Disclaimer: yes, this still isn't mine.

AN1: Wow! It made me so happy to read all the lovely comments left on my last chapter - really, it made my week. I haven't said this in a while, but I want to thank everyone who gives me feedback on my story. It means a lot to me to hear that people are reading and enjoying what I post. I hope I can continue to write entertaining material for all of you.

AN2: I thought I'd address this, because a couple of people mentioned it in reviews - Harry does not have 'over half' of Voldemort's soul. There are a few reasons for this, one being that I don't think that it's ever said explicitly in canon that making a horcrux splits the soul exactly in half (please correct me if I'm wrong), and I don't think it makes sense that there's far less of Voldemort's soul in Voldemort himself than in, say, the ring. The second reason is that I'm not sure it makes sense from a philosophical perspective. I guess it depends on how you choose to interpret the concept of a soul. I'm probably going to need to go into this more later because of (spoilers), so I won't say more than that right now; suffice it to say, in my AU, creating a horcrux splits off a fragment of a soul, but 'ownership' belongs to the master soul, the one doing the splitting, who is, arguably, the largest piece, and will remain the largest piece until ownership is somehow transfered. You might be able to see where I'm going with this...

Anyway, the way in which the extra soul bits affect Harry won't really be clear until chapter 39-41 ish, but rest assured, there will be significant changes.

Chapter 37: The Malfoys

It was a strange combination of soft and coarse – cotton? It was wet, and it felt so, so good on his feverish skin. That's when he realized that it was water, a thin layer of cold water dabbed clumsily onto his face.

He opened his eyes to find Draco Malfoy leaning over him with a wet piece of stained white cloth in his hand. His eyes travelled to the boy's uniform, from which a piece had been torn off.

"Are you...washing my face with your shirt?" Harry asked confusedly.

Malfoy blushed. "You were covered in ink – you looked so dreadful I couldn't stand it anymore," he snapped.

Harry chuckled and sat up, doing his best to ignore the pounding in his head. "Ink?"

Malfoy nodded, grimacing. "Black ink, all over your arms and face."

Harry nodded slowly, feeling quite puzzled. Ink? Black ink? Unbidden, images flashed in front of his eyes – of flashing lights, black blood - not ink, blood - and the gruesome crumbling of skin, a face melting before him - and then they just...slipped away, leaving an eerie, empty calm in their wake. He shivered. "How...long have I been out?"

Malfoy raised an eybrow. "Not sure. It's not like there's a way to tell time down here. A really long time, I guess."

"Oh..." he said, feeling a bit stupid.

Neither of them said anything for a few moments, their soft breaths echoing off the walls of the chamber, reverberating as they collided with stone and water.

Harry couldn't help but frown as he tried very hard to remember what happened. He went down to the Chamber of Secrets, duelled Tom Riddle, and then he let Tom take over, and then...he didn't know. His mind was a murky mess, and he could barely concentrate enough to form coherent sentences. Every thought he had just seemed to...melt away, whenever he got too close. The headache wasn't helping.

"Thank you," Malfoy blurted out suddenly.

Harry blinked. "For what?"

"For...you followed me down here, and I just...I've just got this feeling that I wouldn't be alive if you hadn't."

Harry nodded. That was true.

"May I ask...what happened?"

Harry looked at him for a long moment, surprised to hear Malfoy sounding so...contrite. Well, contrite for him, anyway.

"You were possessed by that." He pointed to the diary, which was lying limply in a puddle on the Chamber floor a few feet away. "When I found out you went missing, I...yes, I came looking for you here...in the Chamber of Secrets."

"And...Tom Riddle?"

Hearing the name, Harry's mind sharpened, and he looked at his companion with narrowed eyes. "Did he tell you? Who he was?"

Malfoy let out a shuddering breath. "Just before I lost consciousness...he said to me, 'L-lord -" he winced "-V-Voldemort thanks you for your service, Draco Malfoy'."

Harry nodded, internally cursing Tom. Now he had much more to explain. "He's gone now, he can't ever hurt you again."

Malfoy's eyes went wide. "You...you got rid of him? ...again...?"

"It's...a long story..."

"I'm listening," Malfoy said, making it sound like an order. Harry supposed he probably couldn't help it.

Harry shook his head, trying to convey regret. "Listen, Malfoy..."

"Draco."

Harry stared at the hand Malfoy was holding out between them.

"You...saved my life, even after everything...I understand if you don't want it...but I want to offer you an apology...for...well, everything. For trying to hex you all those times, for ignoring you, for...calling Granger a mudblood, for nearly letting everyone know you're a parselmouth, for not giving you the diary...for everything." The words sounded a little...stilted and pained, but they were sincere.

Harry's eyes were wide. Malfoy was...apologizing? Sure, he had expected a thank you, but never had he considered he'd receive such a thorough apology from the arrogant boy. He hesitated only for a moment before he decidedly grasped Malfoy's – Draco's – hand. "Of course. I forgive you."

Draco nodded curtly. "Good...I owe you my life, so I figured the least I could do is...apologize."

Harry smiled weakly.

"So...the Dark Lord...what happened to him?" Draco asked cautiously, clearly still somewhat shaken by the memory of Tom Riddle standing over his dying body.

"He's gone, Draco, don't worry. You're free."

Draco heaved a sigh of relief. "But how...?"

"I'd tell you...but there are people who can't know about this, Draco. In fact, people can't even know we were here at all - I don't want other people wandering around down here..."

"I wouldn't tell anyone!" Draco said quickly, indignantly.

"I...know." He really didn't, but there was no point in arguing. "But still," he said, "I'm going to need you to sign this." He fished his quill, ink, and diary out of his pocket, and nearly sighed in relief when he found Tom's wand hidden away deep inside.

"You keep a quill in your pocket?" Draco asked incredulously.

"And my diary. Never know when I might need to take notes."

"Nerd," he heard Draco huff under his breath.

"Draco," he said sternly.

"Yeah, yeah, I know - sign the oath; same deal as before, right?"

"Not quite. It prevents you from finding the Chamber again."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Right, because I'd actually want to come down here again. I'm not suicidal."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just sign it," he said with a sigh, shoving the book and quill into Draco's hand.

After he found out that Ginny Weasley had lost the diary, he took it upon himself to construct a very specific contract, just in case things went terribly awry - which they had. The oath guaranteed that whoever (didn't matter who) found the Chamber of Secrets would not be able to return to it or relay its location to anyone. He had hoped to tie in a clause about not being able to talk about what happened in it either, but even just this took him over 6 hours to outline and write, and when he finally got around to actually casting the spell, he was left dizzy and overwhelmed.

"Now will you tell me what happened?" Draco asked impatiently as he handed the diary and quill back to Harry, who pocketed them.

"The oath won't prevent you from relaying any information I share with you. I could use the spell I used on you, Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle back in December, but I need my blood quill for that, and I obviously don't walk around school with a dark artifact in my pocket."

Draco huffed. "I said I won't tell anyone."

"Yes, but even if I believe you, you might not have to."

"Might not have to what?"

"Might not have to tell someone."

Draco frowned. "What d'you mean?"

"I mean...do you know what legilimency is?"

Draco sniffed. "Of course I do."

"Well, Professor Dumbledore is a legilimens, and so is Professor Snape."

Draco gaped at him. "Seriously?"

Harry nodded. "So, anything I tell you, they might be able to pick out of your head. Unless you claim to be an accomplished occlumens," Harry added on skeptically.

Draco scowled.

"I thought so. So you see, I really can't say anything, for both our sakes."

Draco nodded slowly. "No, that's...ok...I guess..." he said begrudgingly.

"But to be safe...don't look anyone in the eye when we get back. Better safe than sorry."

Draco nodded again, looking a bit confused.

"Which reminds me...we need to decide what to tell people."

"Tell people?"

"Well yes, people will wonder where we were, and we can't tell them we were here – as I said, I don't want people snooping around down here." He paused. "It is my Chamber after all," he said imperiously.

"Right, of course. How did you even find this place anyways?"

"I can't risk anyone picking that out of your head, either."

Draco huffed. "Fine."

Rising to his knees, Harry crawled over and picked up the diary, frowning. It certainly didn't feel like a horcrux, or anything remotely magical at all, but better safe than sorry. So removing his quill from his pocket, along with his ink, he dipped his quill in the inkwell and wrote in the diary, 'Tom?'

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure it's empty."

'If you don't answer, I'm going to destroy this. Don't think I don't know how...' he bluffed. Tom actually had never trusted him with the knowledge of how to destroy horcruxes.

No answer. Apparently Tom had succeeded at...well, whatever he had been trying to do.

"Well?"

Harry blotted out his messages and put his quill away. He hesitated before putting away his inkwell, though. Suddenly struck by an idea, he dumped the ink all over the diary, drenching the pages in black. That would explain why he was covered in ink. "It's empty."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, Harry knew it was too soon to be relieved. He couldn't return empty-handed - he needed some explanation for the attacks. He could claim it was some sort of spirit possessing students and leading them into the Chamber, but then he'd have to explain how he exorcised it, which he didn't know how to do. He would also have to explain how he figured it out...

He pursed his lips. No, it was better to stick closer to the truth. He would use the diary as a scapegoat - he knew just the spell. Harry didn't claim to have much knowledge on the subject, but he knew that not much could destroy a horcrux. Creating them was a complicated process that involved binding a soul to an object, and the only way to get rid of it would be to utterly and completely destroy the object - to completely break down the matter itself, chemically or magically. So if Harry cast a spell that would explain how he divested it of its powers - something powerful enough to cleanse a dark artifact but weak enough that it would never be able to destroy a horcrux - he could provide a plausible explanation without leaving the possibility of someone discovering it was a horcrux in the first place.

Shakily, Harry rose to his feet and walked over to his wand, picking it up.

"Anathema purgo."

His heard skipped a beat, and for a moment he doubled over in pain, as a bright light enveloped the diary. Stumbling, he fell to his knees as something pulled desperately at his magic, causing him to cry out in surprise. He thought that the spell wouldn't have much of an effect on him, seeing as the diary was empty - apparently he was wrong.

"What was that?" Draco asked, alarmed.

"An purification curse," Harry said absently, straightening himself with a deep breath.

"A what?"

"It casts pure dark magic so potent that it 'overwrites' most curses placed on a dark artifact."

"Where did you learn a spell like that?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "The restricted section."

Draco's eyes bugged out. "The restricted section?"

"Mhm."

"Can you teach me!?"

Harry sighed. "I can't go around teaching you dark magic if you can't keep people out of your head."

Draco looked thoughtful at that. "So if I learned occlumency..."

Harry paused. "Maybe."

Draco's eyes glinted, but then he frowned. "I thought you said the diary was empty."

"It is, but I want to be able to explain what happened, and I need an alibi if someone decides to check my wand for the last spell cast."

"And you still can't tell me how you really got rid of...the Dark Lord."

"Afraid not."

Draco pouted a little. "So what? We say you cast that curse, and then the Dark Lord was defeated?"

Harry shook his head. "We say that Lord Voldemort cursed the diary, and I erased the curse."

"...isn't that what I just said?" Draco sounded a bit irritated.

"No, what you said makes it seem like Lord Voldemort was really here."

"Wasn't he?"

"...no."

Draco gave him a look that clearly said didn't believe him.

"Not really," he ammended.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine, but they'll still ask where you found me, and you'll have to tell them."

Harry frowned. "Yes, that is a problem. But...there must be another entrance somewhere, something that leads outside."

"How do you know that?"

"Think about it, the monster has to eat somehow."

"...oh, right."

Harry nodded. "We just need to find the other exit."

"And...how do we do that?"

Harry put his finger in his mouth and then lifted it up. A moment later, he announced, "That way," pointing down one of the tunnels.

"How d'you know that?"

"There's a draft," Harry said by way of explanation. Of course, there were many possible causes for a draft...but considering that he was alive and in one piece, Harry was feeling like, for the first time in a while, he had luck on his side.

It took them at least a half hour – probably closer to an hour, actually – to traverse the long, dark, dank tunnel. Eventually though, they did reach an opening, through which they were met by the bright noon sun shining through, attacking their eyes mercilessly. However, they hit an invisible wall when they tried to leave.

"Bloody hell!" Draco exclaimed when he was thrown backwards.

Harry frowned. Some sort of force field? There had to be a way to get past, though; the basilisk had to get outside somehow.

:Open?:

He reached forward, and sure enough, his hand went through. "Come on, it just needed a password."

Draco raised an eyebrow, dusting himself off and trying to regain some of his dignity. "What was it?"

"Open."

"Open?" Draco repeated incredulously.

"Open," Harry confirmed.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but it ended up falling open in shock. "Where did it go?"

Harry turned around and blinked, frowning slightly; the hole they had emerged from had disappeared entirely, leaving an unassuming mound of grass behind.

"Huh. I wonder...is it like the Room of Requirement?" Harry asked himself thoughtfully.

"Room of Requirement? What's the Room of Requirement?"

Harry hesitated. "Learn occlumency, and maybe I'll show you."

Draco looked a bit put off, but nodded determinedly.

"Anyway, we should get going. It's going to be a long walk."

Draco groaned.

When they arrived at Professor Snape's office, they were met by four very worried faces – Dumbledore's, Professor Snape's, and Draco's parents'. Well, to be fair, Professor Snape looked more angry and exhausted than worried. Actually, it was really hard to imagine an expression anywhere close to worry on Professor Snape's usually stern, hard face.

When they entered after knocking a few times, all four adults gaped at them for a solid five seconds. They must have made quite the sight, standing there covered in water, ink, and mud, Harry's glasses cracked.

Professor Snape was the first to snap out of his shock. "Where have you been?" he hissed.

Harry and Draco looked at each other.

"The Forbidden Forest," Draco said shakily and shamefully, eyes falling to the floor. Harry had to admire his new friend's acting skills.

Immediately as he opened his mouth, his mother ran forward and threw her arms around him.

Harry stepped back, a little alarmed by the woman's behaviour.

"And why, pray tell, were you there?" Professor Snape sounded incredibly irate, pointedly ignoring Mrs. Malfoy's tearful embracing of her son, who she was now showering with kisses.

Harry held up the diary, which he'd purposefully rubbed all over with dirt, for added effect, and watched with concealed glee as Mr. Malfoy paled drastically. "It was this diary – it was possessing Draco."

"Oh, my poor, sweet Draco."

Draco grimaced, but didn't look surprised. Was this normal behaviour for a mother?

Meanwhile, Dumbledore stepped forward. "May I, Harry?"

He dared not hesitate when he handed the diary over. "Of course, sir."

Professor Dumbledore's usually serene face was pressed into a concerned frown as he looked over the unassuming object.

"It belonged to someone named T.M. Riddle. I think he might have cursed it...and I think it's what's been opening the Chamber of Secrets."

Professor Dumbledore paled a few shades at the name Riddle.

Professor Snape looked like he was about to yell at him, but the Headmaster held up a hand. "Perhaps you had better explain from the beginning, Harry," the elderly man said softly.

Harry nodded and steeled himself. "Draco had been acting strangely, lately...looking pale and nervous, disappearing sometimes, and I'd noticed...he'd been writing in a diary, which wasn't something he used to do. And then...was it yesterday? He had mentioned that he had to go somewhere, and he told me to make sure no one followed him...I asked him where he was going, and he said 'the forest.' He had the diary with him. I let him go, but then Professor Snape came to the Common Room, and had the prefects call roll, and I had this terrible feeling that something had gone wrong...so I fetched my invisibility cloak, and went to the Forbidden Forest."

The Headmaster nodded encouragingly.

"When I found him, I called out to him, but he didn't respond at first, so I ran after him...as soon as I got close, though, I knew something wasn't right – he wasn't acting like himself. He kept saying he had to 'find the entrance'. I told him to come back to the Common Room with me, but then he spun around and tried to curse me. I managed to disarm him, and then stun him, and then...I really didn't know what else to do, so I used this spell I found the other day to break the curse on the diary. It knocked me unconscious for a while...I only woke up a couple of hours ago."

Everyone was staring at him in shock, except Draco, who knew the rehearsed story by heart at this point.

Professor Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "And what spell, Harry, managed to do that?"

Harry made a big show of hesitating, and looking at his feet shamefully. "Umm...Anathema Purgo."

Most of the people in the room looked puzzled, except Dumbledore, who was staring at him grimly.

"And where would you have found a spell like Anathema Purgo, Harry?"

"Um...the library?"

The elderly professor quirked an eyebrow. "That is rare dark magic, Harry, very rare indeed – and not only rare, but dangerous as well. It requires a great deal of magic to cast, and witches and wizards who have used it have been known to...meet unfortunate ends. You are lucky to be alive."

"Um, yes, well..."

"And it should also be noted that the only place you would find a book containing such magic is the Restricted Section, which you have not acquired any passes to."

Harry looked at him sheepishly. "I...know. I'm sorry. I...was curious, is all. There are so many interesting books there...and it was for the best, wasn't it?"

"This time, Harry, this time..."

The Headmaster sounded resigned; meanwhile, Professor Snape looked furious.

"But do not be deceived, Potter," he said venomously, "Despite the heroism -" he spat the word "- of your disregard for the rules, you will be in detention until the end of term."

Harry hung his head, truly upset now. "Yes sir."

"Come, Severus." It was Mrs. Malfoy speaking, looking at Professor Snape sternly. "Look at the poor boy – hasn't he been punished enough?"

Professor Snape looked even more furious. "Now see here, Narcissa, Potter's disregard -"

"No, you see here, Severus," the woman snapped, spinning around to face him, straightening. For a slender woman, she was really quite imposing. "This boy risked his life to save my son – I don't care if he cast the killing curse to do it. He will not be punished."

Harry and Draco gaped at her, and Professor Snape looked like he had just swallowed something very bitter.

"Now, now, Mrs. Malfoy," Professor Dumbledore said consolingly, "Harry will not be punished -" here, he looked pointedly at Harry "- this time."

The woman nodded curtly.

"Now, I'm sure that you will be wanting to take your son home with you."

Mr. Malfoy nodded stiffly, still looking very uneasy. "That's correct."

"Sir," Harry said cautiously, "May I be excused as well?"

The old man nodded. "Yes, Harry – why don't you go see Madame Pomfrey; she will want to check you over for injuries. You may return to your dormitory after you have seen her."

He nodded. "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. Professor Snape."

He was about to leave when Mrs. Malfoy made her opinion known once again.

"Surely the boy should be allowed to spend some time with his family," she said, looking at the old man indignantly, casting a worried glance over at Harry.

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to return home for a couple of days Harry?" the old man asked in a voice that suggested that he had a good guess what the answer might be.

Harry shook his head. "I am home."

The Headmaster smiled sadly.

Mrs. Malfoy opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Harry clarified. "Hogwarts is my home. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

The woman wasn't appeased by that, though; she turned back to Professor Dumbledore. "Then he'll return to the manor with us," she said decisively.

Harry gaped at her, and the Headmaster raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh?"

"Mr. Potter nearly died saving my son, and you want to shoo him off to his dormitory?" the woman asked incredulously, "I cannot let that stand. If he will not return to his family, I must insist that he remains a guest at Malfoy Manor until he and Draco have recovered."

Mr. Malfoy looked like he wanted to argue, and Professor Snape looked disgusted by the woman's kindness, while Professor Dumbledore looked like Christmas has come early. Harry just continued to gape.

"Well," Professor Dumbledore said cheerily, sounding delighted, "If Harry wishes to take you up on your hospitality, Mrs. Malfoy, I certainly have no qualms with it."

Everyone in the room was now looking at him – again – and suddenly his brain lurched to a halt. He and Mal-Draco had become friends all of an hour ago, maybe two now, and now his mother was inviting him over to their Manor, to stay over until he 'recovered' (from what, he didn't know). He knew that this was not entirely uncommon – Dudley had spent the night with a couple of his friends, over the years, and he often overheard girls talking about something they called slumber parties – but he had never actually expected to have this opportunity presented to him, of all people, by Draco's mother, no less.

"I...um...well..."

Well, it would be rude to say no, wouldn't it? That's how these things went, right? It would be rude to say no.

"I-if it's no trouble..."

"Excellent," Mrs. Malfoy said briskly, brushing past everyone toward the fireplace. "Severus, your floo powder?"

Still looking very sour, Professor Snape removed a small box from the mantle and opened the lid.

"Come, Draco, Mr. Potter, we're leaving."

The two boys immediately obeyed, and Draco took a handful of the powder, scattering it into the fireplace before stepping in and calling out, "Malfoy Manor!"

A green fire stirred in the hearth, and a moment later, Draco was gone.

Mrs. Malfoy now looked at him expectantly, and he timidly took a handful of the powder. He hesitated. "What's the probability that I get lost?" he said uneasily.

Professor Snape just sneered at him, but Mrs. Malfoy looked at him encouragingly and said, "Just speak clearly."

Grimacing, he scattered the powder in the fireplace and stepped in, carefully enunciating, "Malfoy Manor."

A moment later, he was being tugged away, sucked down giant drain in a whirl of green flame. The sensation of being flushed through a dry wind tunnel lasted far too long, and yet not long enough – because as soon as the sensation abandoned him, he was unceremoniously dropped into the Malfoy's hearth, where he tumbled out and landed on his face.

Draco was laughing at him. "Haha – Harry – ha – you'd think you'd never travelled by floo before!"

Harry stumbled to his feet, feeling somewhat disgruntled. "I haven't."

Draco gaped at him. "You haven't?"

"No."

"How do you get around?" the other boy asked, puzzled.

"Knight Bus, mostly."

"The what?"

At that moment, the fireplace roared again, and Mrs. Malfoy stepped out, elegant and composed, and Harry couldn't help but feel very jealous of her poise. Half a beat later, Mr. Malfoy stepped out as well, still looking a bit ashen in the face.

"Tiffy!" Mrs. Malfoy called out immediately, not even batting an eye at Harry's bedraggled appearance (well, even more bedraggled than before, that is), and a small elf popped into existence between them.

"Yes Mistress!"

"Show our guest, Mr. Potter, to the first guest room, and have some of Draco's clothes readied for him - a set of pyjamas, and some casual wear."

"Yes Mistress!" The excitable elf turned to Harry with a big smile. "Come with me, Master Potter!"

Harry nodded dazedly, still somewhat frazzled by his mini-adventure with the floo network, and made to follow the elf, but Mrs. Malfoy stopped him, a soft smile on her face.

"Sleep for a few hours – you'll feel better. I'll send for you when dinner has been prepared," she said kindly.

Harry froze, awareness snapping into place as he was chilled to the bone by her kind words. The woman was tall, imposing, and frighteningly elegant – and yet, there was softness in her black eyes, a kindness in her regal voice as she spoke. When she looked at him...he felt safe. He felt like everything was going to be fine. Is this what it's like, he had to wonder, to have a mother?

Stirring from his silent shock, he smiled back at Mrs. Malfoy.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."

He was smiling to himself as he let Tiffy lead him out of the room with the fireplace. Immediately, it opened up into a cavernous entrance hall, the floor patterned with black and white marble. The floor, the doorways, the pillars, the stairs – they all shone, as if newly polished, glistening slightly under the gold and crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"This way, Master Potter!"

Harry's wide eyes blinked and he followed Tiffy up the large staircase that rose from the end of the hall, opposite to the dark oak doors behind him, which branched out to the left and right after the thirteenth step. Tiffy led him up the stairwell to his right, and soon they were in a long hallway, tastefully decorated by the odd painting here and there, all of which were staring bemusedly at Harry, who did his best to ignore the suspicious stares – a skill that was quite well honed, at this point.

Eventually, they reached a large white door near the end of the hallway, which clicked open when Tiffy snapped her fingers.

Inside the room was a large bed, lavishly decorated with a fluffy blue duvet and far more pillows than anyone could possibly need. A modest-sized wardrobe sat in the corner, and a table and a mirror stood across from the bed, a velvet-upholstered chair in front of them. In the corner was another doorway, cracked open only slightly; Harry could see a bathroom inside.

Tiffy looked up at him with a bright smile. "If Master Potter -"

"You can call me Harry," Harry put in.

Tiffy's already massive smile grew. "If Master Harry will be waiting a moment, Tiffy will fetch some pyjamas for Master Harry!"

Harry nodded, and the elf popped away.

He sighed and looked down at what was once his Hogwarts uniform. His shirt was rumpled and torn up, stained all over with black ink and dried blood, his woolen vest in a similar state. His robes suffered the same maladies as his shirt and jumper, with the added ornamentation of mud caking the edges. His pants had rips in them and were also stained all over in black, and his tie had clearly been caught by one of Tom's curses.

He sighed again, and started by peeling off his soaking wet shoes, then sliding his muddy outer robe off his shoulders.

Tiffy then reappeared, with some neatly folded pyjamas in her hand, which she placed at the foot of the bed.

"Tiffy will come back to collect Master Harry's clothing once he's showered and asleep!" Tiffy exclaimed happily, clearly not at all phased by Harry's appearance, and Harry smiled weakly back at her.

"Thank you, Tiffy."

Tiffy's eyes widened drastically, and her mouth hung open for a moment, but only for a moment.

"Master Harry...th-thanks Tiffy..."

Harry cringed, not wanting another 'Dobby incident'. "Yes, um...you can go now."

Seemingly snapping out of her wonderment, Tiffy nodded vehemently, wiping some tears out of her eyes. "Of course, Master Harry! Tiffy will wake Master Harry when supper be ready."

Harry just nodded mutely, and the elf smiled and disappeared with a snap of her long bony fingers.

Once she left, he stumbled out of his clothes and into the shower, and had what was probably the best shower he'd ever had in his life - the water felt incredibly smooth and refreshing on his skin (which really wasn't in good shape at this point), and suffice it to say, he was reluctant to step out. When he did, though, he dried off and changed into the clean, silky pyjamas (which were probably the most expensive thing he'd ever worn) Tiffy had supplied him with, and then proceeded to collapse into the abnormally soft bed (there had to be some sort of spell on it, Harry thought), falling into what should have been a peaceful slumber a few moments later.

But his dreams were not peaceful.

"Ah, Harry, how good of you to join me."

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think of this turn of events.