~Surrender~

Rating: M for slash (homoerotic relationship) in later chapters. Oh, and in this chapter, we have underage drinking as well. The Dark Lord is a bad influence...

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

Author's Note: The end of this chapter may shock you. Just trust me, all right? I'll try to update soon.

...

~Chapter 7~

"Just a moment, Mr. Potter."

Harry was on his way up the stairs after dinner when Snape's familiar chilly voice made him pause. Harry groaned. Where was that invisibility cloak when he needed it? Oh, damn, Tom still had it, didn't he?

"Yes, Professor?" Harry turned around, reluctantly, and faced the former potions master.

"I need a word with you, Mr. Potter."

Harry knew that icy softness in Snape's voice all too well. It usually spelled trouble for The Boy Who Lived. Harry glanced around, desperate to sense a slight movement in the air that would signal that Tom was nearby, invisible under the cloak, but there was nothing. Tom must have gone up to the Slytherin common room with Zabini.

Harry glanced at the dark-clad master and braced himself. Snape wished to speak to him. And, Merlin help us, Snape was probably still under the influence of his own truth serum. This wasn't going to be pleasant.

Snape stood quite still for a moment, black inscrutable eyes boring into Harry's soul. Then Snape said quietly: "Do you need help, Mr. Potter?"

"What?" Harry blinked at Snape in confusion. Whatever he had expected Snape to say, it certainly wasn't that. Was this some sort of trap? "Help with what?"

Snape glanced around quickly. No one else was within earshot. He leaned closer to Harry and said in a low voice. "I could sense the Dark Lord inside your mind, Harry. Earlier, in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. What is happening to you? Why is he possessing your thoughts? Are you in danger?"

Harry gazed up at Snape, puzzled. "What? Why..." He could feel a faint prickle of curiosity. Perhaps this was a good opportunity to get some answers from Snape, once and for all. "Why do you care whether I am in danger, Professor?" Harry tried to keep the aggression out of his voice, but it was never easy when speaking to Snape.

Snape sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Why do I care? Oh, for Merlin's sake, you exasperating little brat, do you always have to question my motives? I was offering to help you, damn it. You really are the most annoying Gryffindor to walk these halls since Sirius Black himself. I know that people have already told you ad nauseam how much you resemble your father and your mother, but I swear there are times when you remind me even more of your blasted godfather. That's probably why I always feel like hexing the living daylight out of you two minutes into any conversation I have with you. Like you, Mr. Black would always construe the most innocent remark I made to be the final proof of my undying allegiance to the Dark Forces. It was terribly tiresome."

Harry couldn't help smiling. Snape under the influence of veritaserum was... remarkably like the Snape he had always known. It was rather reassuring in a strange sort of way. Harry glanced curiously at the master's white expressionless face. "Sir, I have always wondered... Which side are you really on, Voldemort's or Dumbledore's?"

Snape was silent for a moment. Then he whispered: "Neither."

"Then which side are you on?" Harry felt confused.

"Yours." Snape refused to meet his glance. "Always yours, Harry. For your mother's sake. I will lay down my life for you if necessary..." Snape's voice trailed off. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then his dark eyes narrowed. "I will also punish you severely for feeding me my own veritaserum, Mr. Potter. I was wondering where those missing vials had gone, but seeing that I suddenly feel an overwhelming need to lay my soul bare for you, I don't think there can be any question about that. Five hundred points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

Harry gazed up at Snape. His mind was reeling. "You... you dock me five hundred points and you think I'm an annoying brat, but you are willing to die for me?"

Snape stood in complete silence for a moment. Then an almost imperceptible smile brushed over his pale features. "Yes. Yes, I think that about sums things up, Mr. Potter."

"I see." Harry grinned. "That's... that's good to know, Professor. And don't worry about the shadowy figure you saw in my mind; I am not in danger of any sort from the Dark Lord at the moment. He is no longer a threat to me."

"Is that so?" Snape's face was impassive. "That's a rather unusual situation for you, isn't it? And speaking of the unusual, Mr. Potter: The conversations at the staff table were rather more interesting than usual this evening. I learned a great deal more about my colleagues than I ever desired to know, quite frankly. Apparently, Professor Sinistra and Bane the centaur are engaged in more than stargazing in the Forbidden Forest at night. I did not need to know that. And if you ask me, I do not think Professor Flitwick's feelings for the Grey Lady are entirely natural, and I certainly did not wish to know about Professor McGonagall's secret hankering for tinned Muggle cat food."

"What?"

"Apparently, the salmon flavored ones are completely irresistible. She sometimes eats them on toast. Professor Dumbledore," continued Snape in the same emotionless tone, "also had quite a few remarkable confessions to make. Apparently, his feelings for The Boy Who Lived are rather less warm and sentimental than most of us had imagined, and the headmaster's secret plans for your future are rather... chilling. Professor McGonagall had to be physically restrained to keep her from - ahem - "punching that damn twinkle out of his eyes once and for all", as she phrased it. And judging by the expression on Professor Sprout's face and her wild mutterings about bubotuber pus, I would not be at all surprised if Professor Dumbledore's acid pops started popping in his mouth rather more than usual in the near future. I dare say the headmaster will need to cast quite a few memory charms in the morning to get on speaking terms with his staff again. And speaking of Professor Dumbledore and memory charms, Mr. Potter..."

"Yes?" Harry tried hard not to blush under Snape's penetrating black gaze.

"The headmaster was talking at some length about a ring he seems to have misplaced. You may have noticed a rather striking ring on the headmaster's hand during his welcoming speech. It is set with an unusual black stone. The ring has gone missing, and the headmaster is desperate to find it. But the odd thing is that he simply can't remember when and where he last saw it. Isn't that curious, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes," muttered Harry. "Very... curious, sir."

Harry held his breath, waiting for Snape to accuse him of stealing Dumbledore's ring. But Snape merely gazed at him for a long moment. Then the former potions master whispered: "If you happen to find that stone, use it well... That will be all, Mr. Potter."

...

"So what do you think it all means, Tom?" Harry leaned up against his pillows and sipped at the glass of champagne Tom had provided for him. It tasted light and luminous and crisp, like September sunshine in a glass. Apparently, Slughorn's memory had evoked a sudden nostalgia for champagne in Tom, for he had shown up with a dusty bottle and two glasses as soon as the other Gryffindor boys had fallen into their usual enchanted slumber.

"The prophecy?" A smile illuminated Tom's impossibly beautiful face. "And neither can live without the other? Why, I should have thought that the answer is obvious, my dear. It means that we belong together, you and I." He reached out and brushed a hand gently through Harry's messy hair. "Always."

Harry felt a strange and pleasurable shiver at the touch. "You will stay with me forever, then?"

"Of course I will." Tom poured himself some more champagne. "Well, except tomorrow morning. Since it's Saturday and we don't have classes, I'm going to leave you for a few hours to go and take care of a few things. But I will be back as soon as I can."

"Really?" Harry felt ridiculously disappointed. He had already planned the Hogsmeade trip with Tom in his head. "Where are you going, then?"

But Tom just laughed and shook his head. "Oh, I don't think you want to know, Harry. Dark Lord business. Apparently, you can't leave death eaters unsupervised for long periods of time, or they will get themselves into all sorts of mischief."

Harry swallowed. "So you are still... Voldemort, then?"

Tom put his glass down on the bedside table. "Did you think I wasn't?" he asked softly. There was a strange expression on his face that Harry couldn't read.

Harry looked down. "No, it's not that... I just..."

"Just what?" Tom's hand brushed lightly over his cheek.

"I don't want you to be him," whispered Harry. "I want you to be you. Just Tom."

"I see." Tom flopped down among Harry's pillows. "No dark cloaks and death eaters? But I look good in black!" His silver eyes sparkled. "Oh, and we should keep the death eaters, Harry, really we should. At least a few of them. I'll make them do your homework for you if you want."

Harry laughed. "Yes, you can make Snape do my potions homework. I like that idea."

Tom grinned. "I could do it, you know. It would be rather amusing. But who will I ask to kill Dumbledore for me? I was thinking of asking Draco, but since he is not here..."

Harry shook his head rapidly. "No, Tom. No more killing. No murders."

"Ever?" Tom seemed stunned at the thought. "You know I am always happy to do what you want, my dear, but do try and be reasonable. Bellatrix is an excellent assassin-"

Harry turned his face away. "I know, Tom. She killed my godfather, Sirius Black."

"I never asked her to do that," said Tom softly. "She acted on her own accord. But I will make sure that she never harms anyone you care for ever again. Bella will always do whatever I ask of her; she is completely devoted to me, heart and soul."

" I know." Harry's glance lingered on Tom's dark curls. "She is in love with you, isn't she?"

"Yes, of course." Tom reached out lazily for the champagne. "Here, have some more, Harry. 1921 is one of my favorite vintages, and this bottle was stored well; I lifted it from the Minister's wine cellars myself. It's lovely to be back at Hogwarts, but I've had enough of that ghastly pumpkin juice this past week to last me for a lifetime. This is much better, isn't it?"

Harry sipped the sparkling drink. The little bubbles seemed to flow straight into his blood, and he was beginning to feel lightheaded. He looked at Tom's lovely face, flushed from the champagne now, and his heart gave a curious little lurch.

"Do you love her?"

"Who?" Tom seemed puzzled for a moment. "Oh, Bella, you mean? No, of course not." He made a face. "What a preposterous idea, my dear."

"So you were never... lovers? You and Bellatrix?" Harry's voice didn't seem to be working properly; it sounded all hoarse and funny.

"Lovers? Oh, yes, from time to time." Tom sat up in Harry's bed now. "Oh. That thought disturbs you, doesn't it? Don't worry, Harry - I'll inform her that it will never happen again."

"Er... okay." Harry buried his flushing face in his pillow. He couldn't help but wonder how many lovers the Dark Lord had had. Perhaps he didn't really want to know the answer to that.

"Are you all right?" Tom's voice was a whisper in his ear. "Come, let's finish the champagne."

"I'm not even of age yet," muttered Harry as he sat up and reached for his glass. "We must be breaking all sorts of school rules right now."

Tom laughed. "School rules? Oh, don't be absurd, Harry! If anyone were to come in and find the Dark Lord in Harry Potter's bed, I really don't think they would be particularly worried about the champagne, my dear." He raised his glass. "To us, Harry, and to the true prophecy!"

...

"That's funny," muttered Ron as they were passing the House Points hourglasses in the entrance hall the next morning. "I could have sworn Gryffindor had a lot more points than that." He frowned at the few scattered rubies at the bottom of the Gryffindor hourglass. "We had as many as Slytherin, and quite a few more than Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. It looks like Gryffindor lost hundreds and hundreds of points overnight."

"I asked some of the professors about it earlier," said Hermione thoughtfully. "But no one seems to know anything about it. In fact, all of the professors seemed to be in a sort of daze this morning. None of them remembered anything at all from last night, and no one recalled taking points from Gryffindor. Strange, isn't it?"

"Er..." Harry felt himself flush. "I'm afraid I... ran into Snape last night."

Hermione groaned. "Seriously, Harry! You must learn not to provoke Snape. What did you say to him?"

"I wish I had been there to hear it," muttered Ron wistfully. "It must have been good, to make you lose... how many points did he dock you?"

"Five hundred. I'm... sorry about that."

Ron gave a whistle. "Wow. Five hundred? Even Fred and George never managed more than three hundred in a single night." He put his arm around Harry's shoulder. "Come on. I'll buy you a butterbeer in Hogsmeade to cheer you up. Just wait till Fred and George hear of this! They'll be impressed."

Hermione glanced coldly at Ron. "It's not funny, Ronald. Gryffindor is completely out of the running for the House Cup now."

"Yeah, right." Ron didn't look the least bit concerned. "Don't worry, Hermione. You know Harry will pull off some fantastic stunt at the end and win us the cup, like he usually does. If you kill You-Know-Who before June, that should be worth thousands of points, don't you think, Harry?"

Harry squirmed. "Er... I suppose so. Come on, let's go get some cockroach clusters, shall we? I'm famished."

...

The cockroach clusters were good, and the company even better. Harry thoroughly enjoyed laughing with Ron and Hermione over butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks and browsing the bizarre artifacts at Zonko's. He rolled his eyes when he found a bin of fake lightning bolt scars, but he bought one each for Ron and Hermione anyway. They immediately charmed the marks onto their foreheads, laughing madly.

"Fake dark marks?" Hermione peered into another bin. "I can't imagine who would want to buy those!"

"Let me see!" Harry selected a particularly ominous-looking one. "I'll take one. I know someone who would find it rather funny."

Hermione smiled to herself. "Where is Draco today, anyway?" she asked casually. "I would have thought he'd want to come to Hogsmeade with you."

"He had a few things to do," said Harry quickly. "I'm sure he will come along later." He paid for his purchases, and the shopkeeper giggled so hard when he saw what Harry bought that he made the wrong change twice.

"Oh, I see him!" exclaimed Hermione as they stepped out into the street. "Look, there he is, Harry - behind the hawthorn bushes."

"What's he slinking around in the bushes for, anyway?" muttered Ron, but Hermione shushed him.

Harry, who had also spied a flash of dark robes and flaxen hair among the hawthorn, smiled to himself. "I'll see if he wants to join us..."

He approached the hawthorn bushes and bent the branches gently aside.

The next moment, his breath caught painfully in his chest. Two boys were standing there, with their backs to the street. The September sun made Draco Malfoy's white-gold hair shine like a halo. But Tom didn't turn around. Apparently, he didn't hear Harry coming.

He was busy kissing Blaise Zabini.

To Be Continued...