Regulus Black was chained to the wall of a dark cell. His arms ached and his body shook with cold. However, even in this position, he was still grateful. Thankful that he was not like the others who were around him. Goyle was chained to the wall across from him. The man's eyes were missing in their sockets and the man moaned intermittently. Scabs had formed in the sockets and blood would occasionally trickle, as he shifted and the scabs cracked.

But at least Goyle wasn't in the situation that Karkaroff was in. Karkaroff was on the floor, his arms were chained to the wall above his head, forcing an uncomfortable stretch. However there was no way to do that to his leg. His leg, was, in the simplest terms, a mess. It was mangled beyond anything that was recognisable as a leg. Regulus was sure that the man should be dead.

However, it seemed that some spells had been cast on the man. His leg wasn't bleeding, even though it was little more than pulp at that moment. Yet that did not seem to mean that the pain was any better. Thankfully the young man had passed out around an hour ago. His screams, which had been constant, had finally died out.

Jugson had not come back. Regulus had seen what was left of him on the floor. He had not been breathing. He was dead. Regulus was sure that he was dead. At least he wasn't dead. He very well could have been. The Dark Lord had been angry, so angry. Regulus had never felt rage like that before. It was in the very air.

However as Regulus had heard Harry speak, the rage seemed to vanish. It had been five words, five whispered words. That was all it had taken. The power in those words; the power in his voice. The power that Hercules held over the Dark Lord was fantastical. Regulus could barley believe it. His brother, the weak little boy had that kind of power. The power to stop the wand of the most powerful wizard in the world. That was something that he could use.

Harry sighed as he lay down in bed. He had not seen his husband all day. Usually that would be a good thing, but the day before that he had had been fucked by the other man, so he felt a little…well, sensitive. He was feeling things for the man that he had not thought he would feel. There was something about the man. He was cruel, vicious, manipulative and verging on evil, if the very concept was even one that existed. Yet here Harry was, pining over him. The man was…well Harry didn't want to overstep the boundaries that were really not clearly marked out. He felt like the man was his.

Harry curled himself into a small ball. He pulled the fleece blanket, which had been set on the bed as the weather had turned slightly colder, into his face. He set it under his cheek and attempted to find sleep. He was going to Hogwarts in two days, well one day, it was after twelve. Harry fell asleep, thinking about red eyes as they faded into brown.

Harry woke up, he didn't know how much later. He felt a set of arms pulling him to a solid chest. He blinked, his mind fuzzy, as a hand ran soothingly along his hip.

"Tom" he mumbled sleepily. He felt a hot breath on his ear lobe, the warmth cascading down, along his cheek and neck.

"Go back to sleep, Harry"

Harry didn't want to. Harry wanted to be able to see the man, his husband. Harry wriggled and the grip around him loosened. Uncoordinated and lethargically Harry turned himself around, his face at level with Tom's chest.

"Better?" Tom questioned. Harry could sense the raised eyebrow and the small smirk even if he could not see it.

"Missed you" Harry mumbled. He would blame his sleep idled brain for that if he was ever asked about it. He would have never have said that with full use of his mental capacity. However he didn't have time to be asked. He was comfortable. He felt safe. He was back asleep in seconds.

Therefore Harry didn't feel the hand that ran through his hair. He didn't see the melancholy look on his husbands face. He didn't feel the kiss that was pressed into his forehead and he didn't hear the whispered words.

"I missed you too Harry"

"Change of plans Harry"

He was standing at the platform. The Hogwarts express. The train was so red that the colour seemed to sparkle across the station.

The Dark Lord stood beside Harry. It was a shock that he had come to see him off. However it was evident that there was a rather large protective detail in place. Harry and his husband were surrounded by at least thirty people. They formed a barrier of sorts between him and the rest of the world. Harry wondered if this was what it felt to be royalty, or maybe to be a prime minister or a president. It felt as though they were expecting assassins around every corner. Harry could see parents and their children standing around, attempting to act normal. Yet every single one of them was on high alert. Dark, light and neutral alike were all prepared for some sort of confrontation. Yet, the Dark Lord seemed unconcerned.

"After our little demonstration" so that's what Tom wanted to call it. Torturing and killing new death eaters in front of the old; some of them even the parents of those screaming in pain. Tom sure had a way with words.

"There have been many who have volunteered to protect you while at Hogwarts." Tom's voice was smooth like honey. You could easily find yourself stuck in it.

"Therefore we have less necessity for your wolves."

Harry started to protest. Words were ready to spill from his lips as Tom stopped him.

"Now now, you will still have two of the mutts attending school with you. It is safer to avoid drawing any, well…anymore, unnecessary attention. Two will be enough."

Harry gave a small nod. He smiled slightly up at his husband.

"Who?" Harry questioned.

"Autumn and Sparrow" Harry was actually surprised that the Dark Lord rememgbered their names. "They're on the train already. I believe Rosier and Parkinson are with them. They've secured a carriage."

Harry shook his head. It seemed that this was how the year was going to go. Harry would be followed around and protected like a prized dog. But Harry had teeth of his own. Looking at Tom, how the man moved, how he radiated power as though it was part of his very soul; Harry thought that he might be able to do something like that. Maybe, one day. Harry could bite. If he needed to.

"It is time for you to go Harry." His husband looked down at him. Tom set a hand on his shoulder, he stepped, his body in front of Harry's. "I will see you on Friday."

With that the lips dived onto Harry's, demanding and dominating. This was not a kiss of affection; this was claiming. Everyone could see it. Harry didn't think that he minded. But that may just be the fact that his brain was too dazed to think of anything but the lips on him and the insistent tongue in his mouth.

Tom drew back. Every set of eyes in the station was on them.

"Mulciber will take you, go."

Harry paused. His eyes connected with the brown. He took a risk.

Stepping up on his toes, Harry pressed his lips to his husband's. His fingers dug into the black fabric of Tom's robes. His eyes fluttered shut. Tom was pulled into the kiss. This was an equal kiss. This was one of more than just ownership. Tom indulged. It was slow. It was close. Harry was rather disappointed when it ended.

"Go Harry. You'll miss the train."

Harry walked away from the man. He followed Mulciber; a seventeen, brown haired, brown eyed seventh year Slytherin. Harry walked up to the train. He stepped onto the glittering red.

Harry turned around. He looked at Tom. Tom looked back.

Harry sat at the Ravenclaw table. For the first time in his school career he was not alone in his attendance of the opening ceremony. Sitting at the Ravenclaw table were three set of Slytherin robes; Mulciber, Rosier and Parkinson. It seemed the Dark Lord had given them the role of Bodyguard. Harry didn't mind that much. They didn't talk to him. It was just like being at the Ravenclaw table as he usually was. However now there was a barrier from the harsh words. Although there was the addition of a rather a lot of stares. It seemed that every ear had heard tell of his new position.

The first year names started being called, one after another. Harry didn't know any of them. Harry didn't care. Several of them were added to the Ravenclaw table, Harry ignored their existence. They did not ignore his. He could feel the extra sets of eyes on him. Harry put his head down. Tom wasn't here to stop them. He didn't like the feeling.

However, as the next name was called, Harry looked up.

"Norton, Sparrow" was called out. McGonagall looked at the young wolf with suspicion. Sparrow walked to the stool, not a care in the world. It was as though the whole school was not staring at each step taken. Sparrow sat on the stool.

But no-one really knew who Sparrow was. They didn't know that a werewolf stood before them. They didn't know that said wolf was part of the pack of the infamous Fenrir Greyback. They didn't know anything about Sparrow. Sparrow was just a rare transfer student. There was only curiosity toward the person smiling cockily. Harry thought that the anonymity must be nice.

"Gryffindor" was called out within a minute of the hat seating itself on Sparrow's head.

There was a round of claps throughout the hall, most of them originating from the Gryffindor table, none of them from the Slytherins. Sparrow stepped from the platform, leaving the hat on the stool.

However, instead of walking to the Gryffindor table Sparrow halted. A second of hesitation before footsteps made their way in another direction. Sparrow walked toward the Ravenclaw table, toward Harry. Harry sat, frozen in his seat. What the hell was going on? Everyone watched the fifteen year old head in the wrong direction. No-one said a word. It seemed that they were all frozen. Harry was frozen too. His heart was hammering like a far too vigorous percussion player was hammering against his ribs.

Sparrow's eyes connected with Harry's as the steps got closer and closer. Harry could not hide the shock on his face. He could only watch as his friend stooped before him with a small smile pulling at his lips. Sparrow gave a bow to Harry. It was stiff, formal and low. It was the epitome of respect.

"Lord Hercules" Sparrow straightened from the bow with the words. Then and only then Sparrow went to where the hat had dictated. The members of the Gryffindor table did not look pleased at the actions that Sparrow had just taken. The clapping had long since stopped. They all looked at Sparrow with distrust and distaste as the new Gryffindor took a seat.

Harry wanted to let his head fall into his palm. Wanted to feel and hear the thump as it connected. Sparrow was an idiot. The wolf had given up his anonymity in one fell swoop. It was now obvious to everyone why Sparrow had been sent to Hogwarts.

It took a minute for the hall to recover. Dumbledore was staring over his glasses. His eyes were contemplative. Harry could almost feel the cogs moving in his head.

Harry looked away. He knew what the man was capable of. He didn't know any of Tom's secrets, didn't think there was anything remotely resembling a confidential detail t that he could give away. Yet if there was, he didn't want to risk it. He did not want the old coot rooting around in his head.

"Prescott, Autumn." The last name was called out. It seemed to snap everyone from their temporary shock. They looked toward the girl who stood at the front of the hall. She sat on the stool.

"Hufflepuff" the words echoed around the hall as the members of the student body waited to see what would happen. No-one clapped. There was barely a breath.

The girl stood from the stool. She did the same as Sparrow had done just moments before.

"Lord Hercules" echoed through the room, far louder than Sparrow's voice had seemed. She retreated to the Hufflepuff table. The members of her new house merely looked confused. Harry wasn't surprised. He was however rather annoyed. Such idiots. Harry could see his husband's handiwork from a mile off. This was why he had know their names. Nothing was ever simple with that man.

It seemed that the newly sorted members of Hogwarts were demonstrating to student and staff alike that their allegiance to their house came second to their loyalty to Harry. Harry sighed at the thought. He was sure that this could only end badly. It put a bright red target on his back. He rubbed his eyes. Why couldn't his life just have been normal?

"I would like to welcome some new staff members, before we begin our festivities." Dumbledore twinkled. All of him seemed to twinkle. Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Rodolphus Lestrange, out new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor and the new head of Slytherin house." There was a rather subdued round of applause

"We have our new Astronomy Professor, Alice Longbottom." The applause was much louder this time.

"Finally, our new flying apprentice, Sirius Black" Harry froze. "He will be helping with flying lessons and Quidditch matches this year."

It seemed that Harry's life, could get even worse. His head thumped to the table. Fuck this shit.

Dear Mr Hercules Black

It would be much appreciated if you could attend

a meeting in my office after school today. I will be

expecting you as soon as you have finished your

Transfiguration class.

Professor Albus Dumbledore

Harry sighed as he finished the letter. He knew that this was coming. He had been in school for less than twenty-four hours and here he was, being ordered to see a man who was most definitely not a friend; not to be trusted. He hadn't even had a lesson yet. This was the joke that was his life.

Harry didn't eat any more of his breakfast that morning. He couldn't stomach it. Lessons seemed to drag and yet go far too quickly all at the same time. He really, desperately, did not want to see the Headmaster. He found himself lazily pushing around the food on his plate as dinner time came.

Sparrow sat to his right, the only set of red robes in a sea of blue. Sparrow had long since finished the food on the plate. Instead the new focus had been Harry.

"What you thinking about Buzz?" Sparrow smirked at Harry.

Usually Harry was one to give a small smile in return and then be dragged into whatever hair-raising scheme that Sparrow had planned. This was not one of those moments. They were not in the woods anymore. Harry could not run off and expect someone to come and drag him out of his hiding place hours later.

Harry paused. Maybe he could. Harry turned his head to Sparrow.

"Adventures" Harry gave a small smile. It was the first one that had been on his face since that morning. A grin spread across Sparrow's face.

"You're getting better at this." The younger Gryffindor teased.

Avoiding looking at the Slytherins that were staring, the Gryffindors that were glaring and the Ravenclaws that simply pretended that the pair did not exist, they stood up.

"Let's go" Sparrow grinned. Harry's own smile widened as he followed after the wolf.

It was three hours later, covered in mud and scratches, the sun skimming the horizon, slowly dipping lower and lower, that the pair finally returned. Their eyes were wide with excitement, their grins filled with the satisfaction of a well spent evening; the joy of youth in every movement. Rain was dripping from black hair and the green eyes sparkled with life.

The pair walked up the path, back to the school, as the rain thrummed onto the muddying ground. Their feet squelched in their soaked shoes, small sounds produced with each step. Gravel skittered beneath the sodden shoes and robes only became heavier as the rain soaked into them.

As they reached the entrance to Hogwarts, the door great and looming, light splashed across the darkened doorway. Several lights illuminated the waterlogged ground behind them. Six sets of feet and six different faces. Harry stopped. Oh shit.

Harry whipped his head around. There in the rain, yet remaining perfectly dry, were several annoyed and anxious looking faces. Rodolphus Lestrange looked frustrated while Flitwick and Pomfrey merely looking concerned. Slughorn, on the other hand, looked as though he may run and embrace Harry if given half the chance. That was if the smile on his face was any indication.

However, in the entrance, where the doors had been pushed open, stood Headmaster Dumbledore and by his side was his husband, Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort. The man's face was like thunder. Harry's teeth clenched in nervousness. His hands pulled at his sodden robes. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

Several drying and cleaning spells later, Harry and Sparrow were sitting next to each other in the Headmaster's office. Most of the members of the staff had retreated back to their own quarters. Harry was left with the twinkle of Dumbledore, the glare of Tom and the infatuated stare of Slughorne. Harry was beginning to feel that he either wanted to be Harry or he wanted to be married to him. Harry wasn't sure which would be worse.

However his thoughts were turned from the rather creepy professor as the infinitely more annoying Headmaster began to speak.

"Mr Black" the Headmaster's eyes were still twinkling, even with his serious tone.

"After your unexpected disappearance" There was a hard look in Tom's eyes as the headmaster spoken. Harry was sure that it was directed at him.

"We felt it only appropriate to contact your…" Dumbledore paused, the tinkle brighter "family, of the situation." Harry was feeling frustrated at the man who was lookinga t him. What right did he have to judge Harry's life? Harry couldn't control his own life, why should the Headmaster have any right to?

Tom was feeling equally frustrated. As well as his husband, he was feeling a lack of control. The headmaster had always made Tom feel utterly out of control. He was an orphan again, a burning wardrobe threatening his future. Oh, how he wanted to see the man doused in flames of his very own creation.

"Well Mr Black, what do you have to say for yourself?" The Headmaster attempted to seem stern and friendly all at the same time.

It was not a good combination. It put Harry on edge, more than he already was. For all of his life, Harry had been warned about the dangers of this man; the defeater of Grindlewald, the only one that could equal the Dark Lord. Harry further cemented his gaze on the floor, before he found it appropriate to make a response.

"I don't not know…sir" Harry chanced the pause. Respect to a man his husband, or disrespect to man that could crush him with a word. He took a safe middle ground. He really had not put himself in a good situation.

"Well, Mr Black, don't you think that you and" the man paused, his brain attempting to come up with a solution, to a rather complex solution. He settled it after around a second. The simplest solution, it seemed.

"Norton, owe myself, your professors and your husband, an explanation?" The twinkle was back in full swing.

Harry only kept his gave to the floor. He only repeated the answer that he had said mere seconds before.

"I don't know, sir" and honestly, he really didn't.