For those of you who didn't pay attention to some parts of the last chapter… I will clarify.

Ron and Hermione know Ryder is Harry (even though they look different) because Pansy screamed "but he's Harry Potter" while pointing at Ryder loud enough for all of Diagon Alley to hear.

No, the information about the Hosts is not lost forever. If you can't remember (or didn't pay enough attention) Hermione and Ron inherited a trunk through Dumbledore's will. Every diary by a Dumbledore (except Kerrigor and Emmanuel) is in that trunk. They are filled with lies passed down by Emmanuel; so don't take what they say seriously. Propaganda material, understood?

Any other silly questions, now?

Oh, one more thing… Who else apart from one ANON reviewer thinks I rushed things with Hermione and Ron finding out who Ryder was?

Words: 4,708

Chapter 12

Intervention

Hermione Granger had always prided herself on being calm, composed and level headed. Never once had she lost control of a situation or let things spiral out of control before. When she had been a child, she had never had many friends. All the other children thought she was 'boring' but Hermione knew it was because she was mature. She didn't behave like they all did. She didn't break things, or dirty things, or be loud and unruly. She was always quiet, with her nose in a book. Of course the little rats thought she was boring.

When she went to Hogwarts, she really hadn't expected anything to change. She wasn't at all surprised when Ronald Weasley began to pick on her for her books and the way she was always studying. Just because she wanted to do well and he couldn't even pronounce 'Levi-o-sa' was not her fault.

Of course, then Harry Potter had come along and rearranged her whole life. When the boys had appeared in the doorway of the girls bathroom that Halloween in first year, she was sure they were there to laugh at her. And then she had seen the Troll, and she figured they were still there to laugh at her and watch her die. But Harry had saved her! She had been overjoyed to have her first – two – friends. She had been more pleased that she could have ever imagined being. She had never known there was a state of happiness akin to what she felt when Harry gave her a Christmas present. Her first present from someone her own age.

Even her cousins disliked her.

Harry continued to be her friend, the year after that, and the year after that, and the year after that one too. Harry would always be her friend, Hermione knew, and Ron would realize he was in love with her and they would get married. Hermione always thought that Ginny was misguided in the opinion that Harry would marry her.

Ginny, Hermione guessed, reminded Harry too much of Lily Potter. And considering Harry looked just like his Father, James, it would be disturbing in many senses. Plus, Hermione had the nagging feeling that Harry was gay anyway. Not that it mattered to her; Harry was her friend.

Hermione would have walked across burning coal, swam across the red sea, even battled flying monkeys without her wand to protect Harry. And when Dumbledore's Will told her he needed her, she would have killed anyone who stood in her way of protecting her friend.

She expected Dumbledore was right. Harry never did like asking for help. He never ever admitted anything was wrong with him. So Hermione expected Harry to deny it. She expected Harry to shout and rave and tell everyone to leave him alone, and to stay out of his business. She even expected that he might hit Ron, if Ron started being his usual unthinking self.

She never expected Harry to deny that he was Harry!

When she, Ron and Aberforth had left Gringotts the first thing she had noticed was that, right at the other end of Diagon Alley, she could see a flash of Malfoy blond hair.

"Come on, Ron," she shouted when she heard shouting from the direction Malfoy was in. She took Ron's hand and pulled him towards the entrance to Diagon Alley. Aberforth didn't follow them. He collected Goat, and went home. The Order Members hadn't even noticed the children leave the bank.

When they were half way there, Hermione recognized Pansy Parkinson clinging tightly to Malfoy's arm. The elder Malfoy was standing beside Professor Snape and two other adults. There was another boy, who Hermione guessed was the strangers' Son, because he looked similar, standing just behind Draco.

With a snarl, that boy moved closer to Draco and hissed something that made Parkinson's face go red. Hermione saw her mouth move, but she couldn't hear what was being said.

Everyone had stopped what they were doing. They all had turned to stare at the spectacle in front of them. Hermione pulled at Ron's arm and tried to get closer. She didn't know why, but she knew that what Parkinson was saying was going to be very important.

"But Drake! He's not Ryder Hammond…" Hermione frowned. Hammond, she thought, wasn't that the name of Voldemort's Mate? The adults in the group turned and carried on walking into the Alley. Draco finally pulled away and began to follow. Hermione frowned, her brow creasing as she strained to hear what was being said.

Pansy suddenly screamed. "He's HARRY POTTER!"

Everyone in Diagon Alley froze. Hermione nearly fell over from shook. Ron was stood behind her with his mouth hanging open unattractively. "I am NOT Potter. Potter died, and you were all so foolish never to check on him. Harry Potter doesn't exist anymore. And you Parkinson better keep your fucking hands off my fiancé. Understood?" He had her by the collar of her robe, dangling about three inches in the air. She nodded frantically and he let her fall to the floor in a pile. His arm wrapped around Draco's waist.

"How did she know?" Draco asked confused. Hermione couldn't hear what he said, but he looked worried.

She moved forward, slowly, so not to draw attention to herself. It wouldn't be good if Harry bolted now. Not before she could speak to him. She didn't bother listening to what Pansy was saying now. She did note, however, that Harry began to look angrier and angrier.

Speaking of looks, Harry didn't even look like Harry anymore. Maybe this really wasn't Harry and Parkinson was confused? No but it must be, she decided. He had appeared from nowhere when Harry disappeared. Silly Hermione, while she may have been right, it didn't occur to her that Ryder could have gone to a different school.

"Stay away from my Mate," he growled. "I won't warn you again."

He turned, pulling Draco with him, and continued down the length of Diagon Alley with his and Draco's family. Hermione watched him go, his hands clenched as he pointedly refused to look around him. "HARRY!" Hermione screamed as she ran behind him. She couldn't wait any longer, or he'd be gone.

"MATE!" Ron called, panting. "WAIT UP!" He yelled when he had his breath back.

Ryder turned to face them and sneered. "Did you not hear me? I am not a Potter. My name is Ryder."

"Dumbledore said you wouldn't accept our help," Hermione sobbed around her words. "But we love you Harry. We're your friends and you have to trust us. We'll make everything ok. We'll fix this. What ever Malfoy has done to you, we'll fix it! And we wont let that Host anywhere near you."

"Yeah mate." Ron nudged Ryder with his shoulder. "We'll get rid of that bitch and you can kill Voldemort and we won't have to worry about any Hosts ever again. Then we'll sort Malfoy out. How dare he curse you?"

"I am not cursed. You will not touch my Sister. Nor will you interfere with her bonding. You will not try to separate me from my fiancé. And, if you have even a modicum of common sense, you will disregard anything and everything Dumbledore said to you."

"But Harry," Hermione whined, "Dumbledore said you'd be like this. And Dumbledore was a great Wizard, of course we should listen to him." Hermione reached out to touch Ryder, who pulled away with a snarl.

"Do not touch me Mudblood," he hissed. Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. This wasn't her Harry, this wasn't the same sweet boy who made friend with her and saved her from life on her own. This couldn't be the real Harry Potter. "Your very presence offends me. You are an abomination." He ignored the protests made by Ron and he couldn't care less about the way Hermione's eyes watered. He took Draco by the hand and dragged him back towards the Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione watched him go as tears slowly trickled down her cheeks. "We have to save him," she sobbed. Ron took her in his arms and nodded silently. He would help save Harry. And then, he decided, when Harry was back to normal, Ron would punch him in the face for upsetting Hermione.

XXX

After they had arrived at Lestrange Manor, Rose had immediately gone to check up on her Mate. Voldemort was been rather bemused, finding himself tackled down onto his throne while half his Inner Circle watched. The only reason he wasn't spitting in anger at the humiliation was that, the one doing the tackling, was his Mate. And Rose felt oh-so-very-good pressed against him.

"You ok?" She asked quietly, her face pressed against his neck. He shivered as her warm breath brushed against his skin.

"I am well," he whispered back. "What worries you?" His left hand moved up to cup the back of her head. His fingers began to card through her hair. The Death Eaters watched in shock. When Rose didn't reply, he waved his right hand in the air. As one, the gathered minions bowed low to the ground and apparated out of the room.

"They'll hurt you!" She cried, pulling away to look at him. Her hands came up, so she rested one palm on each cheek. She met his eyes and refused to look away.

He covered each of her hands with his larger ones. "I am a Dark Lord. No one can hurt me," he said cockily.

"Except Ryder?" She asked with a cheeky smile. Voldemort just rolled his eyes, glad to have at least made her smile. "Granger and Weasley think they are helping Ryder, they think they can 'save' him. I don't know what Dumbledore has told them, so I can't protect any of you!"

"We are all older than you, remember. Your Brother and I." He said slowly. She pulled away with a snarl. Her eyes were Ravenclaw blue.

"I am Ryder's guardian! If I cannot protect him, who can? I cannot even protect my Mate!" Rowena sobbed softly and turned her face away. "I'm so scared, Salazar!" She confessed.

Voldemort looked torn for a moment before nodding his head softly. With his permission, Salazar Slytherin took control of the body, and looked directly into his Mate's eyes; meeting her blue with his black eyes.

"Rowena, you have no cause to fear. Milady believe me, if anyone can survive the kindness those children wish to bestow, it is Ryder. He has dealt with them before; let him handle this on his terms. We will be together soon, no need to fear, my love." Salazar's hand pressed to Rowena's forehead before he slid it lower, trailing his fingers over her nose and lips before cupping her chin. He raised her head higher and bent to press his lips to hers. "Do not fear. We are so close."

"And that's why I fear, Salazar!" She cried and pulled her face away. "We are close. Closer than we have ever been before. I don't think I can bare losing you again!"

"YOU WILL NOT LOSE ME!" Salazar finally lost his temper and screamed at his Mate. Rowena flinched back, her eyes wide. "You will never lose me. No matter what they do, I will always be waiting."

"Unless they kill Voldemort. And then your line will end. You will not be here anymore. You will have left me." She whispered brokenly, her eyes trained on the floor.

"Ridiculous. Do you honestly believe I would not move the Heavens to find another Host? I would sell what small part of my soul I have left to the Fates for the chance to be with you." Salazar moved closer to Rowena and pressed their lips together. With a sigh, Rowena relaxed against her Mate, and gave in to the kiss. "I will never leave you."

"We still are not safe, my Lord."

"Milady," Salazar protested but she cut him off.

"We will never be safe while Dumbledore is alive."

"He is dead. His line is over! There are no more!" Salazar cried, even as his eyes bled to hazel. Tom frowned recognizing Salazar's mistake.

"There is a Dumbledore alive. Albus lives on through those misguided children. Aberforth continues the line through blood and birth. Do you honestly believe he will not continue the Dumbledore crusade as well?" She gave a humourless laugh. "We will not be safe, until we are dead."

"I cannot wait until Rose turns seventeen." Tom said with a small smile. His hand reached out to brush Rowena's hair from her face. Rose looked at him, smiling at him and blushing lightly. Her green eyes sparkled with tears. "I cannot wait until you turn seventeen." He corrected.

She smiled at him softly. "Nor can I." She moved into the safety of his arms, allowing him to wrap them around her waist and hold her close. When Marvolo came to the surface Voldemort wanted to cry. Fortunately the nineteen-year-old didn't do anything embarrassing to ruin the mood. Instead, he began to sing. Voldemort blushed mentally at the sound.

"Hold on to love, that is what I do, now that I've found you. In the night I could be helpless, I could be lonely, sleeping without you. And in the day, everything's complex. There's nothing simple when I'm not around you. But I miss you when you're gone, that is what I do. And it's hard to carry on." Marvolo trailed off as his eyes turned from forest green to red. Voldemort smirked against the top of his Mate's head.

"That was… depressing." Rose commented. "I thought you were meant to be cheering me up?"

"I've been kissed by a rose on the grey. There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say. You remain my power, my pleasure, my pain." He laughed at her glare. "Still don't approve, I take it?" She swatted him lightly on the arm.

"I didn't take you for a romantic, Voldemort."

He just stared at her for a moment. "You'd be surprised, my love." He said at last, before wrapping his arms back around her, and burying his face into her raven black hair. "You became the light on the dark side of me." He whispered the words now, no longer singing, as Rose began to hum along. "The more I get of you the stranger it feels."

"Strange?" She asked quietly, not moving away from him.

"I have never been in love before." Voldemort said slowly. "I have never known love before. Yet, the more time I spend with you, the faster and faster I fall. And it is strange. It is strange how I can feel so much, when I have never felt a thing before. I had no heart, but I feel. It is strange, but I mean you no offence."

Rose beamed up at him, though he couldn't see it. "You had no heart?" He nodded. "I gave you mine." She said softly. She sighed and pulled away. "I love you." Voldemort just stared at her, with his mouth open. "You think you can love me, but not be loved in return?" She snickered, "I don't think so mister Dark Lord. Turn about is fair play, after all. I love you," she repeated. "I love you. Ich liebe dich. Um, how do you say I love you in French?"

Voldemort gave a snort of amusement, before he grabbed her tightly under the arms and lifted her off the floor. He swung her around in the air, and she screamed and laughed and begged to be put down, but he just span her faster.

It was strange, him acting like this. But then, love made people to strange things. Like laugh, and live, and feel. Voldemort was in love. And he wouldn't give the feeling up for the world. Aberforth Dumbledore had better mind himself, Voldemort snarled.

"I agree fully, Voldemort," Salazar snarled back at him.

Tom frowned, then sighed. "And those annoying children too."

"Why are we talking about this?" Marvolo asked with a sneer. "Our Mate is there, amuse her."

The other three mentally smacked him across the head. "Although," Voldemort conceded. "For once, the idiot is right."

Rose smiled up at him when Voldemort finally set her down on the ground. "I was wondering," she began before biting her lip nervously. "Would you like to come to my home tonight? You can meet my family."

"When they aren't out for my blood?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well." She shrugged her shoulders. "That was an extreme situation." She took his hand, and not giving him time to argue, she pulled him into her arms. Then she apparated them outside Lestrange Manor. "Mi casa, su casa," she said with a giggle. "Come inside." He followed her meekly. He was very proud to admit that he did not flinch from the look Ryder Hammond sent in his direction the second he entered the Study behind Rose.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all."

"Shut up and sit down," Ryder growled while pulling Draco closer to him. Rose shot him a glare but he ignored it. "Now Rosie, if you'll ignore Jim for a while. Could you find a way to get whatever Granger and Weasley inherited?"

"I shall try, Brother of mine." Rose said softly as she pushed Voldemort down into a chair. "I shall try, very hard." She promised and left the room to do as she had been asked. Voldemort looked around nervously, and gulped.

"I'll, uh, help?" He started to stand. Atticus moved to his side, and with a hand on Voldemort's shoulder, he urged the Dark Lord back into the chair.

Voldemort watched Rose leave the room and sighed. "My Mate, why hast thou forsaken me?" Voldemort asked dramatically.

"SHUT UP," the other three said.

XXX

Ron and Hermione Granger spent the rest of the day in Ron's room. Since their meeting with Harry-cum-Ryder, neither of them had mentioned the cruel things the other boy had said. But Hermione had yet to wipe the tears from her face.

She pulled the trunk Dumbledore had left them out of her pocket and un-shrank it. When it was full sized she took a deep breath, and opened it.

The trunk was filled from top to bottom with journals and diaries and scrolls of parchment. She picked up a scroll and unrolled it.

The year of our Lord, 1034.

The abominations must be vanquished. My great-Uncle Emmanuel has been unsuccessful in his killing of Slytherin. The man has returned and taken Host inside Harare. The filthy Dark Wizard!

Rowena Ravenclaw still lives. She must be killed also. Unfortunately, she is too well protected. She has always been the strongest of the Founders; I have not an idea why many feared Slytherin. He was weak. Killed by a mob, how unfitting.

I do regret the death of his Son, but as I was not there, I am not guilty and have nothing to regret. Well, at least that is settled then.

Now. While you, my Son, may feel some pity for Harare, do not let it overwhelm you. You must stay firm, my Heir, and you must kill him before he can spawn (like the monster he is). He cannot be allowed to breed. If he procreates, we are doomed. Harare will be killed and his body stolen by Slytherin. Rowena has already been rumoured to have copulated with her Grandson; how much worse would society be if she married him? Because he was Slytherin now! I cannot even bare to think about it.

Do not question this task, my Son. Only fulfil it. The line of Host must be stopped. I only pray, Rowena does not die and become reborn as well. It would be so much harder to defeat the two of them together. If, when I am gone, there are two Hosts… may Merlin have mercy on you if you let them bond. DO NOT!

My hopes and dreams are left in your care, dear Son. Do not fail me.

Reginor Dumbledore: Grandson of Polethes, who is Brother to Emmanuel Dumbledore.

Hermione re-rolled it, her back stiff as she dropped it into the trunk. "Oh Harry," she whispered.

"Is it that bad?" Ron asked, his already pale skin had paled further leaving his freckles to take dominance of his face.

"Worse than I ever thought it could be. Oh Ron, what will we do? We need help, but only Aberforth can help us. Dumbledore said."

"Well, we'll ask him." Ron shrugged and grabbed a scroll of his own.

"How are we meant to find him?" Hermione asked as she lent over his shoulder to read as well.

"We'll think of something." Ron mumbled.

The year of our Lord, 1134.

There have been no Hosts.

Since Harare died, his Son has shown no obvious signs of possession. Morticus Gaunt, I thank the powers, is free from Salazar Slytherin. I only pray it lasts.

Rowena Ravenclaw's granddaughter, Allya Malfoy had a Daughter of her own, Cassandra Black. But neither has shown signs of possession. On a different note, it seems rather popular for Malfoys and Blacks to intermarry, does it not? Well I suppose there are enough of them to spare. Auguste Malfoy has at least twelve Sons. How his wife managed I don't know, when mine could barely give me two. And weak fools they are as well. I thank the Fates I was gifted with Anna. My Daughter, this scroll is for you.

You must be warned, and there is no one else to warn you but I. All of our ancestors are dead now, killed by filthy Slytherin and his whore-bride. I will not let them get you also, through ignorance or spite. I will make sure you are able to protect yourself. While I write this, you are barely a year old. But you will be trained as you grow. I think I'll get you a wand on your fifth birthday; you should be strong enough by then. Dumbledores are always powerful (if you exclude your idiotic Brothers, they take after their Mother).

Will my love and protection.

Your Father, Excedus Dumbledore: Son of Reginor.

"Well the Hosts are gone, that's great!" Ron said, idiotically.

Hermione slapped him across the back of the head and grabbed a diary this time. "They come back, moron." She hissed.

"How do you always know everything?" He asked amazed at her knowledge.

She rolled her eyes. "I know, Ronald, because we are trying to save Harry from them."

"Oh," he muttered. He stood up, "I'll go ask Mum if she knows where I can find Aberforth ok?" Hermione nodded and kept reading.

XXX

Rose ran back into the study as if the hounds of Hell were on her trail. Voldemort jumped out of his chair in worry. Ryder shoved him back into the chair as he walked passed. "What?"

"Come quick." She panted.

"You found something?"

"Someone," she amended as she ran from the room. Ryder followed.

A moment later, after Rose's guest had been briefly interrogated by Ryder, the three entered the study again. Ryder slumped down next to Draco; the blond wrapped an arm around his lover's waist and leant against the brunette's side. Rose sat down on Voldemort's lap and leant back against his chest. His arm encircled her waist.

Aberforth Dumbledore stood in the threshold of the room and looked around nervously. "Oh, hello everyone? Would you like a peanut? I have a whole bag! I'm afraid I had to leave Goat outside, but he doesn't eat house-elves so I suppose he'll be fine for a few moments."

"Hello Aberforth, may I call you that?" Ryder said, with a half smile on his lips.

"Why, Mr. Hammond, you may indeed."

"Call me Ryder, I think I'm going to like you." The Vampyre grinned.

Lucius, who had left to find his wife, came back through the fireplace then and took his seat. Severus was called as well, for his opinion but company mind you, and when everyone was facing Aberforth… he belched in their faces.

"Pardon me!" He rubbed his stomach, and blushed. "My Brother left me a bag of lemon drops, they don't agree with my stomach. I've been doing that all day." Everyone gave him a look of disgust. He gave them a half-grin. "Have you got a pensive? I'd like to show my memory of the Will reading, if you all wouldn't mind?"

Atticus got out of his chair, and left the room. He came back with a small granite bowl in the palm of his cupped hands. He placed it on the coffee table and un-shrank it. "Be my guest," Atticus said with a wave of his hands.

When the memory had finished playing out, Rose growled. "We need to get that trunk."

"I think," Aberforth said hesitantly. "They might ask me for help."

"Then help them, and," Ryder smirked as he spoke, "help yourself to that trunk. Bring it here when you have the chance. They are probably all lies anyway."

"There is a real one, a real diary," Aberforth whispered. "The two that tell the truth. The two first ones. Only someone with Dumbledore blood can call for them. The children will never know the truth without them."

"Then call them," Voldemort said firmly, his wand pointed at Aberforth.

"It is not that simple." He said, turning his face away. "You need the blood of a Host."

"You have two to choose from," Rose said with a raised eyebrow.

"Once they start bleeding, a portal will be opened to another dimension. The longer the portal is open, the more the wall between worlds disintegrates. The portal will not close until the blood stops flowing."

"Well, that lowers your options down to one." Rose said with a shrug. "So kill me, I'm immortal. Plus, I'm sure dying can't hurt that much."

"Are you insane?" Voldemort asked. He looked horrified with the idea, but because no one else was protesting, he would.

"Nope, I just want to be happy and safe. If that means dying for a few moments, then I'm fine with it."

"A few moments? Death is eternal!" Voldemort cried, his eyes glaring at her.

"Not for Vampyre. The only thing that truly kills us is being beheaded. If we die otherwise, we wake within hours. We wake weakened and tired and hungry, but we wake none the less." She shot Ryder a sideways glance, "I have survived death before." Voldemort nodded, defeated. "I am not afraid of death. I am afraid of losing you."

"I fear both," he muttered. "Pathetic aren't I?"

"No," she whispered so only he could hear. "Even the bravest man fears what they don't understand. I have known death; I am not afraid anymore."

"It will be well." Atticus said. Draco clung to Ryder's arm fearfully. He had been rather relived when no one suggested they murder Ryder. "By opening the portal, will the diaries come to us?"

"No, the other host must get them. He can bring help." Aberforth turned to face Ryder. As did everyone else in the room.

"No," Draco shouted. He held on tighter to Ryder's arm. "You keep leaving me."

"I ma not leaving. Think of it as me going to Durmstrang for the weekend." He smiled at the blond, who was trembling. "She will need to die, I will not. Think of it like that, love. Compared to Voldemort, you get off lucky."

"We will do this soon." Rose said with determination. She stood and pulled Voldemort out of the chair. "I want to show you my room."

"It's pink!" Ryder shouted out in warning as they left the room. Voldemort gave a slight wince. "We will be free soon." He whispered as the room emptied. Soon it was just he and Draco on the couch. Aberforth had gone to find the children, his parents and Lucius and Severus had gone to the dining room, and he and Draco were alone.

"I love you," Draco whispered, "come back to me."

"I always will."

XXX

Some of the first part of this chapter is taken from the last (chapter 11). The songs are "When You're Gone" by The Cranberries, and "Kissed By A Rose" by Seal. I wanted to add a light fluff scene. And singing works so well.

Thank you for reading and reviewing. Sorry if I sounded annoyed in the start of chapter A/N. See you later.