Author note: Hello everyone. I've been looking forward to this chapter. I hope all of you enjoy it as much as I had writing it.

The Unbroken Threads

Chapter Fourteen

The One He Should Have Feared

There was exactly two seconds of silence in the Great Hall before a cry broke the peace. Harry turned to see who had been the first, but the crowd was shifting quickly as terror set in. Students scattered towards the exit as though they could hide or outrun the threat lurking outside the castle walls, others stayed frozen in place, clutching their robes, sobbing, or screaming. Harry watched as many students stumbled over each other in their haste to get out of the hall, a few were no doubt caught underfoot in the mad rush. Harry stepped forward just as a deafening crack rang out followed by great blue sparks shooting from the end of a black wand.

Harry jumped at the sound, and turned to see Snape, looking annoyed at best, his wand raised, and his lips curved down. The students, like Harry, looked at the Defense teacher.

"There will be order," he announced, his voice ringing through the hall. Snape eyes went across the room in much the same manner he would in his class. "I expect any of those currently on the ground will stand up immediately."

A few shuffles were heard, and several students were helped to their feet. Harry watched as Ginny pulled a first year up, and Neville was assisting a Hufflepuff girl. It only took seconds but Harry was clenching his wand. When the hall remained silent after the students were all on their feet, Snape turned his focus to the Auror still panting at the door.

"Mr. Proudfoot," -the Auror's eyes locked on Snape- "Inform the Minister, I'm sure he'll want to know the Dark Lord is visiting the school."

Proudfoot lingered by the door, watching the frightened students.

"I'm not sure if you're aware, Mr. Proudfoot, but the Dark Lord doesn't linger," Snape sardonically, his gaze narrowed. "I suggest neither should you."

Proudfoot's brows lowered, and looked as though he wanted to argue. Harry was surprised when the Auror gave a sharp nod, then left the hall.

"Prefects," Snape addressed once more, several students including Hermione and Ron snapped to attention. "Lead first and second years to their dormitories. Third years and above, follow me."

With no question, as to his orders being obeyed, Snape spun on his heel to march from the hall.

Harry looked at his friends, who were already gathering first and second year students together. Hermione was quick, and ordering them in a line, while Ron took up the front, his wand out and already leading a group out the doors. As though sensing someone was watching them, they both looked up. Hermione, thin lipped but utterly determined, mouthed 'GO' while Ron offered a salute, before he disappeared out the doors.

His mind made up, Harry jumped from the platform, and quickly dashed through the crowding students to follow Snape. No one was rushing to meet up with a potential army, so Harry had little trouble shoving past people to walk nearly shoulder to shoulder with Snape, who barely spared a glance in Harry's direction.

There was seldom a face that wasn't pale, and on the verge of crying. A few of the Ravenclaw girls were in tears, Cho amongst them, but Harry felt numb to it. He was past the time in his life where impressing Cho no longer mattered, and found he was fine with that. The world had changed the night Dumbledore died, and even more when Harry learned about the prophecy. This new world had no room for boasting, or attempting to impress girls. It was too filled with overwhelming weight, that Harry could not comfort anyone, for he was feeling every bit as terrified.

He marched with the rest of the students being led by Snape towards the oak doors. He had a sinking sensation in his gut, a wild thought running through his mind that caused him to stumble into the student next to him.

What if Snape was leading them to their deaths?

Harry's eyes snapped to the Defense teacher's face, which was the picture of calm. Snape appeared to be going through the halls as though this was merely another day, no harsh creases, no faltered step. If he was on Voldemort's side this whole time, wouldn't Harry and Riddle know? Wouldn't Dumbledore?

"Keep up, Potter," Snape said without even a glance. Harry caught himself, and continued forward.

"Ah, there you are," said a silky voice that made Harry's heart swell.

Tom Riddle stood near the doors in dark blue robes tightly fitted against his body, missing all the draping fabric that usually adorned the older man, and Riddle looked as though he were greeting a friend, soft smile on his face. Riddle waved his hand at the doors, which groaned before opening to the grounds.

"I've informed Minerva of the events. She was the rest shall join us shortly," Riddle continued undaunted, his hands now folded behind his back. He walked outside, with Snape making two large strides to catch him. They strolled together into the courtyard with a hundred or so frightened students following.

"He will make it past the second defense soon," Snape said, his head tilted up to look at the sky.

Harry followed his gaze, but couldn't see anything. The blue was tinted vibrant purples, pinks, and oranges as the sun was just an hour from setting. A few stars winked in and out of sight, still outshined by the remaining sun. The clouds were thick folds of white and grey, filled with water, and brought in the sharp cool wind that hinted at the beginnings of winter, but try as he might, Harry could not see a single thing out of place. He suspected there was an invisible shield much like the one his Aunt and Uncle had around their neighborhood. He hoped it would hold, and Voldemort would leave having grown tired of trying to get past it.

"It will take him a few minutes to work it out at least," Riddle mused, a small smirk on his face.

Everyone looked up as a crack echoed through the air as the sky lit up with sparks of vicious green, with specks of deep purple scattering like veins which pulsed a few times, before another crack echoed. Then, it cleared away, the normal vibrant colors appearing as though nothing occurred but a distant rumbling sound like thunder lingered.

"A few minutes, you say," Snape quipped, though Harry noticed the tightness grew around his eyes.

Riddle paused in his steps just as the last student crossed the threshold of the school. He gazed at the sky for a moment, then turned to the students.

"I know many of you are wondering if you must fight today," Riddle began, his voice easily carrying despite the wind kicking up. "I assure you, I will do my best to make sure none of you have to lift your wands against Voldemort or his Death Eaters."

A few gasps were heard, but if it was for hearing Voldemort's name, or Riddle's declaration, Harry couldn't be sure. He gripped his wand tightly, wondering how Riddle could possibly think he was enough to hold back all the Death Eaters, and his counterpart without any assistance. As though feeling his worries, the scar on Harry's forehead prickled for the first time that day, and a swooping in his gut. Harry barely had time to wonder why it chose now of all times to react, when a thunderous boom echoed out across the grassy fields.

Riddle leaned towards Snape, "I believe it's time for me to greet our guest."

"He does hate waiting," Snape answered, and his hand slipped into his robes. Harry saw the flash of a bone white wand, before Riddle tucked it into his sleeve. Snape's hand grasped Riddle's wrist, his thumb resting where the wand lay hidden, and Snape's eyes narrowed. With a hiss that Harry could barely make out even this close, "Hold your promise."

"I always do," Riddle said, but Snape did not look happy at that reply. They held each other a beat longer, then Snape let go. Riddle nodded and then turned towards the students, arms spread out, and smile across his face. "If all of you would be so kind as to point your wands towards the sky, and cast Protego Maxima."

No one moved.

"You heard the Headmaster," Snapped the defense teacher.

Harry was among the first to cast, throwing all his might into the spell. A string of blue light came from his wand, raising into the sky, and creating a bubble. Another string joined his, and Harry could see Ginny, pale and beautiful, casting her own charm. Several more sprung up around Harry, all merging together in the sky until light surrounded the castle. Harry waited for Riddle or Snape to join in, but they did not. Instead, Snape and Riddle watched the shield formed around the school. Riddle, at least, was smiling at the progress.

"Well done everyone," he said as the shield completed, and everyone lowered their wands slowly but the light remained. "If any of you do not want to continue from here, Professor Snape will accompany any students wishing to remain safe inside the castle. The intruders will not get inside the castle, I promise, regardless as to who comes with, or stays behind."

A couple of third years, and two fourth years rushed back inside the castle. Snape walked calmly back into the castle, pausing slightly near the door way, then continued in. Harry watched his robes disappear inside, and a small form creep out from behind taller students.

The mousy brown hair, and familiar green robes made Harry frown. He should have suspected the young Slytherin would sneak out with them, but Harry didn't have to time to tell him off, and honestly, Harry thought everyone who wanted to join the fight should be allowed. He faced Voldemort twice by Alfie's age.

"All of you are very brave," Riddle said, his eyes roaming over the crowd, but landing just over Harry's shoulder. "Follow me, but do not interfere. Do not step outside the barrier, and do not, under any circumstance, rush to my side if I fall." -his eyes connected with Harry's, and Harry sucked in a sharp breath- "Is that clear?"

Harry nodded, though he doubted he could follow those orders. Riddle continued to pin him with a stare, a twinge in Harry's scar but he refused to flinch from it. Then seemingly satisfied with what he saw, Riddle turned to lead the crowd of students down the Hogwarts's grounds and towards the awaiting Dark Lord.

Harry's eyes remained forward, his wand tight in his fist, and the grass crunching beneath his feet. The number of students following them made it sound like an army marching, with whispering of protection spells, mutters of hastily remembered charms, and a few with their hands together seemingly praying.

The outside of the protective spell where it met with the hardening fall soil could be seen. The grass was undisturbed by the spell as it cast a pale blue tint to the surrounding area. Inside of it was peaceful, the wind itself not allowed through the protection. That was where the tranquility ended as what lay outside the spell, however, was a different matter.

Worried about Voldemort, Harry did not register the unnatural chill creeping up his spine. The once fall air was becoming colder and colder with every step he took. A cold that reached right down into his throat and tore at his lungs… and he felt that stealing sense of despair, of hopelessness, filling him, expanding inside him…

Harry's head moved to spy the dark shapes floated ethereal around, never touching the protection but lurking just beyond. Even without seeing their horrible gasping mouths or the decayed crusts that were their hands, Harry knew they were Dementors. Several of the students were crossing their arms, rubbing as though trying to produce a warmth that would not come. Not while the Dementors gathered, waiting for the shield to falter.

Fight it, he told himself. So, he continued to move forward as quickly as he could, focusing on the people around him, their warmth. He forced himself to think of Ron and Hermione, who would just be finishing assisting the younger years into the tower, before rushing out to the grounds. They needed him to be standing.

As though aware of him battling through the Dementor's aura, Harry felt his scar begin to throb with his thunderous heartbeat. Glad for the pain over the utter despair, Harry concentrated on the ache. He felt it surge from his forehead, through his cheeks, down his neck, and below. While the pain could not reach his stomach, he did become queasy, it twisting in knots over the conflicting emotions. Every step he took it became worse, until his eyes almost screwed shut against the pain.

A warm hand rested on Harry's back, and Neville's concerned face came into view.

"You all right, Harry?" he whispered in worry, though he was pale, and looked to be shaking.

"Fine," Harry grunted back, straightening himself. They continued to move, Neville keeping a hand there like a life line for both. Harry felt Neville's hand clench, right before Harry's scar burst open with searing agony.

Lord Voldemort stood a few paces away, his wand held aloft, dark robes gently ruffling in the cold winds, and his piercing red eyes stared unblinking at their approach. The blue glow from the shielding spell made his already pale skin appear hauntingly ghoulish.

Voldemort tilted his head, as though inspecting a hapless insect, and swung his arm in a cutting motion. Another cracking sound echoed loudly as the shield broke, dissolving into a mist that lingered like steam. The protection cast by the students was split with a simple gesture.

"Pathetic," said the high, cold voice with a jeer.

Cackles was scattered around, as Death Eaters appeared like specters from the shadows cast by the trees in the Forbidden Forrest. The dark robed witches and wizards quickly took positions behind the Dark Lord, and one witch with a mad laugh, to his side.

Harry felt nails from Neville's hand dig into his back, but it was a welcoming feeling compared to the ache in his chest. There was no doubt in Harry's mind who belonged to that laugh as he heard it often in his nightmares of Sirius's death. Harry turned towards his fellow Gryffindor to ask if he would remove his hand, but paused when he saw Neville's face.

The usually clumsy, but brave hearted boy Harry spent years with, had a harden look on his face. His nostrils flared in anger, eyes piercing, and his lips thinned so tightly they were white. As though being struck, Harry remembered Neville's parents, and decided Neville could clench his back if he needed.

"Voldemort," Riddle declared in a manner better suited to greet friends. "I've been looking forward to this meeting for some time."

"Strange way to show me your eagerness with all those pitiful protections," Voldemort said in scathing voice, his head tilting like a serpent eyeing a particularly clever mouse. His followers jeered, and hissed at Riddle. Voldemort spread his arms in a grand gesture, his eyes glinted maliciously, a curled smirk pulled at his thin lips. "I suppose I should not have expected better from a coward who hides behind silver masks… and a glamour."

Riddle's head tilted in thought, his hands behind his back, and his right-hand twitching. He did not respond right away, allowing the laughter from the Death Eaters to fade awkwardly, since Riddle did not appear intimidated in the least, and Voldemort's red eyes never left the man in front of him. As though waiting for the moment when everyone fell silent, Riddle stepped forward just as the last chuckle died, and raised his left hand.

Snap.

A silver shield crackling over the entire school so quickly many of the students backed away from it, and many of the Death Eaters jumped. The Dementors flailed, their great mouths sucking in air sharply, as they scattered away from the shield. Their cold dissipated with their absence and Harry felt the hairs on his arm raise, and the warmth of Riddle's shield pulsed deep into his skin akin to a Patronous.

Harry's eyes went to Riddle, who was standing just a foot outside the shield's protection, and his heart leapt into his throat.

"I do so tire of masks," Riddle began with his voice pitched high, and slow. His hand raised up to his face, a silver mask appearing in his grip. The same one from the Ministry.

Voldemort and Riddle stood only a few feet away from one another now. Harry could only see Voldemort's face, and the back of Riddle, but the Dark Lord's lowered brow, and twitch in his jaw conveyed the fury hiding underneath.

"Now, let's have a proper introduction," Riddle tossed the silver mask at Voldemort's feet, and his own figure shimmered as though seeing him through disturbed water, before it snapped back into view. Riddle began to move, allowing all to see his form.

Harry almost dropped his own wand in shock.

Riddle stood tall, and lithe framed, thinner than before, with cheeks gaunt, and skin pale. His dark hair had a shocking streak of white starting from his temple, and going back to the base of his skull. But, the thing that sent a shiver down Harry's spine was his red eyes. They appeared almost enflamed, ruby red like broken glass scattered through white, and the normally blue iris replaced by a deep, dark maroon color that reminded Harry of dried blood. The shocked gasps, and Neville loosening his hold, brought Harry back to the present.

Riddle strolled through the grass in the same manner he had at the Ministry, undaunted, but always keeping himself between Voldemort and Harry. The world seemed to narrow between the two men, the Death Eaters crept back into the shadows, almost blurring into the mangled tree line of the forest, and the students were behind Harry, silent spectators to the clash that would begin soon. Even the Dementors kept their distance, unsettling hovering in the air above like ill omens.

The men circled each other, Riddle calm, and Voldemort's expression did not change but his red eyes seem to burn in the light cast by the setting sun.

Slowly, Voldemort drew the yew wand between his long fingers.

Riddle's head tilted like a serpent, then matched the gesture by drawing his own yew wand.

They paused identically.

"It's not possible," Voldemort uttered.

"I find very few things are impossible," answered a voice, and it took a moment for Harry to realize that was not Voldemort speaking, but Riddle, his tone so matched to the Dark Lord's. The Death Eaters must have thought the same, as for the first time since the men began to circle, he heard them muttering to each other.

"Who are you?" Voldemort demanded.

"My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr," Riddle answered quietly but his high, cold voice reached like a chilled wind across everyone gathered and each word hung in the air. Harry heard a sharp gasp from behind him, but never strayed his gaze from the two figures in front. Riddle's chin pointed up, and a growing smirk pulled at his lips, he continued, "Apprentice to Albus Dumbledore and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The words echoed out across the grounds as both men so alike, and yet nothing alike, raised their wands. Voldemort, eyes narrowed and his fury only given away by the throbs of pain resonating in Harry's scar, and Riddle, head tilted like a curious child, was almost serene if not for his shattered red eyes flickering in the sunset.

For a moment, everything was still.

Then two streams of green flew from identical wands to meet in the middle, loud as canon fire, and so strong the silver shield crackled even though it was not struck. A horrible whine cut through the air, worse than nails on a chalkboard, louder than a blowhorn, and made the ground tremble. Harry slapped his hands over his ears, the noise piercing his very brain, and ridding it of all thoughts other than to silence the terrible blaring whine.

As quickly as it started, the noise faded, and Harry's eyes sprung open just as the green light diminished.

Voldemort's pupils were narrowed to slits, the skin around his eyes white, and his thin lips parted by a hair. His wand was still outstretched even as the killing curse had faded into nothing, and for once, he appeared to be at a loss of what to do. Riddle mirrored the Dark Lord's posture, his own wand extended, but his expression was vastly different. The corner of his lip curled into a smile, his head still tilted, curious, and his eyes danced with amusement.

Tom Riddle for the first time, was absolutely in his element.

"A trick!" Voldemort snarled, and a corresponding wave of pain echoed through Harry, making him shut his eyes against it. "You think yourself more clever than Lord Voldemort?"

"Not more, just equally," Riddle teased and was rewarded with a vicious spell.

Riddle moved in time once more, but dodged it instead of countering, allow the spell to blast into the shield which crackled under the pressure, but held. The students, along with Professor McGonagall who Harry wasn't aware of, leapt back. Harry quickly looked over his shoulder, and could now make out many of the Order members including Moody, Lupin, Kingsley, Mr., and Mrs. Weasley. Amongst them were several professors, along with frightened, but otherwise unharmed, Aurors Savage, and Proudfoot.

"Explain," the Dark Lord demanded.

"No." answered Riddle, his smile growing enough to crease his nose, and display his teeth.

Voldemort snarled in rage, a sound truly frightening, and lashed out at the Headmaster. Riddle flicked his wrist, and the spell dissipated in midair, then with another twist, the ground shook.

The very grass, soil, and rocks moved together like flowing water, growing taller, and taller until it formed a giant snake almost as towering as a Basilisk. The Dementors hovering above lurched away from the shifting beast as it reared up. A hole opened at the top akin to a snake's mouth, striking for Voldemort. Inches from reaching the Dark Lord, green steam seeped from the horrible creation, its form quickly withering, and breaking apart, falling harmlessly to the ground within a second.

Then several things happened rapidly.

Voldemort stepped toward Riddle, bringing his wand up like a sword, and the air itself felt hot. Harry gasped for breath, having to stumble back, as the protective shield crackled and popped like burning wood. A few hands grabbed at Harry, holding him upright, as fire poured from Voldemort's wand. It rushed against the shield like a raging river and licked at the ground as it advanced towards Riddle, casting harsh light across his figure. As the fire nearly lapped at Riddle's feet, his form dissolved into black mist.

Harry's eyes tracked the mist which landed behind the front line of Death Eaters. Before the three hooded figures could react, a flash of red sparked, and they fell like rag dolls to the ground. Riddle's form appeared, a calm expression on his face.

Voldemort turned his wand, the fire disappeared, leaving behind chard ground with puffs of smoke still raising.

Riddle circled, his eyes focused on Voldemort, but the Death Eaters around him raised their wands. Unlike the battle in the graveyard, Voldemort did not call them off. Harry sucked in air, his lungs still burning from the harsh fire, to shout a warning, but Riddle did not need it. The spells aimed at Riddle's back collided with an invisible shield, bouncing back at their owners. A few of the clever ones ducked, including Bellatrix, but two were not fortunate. One let out a terrible shriek, a wound looking like a sword had sliced diagonally from shoulder to hip appeared. They fell, still crying, and the other one crumpled to the ground without a sound.

"You've lost," Voldemort announced with a victorious laugh, his wand raised once more, and instead of aiming at Riddle, pointed to Harry.

Harry could see Riddle's lips moving but no words as a green jet of light aimed right at Harry's chest came flying across the field. The shield, that had kept everyone safe shattered as the spell hit it, and before Harry had a chance to even raise his wand in defense, a dark mist appeared.

The horrible whining sound occurred once more, making Harry feel like it was cleaving his head in two. His eyes scrunched closed, but he fought against it, wanting to see what had happened.

The sound faded, and Harry heard the harsh breathing from Riddle standing in front of him, his shoulders rounded, head lowered, and he spoke. His voice caused Harry to step away even though it wasn't directed at him.

"You… will not harm my boy," his voice low, cold with fury.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed to slits, though not in anger. In thought. Then, with a twitch, his thin lips parted into a cruel, mocking smile.

"You care for him," Voldemort said in repulsion.

Riddle did not answer, and he didn't have to. Voldemort knew the truth as Riddle straightened, his wand flicking, and the shield around the school crackled as it returned one more, with Harry inside the protection, and Riddle, outside.

Each man observed the other, this time Riddle was quietly seething, and Voldemort was calm. The hooded figures moved around quietly, as though nervous, but no spells were cast. The Aurors, and Order still behind the protective shield were much the same. Wands out, all glancing at each other, ashen faced, and unsure. No one dared to interfere in this match.

Riddle and Voldemort circled once more, unblinking eyes staring at each other, steps measured, and wands grasped firmly between their fingers. They moved as one, tipping their yew wands up, and the air filled with electricity. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on end, his scar no longer throbbing, but a steady pressure of aching. He knew one thing for certain in that moment; this duel would be over with the next spell.

Then, Riddle smiled.

Two jets of blue shot at each other from the identical wands, but Riddle was moving forward with his, walking straight using the cover of the powerful light, he swiftly maneuvered into Voldemort's space. They met mere inches from each other, close enough to feel each other's breath. The spells died, but the chilling ringing echoed as it faded, and the glow remained for a moment longer.

Harry saw Riddle's lips move but could not hear what was said. Voldemort's eyes widen, and he stumbled back a few paces. Riddle remained still, watching his counterpart retreat with a blank expression on his face.

As though woken from a spell, Voldemort glanced over the area, finally taking in the number of Aurors, and Order of the Phoenix members had appeared. Then, his red eyes went to his Death Eaters, some were fallen, a few stood ready to right, but many more shaken by Riddle's competence, unsure of the battle.

Voldemort tilted his head, a moment, then vanished with a crack.

His Death Eaters instantly reacted, retreating into the forest quickly Any attempt to pursue blocked by Dementors who flooded down to protect the exiting figures. Several of the Aurors moved towards them, but were stopped by the shield.

"They're getting away!" shouted a gruff voice far to Harry's left. Harry turned to see the Minister, along with several Aurors all shouting, and desperately attempting to bring down the shield.

The Order members were still with their eyes on Riddle who was the only one capable of going after the Death Eaters, but he stood perfectly still, his eyes on the spot where Voldemort vanished from. Riddle blinked, took a breath, and then calmly walked over to the hooded figure whimpering on the ground. Harry held his own breath, wondering what he was going to do, the visions of Riddle shoving Draco nearly off a tower coming to mind. He wanted to move forward, but the shock of everything that happened held him in place, unable to make his legs move.

Riddle flicked his wand, and the Death Eater groaned. Riddle kneeled, his hand moving over the mask, and he removed it. A man with a rather lumpy face lay beneath, his eyes wide in fear, his face pale, with sweat dripping. Riddle tapped the mask with his wand, and held it out. The man, who looked suspiciously like Goyle, followed the movement with his eyes.

"You are going to St. Mungo's, or Azkaban. Your choice," Riddle said calmly.

The man's eyes narrowed slightly, and he reached out a hand. With a pop, he vanished, along with the mask. Riddle had made a portkey.

"You cannot make portkeys without permission," said the Minister weakly, but Riddle wasn't paying any attention to him, or the other voices yelling at him.

Instead, he walked to every fallen Death Eater, pulled their mask off so everyone could see who they were, and sent them to St. Mungo's. Harry recognized Malfoy amongst the group, his blonde hair, and pointed face giving him away. He wondered if Draco would be joining him. One by one, they all vanished, and the Minister seemed to tire himself out, falling quiet by the time Riddle completed his task.

When he finished, Riddle finally set his red gaze upon the gathered students, professors, order, and Ministry officials. With a gesture, the shield fell. Although everyone before were shouting to be let out, now that the shield was gone, and there was nothing between them, and Riddle, they paused.

"I suggest," Riddle began, his eyes on Scrimgeour. "You send your Aurors to St. Mungo's to retrieve the new arrives. Once they've been treated of course."

"I should have you arrested," The Minister said, but made no move to do so. The Aurors surrounding him were all frozen, some making frantic expressions at each other.

"Perhaps, but I fear St. Mungos would run out of beds," Riddle commented. Without waiting for the Minister to respond, "Minerva, Horace, Pomona, and Filius if you would be so kind as to take your students back into the castle. I will be returning to my office, should any of you need me."

No one moved to heed his orders, but Riddle marched forward as though nothing were amiss, and this was another day as Headmaster. Once he stepped onto the undamaged ground that was protected by the shield during the duel, Riddle's head turned, and his eyes landed on Harry.

"Harry," he said softly. "If you would please accompany me."

Harry felt hands tighten on him, and looked over to see Ron, and Hermione holding him. They must have been there for most of the duel, but Harry did not notice as he was too concentrated on the battle. Ron's freckles stuck out against his skin, and Hermione's lips were almost white. He looked over to Riddle, who waited patiently, then back to his friends.

Harry shrugged off their hold. They both looked like they wanted to grab him again, argue, but didn't. Harry walked towards Riddle, every pair of eyes on them as he did.

Riddle lifted an arm, then wrapped it around Harry's shoulder, tugging him close. Harry was too shocked and aware of all the eyes to pull away, though he wanted to. Up close he could see all the changes to Riddle's face, and his body. He had been normal built before, but now was lithe, and his long fingers resting on Harry's shoulder made him shudder. Luckily, Riddle was looking ahead, so his unsettling eyes were not directed at Harry.

Harry was led through the crowd, which slowly parted for them. McGonagall watched them pass with wide eyes, and her hand twitched towards them as though to grab Harry away, but she stilled herself. Moody had both of his eyes trained on them, his scarred face blank of expression. The worst was Lupin who stayed still, blocking the path, and Harry wanted desperately to tell him not to, but Tonks pulled Lupin aside. Lupin looked betrayed by her, but she nodded towards Harry, and he was grateful. There was little doubt in anyone's mind after watching the duel that Riddle could kill any of them if he desired.

Out the corner of his eye, he could see Neville being tugged by Luna Lovegood, her face serene. She gave a little wave towards Harry, and he felt the absurd urge to laugh.

The grounds were oddly quiet, just the sound of two sets of feet crunching through the grass, and the occasional breeze. No one dared follow them close enough to be heard, not even the Aurors or the Minister. Harry's steps became heavier as Riddle leaned more on him during their journey, but Harry did not complain. The oak doors swung open from a gesture from Riddle, and the dark corridor of the castle became lit as the torches ignited. Pops from the flames echoed as they entered together.

"Is anyone behind us?" Riddle whispered, causing Harry to flinch.

Harry twisted his head to spy the area behind them. "No."

"Good," Riddle said, and his weight came crashing onto Harry's body.