Sigh I knew I couldn't keep up the pace for long. Yep. You guessed it. It's my fanfic-writer's mandatory leave of absence notice :[ Not by choice mind you, but circumstance. Next week is graduation, and I've been informed that I'm rooming with one relative in my room (she goes to bed early, so I can't stay UP and write), and another one is going to be in our computer room, which leaves out the computer for about a week or so…AAAHHHH!! What'm I gonna do? What'm I gonna do? Okay, okay, I'm okay, it's just a week, it's just a week…AAHHH!! Wow, I'm already having drawback symptoms…

So, what I'm getting at is I won't be able to post another chapter until probably around the 25th or so (EEEP!!!), maybe sooner if I can steal into the computer room and upload a story while my aunt's sleeping ;) Hah, hah! Even I'M not that obsessive…or AM I??? Until then, here's the latest chapter. Oh yeah, and the second part's a bit long, but hey, y'all don't mind, do you? Of course not… ~8]

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Disclaimers: I don't own these properties, but if the fifth book isn't out by next summer, then I claim rights. I can do that, can't I? Whines I knew I should'a been a Law student…

Chapter 19: The Proposition (ten points to your house if anyone can tell me what the significance of that title is being in a Harry Potter fic! Ah hA!)

Although several minutes had passed, Ron continued to stare wide-eyed at the miniaturized Draco. The tiny figure wavered slightly atop Hermione's palm, its little mouth hinged open in shock. Ron resisted the strong urge to simply flick the Slytherin across the room, but reluctantly decided against doing so. George, on the other hand, wasn't so keen on keeping such thoughts to himself as he peered intently at the small figure.

"Can we quash him now?"

Hermione made a face and gasped at the horror of the idea. Swinging her palm around and out of George's reach, she nearly knocked Draco off in the process. Instead the Slytherin fell back, dazed. She eyed him curiously as he struggled to stand back up, and gasped again as he began to shake an angry fist at her.

"HA! Look at 'em go!" Fred laughed, not bothering to hide his amusement at the situation, "He looks like a ruddy wind-up toy!"

Although Malfoy's mouth was moving, no words were coming out because of his size--his lungs and vocal cords simply weren't large enough to carry his voice to those around him. When he finally motioned to Hermione with a tiny yet discernible rude gesture, she jerked her hand to the left, knocking him off balance again. "That'll teach him," she muttered, right before she let out a startled cry.

"OW!"

Laying on his stomach, Draco looked up and glared at Hermione after he'd bitten into the fleshy part of her palm. Ron sighed, moving to pick him up by the back of his robes. "Let me see 'em," he sighed, dangling the Slytherin at eye level betwixt his thumb and forefinger. "Knock it off, Malfoy, or I'll feed you to Hermione's cat," Ron threatened, not caring if Draco could hear him or not. In response the tiny Slytherin began to flail his arms and legs, aiming to kick at Ron's nose. He soon tired himself out, however, and Draco went limp.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell, now what?"

Placing her hand under Ron's, Hermione carefully collected the prone figure and placed him on the ground. "Stand back," she said tersely, her voice now tinged with worry. Giving her wand a graceful swish and flick motion, she declared, "Reducio!"

The tiny figure on the ground before them swelled instantly to its normal size, sprawled flat on his back. It wasn't until then did the Gryffindors realize just how haggard their classmate looked, his normally pale complexion now a sickly ashen gray.

Ron knelt near Draco, his ear close to the other boy's mouth as he listened for breathing sounds. Satisfied when he saw the slight rise and fall of his chest, he tried to gently shake him awake. When that didn't work he began to lightly slap his face, calling his name. "Malfoy? Can you hear me? Wake up, Malfoy, we haven't got all day…" Failing to rouse him, Ron glanced at Hermione and his brothers before withdrawing his wand.

"Let's see if I can't ennervate him--" Ron gasped as a hand suddenly clenched around his throat, pulling him close to the body on the floor.

The Dragon had awakened.

"Where…is…he?" the Slytherin's voice rasped, his bloodshot eyes pried open wide.

"…who…?" Ron choked out.

Draco dug his fingers in deeper. "Potter…where's…Potter?!"

Ron clawed at Malfoy's hand, whose grip was unrelenting. "Let…go--"

"Stupefy!"

Ron watched as Draco's arm slid to his side with a thud, unconscious once again. Taking a deep breath he turned to Fred, whose wand was still aimed at Malfoy. "Thanks." Fred shrugged in response. "Anytime. I've always wanted to do that. Actually, I've always wanted to turn him into a Clabbert, but I suppose this'll do for now."

Standing up, Ron adjusted his robes. "Right. I suppose we should conjure up an invisible stretcher now?" Hermione shook her head. "No, it'd be too difficult to maneuver him through the corridors. They were tight enough as it was with just the four of us."

"How about Mobilicorpus? Then we'd be in complete control," George suggested. Hermione smirked, shaking her head again. "What, so you can 'accidentally' run him into a few walls along the way? I don't think so." George shrugged as he thoughtfully studied the prone figure. A few moments later he brought his head up, a wide grin spreading across his features.

"Who's to say we can't go about this the easy way?" he asked.

Ron glanced at him, slightly confused. "Surely you don't mean to apparate him. We haven't the ability or the license--" George shook his head, grinning.

"No, no, of course not. I mean, would it be so terrible if we just miniaturized the bugger again, until we got him to the Infirmary?" He hitched up the right side of his robes, tugging at his pants' pocket. "Look, he'd fit right in. And there's not too much lint in there, so it's not like he'd suffocate, or anything--"

"Won't he wake up?" Hermione asked doubtedly, though inside she was thoroughly considering the idea. George nodded his head towards Malfoy. "What, him? I shouldn't think so. He'd have probably been out 'till Thanksgiving if Ron hadn't ennervated him," he assured her.

Hermione glanced to Ron, his arms crossed against his chest. "He's right, you know," Ron sighed, looking up at his friend, "it'd be a lot quicker getting out of here, and the sooner he wakes up, the sooner he can tell us what he knows about Harry." Satisfied, Hermione nodded in agreement, not actually believing she was approving of their rather unorthodox method. Something still bothered her, though.

"Wait, if Draco thinks the real Harry did this to him, it's impossible. We haven't even learned about human transfiguration yet, if that's in fact what caused this. I'm not even sure of what the spell is--" Fred held up a finger. "No, but we do," he smiled, nodding at George. "McGonagall taught it to us not too far back. I think we'll manage."

'Manage?' She sighed, a brief smile wavering uncertainly on her face. Turning to George, she asked, "Would you like have the honor, then?"

George grinned devilishly, his wand aimed and at the ready before she even asked.

"Duodecrescium!"

Instantly Malfoy shrank to his previous size, no larger than George's index finger. When George moved to pick him up, Hermione hesitantly stepped in front of him. "Erm, perhaps I'd better 'pocket' him…just in case." George laughed loudly at this. "You don't trust me, do you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course I trust you, George! It's just…well, my pockets have less lint in them than yours. It'd be safer. For him. To let me carry him, that is. Not so much dust, you know." Without another word, a slightly embarrassed Hermione knelt down and scooped up the tiny Malfoy once more, oblivious to the glances being passed amongst the Weasleys. Instead of shoving him into her pocket, she held him cupped in her hands, held near her as she led the way out of the chamber.

Ron sighed as he followed closely behind his brothers. "First Snape, then Malfoy. I'm telling you, mates, she's falling for all the wrong sorts of people nowadays." Without even turning around, Hermione called out, "I can still hear you, Ron!"

Ron blushed, nearly colliding into the wall when Fred nudged him playfully in the ribs as the younger Weasley made his way to the front. Map in hand, he tossed a glance at Draco in passing, wishing more than ever that he could just give him a good hard flick across the room.

* * * * * *

He wasn't sure how long he had been out, but when Harry awoke he found himself extremely exhausted. The effort he had exerted in his earlier struggle, as well as the toll the Cruciatus Curses had taken on his body finally caught up with him. He lay with one hand stretched above his head, the other encircling his chest to stifle the movement of his cracked ribs. Moaning quietly he brought his hand up to his face, gently prodding the swollen bruises that had recently manifested. Even the slightest pressure on his broken nose caused tears to well up in his eyes.

Finally he forced himself up onto his knees, only to realize that the bones in one of his ankles had snapped in his fall. Harry fell forward onto his chest with a hiss of pain, gently twisting himself around into a sitting position. His back against the wall, he brought his good leg up into his chest, and laced his fingers atop his knee. As satisfactory a pillow that he was going to get, he laid his forehead atop it, willing himself to try and get some sleep.

It wasn't much later when the Death Eaters finally came to collect him from his cell. He eyed them warily when they entered, unable to focus on their hooded faces. "Get up, Potter," one commanded with a voice that Harry hadn't heard since…that night, in the graveyard... "Our Master is ready for you once more." Harry glared, absently rubbing his ankle.

"I can't. Somehow my ankle got broken." With a wave of his wand, the Death Eater commanded, "Reparo Talosus." Instantly Harry's ankle was healed, as was his nose that had been shattered by Crabbe's unyielding fist. He was then lifted up onto his feet, where he turned with an outstretched hand to search behind him blindly.

"Wait! I need my glasses--" The Death Eater shoved him across the threshold of the cell in response. "You'll have time enough to get them when you come back later. Now move it." Harry gulped audibly at the Death Eater's reply as they neared the staircase. On the other hand, it means I'm not going to die just yet…

Harry stumbled up the steps as he was goaded along, unable to judge the distance between them without his glasses. Nearing the top, he stumbled over a step, lurching forward suddenly. His head struck against the concrete step, gasping as he felt another gash forming. Harry then mused bitterly that this was perhaps the first time in his life that he actually wanted to see Madame Pomfrey. He was just as quickly jerked to his feet again, then dragged up the last remaining steps.

Harry winced against the sudden bright light, guessing they were back in Voldemort's chambers. Sure enough, he was thrown at the Dark Lord's feet moments after entering. Hauled to his knees, Harry felt himself begin to tremble as he was placed under Voldemort's gaze. Even without glasses, Harry was close enough to the other wizard to ascertain by his expression that he was quite pleased with what he saw.

Bent over, Voldemort slowly examined Harry's battered body, taking in all the cuts and gashes which marred his now bloodstained features. "Goyle and Crabbe always do such an excellent job," he mused almost reverently, admiring a particularly dark bruise on Harry's cheekbone, "but, then again, they don't have quite the ability that I do, wouldn't you agree?" Harry remained silent, his unwavering stare confronting Voldemort's.

The Dark Lord stood up straight, taking out his wand. Harry watched it closely, wary of its every movement. Noting this, Voldemort sighed. "Do relax, Potter, there will be no unwarranted punishment…not yet, anyway. I've brought you up from your cell for a reason. There's a certain matter I'd like to discuss with you."

Idly fingering his wand, Voldemort began to slowly pace in front of Harry. "Would you like to achieve greatness, Potter, I mean truly achieve greatness, based not on who you are, but what you've become?" Jaw clenched, Harry remained silent. "Still not talking, are we? No matter. It was a foolish question, after all--of course you'd like to become the greatest wizard who ever lived, more powerful than Dumbledore or myself, even. Who wouldn't?"

Parting his lips, the voice that came from Harry sounded cracked and bitter. "I wouldn't."

Voldemort smiled in surprise, the action pulling his thin, bloodless lips taut across his face. "Oh, no? I find that very hard to believe." Harry narrowed his gaze in response.

"It's the truth. Why would I ever want to become a power-hungry murderer like you? You call yourself a great wizard, yet you've done nothing great for our world or that of the Muggles. Albus Dumbledore--"

"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest fool who ever lived, nothing more," Voldemort interrupted tersely, straightening to his full height. He had also stopped his pacing, glaring down at Harry once again. "Albus Dumbledore could have had everything, but he chose the wrong side to ally himself with when the initial battlelines were drawn so many years ago. Now he sits idly behind a desk in his last days, conjuring up lesson plans for ignorant whelps such as yourself instead of ways in which to eradicate the muggles and the half-breed mudbloods once and for all. How can he be the greatest when his own students aren't afraid of him?!"

"You fear him," Harry stated matter-of-factly, quite amused when the opposing wizard ruffled visibly at the remark.

"You're wrong--it is not him I fear, but his abilities, for he is my equal on the battlefield. I speak of wizards so great and powerful that the mere mention of their names causes the masses to quake with fear. That's the power I speak of, Harry, the greatness that I can help you achieve, if you were to accept my tutelage in the Black Arts…" he paused, his cold eyes chilling Harry to the spine, "…along with the Dark Mark."

Before Harry could protest, Voldemort held up his hand to silence him. "Before you answer, I'm willing to offer you an…exchange, of sorts." He eyed Harry's reaction, a mixture of curiosity and disgust. Voldemort then brought attention to his wand, which he now twirled between his fingers. "Did you know that which can take life away can also give it back?" he asked, glancing at Harry.

"What are you getting at?" Harry asked as he eyed the wand, not quite sure what Voldemort was leading up to.

"This. You give me what I want most, in this case your allegiance, and I'll give you what you want most--" From where he stood Voldemort muttered a few words under his breath, and flicked his wand across the room. Harry spun around on his knees, a faintly shimmering image twice his height appearing before him. He squinted furiously to see what it was, only able to make out small details here and there. He needn't have looked any longer, because a soft voice soon answered his question.

"…Harry…"

Harry swallowed thickly around the sudden lump in his throat, scrambling to his feet. "…Mum?" He now stood mere inches from the faces of his parents' ghosts, their hands reaching out to him. Harry shakily drew his hand forth towards the spectral images.

In the instant his fingers brushed against his mother's frigid yet solid palm did Harry gasp loudly, recoiling his hand to his chest. Clutching at where his heart thudded madly, he turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut. "You're lying," he called to Voldemort, unable to hide the tears in his voice.

"You have to trust me, Harry, I can make this happen for you. Just give me your word--"

"No!" he shouted, "You're lying! I won't fall for some parlor trick--" It was the voice of his father that made Harry's tearing eyes snap open. "He's telling the truth, son. We can be a family again. I know it's a great sacrifice, but we can be together…forever." James' translucent form cupped a hand against his son's cheek, drawing him into an embrace. Harry began to shake his head, tearing away from his father as he whirled on Voldemort.

"This isn't real! My parents would never consent to me joining forces with you, no matter what you offered me! This whole thing is a lie!" he screamed, shaking fists clenched at his sides. Eyes flashing, Voldemort brought up his wand towards the images and quickly jerked it to the side. Harry turned and caught a glimpse of his mother's and father's faces briefly before the vision dissipated into a vaporous mist.

Voldemort angrily strode over to Harry, backhanding him across the face in one fluid motion. Harry fell to his knees again, wiping at the blood from his split lip. The Dark Lord then grabbed Harry by the shoulders, violently shaking him as he spoke.

"Was it all a lie, Harry? Was it?" His face then curled into a sneer, eyes flashing angrily. "Of course, you'll never know, now, will you? Never know if I was telling the truth, never know the happiness you could've had, had you only listened to your father." Harry sank back defeatedly onto his heels when he was released, only to have a wand aimed at him a brief moment later.

"Ennervate Infinitus."

Perplexed by the spell and its lack of instantaneous effects, Harry eyed Voldemort warily. "What did you do to me?" he asked shakily, fear creeping on the edge of his words.

Voldemort smiled vindictively. "I've placed a perpetual awakening spell on you, whose effects are limitless, from what I've heard." He peered down at Harry, still unsure as to what had been done to him. "Close your eyes."

Harry's heart skipped at beat at the command, but reluctantly did so. The instant his eyes had closed however, they were snapped back open again. Panicking, he tried to shut them a second time, only to have the same thing happen. "Why can't I close my eyes? What've you done to me?"

Smiling coldly, Voldemort bent over until he was nose to nose with Harry, his breath hot against the boy's face. "Nothing much. Just a simple spell to insure you won't pass out so soon after what I'm about to do to you."

Voldemort suddenly dug his nails into Harry's jaw, effectively immobilizing the young wizard's head. "You've defied me once today, Potter, and that's more than enough to warrant a lesson in pain. Also, your stupidity and inability to place faith in others has just caused you to make, by far, the most foolish decision of your life. I'm giving you one last chance, Potter: Will you or will you not accept the Dark Mark?"

He slowly brought his middle and index finger up towards Harry's forehead, relishing the way in which his eyes closely followed their movement. Harry's eyes darted about madly as he thought about his answer. Then, in a small yet defiant voice, he replied, "…no."

Harry's head jerked back as he screamed in anticipated pain. Voldemort clenched his teeth as his fingers pressed harder and harder onto Harry's scar. The young boy tried desperately to squeeze his eyes shut, but they remained open against his will. Tears clouded his vision even further, and he was unable to blink them away. He wanted more than anything to pass out cold, but instead he remained painfully conscious. He could only sob uncontrollably as Voldemort held his fingers in place, refusing to let up on the pressure.

"…please stop…" Harry cried out weakly in between shuddering breaths, and to his surprise, Voldemort did.

"Stop? Not until you experience the pain I went through when your bitch mother so foolishly decided to use herself as a shield against me!" Harry was then backhanded with a closed fist before the pressure upon his scar resumed once more. He couldn't help but release another scream from his painfully sore throat, his eyes wide and unseeing as agony ripped through every nerve of his body. Harry felt his body begin to spasm, as he'd never been conscious that long under Voldemort's touch. Suddenly a pain like no other tore through his skull and a hot, blinding, light erupted before his eyes.

His scar had split open.

A piercing scream forced its way from Harry's mouth, shrill enough to rival that of any banshee on the isle. Harry could only moan weakly as he felt his eyes begging to roll back into his head. But, he was to have no such release. His hands uselessly clawed at that Voldemort had clenched around his jaw, hands shaking too badly to function effectively. When he felt blood begin to trickle down his cheek, the pressure finally released.

Harry whimpered in relief and slumped forward onto Voldemort, unable to maneuver his body anywhere else. His gasping sobs shook his frame, unable to take a decent breath of air. "…why…are you doing this…to me?" he cried, his voice rumbling from within the folds of the Dark Lord's robe. Voldemort gently grasped his shoulders and pushed him forward, looking at Harry in mock concern.

"I'm sorry, have I hurt you? Perhaps this will make it feel better." Still holding onto him, Voldemort leaned in and lightly kissed Harry's scar, as would a caring mother. Harry's head snapped back as he shrieked in agony, the pain of the touch mirroring that of his Doppleganger. Voldemort pulled back, lips flecked with Harry's blood. Though the Dark Lord still held onto him, Harry sagged forward once more, his eyes locked onto Voldemort's as tears flowed heavily down his face.

Voldemort grinned, his eyes flashing as he stared intently into Harry's gaze. Flicking his tongue out, Voldemort then licked the blood from his lips, savoring its rich taste. Harry turned his head and whimpered, averting his gaze in disgust. He then felt a finger gently swipe at his scar again. The young wizard watched as Voldemort studied his blood-slicked fingers intently, slowly rubbing his thumb and forefinger together as he relished in how the red fluid traced the outline of his fingerprints. Voldemort lowered his voice, his tone cold and menacing.

"Much like the esteemed Countess de Bathory will I bathe in your life's essence, child, and rise anew stronger and more formidable an opponent than ever before. Today's lessons in pain were only the beginning of what you owe me for all those years of suffering and humiliation I've had to endure since that fateful night you entered into my very existence. I promise you that tomorrow, the real blood games will begin."

Releasing Harry, he stood up, letting the half-conscious boy collapse forward onto the floor. He summoned for the two Death Eaters positioned outside the door, who promptly entered and moved to haul Harry back to his cell. Harry's eyes burned from the onslaught of stinging tears, and from being unable to close them. Crossing the threshold of Voldemort's chambers, he heard the Dark Lord call out, "You could have had it all, Potter, but now you'll have nothing."

Harry took in a shuddering breath, fresh tears flowing from his eyes as he considered his words.

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Gee, was that brutal or what? Bad Voldie, baaaaaad….

Okay, you got me. Some of those spells were made up (like you couldn't tell). Y'all are too smart for that ;) But, just for your info alone:

Duodecresium I got from the Latin (translation website, that is, so feel free to sue me for inaccuracies--or don't, 'cause I ain't got a dime on me) duo or two (as in two-inches), and descresio meant to decrease in size or make smaller. So, 'shrink to two inches,' essentially. And Reparo Talosus? Well, reparo we all know, but talus meant 'ankle bone' (how nice that they were so specific about it!) and os bone, so I just kinda melded them into talosus. Can I even do that? Sure! It's fanfiction, where apparently anything goes! Yay!!

Some of you have expressed worry that Harry will not be, how shall I say this?, intact come the end of this story. Well, not to worry! This isn't a 'surprise' character death story, because if I don't return them to JKR the way in which they were lent to me (i.e. not folded, spindled, or mutilated), then she just might sue me on the grounds of child abuse and neglect. Or not, 'cause it's late, and that sounded like a good reasoning, no? Heh. Suuuure it did….::just nod your head slowly and walk away backwards:: ~8] And no, I haven't forgotten about the Doppleganger, in case y'all were wondering. He's still lurkin' about somewhere…Muah-ha-ha!!!

Annnnd (Good Goddess, this is long…) as for who the Countess de Bathory is, well, I haven't time or the place really to explain it here (although I really, really want to!), but I will in the next A/Ns, unless you wanna email me and I'll just tell ya there. Oh, and if you've noticed that Voldemort's snake-like lisp has gone away, well, it has--for now anyway. Too much trouble with the spellcheck, and I swear if I took the time to put the extra 's's in all the right place my eyes would fall out if after writing all that…GAK!

OOHH, look! The "Bold and the Beautiful"! Tee hee!

Rolllll Calllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Je suis le Vampire Lestat! Tarawen! Iris Iolani! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! Lady of Arundel! ArchArtist/Writer! Breea! Lassy D! Kim! Urania! Quoth the Raven! Melanie! Katma! AAAANNNNNDDDDD Mel!