Disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling

I'm just too much of a softie!

This was supposed to be a five part 'oneshot' (so like a fiveshot) but at the request of so many of you wonderfully controlling readers, I'm turning this into a full length fic. It's not going to be as long as the trilogy books, but it's a lot longer than initially planned. :)

Chapter One

A dull throbbing headache, was the first thing Harry registered when he awoke from a groggy sleep. Moving his hand to his forehead, he felt a slight bump under his fingers. Harry forced his eyes open, blinking to clear his vision. A strangely familiar ceiling met his eyes, confusing him at first, before filling him with complete horror.

Harry shot up in bed, his breathing quickening as he took in the sight of his room, his old room, in Riddle manor. The memory of what happened while he was making his way to stand trial, flashed through his mind. Voldemort had come to the Ministry. He had come to take him away. The last thing Harry remembered, was being forced into a side-along disapparation. He didn't know what happened after that, how he became unconscious, or how he ended up back in this room.

Harry scrambled out of the bed and darted towards the door, fearing it would be locked. He may not need his wand to unlock many things, but Voldemort's locks wouldn't open even with a wand. He twisted the handle in panic and, to his immense surprise, it clicked open. Harry threw open the door and ran out, only to come face to face with Bella.

Both stopped mid-step, staring at the other with twin looks of surprise. In Bella's hands, was a tray, laden with both food and healing potions.

"Harry," she started, her tone placating. "Just wait, don't-"

Harry ran, darting around her, racing down the narrow corridor.

"Harry! Harry, wait!" Bella called behind her, throwing down the tray and chasing after him.

Harry took the stairs two at a time, almost tripping in his haste. Bella's shouts echoed behind him, but Harry didn't stop. He reached the exit portrait and cried out the password. The door opened and Harry bolted forwards, only to come to a sudden stop. Lord Voldemort was waiting for him, standing alone in the foyer, with his hands tucked behind him.

Harry stared at him, breathing hard. Beads of perspiration had already gathered on Harry's forehead, his eyes shadowed with fear. Bella arrived behind him, but she too came to a stop, at the sight of the Dark Lord.

Voldemort glanced at Bella once before returning his red-eyed gaze to Harry.

"Go back to your room, Harry," he instructed.

Harry took a step back but weakly shook his head.

"Let me go," he said.

"You need to rest," Voldemort continued, acting as if he never heard Harry.

"Just...just let me go," Harry said, his voice cracking.

"You should change," Voldemort continued, looking Harry up and down. "Take a bath and wear your own clothes,"

"I want to go home!" Harry screamed.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed, his anger resonating in Harry's scar.

"You are home, Harry," he said each word carefully, driving it home.

Harry shook his head, but backed up a step.

"Please," Harry's voice broke, "just let me go. Let me go back."

Voldemort smiled, tilting his head to the side.

"Back?" he asked. "Back to what? Back to prison? To the trial?" he walked towards him. "You still don't see it," he said. "Harry, you have no future if you go back. The Ministry will throw you back in prison and make you stand trial. They will sentence you to the Kiss."

Harry was shaking his head, moving back in answer to every step Voldemort took to get closer.

"You are safer here, with me," Voldemort continued. "You're back where you belong – at my side."

Harry was in tears, his sobs caught somewhere in his chest, fighting to get out. He shook his head at Voldemort again.

"You don't...don't have to do this," he said. "Please...don't."

Voldemort laughed and finally pulled his hands away, revealing his wand in hand.

"Nothing gets by you, does it, Harry?" he said. "I raised you right, after all."

"No," Harry backed up against Bella, who immediately grabbed him by the arms. "NO!" Harry screamed, struggling wildly, "Bella, please! No!"

"Calm down, Harry," Bella urged in his ear. "It's for the best."

"She's right," Voldemort said, walking up to stand before Harry. "This really is for the best."

"Please," Harry pleaded. "Don't take my memories, please."

"You brought this onto yourself," Voldemort told him. "I gave you the chance to come back on your own. If you had, I would've let you keep all your memories." He ran a hand down Harry's face, caressing softly, ignoring Harry's flinch and fight to move away. "I should have known you were too stubborn to give in. Now, I have no choice but to memory charm you." He smiled at Harry's chocked sob. "You won't remember what's happened these past few months. It'll be as if you never left."

Harry pulled his face away from Voldemort's hand, his eyes shining with angry tears.

"You can take my memory," he panted, "but you can't take the memory of every person I've met outside these walls!"

"No," Voldemort smiled, "but I can kill them all."

Harry's mouth dropped open, his eyes widening with fear. He shook his head.

"You...you can't," he struggled against Bella. "You can't kill all of them. Someone, somewhere will survive, they'll tell me the truth and I'll know I'm under a memory charm." He ignored the burn in his scar and held the fierce scarlet gaze. "But, if you let me keep my memories and swear not to hurt my family, I'll stay with you."

Voldemort looked taken aback.

"It's what you wanted, right?" Harry went on, his nervousness and panic evident in his voice, "for me to choose you? Okay. I choose you," Harry said. "I'll stay with you, I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt them and don't take my memories." He paused as the mental image of his dad, his mum and Damy flashed through his mind. "Don't make me forget them."

Voldemort didn't say anything for long minutes. He simply stood there, staring at Harry, at the tearful eleven year old boy. A slow smirk spread over his face.

"You promise, Harry?" he asked.

"I promise," Harry said at once. "I'll do whatever you say. I'll stay with you, I'll never leave you, just...don't take my memories, please."

Voldemort studied him, looking at Harry with calculating eyes.

"I don't know," he mused, toying with him. "You did defy me. You can't expect me not to punish you. What kind of a father would I be if I didn't discipline my son?"

Harry was fighting back his panic. He steeled himself the best he could, but when he spoke, his voice trembled all the same.

"You can do whatever you like," he said. "I won't make a sound, I promise. But leave my memories with me."

Voldemort's smirk fell when he realised what Harry thought his punishment would be. He stared at Harry, at the child he had systematically worked to break. Was it all that strange for him to consider physical brutality as a punishment?

Voldemort stepped closer and his finger gently traced Harry's cheek.

"I won't hurt you," he said, quietly. "Not in the way you think."

Harry's fear shone from his emerald eyes, as he stared up at him, completely confused. "What are you going to do?"

Voldemort smiled. "I'm going to make sure you stay true to your promise."

His eyes fell to Harry's chest and he frowned. There was something there, bulging in his pocket. Voldemort reached for it. Harry was restrained by Bella, but his hands twitched in instinct, to stop him. Voldemort pulled out a small hand mirror, from Harry's inner pocket. He stared at the strange item.

"What is this?" he asked.

Harry was looking at the mirror with tears in his eyes, but he didn't speak.

Voldemort waved his wand over the mirror, looking for everything from concealment charms to transfiguration. He found the glowing charm almost instantly. He looked to Harry with surprise.

"A tracking charm?" he asked.

A look of shocked horror fell across the eleven year old's face. He shook his head.

"I didn't...I didn't know it had a tracking charm," he said. "I swear, I had no idea–"

His words were cut off when Voldemort grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward, out of Bella's arms.

"You were going to double cross me?" he snarled.

Harry shook his head, the excruciating pain in his scar muted him for a moment. "No," he managed to choke out. "I...I didn't know, I swear."

Voldemort smirked, but his eyes were burning. "You're playing a dangerous game, son," he whispered. "Careful you don't lose it all."

"I'm not lying," Harry gasped. "I didn't know it had a tracking charm. I used it in Nurmengard, to talk to my mum–"

Voldemort's fury resonated in Harry's scar, cutting him off with a groan.

"You want to know what your punishment is?" Voldemort hissed.

Trembling in both pain and fear, Harry raised his eyes to look at him.

"Your punishment, Harry, is that you will stay by my side, until the very last day of your long, long life," Voldemort said quietly. "You will do what I say, without complaint, without hesitance. You will do it all for your family!" He spat the word. "But you will never see any of them again. You won't forget them, I'll make damn sure of that. You will live your life, doing everything you hate in exchange for their pathetic lives, all the while knowing that you will never see them again, and neither will they ever find you."

Harry's tears trailed down his cheeks, but he didn't make a sound. He held Voldemort's furious eyes, knowing he meant each and every word.

"That, my son," Voldemort said, "is your perfect punishment."

He hauled Harry out of the door, dragging him out of Riddle manor. He threw the mirror behind him. Bella looked at it for a long moment, before following after her master.

Not even ten minutes later, James Potter came running into the manor, a team of Aurors behind him. James searched the dark foyer, looking for Harry. All he found, was the mirror left on the floor of the empty manor.

xxx

Five years passed, but James never stopped searching for Harry. He knew his son was alive, he had to keep believing that, if only to stay sane. The weeks following Harry's abduction from the Ministry of Magic had the entire wizarding world in a frenzy. The Dark Lord had come into the Ministry itself and took Harry. What place was secure if the Ministry of Magic wasn't? Fudge resigned within the year and Rufus Scrimgeour took over the office.

Curiosity for Harry's whereabouts remained for six, seven months, then the world lost interest. But for Harry's family, the search could never end, not until they found him.

James Potter had become a name in Auror circles. He was known for going into Death Eater nests and walking back out, barely a scratch on him. In the last five years, he had arrested countless Death Eaters – most of them lower rank, but a few higher up the chain were also thrown into Azkaban because of James.

To James though, all the praise and awe was meaningless. He went into those hideouts to gleam information about his son. He arrested Death Eaters, in the hopes that one of them, in the interest of saving themselves, might give him a clue as to where Voldemort was keeping Harry. But the Death Eaters never seemed to know anything worthwhile. Most of them didn't even know Voldemort had Harry in his clutches. It was all a waste, as far as James was concerned.

Order meetings were first focused on tracking down Harry, but gradually, over the years, they too moved to Voldemort and not the boy he was holding against his will. Dumbledore assured James every time he met him, that he was doing all he could and that they would find Harry one day. After five years, the empty promises got harder to tolerate.

James sat at the table, at the latest Order meeting, but his mind was on Harry. Where could Voldemort be keeping him? It was almost as if Harry had disappeared. What was his son going through?

Lily rested a hand on his, bringing James out of his thoughts. He looked around at her and gave her a tight smile. Lily's concerned eyes met his, but James quickly looked away. He found he couldn't look Lily in the eyes anymore. Every time he did, all he saw were Harry's eyes.

"As you all are aware, there have been a number of attacks on Death Eaters in the past year." Dumbledore was saying. "It's been confirmed that these Death Eaters killed were inner circle members. Since neither the Ministry nor the Order has taken responsibility for these attacks, it leads to the question of the identity of this attacker." The room was silent, every eye on Dumbledore. "The most recent attack was carried out last night. A Death Eater named Jason Riley was killed in his home. The Ministry claim not to be responsible and we know that the Order wasn't responsible either. It leads to the question of who is tracking down these Death Eaters and killing them?"

xxx

The room was dimly lit. The torches flickered in the breeze that swept into the room from the open windows. Lord Voldemort stood in front of his hand-selected inner circle Death Eaters.

"The news I've received is deeply distressing," he said. "It turns out, Riley had an accomplice."

The Death Eaters turned their heads to look at one another, apparently just as surprised at the news as Voldemort had been.

"Hunt," Voldemort revealed. "He's gone into hiding. But there is no place you can go to escape me." His smirk had several Death Eaters shudder. "Go," he said. "Finish the rat!"

The Death Eaters bowed low and started to file out of the room. Voldemort watched each one leave, before his eyes went to the young, dark-haired boy in the room. He wasn't a Death Eater, but he came to all the meetings. He stood in the corner, listened and obeyed, just like he was supposed to. But he never left the room, not until the very last Death Eater walked out.

As the room emptied, the boy turned, about to take his leave.

"Harry," Voldemort called.

Harry halted and turned around. For a moment, Voldemort did nothing but stare at the sixteen year old boy. Harry's emerald eyes held Voldemort's gaze, just like always, but he didn't speak. Voldemort had found, ever since the day he dragged the eleven year old out of riddle manor and to this new hideout, Harry didn't speak unless asked a direct question. Voldemort had first put it down to a childish sulk. Then the days turned to weeks, then months and now, it was five years later and Harry still held his tongue.

Voldemort lifted a hand and gestured for Harry to come closer. Harry came, no hesitance, no dread. He stopped before him. Voldemort reached out and gently touched Harry's shoulders. He stiffened almost at once. Voldemort told himself he shouldn't be surprised. His close proximity always had this reaction.

"I want you to be the one to end Hunt's life, son," he told Harry.

Harry nodded. "Yes sir."

Voldemort let go of him and stepped back. His eyes stayed on Harry, trying to look past the expressionless mask he wore. But Harry had great practise over the years. Harry remained where he was, holding Voldemort's gaze. Finally, Voldemort nodded.

"You can go."

Harry turned and walked away, closing the door behind him.

Voldemort let out a breath. He told himself it was about time he got used to it. Harry always referred to him as 'sir' now. He hadn't called him anything else these past five years. Voldemort forced his anger, his hurt, to pass him by. He didn't want to admit how much he missed it. How much he wanted to hear it. How badly he wanted Harry to call him 'father' again.

xxx

Harry prepared for the assignment. He lined his cloak with his usual daggers and throwing knives. A knock came at his door. Harry waved a hand and the door unlocked. He already knew who it was. There was only one that came to his door, the only one Harry allowed into his room. Sure enough, the door opened and Lucius Malfoy walked in.

His grey eyes narrowed at Harry's attire. "You have another assignment?" he asked. "Didn't you just complete one yesterday?"

Harry nodded and picked up his holster, strapping it to his leg. "Riley had an accomplice," he explained.

Lucius shook his head. "Who is it?"

"Hunt," Harry replied, slotting his second wand into the holster.

"That coward?" Lucius asked with surprise. "He doesn't have the guts."

Harry straightened up, meeting Lucius's eyes. "After tonight, he won't have a lot of things." He walked past him, to pick up his set of ninja stars.

Lucius followed him with his eyes. "Just stay back," he advised. "Let the others do it."

"He wants me to make the kill," Harry said.

Lucius cursed in his mind. Voldemort knew fair and well how much Harry hated killing, and that was precisely why he made him do it. Seeing the boy stoically getting ready, made Lucius remember why he had come to see him.

"I have something for you," he said. He pulled the folded newspaper out from his robes.

Harry looked over at him and stilled. His eyes went to the paper and then to Lucius's face. He gave a weak shake of his head.

"No," he said. "Lucius, don't–"

"It's just the Daily Prophet," Lucius replied. "You're not banned from reading the paper, are you?"

Harry's gaze fell to the paper again. He stared at it with the longing of a man that had found food after days of starvation.

"Lucius, if he finds out–"

"He won't," Lucius said. "Has he found out about the others?" He held out the paper with a smile. "Go on," he said.

Harry took a step forward but then stopped. He was fighting with himself.

"It's not just him this time," Lucius said. "It's the whole family."

That did it. Harry was before Lucius in a heartbeat. He took the paper and unfolded it at once. There, on the front cover, was his dad. Harry stared at the picture of James Potter. He looked just the same as the last time his photo was in the paper. He had a little extra grey in his messy hair, a few more lines around his hazel eyes, but other than that, he looked perfectly healthy.

Harry's eyes darted to the headline, 'Super Auror Strikes Again'. The article was something about the last Death Eater raid his dad was involved in. Harry didn't particularly want to read it. His eyes pulled to his paragraphs that held his dad's name. He saw the story continued a few pages later. He flipped the pages to land on a family snap. It took over half of the page. It looked like Kings Cross, at the platform 9 ¾ . Harry recognised the scarlet Hogwarts Express train.

With a painful lurch of his heart, Harry remembered coming to this very place when he was going to Hogwarts. He had been angry with his dad, for taking him to see a mind-healer. He had refused to speak to him for days. Even on the platform, Harry didn't talk to James and had almost gotten on the train without making up with him. Thankfully, he had changed his mind and went running into his dad's arms.

Harry stared at the picture, at his mum, looking just as beautiful as he remembered. His dad was ignoring the camera, his hand extended to help Lily off the train. Next to her, peeking his head out to smile cheekily at the journalists camera, was Damien. They must have come back from Hogwarts for the summer break.

Being a famous Auror, James Potter had many stories in the paper, accompanied by quick snaps. Every time he came in the paper, Lucius sneaked Harry his copy, so Harry could see him. But Lily and Damien hadn't appeared in the paper, not until today. Harry stared at them, at his mum, at his younger brother. He soaked in their appearance. God only knew when he'd see their picture again, if ever.

His eyes lingered on his younger brother. Damien was coming up for thirteen this October. The last time Harry had seen him, Damien had just turned eight. He still remembered how his little brother had almost been trampled to death in the Ministry. That was the last time Harry had seen him. Harry couldn't help but smile at the photo. It was caught in an endless loop of Damien poking his head out from behind his mum and smiling at the camera. He looked well, all of them did.

"I thought you'd like it," Lucius said. "I've not seen you smile like that in months."

Harry closed the paper and folded it over. He looked at Lucius, but didn't say anything. Steeling himself, Harry pulled out his wand and the folded paper levitated in the air. Harry gave it one last look before he twisted the wand and the paper caught on fire. It remained in mid-air, burning, the ash falling to the floor. Harry watched it with a bleeding heart. This was partly why he didn't want Lucius bringing him anything, because in the end he had to destroy it, to save it from being discovered by Voldemort.

When nothing of the paper remained, Harry waved his wand and the ash staining his carpet disappeared.

Harry turned to face Lucius. "You need to stop bringing me these," he said.

Lucius chuckled. "I think the words you're looking for are, 'Thank-you, Lucius'."

"You know I'm grateful," Harry said. "But you also know what he'll do if he finds out."

Lucius lost his smile. "I know the pain of being separated from family, Harry," he said. "The least I can do, is give you a glimpse of yours whenever possible."

Harry stared at him. Lucius was like him, he too had lost his family because of Voldemort. It had been five years since Lucius had seen his wife and son. After Lucius was revealed as a Death Eater, in the same memory that uncovered Harry's first kill, Lucius was a wanted man by the Ministry. His life was over. His money was seized, his home ransacked by Ministry officials. Narcissa had taken Draco and left the country. No one knew where they were. Harry had an incline they were with Narcissa's brother Marco, but there was no way to prove it. That was why Harry didn't push Lucius away like he did the rest – because he knew Lucius was going through the same pain. Lucius Malfoy was just as much a prisoner as Harry was. Through Lucius's risks, Harry got to see his dad's picture every now and again, and today he saw his whole family. Lucius hadn't seen Narcissa or Draco in five long years.

xxx

James looked around the empty building. Why anyone would opt to live in an empty warehouse was beyond him. They had received information that a Death Eater was hiding out here. Exactly why a Death Eater had chosen a run down, freezing warehouse for a home was a mystery.

James and a team of four Aurors were sent to investigate and capture the Death Eater. James, his best friend, Sirius, a fellow Order member, Kingsley, and two Ministry Aurors, Liam and Nathan made up the team.

A loud clang made the Aurors stop and tense. Wands were in hand and James signalled the rest of the team to follow him. They headed in the direction of the noise. Just as they turned the corner they saw a short, blond haired man, cowering in the middle of the circle of Death Eaters.

The Aurors quickly fell back, darting to stay out of sight. James and Sirius hid behind a wooden crate. They watched as the short, blond haired man sat on his knees, sobbing and begging for his life.

"Please," he was saying. "I didn't do anything. Please, don't kill me."

The Death Eaters, their faces covered by white masks, laughed at him.

"You're so pathetic, Hunt," one said. "Did you really think you can betray the Dark Lord and survive?"

James shared a look with Sirius. So the man in the middle of the circle was a Death Eater too.

"It wasn't me!" Hunt cried. "It was Riley. It was all him! He was the one trying to blackmail the Dark Lord. I had no part in it, I swear! I'm faithful to the Dark Lord. I'm a servant to Lord Voldemort. Please, please don't kill me! I'm sorry! Forgive me, please!"

James caught the eyes of the other three Aurors. He signalled at them to attack at his command. If this Death Eater had turned on Voldemort, he was worth more to the Ministry alive than dead. Deep down, James hoped he may know something about Harry, and if he saved his life, the Death Eater might happily tell him all he knows.

The Death Eaters laughed. "The Dark Lord doesn't forgive," another masked man said. "You should have thought about that before joining Riley."

Someone stepped past the circle of the Death Eaters and Hunt began crying, pushing himself back.

"No!" he shouted. "Please, no, no!"

James narrowed his eyes, trying to see what had panicked the Death Eater. That's when he saw the boy, dressed in black, except for the silver mask which covered the whole of his face, walking calmly towards Hunt. James felt like his blood had turned to ice. The familiarity hit him like a punch in the gut. He gasped, staring at the messy hair and the sharp green eyes behind the mask.

The Death Eater was cowering, looking like he might just die with panic. "Please, Prince! Don't kill me! Please, have mercy!"

The boy didn't say a word. He lifted his wand, aiming at Hunt's head. James felt Sirius shift next to him, but he couldn't move, he couldn't take his eyes off the silver masked boy.

"Please, Dark Prince! No, no, please–"

"Avada Kedavra," the boy said and the green light hit Hunt, between the eyes.

The thump of Hunt's lifeless body hitting the ground was what broke James's trance. He didn't give the signal. He just got up and launched himself at the circle of Death Eaters. Sirius and the three Aurors dove after him.

The Death Eaters were thrown by the sudden attack but they retaliated in the blink of an eye. Curses flew in every direction, ricocheting off the walls and ground. James saw the silver-masked boy take off, not engaging in the battle. James threw curse after curse at the Death Eaters in his way, as he made to go after the boy. He could hear Sirius and Kingsley calling his name, but James ignored them all, fighting his way through the crowd.

He caught sight of the boy climbing out of the window. James ran to the other side, kicked down the door and darted out into the night. He came into the boy's path, seeing him heading towards the edge of the anti-apparition wards.

The boy came to a sudden stop. The wand was still in his hand, but he didn't raise it. James could see the green eyes behind the mask widen in recognition. James was breathing fast, his chest heaved like he had been running all his life. He stared at the boy, his heart aching. He knew who it was, mask or no mask.

With slow steps, James walked towards the boy, who stood rooted to the spot, his eyes never leaving James. The sound of the battle rang in the background, but neither James or the boy turned towards it. They were locked in each other's gaze. James came to stop before the boy, who was almost as tall as him. With a shaky hand, James reached towards the mask. The boy didn't move. James touched the silver mask and for a heartbeat, he simply held it. Then he pulled it off.

James's breath rushed out of him at the sight of his son, at his Harry. His vision was blurred with tears, but James blinked them out of the way, staring at the face of his grown up, sixteen year old son. Harry was staring at him with glistening eyes, but he didn't speak.

James couldn't believe it. He had dreamt of this moment every night and day for five long years. He never thought he would find Harry like this, amongst Death Eaters. He never thought he'd witness his son taking a life again.

James's lips quivered, his heart beating a thousand miles a minute. The mask dropped from his hand. He reached out to gently touch Harry's cheek, to prove to himself that he really was here.

"Harry," his voice shook, threatening to break.

Harry didn't speak, but a tear spilled out of his eye, coming down to rest on James's finger.

The doors behind them banged open and shouts rang in the air. Harry's eyes moved to look behind James. His expression changed, his eyes widening with fear. He pushed James, throwing him to the floor. A jolt of light that had been knocked off course, hit Harry in the arm, slicing his skin open. Blood spilled out from the cut. Harry staggered back, his hand coming to clutch at his wounded arm.

"Fall back!" Harry yelled. He looked to James and stepped back. "Now!"

James watched in numbed shock as Harry turned and ran, the Death Eaters chased after him. They ran right past James, yet none of them turned their wands on him. James picked himself up, stumbling onto his feet.

"Harry!" he yelled and his voice broke. "No! Harry!"

Sirius ran to his side, grabbing him by the arm.

"James!" he cried. "You okay?"

But James couldn't speak. He couldn't even shake his head. Tears fell from his eyes as he stared at the spot Harry had disappeared, past the wards.