A/N: You people make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Thanks. Warm and fuzzy is good. 

Can you guys do me a huge favor? By not using my name when you review to my stories? It gives other people the wrong idea. Not to be mean, or anything, but it would really help.

Happy Thanksgiving to the US readers! I'm going to try to get at least two up here this weekend, as I don't really have any homework, and no school in honor of the holiday. (on Thurs. and Fri.)

Disclaimer: If you people want to believe that I'm JKR, or those wonderful blokes at Bloomsbury, Scholastic, or WB, feel free. Those of you who don't, its your problem, not mine! sniffles

He pulled out a small, clear vial from his shirt pocket, grinning. Malfoy and Parkinson both shrank back, finally realizing how much trouble they were in. "Don't!" he said, waving his arms. "I'll tell you without it! All the truth, I-"

Harry quickly inserted the bottle into Malfoy's mouth, and drew it out. "Just a drop." He murmured as he wiped it on his enemy's shirt.

Everyone was quiet, but Malfoy was sitting stock-still, his hands over his mouth.

"So." His enemy –and rival – leaned down so they were eye to eye. "What were you saying about why Riddle chose Ginny and how we could bring Ron back?"

"Well, I said that I knew the stuff. You give me freedom, I give you information."

"Oh, but that's not needed anymore." Harry's voice was dangerously soft as he knelt beside Malfoy. "We can get the info anytime we like. Can't we, Malfoy?"

At his horrified glances at the rest of us, I think that the scum was sure that Harry was going to do a lot worse than make his own lips betray him. He thought that the Boy-Who-Lived was soon going to be the Slayer-of-Malfoys. "Obviously, Potter." Even though he had no control in what he said, his lips still curled in disgust.

"Why did He pick me then, Malfoy?" I asked the bloodied figure curled up below me, my voice stone hard and cold. I surprised even myself.

His voice shook as he answered me. "Something… something about strength. Something about weakness. You… you had the strongest power in all of Hogwarts, excepting the murdering lunatic over there."

Harry cut in, "Murdering lunatic? MURDERING LUNATIC???" His voice rose. "IF THE THREE PEOPLE I'VE BEEN FORCED TO KILL MAKE ME A MURDERING LUNATIC, THEN WHAT ARE YOU? HOW MANY DID YOU KILL?"
The scum quivered in fear. "None. Only purebloods count."

Harry walked out of the room, chest heaving. I suspected he need time alone, and so I didn't follow him. Instead, I turned to the shaking body to my left.

"Just letting you know, but by your standards, Harry only killed two people. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was partblood."

Malfoy sneered at me. "I know that. Us," he gestured at himself and Parkinson, and then at the bodies and bound figures outside the chamber, "the True-Bloods, know that. Everyone knows that. Except for my father, and his people. That's why we broke away and formed our own."

This was interesting, but why He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had chosen me chosen was even more so. "Stop getting off the subject, Malfoy. Why was it me?"

He smiled smugly. "The filthy part-blood didn't choose you. It was my father. You were a pureblood, and he knew that the Dark Lord wouldn't posess anyone with an ounce of Muggle-blood in them."

"You had already proven yourself very emotional, and as we all know, emotion can be both the strongest and weakest point in a wizard - or a witch." Malfoy was relaxed now. I guess he had finally accepted that whatever happened, happened. And what was happening was that he was spilling, big time.

"Feeling so much gives you strong magic. When you threw me across the room just now, you were stronger because you were so incredibly angry. However, it also turned into your undoing. You felt so shunned and different from your older brothers and unnoticed by Potter, that you poured your heart out to Riddle. My father didn't know for sure, but he guessed correctly. Your strength was your undoing."

"But I hadn't even met you father!" Malfoy just smiled at me.

"I don't know how he knew. But he did. Maybe it was the red-head thing. Or the fact that he knew Ron from me , that you must be as stupid and as brainless as he was."

I couldn't help it. I really couldn't. How dare he talk about Ron that way! I swung at him, and hit him full in the face. Malfoy's nose began to bleed and he began to whimper. Stunned, I stepped back. I had just hurt a helpless person! An evil helpless person, but still!

"What did I tell you?" I heard George asking Fred. "Never make her angry, or you'll end up like that old bean over there."

I burst into tears. "Its not funny!" I yelled, and ran out of the room. For a minute I planned to go to Ron and complain to him about the unfairness of life. In my anger and distress I had forgotten he was dead. You never get used to it. Ever.

Things around me being to glow and rattle. The air was heating up as I boiled with anger. People turned to stare. They could ignore a young woman crying her eyes out, but not glowing objects and searing heat. Seeing that I had no control over my magic, they began to back away, and put up protections. I guess they figured I was about to blow. Maybe I was.