Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I'm having a six-week summer course in Australia right now, and I'm having trouble getting internet connection.

Again, thanks for my beta Irihi Safaia. Get well soon!

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Friend or Foe

Chapter 24: Loyalty

Voldemort put down the book he was reading as Nagini slithered into his room.

/Master, Alex is-/

/Don't call him by that name, Nagini,/ Voldemort hissed. Nagini recoiled at the anger in his voice and lowered her head in a bow. /What has Potter done this time?/

/He's been very quiet after returning from the library. He seems disturbed by the death of Sirius Black. It's been two days, Master, and he's barely even talked to me-/

/That's enough./ Voldemort raised his hand to stop Nagini. /You may go now./

Nagini was not satisfied. /But Master, he has-/

/I said that's enough, Nagini!/ Voldemort snapped. /You can spend your time with the boy, but I don't need to hear your report on him, understood?/

He could sense fear coming from his pet. /Yes, Master./ Nagini lowered her head again and fled the room.

He snarled. How dare Nagini remind him of the boy? How dare his pet line up with Potter against-

That was ridiculous. Potter had taken his Mark, yet he had been acting like anything but a Death Eater. The boy had defied him, questioned his orders and failed to even defend himself. He shouldn't have been allowed to live, let alone have been protected.

But Voldemort had saved him, again. This time from those Potter had once sided with. The decision had come naturally, and it was not just a miscalculated impulse. He could remember seeing the boy lying unconscious behind Dumbledore; he could remember how close the deadly green light, shot out from his own wand, had come to hitting the boy. He simply could not imagine himself leaving Potter behind to face those the boy had betrayed… for him.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. He had allowed this to go too far. He would protect Potter for now, but only because the boy still had his usefulness; Dumbledore's reaction in Diagon Alley had made that clear. He would wait until he got the prophecy, then he could decide the best way to deal with the boy, once and for all.

It would take time though, Severus was hard to break, and he could not be too forceful, or he would risk driving Severus insane and losing the prophecy that was no doubt in the spy's mind.

In the mean time, he couldn't just let Potter spend his time here idly. Every Death Eater whom had taken up residence in his manor had their own errands and duties, Potter should not be any exception. Besides, he didn't need Nagini's report to know Black's death was disturbing Potter; the boy's emotions had distracted him more than once in the past few days, and that needed to be stopped.

Voldemort's eyes fell onto the book he had abandoned on his desk and a possible solution came to him. Potter would be well protected that way. And at the same time the boy could still be of use to him.

Yes, that would work. Perhaps he could use Potter to his advantage after all.

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Harry was wandering alone near the edge of the forest surrounding Voldemort's manor. He knew it was not the safest place in the world, with the inferi and dementors lurking in the forest, but he needed to get out of the manor, away from the Death Eaters around the place that constantly reminded him that he was one of them, one of those who had killed Sirius.

He winced at the name. He had known the moment he had decided to join Voldemort that he would end up losing everyone he held dear. He had thought he had accepted that, but now… the thought of how much he had disappointed everyone and how utterly selfish his decision had been were crushing down on him, worsened by the death of a man he had neglected in his determination to get to a friend he wasn't even sure still existed or not.

In his musings, his feet had carried him further away from the manor. From his place, Harry could see the back of the manor.

The sun was already setting, and though he didn't like the idea of going back to the manor, Harry didn't fancy staying anywhere near the forest when the night came either.

He was about to make his way back when two Death Eaters came into view. Harry quickly ducked into the forest, hidden from sight by a tall tree. The Death Eaters didn't seem to have seen him. They walked past his hiding spot without stopping. In the middle of them floated an unconscious man who Harry couldn't recognize. The group disappeared from view into a part of the forest Harry had yet to reach.

With a moment hesitation, Harry cast a silencing spell on himself and followed. He kept a safe distance and he soon lost sight of the Death Eaters. But it didn't matter. Along the direction they had disappeared into was a clear path, one that suggested frequent usage.

Harry followed the path cautiously. Before long, he found himself staring at a pair of heavy iron doors. From the look of it, the doors seemed to be connected to some sort of underground tunnel. Nagini had never mentioned this place to him, though it seemed this area was known to the other Death Eaters.

Harry hid himself from view and waited quietly. About ten minutes later, the doors were pushed open and the pair of the earlier Death Eaters emerged from it. The unconscious man was not with them, giving Harry a dreadful suspicion of where these doors were leading to.

He knew he should turn back, but at the same time he was compelled to know what was happening behind these doors, especially if his suspicion was correct.

Squaring himself, Harry made sure his mask was still in place and moved out from his hiding place. He stopped before the doors and pushed it open, or tried to. The doors were loc-

Without warning, Harry could felt magic passing from the doors to his hand, his left hand, which was still connected to the cold metal surface. There was a brief burning sensation coming from his Dark Mark, though nothing similar to Voldemort's summons, and he could hear the doors click open.

Slightly taken back at what had happened, Harry hesitantly ventured forward. Before him was a long staircase leading underground, towards the general direction of the manor. He was now certain where he was heading to – The manor's dungeon, the place Nagini had told him to avoid. His former pet snake had been evasive about this place; she had even refused to tell Harry where the entrance was. Harry had dismissed that then, not wanting to upset his only companion and too busy dealing with all that had happened. And now, he suspected he already knew why Nagini had been so reluctant in showing him this part of Voldmort's lair.

Harry descended the stairs carefully. The place was dark; the only sources of light were the torches in buckets hanging along the stone walls. It didn't take long before he reached the bottom of the stairs. His throat went dry as the dungeon came into sight. A long corridor led out before him with lots of intersections along the way. The stone walls were lined with bared doors and Harry could hear faint screams echoing from the deeper part of the enclosed dungeons.

He shivered. So this place was indeed where Voldemort kept his prisoners.

The temperature seemed to be significantly lower down here. And this kind of coldness was one that Harry knew very well.

Dementors.

Fortunately for him, none was in sight. Harry knew he should probably leave before he could get into any trouble, or run into the dementors. But his feet carried him forward. How could he possibly leave when he knew what he would surely find behind those barred doors? He simply couldn't bring himself to turn back, knowing there were innocents down here, all with little hope of ever getting out alive… or even the hope of just having a quick and painless death.

His heart was racing as he passed cell after cell. He found himself gritting his teeth. What had these people done to deserve this?

He passed by a Death Eater on his way, but, being in Death Eater custom, Harry's presence was not even questioned.

It was not long before Harry was thoroughly sick of what he had seen. A part of him, a part that had been emerging ever since he had read of what had happened to Sirius, urged him to do something, anything to get these prisoners out of here. At the same time this thought emerged, though, Harry forced himself to calm down. There was no way he could break all these prisoners out of Voldemort's dungeon. He needed time to think of the best way to help them.

He forced himself to look away from the bony woman with hopeless eyes in one cell and turned into a corridor that should bring him back to the entrance. He passed by three successive empty cells, then he stopped short. He took in a sharp breathe, his eyes widened when he recognized who was in that cell.

"Mr. Weasley?" the words left Harry's mouth in a whisper.

The man in the cell sat limply against a wall. For a moment, he didn't appear to have heard Harry, but then he stirred and lifted his head slowly.

Harry felt a lump in his throat. The man looked nothing like the Mr. Weasley he remembered, though it was no mistake of his identity. Mr. Weasley was pale and very thin. He was clearly starved. Harry could also see some visible signs of torture. His robe was in rags, and he looked as if he had not moved from his sitting position for a long time. The once warm and humorous blue eyes of were replaced by a hollow and haunted look that Harry had seen too often lately.

"Death Eater…" said Mr. Weasley hoarsely. "Kill… kill me. Take all you… want. Don't hurt…"

Mr. Weasley continued to mumble under his breathe, as if he was caught up in his own world.

Harry swallowed and edged closer to the barred door tentatively. "Mr. Weasley?"

"Leave Molly alone. Don't…" He shook his head. "No, not them… just… kill me. Take me… don't…. they won't…"

Harry closed his eyes against churning pain in his chest. "Mr. Weasley," he said in an equally hoarse voice. Reaching up with shaking hand, Harry removed his mask and pulled back his hood, revealing his face. "It's me, Harry."

Mr. Weasley jerked at the name. "Harry?" He tried to push himself up. "Leave… before they… Run along... now… I'll wait for the others…"

Harry shook his head, clenching the bars of the cell with his hands so he was as close to Mr. Weasley as possible. "I'm safe, Mr. Weasley, everyone is safe. You must get out of here now." He gritted his teeth at his own statement. What should he do? He thought in anguish.

Before Harry could make any decision, a red beam shot out from the dark end of the corridor, flying straight at Harry and throwing him backward onto the ground. The next second, a wand was pointed at his throat.

Lucius Malfoy looked down at him with, smirking in triumphant. "Planning a little break out, aren't we, Potter? I've known you've been faking your loyalty since the very first day."

Harry managed to retort in his panic. "Are you saying the Dark Lord has made a mistake?"

Malfoy snarled. "We'll see what the Dark Lord has to say about this, Potter."

Before Harry knew what was happening, his world turned dark as Lucius Malfoy stunned him non-verbally.

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"Your presence is not required, Lucius," said Voldemort coldly. "You know what to do with Weasley, proceed as planned. Leave, now."

Lucius bowed, glancing at the stiffened Potter standing next to him and strode out of the room.

The doors closed behind Lucius and Voldemort turned to the only other occupant of the manor's main hall.

"Crucio!"

Potter fell to his knees, but didn't scream out. Voldemort ended the curse within a few minutes.

"I wasn't trying to break him out," said Potter in between panting.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "But you would have, had Lucius not found you." He strode forward and stopped before the boy, who was still kneeling. "And still would, if you manage to find a way to escape afterwards, isn't that right, Potter?" Potter looked ready to protest, but Voldemort went on. "Your thoughts cannot escape me. You should have known that very well."

Potter stared at the ground. "I haven't thought of what I would do," he said quietly. "I didn't expect to find Mr. Weasley… there." He shivered visibly.

Had Potter lied, Voldemot would have killed him right there. He had gone into great length to protect Potter; any thought of betrayal was not acceptable. Fortunately for Potter, Voldemort could detect no lie from him.

"Crucio!"

Potter did scream this time. It was a well deserved punishment, too light, even.

The thought of Potter secretly trying to aid Dumbledore's side enraged him far more than Severus' betrayal had.

"If I find out you've strayed out of place again, Potter," he said as he ended the curse, "I will personally torture you until you no longer know who you are, like those worthless worms in the dungeon."

Potter gritted his teeth. "How could you?" he said, his voice hoarse from the screaming. His narrowed eyes stared straight at Voldemort. "They have done nothing to deserve this!"

In the pair green eyes, Voldemort could see something he had not seen from the boy since… the Triwizard Tournament.

Anger. Directed at him.

Something stirred within him. Something he had not felt for a long time… guilt.

Voldemort clenched his fists and shoved away that feeling. How dare Potter make him feel this way? The boy was the one at fault.

"Leave!" he commanded as Potter struggled to get to his feet. "Get out of my sight!"

Potter left, wisely remaining silent.

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It was two days later that Voldemort summoned Potter again. Instead of summoning him to the main hall, where thy boy had been tortured just days ago, Voldemort had chosen to meet Potter right outside the manor.

Five minutes after the summons, Potter came into view. Voldemort turned around as he heard footsteps approaching him. Potter jogged towards him from the direction of the manor, his hand clenching his left forarm tightly. Voldemort was not surprised to see that Nagini had followed as well. His pet snake slithered to his side as Potter stopped a few steps before him.

Potter's face showed nothing, but Voldemort could tell that the individual summons made him nervous.

"Come," said Voldemort, gesturing Potter to follow.

Potter hesitated as Voldemort walked right into the forest, but he tailed behind him nonetheless.

"What-"

Voldmoert glanced back at Potter's startled shout. The boy was staring to his right; his hand had reached into his wand pocket.

"They are the inferi, Potter," said Voldemort. "They won't hurt you… as long as I don't give the command." He turned around to face the boy. "We are here to discuss your… position within my ranks today, Potter. Since you are so reluctant to kill," He ignored the visible flinch of the boy, "you will aid my army in another way."

Potter grew wary at that.

"The inferi are not like any creatures." He gestured at the inferi surrounding them. "They are corpuses infused with magic. They have no life and they can only be made to follow the simplest commands. But they are immune to most magic and that make them a powerful force, especially in large groups."

Potter grimaced, obviously remembering how effective his army of inferi had been in Diagon Alley.

"From now on, you will be responsible to command them in any attacks I send you to."

Potter looked taken back. "What?"

"If you can't even do that, then you are worthless to me," said Voldemort coldly. "Or are you already planning to run back to the old fool, Potter?"

Potter bit his lips and shook his head. He paused for a moment before speaking. "But how can I do that? Those… inferi only answer to you."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at the boy's disrespect. Potter lowered his head, but offered no apology.

Voldemort chose to overlook that this time. "You are connected to the inferi, Potter, through me." He glanced at the scar on Potter's forehead. "Your scar should give you the ability to command the inferi that are bonded to my magic."

Potter looked around at the inferi, still looking shocked and uncertain.

"The spell to command them works similar to the imperious curse, which I hope you are competent enough to cast." At Potter' numb nod, he went on. "The manor's library should have all the information you need. You will be going on raids in two weeks time, and I expect to see results then. Am I understood, Potter?"

Potter nodded again wordlessly.

Voldemort stared at the boy coldly for a while before turning around to leave.

"Wait."

Voldemort whirled around, narrowing his eyes in impatience.

Potter was staring at the ground. "I…" He looked up tentatively. "Did you… did you order Sirius to be…"

He trailed off, but somehow Voldemort already knew what he was asking.

"No," he said. "I didn't order your godfather's death, Potter." He eyed the boy, who seemed to be greatly relived by that.

And what if he had given that order? To Voldemort's surprise and disgust, he found that Potter was not the only one who was relieved. Nonetheless, this needed amendment.

"Black was a member of the Order, Potter," he said, "and as such, an enemy. Any of Dumbledore's dogs should not be allowed to live, regardless of whether there's an order or not."

A flash of anger crossed Potter's eyes.

"Of course," he said tightly.

The contempt in the boy's tone stirred up Voldemort's anger. What had happened yesterday would not happen again. He would not tolerate this impudence.

"Crucio!"

The inferi closed in at Potter's scream, but Voldemort ignored them. At Nagini's third plead for him to stop, Voldemort finally ended the curse.

He grabbed the boy by the collar and yanked him to his feet, paying little attention to the blood staining his hand. He held his wand with his other hand and held it against Potter's throat.

"I will destroy you if you betray me, Harry Potter," he said coldly. "If you value your pathetic life, I would advise you not to give me any reason to even suspect your disloyalty, or you will not like the consequences."

He released the boy and, not sparing Potter a single glance, left the room for his private quarters.

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Draco kept his face blank as he entered the Great Hall for lunch. He sat down beside the rest of his house's Quidditch team and ate in silence. Tomorrow was the Ravenclaw - Slytherin match, and Draco would bet a hundred galleons that the match would end up in a bloody mess. Even though Dumbledore and most of the staff were acting as if nothing was wrong, everyone could feel the tension among the students.

It was after a long debate that the school had decided not to cancel the rest of the Quidditch matches of the term. Dumbledore seemed to think Quiddich could at least keep the students' mind off the war, as well as alleviate some of the tension in the school. Draco had to once again question the old man's sanity if he really believed Quidditch matches could somehow bring the four houses back together.

It had been three weeks since the attack in Diagon Alley, and already three more Slytherins had received the Mark. He looked up at the staff table and rested his eyes on the empty seat of Severus. Dumbledore had yet to find someone to fill in the position of the head of Slytherin and Potions Master, whether it was because no one would want that job or because Dumbledore believed Severus would be back. Several of the younger students still had hope that their head of house was coming back, but Draco knew better.

He knew time was running out. The search for his godfather was hardly making any progress. The longer he delayed, the slimmer the chance of Severus still being alive.

Dumbledore had said Severus was most likely being held in the Dark Lord's manor. Draco had been there before once; his father had brought him there soon after he had been Marked. The Dark Lord would sometimes meet with his inner circle there, for individual meetings. The manor was in the middle of nowhere; Draco wasn't sure if it was even in this country. The Dark Lord had protected it so well that it was impossible to apparate to it without an actual summoning. And of course, there were still the dark creatures that surrounded the place if one did manage to sneak in.

It was becoming clearer to Draco as time passed that there was little chance for his godfather to survive. Even if he did manage to locate him, what then? Even if Dumbledore was willing to go to such great length to retrieve his now-uncovered spy, it was not as if the old man's troops could storm the Dark Lord's place.

No one could escape the Dark Lord. Draco had learned this far too well.

He shivered at his own thought. The memory of the night Severus had been tortured came back to him. He remembered himself locking up his own emotions. His indifferent mask had slipped on almost effortlessly, and he had tortured his own godfather just like a heartless monster, just like… his father.

Having lost what little appetite he'd had, Draco left as soon as his team had finished discussing strategy for tomorrow's match.

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Draco's time alone didn't last long though. He was nearing the library when he heard footsteps behind him.

"Malfoy!"

Draco turned around and sneered, recognizing the voice immediately.

"Weasley." And of course Weasley would not be alone. "Granger."

Weasley stepped forward. "We want to ask you something, Malfoy."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "That's hardly the tone one uses to ask someone a favor," he said. "But I suppose I can hardly expect a Weasley to know that."

Weasley turned red predictably. He was about to retort but Granger held him back.

"We want to ask you about Harry," she said slowly, looking as unwilling as Weasley.

And she should be, Draco was amazed that she was even able to utter those words. He glanced from Granger to Weasley. Of course they would be asking about Harry. Dumbledore had been keeping things as tight as possible; it was not a surprise that they hadn't managed to find out anything. But asking him of all people? The two must be really desperate.

"And what makes you think I know anything-"

"We've heard that many times," Granger cut him off. "Can you… can you just tell us what you know?"

Draco smirked. "What? Aren't you supposed to be his best friends?"

Weasley gritted his teeth and reached for his wand. "You-"

Granger grabbed his arm just in time, to Draco's disappointment. "It's not worth the trouble," said Granger, glaring at Draco. "Come on, it's not like he'd know more than we do." She turned around and left, dragging Weasley with her.

Draco watched the two's retreating back and rolled his eyes. "Hasn't Dumbledore said he's not in danger?" he drawled. The two Gryffindors turned back, but Draco went on before they had the chance to speak. "For once, believe what you're told and stop poking your nose around, or you might find yourself digging up something you don't want to know."

"What do you mean, Malfoy?"

Draco ignored Weasley and turned into the library. He doubted the two Gryffindors would actually listen to his warning, but he could care less about them. The truth would be out soon enough, whether they wanted it or not.

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The next two weeks passed in chaos. And without anyone really realizing it, Easter had arrived. Less than one fourth of the students were remaining at school for the holidays this year, much less than usual. Many parents had requested their children to come home due to the raging war. That was understandable, but the real question remained – how many of them were coming back after the holidays?

With the Ministry's inability to resume order, there had been frequent attacks on both the wizarding and the muggle worlds. And after that spectacular defeat in Diagon Alley, the Ministry and Dumbledore were both having a hard time regaining the people's trust. At the same time, the Dark Lord's minions had gained momentum from their victory in Diagon Alley and they were all eager to prove their worth to the Dark Lord.

Draco shook his head in disgust at his father's submissive behavior. He knew his father would do anything just to maintain his place as the Dark Lord's right hand man. His father had given that monster a lot of the Ministry's classified information; he had even led several raids himself.

After all that had happened, Draco could no longer feel hurt by his father's actions. He had become totally disappointed with his father. Now all he wanted was to prevent himself from becoming what his father had become.

It was with that in mind that Draco had come back home for Easter. On the third day of the holidays, his father had suddenly announced that they were going to the Dark Lord's manor. For once, Draco didn't need to fake his delight at the opportunity.

"We are leaving in ten minutes, son."

Being with his father would make things difficult, but Draco was not about to pass up his best chance to search for Severus. He worked to strengthen his Occlumency shield as he met his father outside of the Malfoy's manor.

"Are we having a meeting with the Dark Lord, father?" asked Draco, adding in a hint of eagerness in his tone.

His father smirked. "We are retrieving a gift from the Dark Lord there."

From the sadistic look on his father's face, Draco knew, for once, it was a gift that he would rather not have.

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Remus sat in silent, paying little attention to the rows of wizards and witches sitting around him. His cold gaze set firmly on the man sitting in the middle of the room - Peter Pettigrew.

Peter was chained to a chair with two aurors standing behind him. If the little rat dared transform, it would be instant execution.

"All in favor of a lifetime imprisonment in Az-"

"No!" Peter squeaked, looking around the room with wide eyes. "I… I have information! I can give you names!"

"Fool," Moody's rough voice came from behind Remus. "They won't let him get out of this one, no matter how many names he manages to give."

"Names, you say?" A member of the Wizengamot said coldly. "Let's hear it."

"W-Walden Macnair."

"He's dead. Killed in Diagon Alley."

Peter's eyes darted around, looking more nervous by minutes. Remus averted his eyes in disgust.

"Draco Malfoy. He's in the inner circle."

"There will be no more accusing of the Malfoys. Lucius Malfoy is a respected member of the Ministry and he's cleared of all charges years ago."

"And does that say anything about his son?" Moody commented.

Albus, who was sitting next to Remus, gave Moody a warning look and the ex-auror fell silent. Remus turned his focus back to the trial.

"If you have nothing more to say, Pettigrew, we'll now pass on the verdict."

"Wait!" Peter looked truly panicked by now. "I… I have one more."

"That's your last chance."

Peter glanced around the room, his eyes met Remus' hard gaze for a brief moment before focusing back on the Wizengamot.

"H… Harry Potter."

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A/N: Here's your Harry-Voldemort interaction. Like it? Hate it? You can see Harry's doubt in this chapter. Voldemort's isn't making it any better either.

Why inferi? Well, Voldemort knew Harry would never kill willingly, but at the same time he couldn't convince himself to keep a useless Death Eater around, so he had to have Harry did something. Voldemort chose to have Harry command the inferi in the end partly because it could make Harry as deadly as any other Death Eaters (thus gave Voldemort his 'reason' to keep Harry around) and it could also keep Harry safe from whatever raid he would be going (Voldemort has basically assigned an army to protect him). It's the best plan for Voldemort, but he's going to regret it.

The next chapter will most probably be after the release of book seven, since, as I said, I'm in summer school right now and don't have much opportunity to write.