A/N: Hey! Ok, keeping this short so I can go post. It's been forever. This isn't very long, like you desrve, so I'm sorry. :o( But, here tis!

:o)



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"What?" Draco Malfoy sneered, holding up the bath towel around his waste with his left hand and placing his right hand haughtily on his waste. "Couldn't get your own action so you decided to barge in on mine?" He paused, looking them up and down. "Why are you covered in blood?"

Dean, Nar, and Guy were too speechless to reply. They only stood there, gaping like idiots while Nar's eyes twitched even more furiously than before. "Mal-Malfoy," Guy stammered, finding his vocal chords somewhat intact. "Wha-what are y-you doing?"

"Well, Wimsdale, I was having some fun with Zabini's little sister. I could ask you the same thing."

Guy scowled. "It's Wimsdon," he replied shortly. "And I don't owe you any explanation."

"I think that you do," Draco said, raising a shapely eyebrow. "It's my house, whatever your last name may be. And in case you've forgotten, a certain group of black-cloaked wizards like to think of it as home as well."

Nar gulped. His eye stopped twitching.

"Malfoy, please," Dean pleaded, going to grab Draco's shoulders and then recoiling after thinking it over. "You can't..."

"I can."

"You can't."

"Thomas, I can and I will."

"No, really, Malfoy. You can't."

"And why's that, Thomas?" Draco seemed awfully amused. It irked the three Gryffindors.

Dean sighed, whipping out his wand to a shocked Draco. With a blasé wave of his wand hand, he said, "Do I have to spell it out for? We're going to make you."

Draco nearly gasped, but it was only a moment before he collected himself with beady eyes and a lazy smirk. "Oh, c'mon, Thomas. You can't make me, Wimsal can't make me, and Litkins certainly can't."

Guy growled. "WIMSDON."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever."

"I most certainly can," Dean said calmly. He yawned.

Draco snorted. "What are you going to do, hex me? Clean-cut Thomas? Are you going to make me vomit snails? Because that's the worst that you're capable of, and honestly, it's unoriginal. Weasley already screwed up that feat."

Dean seemed bored. It was grating on Draco's nerves. "You can come along, knowing that any wrong step and I'll use a few nifty illegal curses." Draco made a scoffing sound in his throat.

"Or what?" he sniffed.

"Or I'll use the Imperius curse right now."

Draco narrowed his eyes, sizing Dean up, The two locked eyes, Draco's gray pair locked intently with Dean's brown set. "You wouldn't," Draco drawled quietly, a daring note in his tone.

"Is that a risk," Dean breathed, "that you're willing to take?"

Neither boy blinked.





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They were being led down a corridor identical to nearly every other one in the Manor leaving Harry and Ron absolutely no idea as to where they were going. Harry desperately wanted to talk to Ron, to see if maybe he could shed some light on their location, but that was impossible for obvious reasons. Harry had an itch to the left of his belly button. He couldn't even roll his eyes.

"Lost? Yer got us lost?" the one referred to as Gordy bellowed at Joel. "Wos yer problem, Joel? Yuv ben workin' 'ere fer ten dang years. How didya get lost?"

"Stop yellin'!" Joel hollered, stopping abruptly in the hall. Ron banged against the ground as Joel did so. "'Am doin' the bes' that I can!" he frowned, staring Gordy down, and then he nodded down a corridor turning sharply to the left. "There. That's where we're goin' ta," he announced, continuing to drag Ron.

Harry sighed as he was bumped against the ground as well-but mostly out of fear. He had hoped that perhaps Gordy and Joel, the two buffoons that they were, would get horribly lost and give up. That didn't seem too promising at the moment. As they turned the corner, the edge of the wall jammed into Harry's stomach; internally, he winced, and thought words that should never be spoken aloud by a boy of his age.

Joel propped open a door whose inside was darker than the dimly-lit halls. Harry's stomach churned. What if Hermione was hurt? What if she was...? Harry would have shook his head sharply, if he hadn't been under the Body Bind and hadn't been dropped fiercely against the ground once inside. He lay limp beside Ron.

Motionless and aching on the tile floor, Harry was terrified. His scar was beginning to ache and he knew the explosions of pain would burst through his forehead and devour his entire body in a matter of minutes. He wondered if he could break the Body Bind-if the excruciating pain was enough to make him writhe. It was a dark thought. It intrigued him. His scar throbbed dangerously.

As the lights flickered on, also came a voice.

"Why--won't--you--die?!"

Professor Daniel Chavez stood over the fallen body of a middle-aged gentleman, kicking him soundly in the ribs and face with each staggered word.

The young professor glanced up at Harry and Ron's still bodies briefly, and did a doubletake. "Oh, hello Harry. Mr. Weasley." And he kicked the fallen man again in the chest.

"Hallo, Harry," said a boy's voice from... above?!

"Shh," another voice urged him.

Despite the Body Bind, Harry was positive that he blinked. He blinked very hard.





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"Last time I checked, the Dark Lord resembled a decaffeinated snake-man with pink eye."

"Shhh!"

"And he didn't exactly have a human body. Or impatience. Or a goddamn clipboard!"

"Shhh!"

"And-"

"Shut up, would you?!"

Dani fell silent as he followed Artura Alexis down yet another corridor. She laid her hand on his chest, signaling him to stop as the man they were in pursuit of rounded the corner up ahead. "All right, come on," she whispered, and Dani obeyed.

"We're, like, thirty yards away. I could be jumping on his back in five seconds. If this is really the Dark Lord, then c'mon, let me-"

"Dani," Lexa said sternly. "It really isn't the time for your macho business."

He shrugged. "Point taken."

"Listen," she whispered, flattening her back against the plaster wall as Tom Riddle turned the corner. "He has gotten strong. Very strong. I didn't expect for him to be in his mortal body in just a year, but he is. That's what he looks like." Dani's mouth formed an O; she tugged him forward and they crawled along the wall, silent and unnerved.

Thirty seconds of silence passed. Finally, Dani leaned forward, his hushed voice tickling the lobes of Lexa's ears. "Do you think he's going to Harry?"

Lexa wordlessly nodded. They went on.



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"Honestly," drawled none other than Draco Malfoy. "Do you have to watch me?"

Guy gritted his teeth, cracking his knuckles gratingly against the bedpost. Beneath the sheets lay a hostile, and yet seemingly interested, blonde girl with smeared lipstick. "Trust me," he said disdainfully. "I'd rather eat Weasley's regurgitated snails." The blonde arched her perfectly formed brows. "And then excrete them into a pile of dungbeetles." She cringed. "And then eat that."

"I get it," Draco said grumpily. He pulled his trousers up over his pale legs and fumbled with the buckle. Jas Zabini watch intently, giggling frivolously at each snap of the belt. "Would you shut it?" Draco snapped, reaching for a shirt. "It's bad enough that I have to dress in front of Wimsdale."

"Wimsdon, isn't it?" said Jas lightly, rolling over in the sheets.

Guy blushed and nodded furiously.

"Try to pick up girls at your own house, would you?"

"Shut up, Malfoy."

Dean's voice sounded from the other side of the thick mahogany door. "All right in there?"

"Peachy," Guy replied dryly, flopping onto the bed. His back straightened as he jumped back, realizing whom he had landed on. "Er, sorry." More giggling.

"If you're done with Zabini, I'm all dressed," Draco sighed. His khaki trousers wrinkles from the knees to his shoes where they, uncuffed, spilled over his ankles. His light blue shirt was disheveled, buttons in the wrong hole up to his chest, where he apparently gave up. His face wore an expression that seemed to be more tired than angry.

"Let's go, then," said Guy, jamming his hands in his pockets and nudging his head in the direction of the door. With an exasperated sigh, Draco followed.

"Took you long enough," Dean snorted. He and Nar were relaxed, slouching against the wall with a dull disinterest. "Two garbage guys came by. Asked us what we were doing here."

Draco tilted his chin forward. "And what'd you tell them?"

"That we we were waiting for you to put your clothes back on after your sexual exploit," Nar supplied. Draco's face showed mortification for a moment, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

"I see," he said, face set. "Where to?"

Dean's face hardened. "Where is Harry?"

"Ah," Draco said lightly, slowly inhaling. "Potter. Why didn't you say something before? Right this way." As he strolled down a red-carpeted corridor, his back was turned so that he didn't see Guy attempt to lunge at him and get held back by Dean and Nar. Barely.



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They paused hesitantly down the hall from where the alleged Lord Voldemort had just walked into. Lexa and Dani, huddled together against the plaster wall, were conscious of the ruckus they were making-Dani exhaled loudly while Lexa took sharp intakes, alternating, as so that there was never moderate silence.

"Should we follow?" Dani finally asked. He glanced down at Lexa, whose lips were pursed. Her eyes glared at a random spot on the opposite wall. Beside hung a painting of a sword, as sharp as their breath and shined to perfection. It was embedded with emeralds and diamonds, a sign of Slytherin pride. Dani shuddered.

"Yes," Lexa said quietly, but she didn't move.

"Well?"

Lexa nodded, and they ran at full speed through the open doorway. The room inside was dimly lit. As their eyes readjusted and they made out the scene, they skidded to a halt.

Three Gryffindor seventh years, all covered in blood, were suspended high in the air, arms and legs tied with a boy's clothing. Lord Voldemort, in his mortal form, stood with his wand at his hip and a lopsided smile. But the shocking part was the Slytherin afloat with the Gryffindors, who glided into a chandelier and chose this moment to lose grasp of his white bath towel.

"Sorry, Draco," Riddle said coolly. "Next time I'll get real ropes."

Malfoy blushed. He blushed all over.



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Hi! First, to clear up some confusion, they DID dress Malfoy, but Voldemort used Malfoy's clothes to tie everyone up. They are floating by the ceiling by 'Wingardium Leviosa,' I imagine.

The next chapter is the last (I'll either include the epilogue with it, or publish that as a diff chapter, but you get it, right?). So. yeah. I'm sorry this has taken so long. It's short, but I couldn't let you wait any longer. I love you all, please forgive Escritora. With Turkey Break coming up soon I should be able to update my other stories as well.

I'll post this now before I waste anymore time. :o)

~Tori