There it is. Hovering above Privet Drive #4 was the Dark Mark, pale green and frightening to all those who saw it. Except for Harry Potter. He saw this coming.

For the first three weeks he was staying over at the Burrow with the Weasley's. And for three weeks worth of nights, his scar had been hurting. But being the typical Harry Potter he was, he just thought it was telling him the same thing over and over again : Voldemort is near, or, Voldemort's power is growing. Everyone knew that, and he didn't need to pay attention.

God, how he wishes now he would have heeded those signs. If only he were here to protect the Dursely's at the least! Sure he hates them, but he never wanted them dead. Never.

" Oh, my,...dear Harry, I'm so sorry." Harry had forgotten that the Weasley's were there with him, sharing his anguish. He could hear Mrs. Weaseley break down at her comment, and Mr. Weaseley comforting her the best he could.

A light weight is rested upon Harry's shoulder, and he turns to see Ron. The once bright blue eyes were diminished to sorrow and sympathy. Emerald eyes shine with sudden hope and determination to find the Dursely's and find them alive. Harry braces his wand and runs into the once neat home of the anti-wizards. He could hear the others calling him back; begging him to stay clear incase Voldemort was still within. However, Harry almost hoped he was, that way he could confront the bastard who did this.

His frantic search for two minutes was ended when he forst saw Dudley on the kitchen floor, his clothes covered in blood. Voldemort didn't use one of the Unforgivables, but instead made Dudley suffer in torment and pain. No one deserved this, no one.

Harry rushes over to his side and looks into dim lit blue eyes. Dudley was still alive, and Harry wanted to keep it that way. The kitchen was covered in broken glass and shattered dishes. The table and chairs are broken like twigs, and blood lay practically everywhere. Shimmering eyes land on pure blue ones yet again.

" Dudley, hold on. I'll get you help, just stay with me." Harry could see his cousin struggling to say something. " No, no. Don't. I'm so sorry this happened, Dudley. And when you make it out of this, I'll understand if you never want to talk to me. Just don't..."

" Potter..." Dudley's voice was barely audible. His breathing is shalow, jagged, and uneven. The unnoticed pain on Harry's scar got worse when Dudley finally spoke in a whisper. " In...forest...dad..." His last word died softly, just as his heart did. Blue eyes devoid of sparkle just as Harry stands up, tears glistening in his eyes.

" Aunt Petunia!" he shouts and runs into the living room. Blood was everywhere, but there was no sign of a body. He turns to look through the doorway he came through and sees handwriting in red:

3 down, 2 more to go

" Shit, please don't mean-"

"Harry!" It was Ron's voice, and it was coming from the stairs. Harry rushes out of the den to meet Ron. His face was pale as he leads Harry to the master bedroom. There on the bed is a half naked Petunia Dursley. She is sheathed heavily in her own blood, possibly from abuse and rape.

" Shit." Harry moves over to his aunt's side and kneels down on one knee. He could she she is still breathing, but not so well.

" Harry," her voice lacks all venom, but pure strength in her weak state. " They took...Vernon. You need to...find him. The forest..." she pauses to regain her steady breathing. Harry takes this time to talk.

"Aunt Petunia, about Dudley, I'm so sorry. Voldemort wasn't supposed to come. You all were hidden and very few knew this location. God, I'm so sorry." The searing pain on his forehead got worse, and he figures out Aunt Petunia is about to go as well.

" It's not you fault..." she turns her head and looks at Harry. His emerald eyes bring tears to her own. " You're alone now...but please. Just find..." Just as she breaks, her voice was stolen from her, and so was her last intake of air. Harry is now left alone staring into blank hazel eyes helplessly.

The Gryffindor stands up with tear streaked cheeks. He had to find his uncle. But where? The forest? Harry whips around and runs urgently passed Ron, whose cheeks were also smeared with tears. He turns after his best friend.

" Where the hell are you going?" They appear out in the drive way, where most of the Weasley's were either crying, or looking sorrowful. Harry just then realizes how important they are to him.

" My uncle, he's in the forest. And if I don't go after him, he'll die." He remembers what he saw on the wall. Now it is four down, and one more to go. Five pure members of his family is what it represented. He couldn't save the previuos four. However, he could still save this last one. " I'm going after him."

This remark earned alot of fearful gasps.

" I'll go with you, Harry," says Mr. Weasley, letting go of his wife tenderly.

" Me too." says Ron with a confident tone, but Harry could sense the fear.

Harry shakes his head. " No. I'll do this alone." He turns around and runs over to the pack of trees and bushes by his house. Is that were they had meant? The forest? It's nothing but bushes ten feet deep. But he had to find out.

" Harry, you could get killed," says Mrs. Weasley, crying worse than ever.

A searing pain strikes on Harry's forehead. His uncle is dying. " Then so be it," he says in a half shout and breaks into a hard run into the forest.

Inside is alot deeper than it seemed. Harry follows the path slightly marked with blood on the leaves. He could feel his scar burning with more pain, and then he could feel warm liquid leak down to his nose. His hand absent mindly wipes it away as he runs faster. Ahead, he could see a bright familiar green light and speeds towards it faster. Harry reaches there in one minute flat, only to have a sharp climax of pain on his forehead. He lets out a strangled yelp of pain before it passes. His eyes open and land on a man tied to a tree. He was covered in more blood than Harry had ever seen, and then his stiff grey eyes. The avada kadevra curse was performed on Vernon Dusley.

Harry's attention then moved to the person who performed the curse. His hood was still drawn and his hand is still raised. The pearly skin of the Death Eater proved not to be Voldemort. Harry looks around to see the other minions of the Dark Side. There were about ten other Death Eaters in a semi circle; like they were forming a shield from the other side of the forest, and a green fire blazing in the middle with the familiar face of Peter Petigrew. He didn't look frightened like he always did, but smug with pride.

"Hello, dear boy."

The Death Eater that performed the curse whips around suddenly without anyone noticing his true reason for doing so.

" Damn you, Wormtail!" exclaims Harry. " Damn you straight to hell! Goddamn bastard! How dare you! What the fu-"

" Tut, tut, my Harry Potter," interrupts an ice cold drawl, yet some what affectionate. " You know better than that." Harry's scar blazes and more blood escape from the lightning bolt shape. His emerald eyes open just slightly enough through the pain to see a familiar young man with jet black hair and piercing auburn eyes with a slight frame of crimson color. Behind him were about fifteen Dementors. The usual mist that comes when the Azkaban guards approach Harry form in his vision. However, since he had handled this all before, he knew very well what to do.

Concentrating on the happiest thought he had, ( in this case which was winning both the Quidditch and House Cup in his fifth year) he raises his wand and shouts two words.

" EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A ghostly white stag gallops out of the edge of Harry's wand to the Dementors, who back away frightfully. The Death Eaters break away to allow the stag to push the Demenotrs further back, either from the fear of the darkness touching them, or revulsion, and into the forest beyond. Harry sighs weakly with loss of energy and kneels to the ground, gasping desperetely for oxygen. The young man looking no older than 16 looks on with slight lust and impressiveness, while others around looked on in awe. For sure Harry Potter wasn't called " Wonder Boy" for nothing.

" Yes, quite the show," he hisses mencaingly, more to the other spectators as though he knew what they were thinking. " Now, where did you learn that little trick?" He approaches Harry carefully, who made no attempt to back away. This was caused either from exhaustion, or he just didn't register this guy a threat. He thought that was just one of Voldemort's right hand recruits from other schools. However, this person looks terribly familiar. He was probably a good 5'10, two inches taller than Harry. His face displays handsome features and his body was built like a Quidditch player's.

" Who're...who are you?" Harry was quite confused. The auburn gems study him with a tinge of growing lust and...what...passion? After regaining his lost breath, Harry stood up, and, without breaking eye contact, wipes the blood away from his nose, and each side of his mouth. An unmistakable hiss of anger sounded from the other teen's mouth as he stood atleast two feet away from Harry; guilty expressive eyes peering into innocent green eyes. Before Harry could wipe his hand on his blue t-shirt, the teen grabbs onto his wrist and looks at the glistening -still wet- blood. For much did Harry wipe away.

" You don't remember me?" he whispers almost hurt, as though he really considered Harry an important part of himself. " Think, love. Who am I?" The complexion of his skin was pearly and slightly lighter than Harry's.

Harry was surprised. What kind of game was Voldemort playing at...bringing one of his followers, putting him under the imperious curse and commanding them to seduce Harry into love? That was just plain sick. However, Harry thought this recruit looks oddly and uncomfortably familiar. The emotions in the other's eyes were all to natural to be under a curse. Harry's head tilts slightly to the side, studying the person before him. He slowly remembers the features inch by inch as he takes it in, and gasps. He pulls his wrist away and steps back.

" Tom Riddle. "

The other teen nodds and takes Harry's wrist again. " Yes, Harry, the one and only." Looking at the still moist blood, he brings his hand closer to his lips, and a thin tongue slithers out to lick the blood on Harry's middle finger. Slowly at first, but as Tom got a better taste, his lips enclose on the creamy flesh.

Harry was to shocked to do anything. His greatest enemy his eating out of his hand, literally ( maybe not eating but drinking his blood). He had a great urge to jerk his hand away and call him a ' sick fuck' but couldn't find himself to do it. Either because Riddle would get mad because he took his hand away, or because he seemed to be opening a vulnerable side to him, and he didn't want to take it for granted. Harry is a trusting fool, and would probably trust Riddle with his life if someone else was out there trying to kill him. He knew that Riddle wants to kill Harry himself, and would probably kill his other predator just to have the golden boy to himself.

A surprising unmistakable moan escapes Riddle's chest and his eyes close. Harry felt a bit embarassed because the Death Eaters were staring at them with amusement, some shock, and others with just plain bewilderment and confusion. He could sense a rage of anger and jealousy radiating from someone among the group, but who, he couldn't tell. Looking around closely, he sees about four figures with his height. They must be spies for Voldemort, or err...Riddle> Harry thought as Riddle pulls away from his hand, licking his rosy lips. He lets go of Harry's completely clean hand. There is no trace of blood in sight, except for the dried traces down his wrist and forearm.

" What was that for?" Harry whispers unaudibly. I don't know what this is about, but damn. With how clean my hand is, I'm surprised he didn't get the missed parts too.> The slight amusement must have shown on Harry's face because of Riddle's next action.

He licked his scar. No. Delete that. He suckled his scar: like a wet sloppy kiss.

Harry jerks back for sure and stares with wide eyes at the pre-Dark Lord, who looks slightly disappointed. The rage that Harry felt from someone in the crowd went up ten fold. Slight fear rose in Harry's chest. Maybe whoever it is would be so jealous because Riddle is taking up all his time with him. However, Harry greatly doubted this. Who would be that interested in Riddle? Harry did think he did look quite attractive, though. He has a beauty like what someone like Malfoy possessed. Natural and expressive. Whoa, delete that. I am not checking out Riddle. Not Voldemort who killed my parents. And definetely NOT a Malfoy!>

" Do I need a reason to taste you?" asks Riddle in a seductive whisper. His slim tongue licks his lips again, tasting the remaining DNA on them and enjoying its authentic taste. " I've wanted to do that from the moment I realised how much you mean to me, and how much I need you." Harry looks on with shock and utter disbelief, however, he remained his mouth shut. " Your blood is something special, Harry. It is the foundation on upon which my life is dependant. It cures my wounds, defines your blood in my veins, and gives me more power and will than anything this pathetic world can offer me, if ever." Riddle leans closer to Harry, who didn't dare move. " It keeps me alive, love. You keep me alive." Meaningful eyes look into Harry's. Somehow, everything that Riddle seemed to say sounds sincere. He pulls away and looks at the other teen fully.

" Your blood provides will to life, yet it curses it and condems those who attempt to taste it. The very essence can bring the unconscious back to the living, if consumed properly. It gives will, strength, weakness, and power to those who drink it. However, being that it gives will, it can take away that will. As it becomes his strength, without it he is nothing but weakness.

" Your blood is what has led us to this day. It binds us together, and now, I am here to complete that bond. Finishing my half of the prophesy."

Harry pauses his moment of shock for ten seconds, taking in that last sentence. What bond? It's just blood. And what the hell is he talking about? I've never heard of a prophesy saying ' take the blood of your hatred and be bound together forever.' Who the hell wants to be woven to someone that they dispise anyway?> There is only one way to find out the answers. " What bond are you talking about?"

" Did you ever wonder why I killed your parents, Harry? How I take this form that is fifty years old?" Riddle is whispering lightly. It is clear that this conversation is meant for the both of them alone. " Why I needed to kill you in the first place?"

Harry nodds a little, avoiding his never-ending bloodloss, and careful as to not make any sudden movements that would change Riddle's additude in any way. He absent mindedly wipes away the blood from his constantly -but painless- bleeding scar. Without looking, he could see Riddle's expression, feel morelike, and decides against wiping the fresh plasma on his shirt; for Riddle might get angrier this time around

" When Lily and James married, I had vowed to kill them," explains Riddle in a monotine deviod of lies. " However, since they're location was undisclosed, I wasn't able to prevent your birth, Harry. Yes, you would have been the cause of their death before you were even born. This is because of what would happen sixteen years later.

" At that age the prophesy would be fulfilled. You see, when I first appeared at the Potter residence, James and Lily were slightly expecting my arrival. However, I was still able to catch them off guard. After I defeated your great father, I went in search for you. Not Lily; for I wanted you. Your mother and father needn't have died, but since they did anything and everything for you, they became noble martyrs for your sake.

" Then when I finally saw you in your manger, my powers were beginning to slip, and my control was lost. I was only able to say the words and point to your forehead, but nothing would take place. Why? Because of you. It had somethings to do with your mother, however, you yourself saved us from our cruel fate.

" I was greatly punished for trying to kill my other half, and I was reduced to nothing, as I may have explained before. Yes, Harry, my other half," he adds at Harry's startled gaze. " You are my other half." Riddle slightly smiles shyly and then looks at the moon in the darkening sky above. He could feel Harry's tears and blood mixing together, and gave him time to get rid of the show of weakness.

" But why? What would I do to you?" Harry was confused now. Riddle seemed to purposely avoid the point of Harry's alter in Riddle's life, however, Harry didn't mind listening to the other reasons of the other teen's actions.

" I'm getting there, love. Just be patient." Riddle looks back down into Harry's eyes. The only thing that can make him do things he never dreamt or thought of doing. " The prophesy said that you would be my my downfall, my power, my strength and my weakness. Everything you are, I will never be, and vise versa. We are two opposites down to the very core. That is why were need each other; why I need you.

" I was...incensed at first of what it all meant. When I was infatuated with the Dark Arts, and practiced my magic to its perfection, I hated the fact that I would have a weakness, and I dispised knowing that I would belong to someone; a person whom I cannot live without. It was hard for me to accept my fate, but only until one year ago, I have willingly approved of this irony, and I have planned to fulfill it." Riddle is sincerely smiling at the expressions of disbelief and confusion placed on Harry's face. He thought he looks adorable that way; completely oblivious to the fact that lies in all obvious riddles.

Harry just closes his eyes and breathes deeply, absorbing all that Riddle had said. Harry thought that they were connected as an easy bond through his scar, but an actual part of his soul? Harry wasn't even sure if he was completely a homosexual. However, he could himself as being bisexual. What is the bloody difference?>he asks himself in exasperation. His brows furrow slightly as he thinks about Riddle. So they are soulmates. And they have a unique bond that brings them together. There was so much irony in this fate, and Harry cursed it inwardly. However, he didn't know how to react to the thought of being with someone who had killed his parents and the Dursely's. It would be like betraying their memory.

A sudden thought crosses Harry's mind while he digested all of the informaton his other half had imprinted inside of his head.

Did Dumbledore know?

Emerald eyes are revealed once again as Harry's eyelids jerk open. Is that why all the charms and spells were placed on the Potter Residence? Dumbledore knew and that he and his family would be attacked. Is that why he didn't want to tell Harry? Because of how he would react to the truth of him and Riddle? " Damn," he mutters as the shield veiled before his eyes flew open. That's why they needed him. He was the only one that could defeat Riddle because he is him. He is Tom Marvolo Riddle ( or at least a part of him).

He was almost chosen into Slytherin because of his relation to Riddle.

He met the Dark Lord countless times because of their bond; their fate and irony that they had shared.

Harry could see it now. Riddle's hair is almost as mused as his was. The midnight color is identical. Their figure was alike: narrowly build and slender. The complexion is beautifully tanned and creamy. The only thing that had set them apart were their eyes. Harry has a forest emerald green, and Riddle had a auburn ruby color to it. They could almost pass for twins, however, they were already passed as one being.

Riddle is silently staring at the realization now showing on his love's face. " Ah, so now you recognize the truth in it all, hmm? I was afraid it might take more than that, not that I'm calling you dense..." Riddle was actually looking forward to the explanation of using a kiss. " So, do you accept it?"

Harry snapps out of his reverie of reality and looks into the auburn coloured eyes. He really had no choice. Yes, there is all too much irony in this fate. However, he stands his ground. " And if I don't?"

The Dark Lord seems to look too pleased, because he just smirked. His tongue wipes over his rosy lips. " Then I'll just find...other means of simple terms to help you," replies Riddle in a husky tone. Harry did not want to know what he had meant by that. Instead, he just raised an eyebrow and wipes the blood away from his eyes and cheeks. His hand was practically soaked when he looked down at it, and nearly frowned. He could die of bloodloss. Harry uses his free hand to pull up the lip of his shirt and presses it against his forehead. The bleeding was terrible and his shirt was drenched in ten seconds of contact.

" Christ, damn it," Harry hisses as he pulls his shirt away. He looks at his right hand covered in blood. Riddle swiftly glides to take Harry's wrist and look at his hand. He studies it carefully, as though memorizing it's features visually. Before Harry could do or say anything, Riddle clasps his left hand into his. Their fingers were entwined beautifully, Riddle feeling the moist blood on his palm. Harry then realized what they share together. He is, however, oblivious to the anger growing in one of the Death Eaters; watching them enviously.

" Mine," mutters Riddle as he slowly leans in for a gentle kiss. Harry freezes at the movement; at the feel of lips against his own. He feels the other's right hand run swiftly through his hair and a tongue lightly begging for entrance. However, before Harry could oblige, a faint 'pop' sounds in the clearing and the figure of Lucius Malfoy appears. His bright blonde hair shines as he quickly kneels down and talks, as though speaking to the ground.

" My lord, Dumbledore is on his way with the Ministry. They have found this location."

Harry could sense great anger from Riddle for being interrupted and hearing the news about Dumbledore isolating this area. He breaks away slowly and turns around hastily. " Goddamn it," he hisses. " How did he manage this, Lucius?"

" I was told, Lord, from our spies in the Ministry, that the muggle loving fool received an owl from Weasley, telling him about what had happend. He gathered a flock of those who would listen and knew about the situation and they're coming here now. How they found this particular spot is probably through the boy." Lucius had venom in his last sentence, but didn't dare to look up at Harry right behind Riddle; for he knows how the Dark Lord feels about him.

" Very well, Lucius. You may be dissmissed, along with the rest of you," drawls Riddle coldly, a voice Harry hadn't heard since the first (and worst) encounter he had with the Heir of Slytherin. " We will have a meeting again soon. I will alert you all when the time arrives." He swiftly turns towards Harry and smirks with the same character, as though Lucius's interruption had changed him forever. " and hopefully you will able to join us as well, love." He leans towards Harry's left ear. " And when we do meet again, my heart, I will be certain to claim you as mine, and I yours." He plants a chaste kiss on Harry's lips. His firey eyes look on intently into Harry's and then raises his wand. " I'm sorry." He takes a step backwards reluctantly. " Stupefy," he whispers. Before Harry could react, he was lying on the cold ground as the Death Eaters dissaparated one by one. The emerald flames burnt out as the last Death Eater watches Harry in slight pain, regret, helplessness, and most of all, raging anger for Tom Riddle who had dared to touch Harry.

" God, will he pay for this," the voice whispers lowly, before dissaparating to his mansion.





~~*~~




" That's very interesting, Severus. Thank you for telling me."

Harry Potter slightly stirs in his unconsciuos state. He could feel soft bedding underneath him, and someone holding gently onto his left hand. The faint feel of it felt like wrinkled silk. Harry figured this to be Dumbleore's hand, and the voice as his. He forgot about the happenings earlier, and intended on listening to the conversation.

What do you think we should do about it?"

This voice, as Harry places it, is very angry, however, not directed at the Headmaster. This voice was Snape's.

" Well, as Tom himself said, he can last without Harry's blood and he himself. However, since it strengthens his powers, and they are to be merged as one, he won't stop. I'm sure that Tom will not hurt Harry. However, pre-cautions still must be made. This is stil quite an interesting fact. We could use this to have Tom become on our side, and not have a war at all. I just don't think that Harry is ready just yet. And I am certain that Tom won't do anything harmful. However, if he does, I want to report it to me, Severus. But for now, Harry needs to go someplace safe. He can't stay here at Hogwarts. It does seem to be the first place that Tom would look." The ancient voice seemed weary and filled with worry; yet, it hides more wisdom and thoughts that Dumbledore dares to let on. Harry had never heard this before, not this intense at least

" Perhaps he can stay with me for the remaining month. However, if he comes around, I doubt that he will want to share that view of things. So if he would like to, he may choose to stay with the Weasley's.

Harry almost sighed loudly with relief, and then :

" It could be dangerous for them. Remember, there is a special bond between Harry and Tom. Tom can easily find the Burrow if it is not in an undisclosed location. Harry needs to stay with you. It's safe there." Dumbledore sighs. " I understand your feelings for Harry, and I'm against nothing. No one ever is unless it involves the Dark Arts. But I do ask that before you do anything, explain it all to him. However, I do ask that you do nothing more. The prophesy that Tom speaks of is true. I was there when he received it.

It was in his sixth year that we went to visit Professor Seon, the divination teacher. As we were talking, his face turned blank and he spoke in a deep monotone about this bond that Tom and Harry now share. But how Tom returned to his youth, he didn't say. However, I do reckon that it was because of Harry's blood in his veins. It is a rather queer prediction, but it has proved to be true. If you get involved with the boy, Severus, I fear for you life, and your heart..."

Harry could feel the cold air move as Snape turns to leave.


" Tom may not have claim on you yet, Harry," says Dumbledore softly. " But you do belong to him, and he you."




~~*~~




The bedding is quite stiff and starchy this time. Hands clench and unclench the emerald quilt that they rest upon. The deep red curtains are draped around the bed, blocking the obvious sunlight. The boy sits up and looks around the large round queen sized bed. This couldn't be Hogwarts. Harry Potter opens the drape to his right and leaps out after finding his glasses on a nightstand. The room had a large bookshelf, a fire place, a desk at the far corner and three beautiful french windows aligned on each side of the room. Everything around him is practically green, red, blue or black. Harry walks to the edge of his bed and sees his trunk and Hedwig in her cage. She looks quite disgruntled. He smiles at her softly and opens her cage. The snowy owl flies out and perches herself on a perch by the window, facing away from her owner.

Harry remembers his state of half consciuosness. He heard Dumbledore saying that he had to stay over at Snape's. A shudder wipes through his body. Also the night before's events were still very clear in his mind, but he didn't want to worry about that now. He only had one problem on his mind: being at Seveus Snape's home. This is were Snape lives. I'm at Snape's house!> Harry almost yelled that out loud, but thought better of it. He is in a Death Eater's home. A Death Eater! What was Dumbleodre thinking?! Harry nearly yelped as the large oak door opened. A small elf pokes it's head through the small crack.

" Ah, Mister Harry Potter has awakened. Master sends Ray up here to offer Harry Potter some breakfast. Are you hungry sir?"

Now that Harry thought about it, he did feel weak and hungry (probably due to the major bloodloss). He nodds slowly and follows the elf out of the room and to the stairs. The Manor was beautiful. The colors that filled Harry's room were all over the place, added with the gold color of the rails. At the third step from the bottom, he felt a wave a dizziness before losing his balance and toppling over with a small squeal. He feels strong arms close around him, holding him close.

Harry suddenly felt the safety and warmth radiating from the protective embrace. There wasn't anything but pure fonding. He is in slight reverie of his thoughts about his Potions Master.

" Potter?" the voice seemed a bit hesitant and worried. "Potter!"

Harry snapps out of his distraction and looks up at the obsidian eyes shining and soft hair brushing it's sides. An intake of air is caught in his throat. Snape's hair was normal. Not greasy, tangled, or mused. A soft smile plays on Harry's lips, forgetting about their differences and looks at his Professor through the eyes of a friend-to-be.

. Snape places Harry rightfully on the floor. " Are you okay, boy?" Harry nods and his smile broadens. I think we'll just be friends.> thinks Snape as he looks curiously at his student for one last year. I couldn't bare to lose this. Not ever.>. And Snape turns around, leading Harry into the kitchen for breakfast without another word; but with rare kindess as an implication for a new and strong friendship.