as if the fire was warming not only his skin but his bones. If he had felt like ice before, it was a distant memory as color rose in his face, blood circulating back into every corner of his body. He shut his eyes and drenched himself in this warmth.

As quickly as the inviting feeling had come though, it fleeted when Voldemort came into the room. Harry felt his darkness coil around him and destroy whatever happy thoughts the fire had allotted him. He turned to watch that darkness glide to one of the chairs and sit.

"Where am I?" Harry blurted out, unable to stop himself. He exploded from his spot on the floor. "Why aren't I dead?" The questions came tumbling out and Harry didn't care how crass he was, yelling like a spoiled brat demanding something from a parent. What was the point in waiting when he had the direct source right in front of him? He opened his mouth to yell some more when Voldemort held up one, steady hand.

"Enough." It was steady and gentle but all the same effective.

Something akin to shivers unexpectedly trickled down Harry's spine. More, undefined feelings were starting to cloud his anger. Repulsion? Disgust? For a moment Harry realized he had briefly forgotten what Voldemort sounded like. He'd spent so long in that cell, so alone with his thoughts, that trivial things tucked themselves away.

A tiny flutter of horror crossed Harry's mind.

Had he simply missed that voice? Was this strange pinprick he was feeling in his chest relief at finally hearing Voldemort speak? Or relief that he'd finally be getting some answers?

Shaking his head, Harry stood and began to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace.

"You've been keeping me in the dark."

"A most astute observation."

Harry could practically feel the mocking tone dripping from Voldemort's mouth. He tried to ignore it.

"Tell me something Harry, how are things fairing in your cell?"

It didn't work.

"Shut up!" It burst forth so suddenly it scared even himself but he kept going, unwinding all the hurt, all the hatred, all the confusion he had pent up. "Why didn't you just kill me? You had the perfect chance!"

Voldemort made no move to shift in his seat, he just stared back at the young man in front him, watching rage flow from him like the waves from the ocean outside.

Harry's hands had balled into fists and he huffed by the fire. "Why?" He asked, his voice breaking softly.

Effortlessly, Voldemort's mouth curved to one side, entertained by this ball of mess staring daggers at him. "It was my plan to kill you, Harry."

"So why didn't you? I was there, I-"

"Draco."

His name fell from Voldemort's lips, standing alone as an explanation.

Harry's shoulders fell as a bit of his resolve ebbed away. "But even if he killed Nagini, why not just kill us there?"

Voldemort gestured for Harry to join him in sitting down in the comfy chairs. Harry obliged but sat on the edge, tense and trying his best to be ready for anything.

Red eyes slithered away from Harry's stare to the fire in front of them. Silence hung in the air between the two for a good minute before Voldemort spoke again.

"I didn't know what I know now." The words were spoken softly, thoughtfully. "I know what you are."

Harry felt like someone had knocked the air from his lungs. He watched as the Dark Lord turned to him again and smile. His body began to shake and dread filled every fiber of his being. "W-what am I?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

Voldemort chuckled, a deep rumbling laugh that sent shivers throughout Harry. "You're my last remaining Horcrux."

Harry was so shocked he couldn't bring himself to speak. He continued to watch the Dark Lord, utterly beside himself.

"I have you to thank for that actually, you and that wretched mistake Lucius Malfoy."

Something sparked inside Harry at the mention of Malfoy Sr. and Voldemort took notice, tearing his gaze away from the fire to Harry.

"When you came to me, to die, I was overjoyed. Thrilled that I would have what I'd been working towards these few long years." Voldemort smirked. "But when you betrayed me, when you let that boy kill my precious Nagini…" Silence passed between them, an echo of loss, of anger. "I knew that you couldn't die until I'd had my revenge. The killing curse would have been too easy on you, no I needed you squirming, begging, pleading that the sweet release of death was your only salvation."

Harry's heart hammered in his chest. He was listening so intensely, too scared to move or say anything. His body felt like it might break from the rising tension.

"I resigned to take you and Draco, because he too deserved punishment and while Lucius was away, I played." Voldemort's mouth contorted in the sickest of grins as he watched Harry stiff as stone in the chair across from him. Could those green eyes get any bigger?

"Lucius couldn't run for long however, and within a couple of days I found him and I extracted all the information I needed. For in those days he'd been on the run, he'd heard far and wide from the mouth of every witch and wizard that you were meant to die in that forest, that when you died I would be nothing more than a mere mortal man. I couldn't quite let you go after that bit of news, now could I?"

Though Harry had been dying to have Voldemort speak to him, he suddenly wished for the silence. He watched as Voldemort leaned forward in his seat, his long grey fingers clutching at the arm rests. Harry hatred for the Dark Lord multiplied against himself tenfold.

It wasn't as if he saw this scenario playing out when he'd left his friends to die, but the utter stupidity of telling Ron and Hermione to let everyone know showed on his face. How could he be so blind as to let that information out there where Voldemort could potentially hear it? Harry wanted to kick himself.

"So-so I'm to live here? Forever?" Harry's voice quivered in his throat and at that moment he wished he would die, just float up and out of his body away from all this mess.

Voldemort chuckled again. "I have big plans for you, boy."