History Repeats Itself by Asha Dreamweaver.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's notes: Thank you SO much for the great feedback. And as so many of you commented I am evil and yes, I was sorted into Slytherin on the official Harry Potter website.

Thanks to all those who reviewed! Please continue doing so!

Fair Lady Ravenclaw – Thank you! Being evil is always fun! Yes, I'm a Slytherin and proud of it! Will Harry go back in time during the explosion? Sorry, no. I have to torture him more first and I have plans for his *extremely* big exit!

Scarlett – I am so in love with your story. UPDATE!!!!!!!

atalante – Thanks! I am glad that you think my version of Dumbledore is realistic!

ADJ – You're so sweet! I will try and explain the M.A.Ts score. As for Sirius Black, I'll be mean and say which one? Wait and see.

Katherine – Thank you so much for the review! Sevie's aura? Will be explained in time, I can't give a way a major bit of my plot, can I? Harry join Voldemort? NO WAY, though he's sure going to cause trouble for him. Will Dumbledore find out about the slayers? Dunno, depends on where the fic takes me.

ExCaLiBeR – Thanks for the review! And Dumbledore thinks he's going to win. As for what Sev is, you're going to have to wait. Sorry! *Ducks flying projectiles*

Starkitty – The orby thingy. Oh you're close, very close. All will be explained in this chapter. Enjoy!

Seer-Cassandra – Are you EVER planning on updating? Or do I have to nag you until you do? Yes, Halloween should be good. But then again you already know that.

Lynlyn – Thanks for reviewing. I can see why you don't like Harry to be public enemy number one but hopefully, it won't be that way forever. Of course, it must get worse before it gets better. And as for the infrequent displays of power, he has to watch himself around Dumbledore but I can promise you a lot more little incidents!

Tom – Yes, I know I have to elaborate on the MATs scores. Consider it a little oversight that will be remedied. As for the ritual, you are very, very close. A sentimental Dark Lord? Somehow I can't see Voldie giving up his torturing sessions for a psychiatrist's office. Waaay too weird. I'm really glad you liked the last scene! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Sylph-san – I'm glad you like my fic! The Lady will be given more definition in time but I assure you she's not going to be what she seems and definitely not a Mary Sue. I'm happy that you think my portrayal of Dumbledore is realistic, it's nice to know that I can be convincing.

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Chapter 5: Shackled

Utter chaos.

That was the only way you could describe Hogwarts at the present time. Hovering about a foot above their heads were tonnes of rubble, held at bay only by the force of Harry's will, a will that was slowly faltering under repeated exposure to the Cruciatus curse. But there was no way that he was going to die like this, not a chance. He planned on going out with a bang not being buried alive while under an Unforgivable.

That deep, dark core of destructive magic that he'd kept hidden for so long was still there, pulsing beneath his skin, in his very blood and he knew that he could never return it to where it had once resided. It was here to stay. He had little to no control over it but he was nothing but persistent, blocking out the pain from his senses, he concentrated on both keeping the roof from caving in and on getting Dumbledore as far away from him as possible.

He was on his knees now, unused to handling such a large amount of power. Slowly, very slowly, he reached into the well of magic inside of him and gathered it, painstakingly moulding it into something he could use. His eyes were closed now, and he didn't see what happened next.

A cloud of black magic interlaced with green mist swirled around his body, and a few thin tendrils of ebony snaked away from Harry and headed towards the stunned beyond belief headmaster. They closed around him, trapping him in their dark embrace and they picked him up, throwing him across the room. He landed with a thud, eerily loud in the silent room, silent save for the groaning, creaking noises of the concrete over their heads.

The teachers were the first to recover, Severus jumping off his chair and yelling for the students to get out. Seeing the normally unflappable Potions Master lose his cool, they were even more terrified and scrambled to obey. The Head of Slytherin House could see that Harry was rapidly losing strength and that the floating roof wasn't going to stay airborne for much longer.

Harry waited until the room was clear of students and most of the teachers, Rayne had been first out of the door – the big coward - and Dumbledore was trying to get there but he didn't care about the old man's safety. He was tired and he was not going to hold the ceiling up anymore. With a colossal roar, it cascaded down, turning some of the castle into a scene of pure destruction as the structure was drastically weakened. The only spot that was clear of debris was a three-foot radius around Harry. Fortunately Ron – who had fainted from terror by this time – was included in his little circle of safety, though not intentionally.

The slayer staggered to his feet, exhaustion beginning to creep up on him. His body still ached from prolonged exposure to Cruciatus, which didn't help at all. The black cloud withdrew into his body as he stood and Dumbledore deemed it safe to rush back in.

The headmaster and most of the faculty surrounded him with wands at the ready, though quite a few were shaking. Only the Heads of House had remained behind in more structurally sound parts of the castle to comfort and control their distraught and panic-stricken students.

Wearily, Harry opened his eyes, which still shone with that unnatural green colour. Unconsciously he slipped into a defensive stance, ready to fight even if he did want nothing more than to collapse into a bed and sleep for the next three years.

While his guard was down, Dumbledore signalled to the teachers and they all started casting curses and hexes at him. Harry managed to divert and block most of them but again; a particularly strong one from Dumbledore took him down. Vines whipped around the slayer's body, entangling him in their folds. He almost instantly recognised the plant from his first year – Devil's Snare! Damn that coot! His wand was still in his holster, he couldn't reach it and he was so very tired... And the teachers were still trying to stupefy him, he had been able to block all the spells so far but he couldn't do it forever. Desperately he tried to summon some fire but there was something pushing against his magic, resisting his will.

Another spell by the headmaster and Harry felt as if he was suffocating, as if someone had cut off the very air he needed to breath. With a start, he realised that Dumbledore had been able to temporarily block the majority of his magic! He was going to kill him when he got his hands on him! How in Merlin's name was he supposed to fight against their spells now?! He doubted his success but that damn smug expression on the headmaster's face caused him to fight against it. 

Harry yelled and thrashed, trying to use brute strength to break out of the bonds. His magic may have been restrained for now but he sure as hell wasn't going down without a fight. Finally, the Devil's Snare started to give way, unable to take the strain but Dumbledore saw what was happening and strengthened them even further. Harry found himself immobilised within seconds, every limb tightly bound. He struggled but the vines only held him tighter. He eventually had to settle for glaring at Dumbledore, hard green eyes promising a painful death for this humiliation. His chest heaved from his exertions but he began working on beating down the wards that were temporarily restraining his magic. If he could break them, then he could get loose.

Dumbledore turned to Professor Vector, "Fetch some of the Order members," he commanded. The man scurried to obey. Then he turned back to the still struggling Harry, whose eyes glowed brighter than ever and whose glare was so murderous as to unnerve even him. "Just what were you thinking Mr Potter? Dark magic? You could be expelled for this, maybe even sent to Azkaban," he said in that infuriating – in Harry's opinion anyway – I-know-everything voice he used so much.

"I knew I should have crushed you!" Harry snarled, anger coming off him in waves.

"Not even Tom Riddle did this much damage to my school. Do you really want to be like him? After all I've done to keep you safe?" Harry had to give the headmaster due credit, the man was a brilliant actor. A pity that Harry could see through him. Dumbledore looked like a stern grandfather, disappointed in his charge and chastising him appropriately.

Cool emerald eyes locked onto twinkling blue ones, "Safe? Keep me safe? Out of the goodness of your heart? Wrong headmaster, you want a tool. Someone that can help you take care of Voldemort, of the boy you feel you failed. I'm nobody's pawn. I have no intention of becoming your lapdog." With that he resumed his task of breaking the highly complicated – and illegal - spell, ignoring the shocked and angered expression on the headmaster's face.

"What changed you Harry?"

"Power is power Professor and I've just discovered I have it."

"Like Tom Riddle?"

Harry glared at Dumbledore, "I have more important things to worry about than Voldemort. If you're so powerful, go and kill him yourself. I'm a pawn for you no longer."

Dumbledore was beginning to lose his facade of calmness, "You're being irrational Harry, it's just the stress, I'm sure that...." He never got to finish because Harry interrupted him.

"How long did it take before he cracked? Definitely before his sixth year. Tell me, how did it feel casting the Cruciatus on him, along with a multitude of other curses? Does it feel good to treat people like pawns? You made Tom Riddle who he is, headmaster. Were you going to try and do the same to me? Because I won't allow it."

Dumbledore's twinkling orbs had turned into chips of blue ice and his grasp on his wand tightened. "Have you been listening to Tom's lies again Harry?" he asked, his tone frigid and forbidding.

"What need was there to do that? All that was needed was some investigation and his words were verified. And if they hadn't been, I think the present state of affairs would have proved my theory."

Dumbledore didn't answer, as the requested Order of the Phoenix members arrived. He talked to them in low voices but Harry heard everything. They had something planned, he could tell. Undoubtedly something unpleasant. Well, he might be experiencing a little crisis at the moment but he wasn't going to just lie there and accept what was coming.

Under his breath, he began speaking in Parseltongue, an ability that Dumbledore couldn't negate. He could easily work the Serpensortia spell without the wards mattering at all. He wondered if he could do the same with other spells but dismissed it for a later date, he didn't have the time to experiment at the moment.

The snake materialised in the in between two large chunks of concrete. It was beautiful. At least in Harry's eyes anyway. Large, rivalling Nagini in size, it had green and silver hued scales, large pearly white fangs, dripping with some poison and forest green eyes – exactly how Harry had visualised it. Hissing out a command, - "Attack the old white haired man." – he watched gleefully as it slithered through the debris and launched itself at the headmaster.

Unbeknownst to Harry, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had arrived in time to witness Harry's act of destruction. Finding out what had happened from one of the teachers, they had raced to the hall, convinced that Harry couldn't have done something so awful. They found themselves at a loss for words when they saw Harry tightly bound and trying to glare a hole through the people restraining him.

Remus' nose twitched as he picked up on another scent in the room, one of the side affects of being a Werewolf. The scent wasn't human and it was coming from near Harry. He looked intently at the livid teenager, who lips were moving and quickly figured out what was happening. He hastily explained to Sirius, who wore an Order uniform and mask to keep his identity a secret and then made his way over to the headmaster to tell him. So that was how they were there when chaos erupted for the second time.

The snake tried to bite the human who had dared hurt its master but the old wizard showed surprising agility when he dodged out of the way, aided by Remus tugging on his arm. The defeater of Grindelwald had a nasty spell on his lips when Harry called off the snake.

The boy hissed at the serpent, "He'll kill you if you persssissst in attacking him. Essscape and go tell what happened to the Basssilisssk in the Chamber of Sssecretsss. He can help get me loossse. Go!" The snake obeyed, slinking away before it too could be caught.

Noticing the somewhat homicidal look gracing the headmaster's face, Harry decided to throw caution to the wind and see if his earlier theory rang through. Again switching to Parseltongue, he began trying to perform a wandless spell in the snake-tongue. Not exactly his speciality. His eyes drooped closed in concentration and that was how he received the warning too late. The whistling air would normally have alerted him but it didn't register until after the event.

That's why he was so surprised when a dagger buried itself in his side.

Harry gasped as pain overtook his senses and doubled over from the impact, straining against the Devil's Snare. He tried in vain to remove the offending knife but the vines wouldn't let him move enough to reach it. Blood was pouring freely out of the wound. Too much blood. He was the slayer but it didn't mean blood loss wouldn't affect him, just not as soon as normal people.

Trying to recover his composure, he lifted his head to search out the person who had done this. And found himself staring down Dumbledore. The headmaster showed no remorse, even as some of the Order members gaped at him. Although most just looked at the fallen slayer with hard eyes.

"You sanctimonious bas****!" Harry ground out, "If you're going to kill me, at least do it right instead of treating me like a pincushion."

Dumbledore again refused to answer and Harry could feel himself getting woozy. The dagger must have done more damage than he first thought. There was a muttered word, "Stupefy," and then the world faded into blackness.

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~

Dumbledore looked dispassionately at the unconscious, bloodied figure lying on the floor. In his opinion, the boy was beginning to outlive his usefulness. Hearing a commotion nearby, he turned to look. Sirius Black was being held back by another of the Order members, incomprehension evident in his features. "Albus!" he cried once he saw the headmaster looking at him, "What did you do?!"

Sighing in annoyance, he went over to the escaped convict and tried to hammer his point through the animagus' thick skull. "Sirius," he said, affecting an air of great weariness and sorrow, "It would seem that Voldemort has finally gotten to Harry."

Sirius' eyes widened, "What? How? What happened here? Why did you hurt Harry?" he asked, the words tumbling out rapidly.

Remus laid a hand on Sirius' shoulder and he implored Dumbledore to continue. "Harry worked some extremely dark magic here today. It appears that Voldemort has brainwashed him to some extent, unless Harry actually went to him willingly, which is a possibility. He thinks that we are the enemy, he even tried to defend the Dark Lord, saying that it was my fault." He heaved a sigh, "I had hoped that it wouldn't come to this but today has proved beyond any doubt that Harry is a hazard. He cannot be allowed to run around unchecked anymore. As it is, I am going to have difficulties just keeping him at Hogwarts. By all rights, he should have been expelled, if not imprisoned for this stunt. The Ministry will demand explanations and what am I going to tell the students?"

"What do you plan on doing?" Remus asked.

"Well, Harry cannot be allowed to awaken until we have restrained him to some extent. We need to get the school repaired before the Dark Lord gets wind of our weakness. Also, we need to know if Harry has joined Voldemort so he will have to be questioned under Veritaserum. What happens after that will depend on Harry. I'm sorry Sirius, we did our best," he said, giving the stricken man a pitying look.

He walked away and Sirius leaned on Remus for support, "You-Know-Who? He went to You-Know-Who?" said in a lost voice, "Dear Merlin, James.... Lily... I failed them Moony."

"You didn't fail them Padfoot. Whatever Harry has done, it was his own choice. You know as well as I do that Imperius doesn't work on him."

"I just can't believe it. Harry, a Death Eater? It doesn't seem possible."

"You saw what he did Padfoot. Dumbledore is right, he has to be dealt with."

"I know, but it hurts."

"I know Padfoot, I know."

Dumbledore spotted Severus the moment he entered the ruined room. He called the spy over and pulled him aside, into a relatively quiet corner.

"Severus, has Potter gone to Voldemort?"

The Potions Master looked startled, "No, I haven't seen him at any meetings and if the Dark Lord had acquired Potter as a servant he would have been boasting about it."

The headmaster nodded, "It is as I thought then. I want you to take Potter to the cell I prepared a few weeks ago. Give him some potions for his wound and make sure he has restraints on. Some potions to keep him docile are going to be required as well."

Severus' eyes narrowed, "His wound?"

"He got out of hand. It's in his side; you will see what I mean. Do it now Severus," he said harshly. The spy nodded and swept away, black robes billowing behind him. Dumbledore ran a hand through his beard and began issuing instructions to the Order members. He wanted Potter dealt with as soon as possible. And he'd have to tell Minerva to deal with the youngest Weasley boy; the redhead was still floating in the hall.

~*~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~**~*~**

Severus kept his face in an impassive mask while he retrieved Harry. The boy was in a pitiful state really; no one had even bothered to dress the wound before now. Not that Dumbledore would care if Harry died, once he had gotten what he wanted first.

Flicking his wand, he removed the Devil's Snare – there was really no need for it when he was unconscious – and levitated the prone form and walked out of the hall, heading towards the isolated tower at the other side of the castle. The other students had been confined to their dormitories until the matter had been dealt with. It had been pandemonium trying to round up all the panicking children. Explanations still hadn't been given to them yet. They would have to wait until the teachers found out which lies Dumbledore wanted to feed them.

So that was how he was assured that he wouldn't encounter anybody on his way to the cell. All of the Order members would be trying to repair the damage to the school so that was them out of the way. He really didn't want to help Dumbledore hurt Harry but he had no choice. Until Harry returned, he had to pretend to be Dumbledore's lapdog, regardless of how much it galled him. Harry was a bright boy, with plenty of contacts. Severus was sure that he'd figure out how to circumvent the headmaster's plans, most likely with a healthy dose of revenge thrown in.

Scanning the corridors to make sure no one was there, he slowly cancelled the levitation spell, gently lowering the slayer to the floor. Being very careful, he scooped Harry up in his arms. Harry's present state tore at Sev's heart; it was so rare to see the slayer in such bad condition. Seeing him like this scared the Potions Master more than he could say, he didn't like being reminded that as the slayer, Harry could easily never come back one day, just like his many predecessors.

He chalked up the sudden lack of caution on his part and the overwhelming need to hold Harry close to that knowledge. He looked so vulnerable in Sev's arms.

Climbing the steps to the tower entrance, he went into the cell that Dumbledore had painstakingly prepared. It was nearly magic proof; only certain people who were keyed to the wards could use magic within these walls. There were no windows and the door faded into the wall as soon as it was closed, only able to be opened from the outside. The only piece of furniture was a bed with restraints.

He tenderly placed Harry on the bed, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Harry's skin was deathly pale, as well as cold and clammy from the blood loss so Severus knew he needed to address that problem first. Removing the dagger, he conjured some bandages to staunch the renewed bleeding and searched his robes for the vial he had brought with him. Finally finding it, he pulled out the milky-white potion designed to knit flesh back together and unstoppered it.

Slipping his hand beneath Harry's head and raising it, he poured the liquid into his mouth, rubbing his throat until Harry involuntarily swallowed. Peeling off Harry's robes and polo neck, he examined the wound. It was very ugly and deep but the potion combined with slayer healing abilities would have it mended before the day had passed. Cleaning away the blood, he rebandaged it and conjured a loose shirt onto Harry.

Picking up the dagger, he cast a strong cleaning charm on it. Slayer's blood was very potent, and it wouldn't do to let it fall into anybody's hands. Blood magic was a powerful tool and one that he didn't want Harry to get caught up in.

He also cast a cleaning charm on Harry; the young man had debris and dust from the cave-in all over him. He really couldn't blame Harry for flying off the handle, even though it was unusual for him to lose control so completely. The Magical Aptitude Tests had been an utter disaster for Harry and a triumph for Dumbledore. No wonder Harry hadn't wanted it spread all over the school, which the Weasley boy had done.

Most students only scored around 200, with some of the more intelligent ones scoring about 250. Severus himself had done exceptionally well when he'd taken them. He'd scored 463, a statistic that had made the Dark Lord very interested in him and had made his father drool at the thought of Severus getting into the Inner Circle at such a young age. Harry's score was a testament to his ability and potential as Tom Riddle himself had only managed to get 524. Rumour had it that even Dumbledore had only got around 350 and then had boosted his power when he defeated Grindelwald.

Unfortunately anyone with a score over 300 was placed on the Ministry's 'People to watch out for' list. Severus had only escaped Azkaban by agreeing to work for Dumbledore. His potion skills made him highly valuable. Then again, he might enjoy working at Hogwarts a little more if he actually had some freedom. Dumbledore was just another master like the Dark Lord and Severus was eagerly anticipating the day they were finally taken down.

It was with a heavy heart that he did his next task; he knew that Harry wouldn't just submit to what Dumbledore was planning and would in all likelihood only end up hurting himself unnecessarily. The Slytherin in him would tell him to acquiesce for the time being and go on the offensive as soon as he had a plan but the slayer side of Harry wouldn't let him. He'd fight and strain against the bonds and as much as it pained Severus to do this to him, it would be better than giving Dumbledore a reason to harm him again.

Removing two more vials from his robes, he fed them to Harry. One was a potion to make him lethargic and sluggish and the other was to cloud his senses so that he wouldn't be able to think straight. It would also serve to deaden his nerves, and hopefully any pain that Dumbledore's spell would inflict on him.

Gently manoeuvring Harry's limbs into position, he fastened the strong, magically reinforced leather straps around Harry's wrists, ankles and torso. He couldn't loosen them any, Dumbledore would only check them and any allowances on Severus' part would come back to haunt him.

Brushing a soft kiss against Harry's cheek, he stood up and left the room, inwardly damning Dumbledore to hell.

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*

Harry shifted restlessly in his drug and spell induced slumber as his mind was seized by an outside force.

^^^^^Dream sequence^^^^^

He was standing in the middle of a giant chessboard. Voldemort and his followers at one side in black, Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix opposite them in blinding white. He looked down at himself and found he was exactly in the middle, clad in grey. The symbolism couldn't be ignored.

Someone slipped an arm around his waist, warm breath tickling his ear, he stiffened, hands automatically flying to the stake in the waistband of his trousers but a strong hand clamped around his wrists, bringing them around until they were in front of his stomach once more. "None of that now," said the stranger in a silky baritone. Harry knew he recognised that voice from somewhere but he just couldn't place it. "Just watch and understand," the voice continued. Harry found himself relaxing almost involuntarily, as he was cradled against a strong chest. For some reason, this didn't affect him as much as it would have if he had been awake. Chalking it up to the dream, he began to pay attention as he suspected that this was one of those weird prophetic slayer dreams.

Almost as if sensing his interest, the chess pieces began to move. With a sudden awareness, he realised that it was a simplified version of the current war. The board was showing the current position of the various players and pawns. He tried to move but the stranger behind him held him back, "You can't move until you decide which side you're on," he said.

Harry was confused, "What do you mean?"

"You're on the board too," the voice purred, "You must choose whether to be a player or a pawn. Both sides want you with them but do you wish to go with them?"

Voldemort smirked at him from his side of the board, "Kill a few people and they call you a murderer. Kill a million and you're a conqueror," he said, "I can make you great. No one could match us."

Dumbledore spoke next, "He killed your parents. You have a duty to avenge them. I can help you there."

Harry looked at them in disbelief, surely that wasn't the best arguments that they could come up with. Before he could respond, the scenery changed and the board disappeared, to be replaced by a dark graveyard, filled with ominous fog. Obviously whatever caused these dreams happened to like clichés. A hand brushed against his cheek and he realised the newly dubbed 'mystery man' was still there and still holding him. "You're being hunted," he whispered.

"By who?"

"Everybody. And no one."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"It will."

Another figure stepped out of the shadows, and Harry recognised him immediately. Angel or more rightly Angelus. "Hello slayer," he drawled, "are you ready for me yet?" Once more Harry didn't get a chance to answer as the Scourge of Europe disappeared.

The man holding him spoke up, "It's coming. But you're not ready. You have to rely on your intuition or he'll rule you."

"Who's he?" Harry asked warily, "And for that matter, who are you?"

"As to whom I speak, I cannot tell and as for me, you'll find out in time."

"I'm not exactly the most patient of people," Harry snapped.

The man nuzzled his neck, "Perhaps not. But you are young yet, with much to learn." Harry gasped as sharp fangs pricked his neck, a vampire! But the man behind him had a heartbeat; he could hear and feel its rhythm. "Calm down," the man said, "Not everything is as it seems and not all who are Dark are Evil."

"Vampires don't have souls. They are demons and I dust them. Now let me go."

The man/vampire tightened his hold on the slayer, "Who said I was a vampire? I'm not dead, I have a soul and I don't drink blood. How can you tell me what I am?"

"Why do I feel like trusting you?"

"Because you can."

"Why are you here?"

"That's not for me to say."

"You're not helping, you know."

"Again, that's up to you." He traced the famous lightning bolt scar with his fingers, "And the Lightning shall strike," he murmured, brushing the bangs out of Harry's face. "We know who we are, but not what we may be." he continued softly, "Things will become clear. You just have to see."

Overall Harry felt that this dream was quite ominous but the stranger reassured him with gentle touches and a strong, comforting presence, which also succeeded in completely bewildering him. Pale hands turned him around and his mouth was captured in a searing kiss before he could make out the man's features....

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Harry's dream ended unexpectedly and his restless movements gave way to the drugs in his system, dragging him down into a deep, dreamless slumber.

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~

The head of the aurors skidded into Fudge's office. "Minister," he gasped, "There's been a disturbance at Hogwarts!"

Fudge looked up from his desk, momentarily abandoning his game of Exploding Snap. "What?! Don't be a fool man! That's impossible!"

"I can assure you it is sir, Harry Potter sta..."

"Harry Potter!" Fudge interrupted, "He's not been sprouting nonsense to the press again, has he?"

"No sir, Potter caused the disturbance. He..."

Once again the auror was cut off by Fudge, "Disturbance? What sort of disturbance? Why can't you say what you mean instead of going about it in such a roundabout way?"

Head Auror Pemberley sighed, he had thought that convincing the Minister for Magic would be a problem; he hadn't thought that it would be so hard to actually get him to listen though. "Minister," he began cautiously, "Mr Potter went into some sort of fit and blew the roof off of the Great Hall at Hogwarts." He braced himself for the inevitable explosion.

"WHAT?!" Fudge yelled, "How in Merlin's name did that happen? Where is the boy now? Oh dear, how am I going to explain this to the press?!" he whined.

"We're not quite sure what happened sir, but we do know that Headmaster Dumbledore brought Potter under control and is keeping an eye on him."

"Was it Dark Magic?"

"It would seem so. Few other things would have caused such an... effect."

"The Daily Prophet is going to skin me alive for letting him stay at that school," Fudge moaned, dropping his head into his hands. "I knew he was the one helping He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

"Minister," Pemberley said, "myself and the rest of the aurors feel that the Potter boy is a threat. Action needs to be taken."

"Yes, yes, I quite agree."

"We think that Potter should be expelled and sent to Azkaban."

"I've been wanting to put him there since his fourth year," Fudge said, "What does Dumbledore plan on doing with him?"

"We don't know sir, Hogwarts has been hard to contact. They have been trying to repair the damage."

"Well, let him handle it then! You can go and see what he wants to do and then do whatever you feel like to Potter. I cannot allow him to go unpunished, I would be impeached!"

"That's all I ask Minister."

"Is that all then?"

He received a nod, "Well go then! I've got to get a hold of Rita Skeeter!"

Pemberley nodded again and left the office, heading for the fireplace in the lobby.

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~

The Order of the Phoenix, at Dumbledore's behest, gathered in the cell, crimson robes on and hoods up, disguising their features. The bed had been moved into the centre of the room, with a small stone pedestal situated two feet away from it.

On that bed lay Harry Potter, still under the influence of the potions given to him. Dumbledore moved up to the pedestal, carrying in his arms a round glass orb. He held it gently, not wanting to damage the powerful object. This was a famed Orb of Thessulah, mainly used in magic that dealt with souls.

And that's what they were here tonight for. The Boy-Who-Lived had to be brought under control. And the best way to start was to bind the boy's magic. Without it, he would have no choice but to follow their orders. The problem was that Potter's magic was deep-rooted, bound to his very soul the day he reflected the Killing curse. That's where the orb came in. It was the only thing powerful enough to channel and contain the raw energy.

But they had to wait until Potter was somewhat conscious before beginning the ritual. They waited in silence until the object of their attention began to move restlessly, head lolling from side to side. Dumbledore, still standing by the pedestal, placed the orb on its marble surface and went to Harry's bedside.

Harry winced as he moved his head. It felt like he had been hit over the head with a boulder. A very large boulder. His head was fuzzy and his thought processes seemed excessively slow for some reason. Wracking his brain, he tried to figure out what was going on but try as he might, he kept coming up empty.

He tried reaching out with his senses, which came back with something that made the adrenalin flow through his veins and his brain to temporarily overcome the fog that filled it. He was tied down! Thick leather straps held him in place and immediately, he realised that this wasn't a good thing.

Trying to undo his bindings, he came to the terrifying realisation that he couldn't move his arms, couldn't even make his limbs twitch. He had obviously been given something to prevent him moving and a quick check told him that he had little to zero chance of using his magic effectively.

The odd lethargy and fuzziness probably meant that he'd been drugged or something. And thinking straight was getting harder by the minute. He remembered everything now, the incident in the Great Hall, the duel with Dumbledore, and the urge to kill the headmaster, which was growing by the minute. What was the old coot playing at?

He opened his eyes, almost instantly shutting them again as the bright light seared into his eyeballs and added to his ever growing list of woe. Tentatively he opened them again, despairing at how difficult it was to keep them open. His eyelids felt like lead and his body was urging him to sleep. The first thing he made out were rows of hooded figures, not Death Eaters in their all black uniforms but the Order of the Phoenix in crimson red, the colour of blood.

He could make out Dumbledore nearest to him but it was the next thing he saw that made him panic. The Orb of Thessulah. Oh no, they couldn't.... it was illegal, wrong and could be lethal to him. Unfortunately he wasn't in any fit state to prevent them from doing what they wished.

He couldn't believe the Order of the Phoenix would do something like this; even Voldemort and the Death Eaters hadn't stooped so low. He could hear a low chanting in the background and he strained to make out the words, recognising the language as Latin. As the intent of the spell became clear, his anger rose to new heights and the force of it seemed to help clear the mist out of his head. Gathering his wavering energies, he tried to do something to stop them, anything to stop them. But it wasn't working and the light from the orb reached out to encompass him.

There was a burning fire racing under his skin, inflaming his nerves and making him writhe in agony. It was worse than his visions of Voldemort, worse than crucio, worse than any of the Unforgivables. It ripped through his very being, leaving no place untouched or unscathed. He was going to kill them for this, he thought as he felt his energy drain out of him like he was a giant sieve.

The last thing he saw before he passed out was a blinding flash of red light.

Severus watched as Harry began to wake up, fighting the potions that should have kept him in oblivion. Dumbledore waved his wand and began to chant, activating the orb's power. It flared white as Harry's eyes opened. Severus wished he could help the downed slayer but it would only hurt them both more in the long run.

He knew the full extent of what the headmaster was doing and he knew Harry would be livid once he too found out the repercussions. Dumbledore continued chanting, droning on as the light from the orb went to Harry.

The slayer's body was covered in the red glow, a thick, pulsing red link forming between him and the orb. The link was draining the majority of Harry's magic, pulling it inside the orb and trapping it there. He knew it had to be immensely painful, especially considering how in tune Harry was with his magic.

The light began to glow brighter and brighter until there was a brilliant red flash that made dark spots dance in front of everyone's eyes. Blinking away the disorientation, he focused on Harry once more, noticing that he was again dead to the world. Thank Merlin he didn't have to be awake for the next part, Severus thought, he dreaded to even think what Harry would have done in the desperation that would have seized him.

Because Dumbledore wasn't finished yet. There were still a few things up his sleeve, none of which benefited Harry in any way but all benefited Dumbledore.

The Branding.

It had been used very times in history because of the eventual consequences for the victim. It allowed the Head of the Order of the Phoenix to control the person bearing the Brand. It was worse than even the Dark Mark; Voldemort did not demand absolute control of his followers, like Dumbledore was trying to do with Harry.

The Phoenix Brand was similar to an advanced form of Imperius, except it couldn't be broken by force of will. As long as Harry bore that brand, he would have no choice except to obey Dumbledore's commands. Severus was sure Harry would try and fight it but unless he figured out how to remove the cursed thing, all his efforts would be useless.

Dumbledore placed the tip of his wand on Harry's left arm, just above his wrist. He spoke the incantation solemnly, but Severus was sure he picked up a gleeful note under the sombre facade.

There was a smell of smouldering flesh as the Mark burned itself into the soft flesh. A scarlet phoenix with its wings spread was the image, a halo of flames surrounding it in an intricately woven pattern.

Dumbledore inspected his work with satisfaction and with a flick of his wand the bindings holding Harry down were removed. He motioned for everyone to leave and Severus did so reluctantly, casting a glance back at the unconscious boy, as of yet unaware of his fate. Dumbledore picked up the orb, now lit with a greenish-black light – the colour of Harry's magic – and carried it out of the room.

The door silently swung shut and locked behind them.

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

When Harry came to next, he first noticed that there was a throbbing pain in his arm. Sitting up, he blearily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and then took a look around the unfamiliar room. He started as his sleep-fogged brain prodded his memory, which filled him in on his situation.

Slightly panicky, he tried to change his clothes with his magic. It didn't work. Getting more and more alarmed, he tried various other forms like levitation, conjuring, transfiguration, but nothing worked.

The Orb of Thessulah had done its job then. Dumbledore was going to die for this, he vowed. Inspecting his arm for the source of his pain, he nearly had a heart attack when he saw the Brand. That couldn't be what he thought it was!

Dumbledore had just been upgraded from simple death to being 'accidentally' left in the lair of a bunch of flesh-eating ghouls, without his wand. Or perhaps he'd just tie him up with some bright ribbon and send him to Voldemort with a card saying, "Torture! Kill! Do whatever you feel like with him, just kill him!"

He was nobody's servant. Unfortunately the Brand kinda said otherwise. He had to get his hands on that orb. There was no other way to get rid of this damned tattoo and get his magic back. Of course, he had o find out where it was first and in the meantime Albus Soon-Going-To-Be-Sleeping-With-The-Fishes Dumbledore was going to be bossing him around the place as if he was lower than a house elf!

He scrambled out of the bed, and began searching for the exit. He found it with his senses but the minute he tried to open it, a powerful shield barrier was thrown up. Harry nearly wept with frustration, how dare they do this to him!

"I AM NOT AN ANIMAL TO BE CAGED!" he bellowed, throwing himself against the shield. This had no effect on the barrier so he slid down along it, sinking to the floor and hugging his knees to his chest. It seemed all he could do was wait.

Harry had drifted into a light doze when the door opened and someone passed through the barrier. He looked up hopefully but scowled when he saw the tall figure of Professor Snape come towards him. There wasn't going to be any help from that quarter.

"Potter," his voice called. Harry stubbornly refused to look at him. "Potter!" Snape called again, sounding rather strained. Probably didn't want to be breathing the same air as him, Harry thought bitterly.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, "Potter.... Harry. Listen to me." Snape began, stumbling over Harry's name.

The slayer glared at him, "Why should I bother? Here to taunt me over my forced servitude professor?" he said nastily.

Snape sighed, "I'm not here to harm you or taunt you, I'm here to help you."

"Help me? You hate me!" Harry exclaimed, remembering the many years of cruel and sarcastic remarks in Potions class.

"I never hated you." Snape said softly. "I don't agree with Dumbledore and I am bound to him just as much as you are now."

"Yeah right. Is he telling you to say this?"

"You don't believe me? Why do you think I rarely leave the grounds? Out of choice? Most certainly not. You know I'm a spy for the Order. If I step out of line, Dumbledore will expose me to Voldemort and have me carted off to Azkaban by the Ministry. He'd make sure I wouldn't survive long, most likely he'd make them give me the Kiss."

Harry listened intently; it made a lot of sense. "Why are you here?"

"Like I said; to help you. Your arm must be paining you. I brought a salve for it," he said, handing over a small jar.

Harry accepted it hesitantly, "Thank you."

"It's not a problem. There are a few things you should know; only Dumbledore can use the Mark to control you, though Voldemort probably could if he got his hands on you. You can't leave the Hogwarts grounds and you will only be able to access a limited amount of magic with your wand. No wandless spells anymore."

Harry looked surprised, "Wandless? How did you know that?"

"I know a lot of things about you."

"Do you know anything about the Orb of Thessulah?"

"Only that Dumbledore is planning on using it. Why?"

"I need to find it to unbind my magic."

Snape nodded, "I have to go. Dumbledore will wonder where I am. I would appreciate it if you mentioned this to no one."

"Naturally. I'm hardly the most popular person at the moment."

Snape stood just beside the barrier, "You're not powerless you know. You're still the slayer," he said before going, leaving Harry with one question - What the hell had just happened here?

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

At the Riddle House, Voldemort reread Lucius' letter for the third time.

My Lord,

I have just received some rather interesting news from Cornelius Fudge. He says that Potter blew up the roof of the Great Hall at Hogwarts and that Dumbledore has marked him with the Phoenix Brand. Severus has already confirmed it on his end.

Your loyal servant,

Lucius Malfoy.

Voldemort couldn't believe his luck. That left Harry Potter defenceless. With a few alterations that Brand would work for him and he would have the infamous Boy-Who-Lived as one of his Death Eaters.

Rising from his seat, he went to set his plans in motion. It was time to strike.

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

The next day the Wizarding world was thrown into uproar when Rita Skeeter published her latest article in the Daily Prophet. It read: -

Harry Potter – Boy-Who-Lived and confirmed Dark Lord! Ministry forced to take drastic measures!

Harry Potter, who defeated You-Know-Who as a baby and was present at his resurrection a year and a half ago, has been confirmed to be a Dark Wizard. Just yesterday, in an unprovoked attack, Mr Potter blew up the roof of the Great Hall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The hall was full of students at the time, and they barely escaped with their lives. Headmaster of Hogwarts and Head of the Order of the Phoenix bravely faced down the rampaging Mr Potter and after a fierce duel brought him down.

Mr Potter has been showing signs of the Dark Arts for some time. And it must be speculated if the late Hogwarts Triwizard champion, Cedric Diggory was indeed killed by You-Know-Who or Potter himself. We, at the Daily Prophet have warned the wizarding public of Potter's strange fits, his need for attention and his mental instability and it greatly saddens us to be proven right in this case. A known Parselmouth – an ability associated with Salazar Slytherin himself, as well as You-Know-Who – Potter has been involved in a number of strange incidents at Hogwarts, most notably the duel with You-Know-Who at the end of the school term last year. With the new evidence coming to light, this reporter believes that this was a prearranged, staged duel between Harry Potter and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to try and fool the unsuspecting public.

Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge was kind enough to spare a few words for us with regards to this matter, "It is a very serious situation. One that we are dealing with. The proper measures have already been taken and a full investigation is underway. I cannot stress how dangerous Harry Potter is, it has been revealed that he helped the notorious convict, Sirius Black, who escaped from Azkaban in the boy's third year. It was due to Potter's efforts that Black escaped from the Dementors who had him in Ministry custody and he has no doubt been helping him whilst on the run. There is no doubt in my mind that Black and Potter are solely responsible for the return of You-Know-Who and are his right hand men."

Albus Dumbledore has said that Mr Potter will remain at Hogwarts for the time being with several restrictions placed on him. Potter has apparently been marked with the Phoenix Brand, which will allow Headmaster Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic to keep him under control. After they have acquired any information that he has on the whereabouts of You-Know-Who, he will be sent to Azkaban and will almost certainly receive the Dementors' Kiss.

As for this reporter, I believe that we placed too much faith in Harry Potter and should acknowledge him for what he is, - one of the most favoured Death Eaters in You-Know-Who's ranks.

Rita Skeeter.

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

A week had gone by since that article had come out and the Great Hall was completely repaired. Nothing had changed, the room looked like it had never caved in. Ah, the wonders of magic...

Harry's life was pretty much a living hell, and from him, that was saying something. Everybody skirted around him fearfully while those who knew the full effects of the Brand – basically anyone who had relatives in the Ministry and then whoever the gossip was passed on to – had taken to taunting him at every opportunity.

The faculty treated him like a rabid animal, with Dumbledore acting like he was a pet who had misbehaved. Harry felt so weak, and it drove his anger to new heights. He could still feel the deep well of magic inside him but he couldn't access it; it was infuriating!

Ethan Rayne had been ridiculed and mocked him every time he saw him, content in the knowledge that the slayer couldn't keep his promise to eviscerate him anymore.

Weasley had gotten his Prefect badge after it had been stripped from him – of course Harry still had to do the blasted Halloween decorations, wouldn't want Weasley to break a nail, would we? - and had begun to abuse his power – not that anyone cared when the victim was Harry – and had issued more punishments for imaginary infractions than anyone else in the school's history. Even Snape wouldn't take points for being too quiet.

Snape.

There was another problem. The man was an enigma. An enigma that knew Harry was the Vampire Slayer. So very not good. Snape had said he didn't like Dumbledore but what about Voldemort? He didn't know where the Potions Master's loyalties lied and that was very worrying when he held such valuable information for Harry.

Surprisingly enough, the professor hadn't insulted him as much this year, nor issued as many detentions as in previous terms but he had still managed to get Harry worked up more than anyone else had managed. Harry hadn't forgotten the strange aura that belonged to the man and that, coupled with this new information, had Harry quite nervous. He was vulnerable and exposed and he knew it. The knowledge Snape had could mean Harry's death.

And what had he meant when he said he didn't hate Harry? He had always hated Harry. It was an unwritten rule at Hogwarts.

He couldn't figure it out and that just got Harry even more frustrated.

He was so, so angry. He could practically feel the boiling rage under his skin, like it was magma and he was a volcano about to erupt. Normally he would have done something to get rid of his fury, he probably would have gone on a demon slaying frenzy. And that would have been the end of it.

Now, now he couldn't do that and he could sense it growing, seething and simmering inside him, just below the surface. Harry was getting seriously worried, that much power building up without any release would only cause trouble. He had already written to Wesley, hopefully his resourceful watcher would find him some way out of this mess.

His dream-vision thingies from Voldemort were getting worse since he now couldn't use magic to ease the pain. Fawkes had had to help him every night since he had gotten the Brand and Harry now got barely four hours of sleep a night – if he was lucky.

Speaking of the devil, Fawkes alighted beside him with the items he had asked the phoenix to get for him, - the Sorting Hat and Godric Gryffindor's sword. He figured that the best somewhat living – and willing – source of archaic facts would be the Sorting Hat, since it had been created by the Four Founders.

Thanking the phoenix and stroking his gold and red plumage, he picked up the hat. He missed talking to Fawkes, now that his magic was restrained so were his animagus forms. They were there, he just couldn't use them.

Sighing he placed the hat on his head and waited for it to acknowledge him. It didn't take long.

"Well what do we have here? Back again Potter? This is the fourth time I've spoken with you."

"Third," Harry corrected, "And I need help. That's why I'm here."

"Oh yes, you've got quite the little thirst for revenge, don't you? a bigger thirst for freedom though. You most certainly don't like rules much."

"Not unless they're my rules," Harry muttered, "Will you help me?"

"Sorry. Can't."

"What do you mean can't?!"

"I mean you've got to help yourself get out of this one. You really should have listened to me before, you know."

"Gee, thanks for the advice," the slayer said sarcastically, "I cannot believe that's the best you can come up with."

"Oh, it's not. I can see inside your head. A lot of interesting information in there, there is."

"You're hopeless."

"No, just uncooperative. You won't be like this for long little slayer. Trust me on that." the hat said and Harry growled under his breath in aggravation, ripping the hat off his head and throwing it across the room. Why couldn't anything be simple? he thought in despair.

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

Time passed quickly for Ethan Rayne. Before he knew it, it was the day before the Halloween ball, - the day he was supposed to get Angelus through the wards. He had been so caught up in his plans for the ball that the date had nearly slipped his mind. The 'entertainment' he had planned was similar to what he'd tried in Sunnydale a few years ago but for Ethan, the fun in it still hadn't worn off and he was eager to try it again. It was going to be a night to remember, that's for sure.

Scribbling a quick note to Angelus, he slipped the plans to get inside the wards into an envelope and tied it to the waiting barn owl. It was all up to the vampire now. If Ethan was lucky, he still might get out of this alive. He hoped.

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

Angelus stepped out of one of the secret passages and into the halls of Hogwarts. Thanks to the charm Ethan had sent, the magical wards couldn't pick up on him. The result of his planning was near. Smirking, he strolled leisurely along the corridors, intent on seeking out his prey – the Slayer....

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

A/N: I so hoped you liked this chapter! The quote, "Kill a few people and they call you a murderer. Kill a million and you're a conqueror," comes from 'Cliffhanger'.

I used 'magma' instead of 'lava' in reference to the volcano because lava is called magma when it is under the surface, before it erupts basically.

I'm thinking of writing a new story where Harry is a convict on the run. One problem though, I can't decide on a pairing, so if you could please tell me what pairing you'd like to see when you review, it would be much appreciated. Thanks!

Asha.