Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: I've found a new beta! Thanks to Tristifico for editing this for me, and also to Irihi Safaia, my last beta, for helping me for so long. Because of this change, you may find that this chapter is quite different from my previous chapters. All right then, on with the story!

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Friend or Foe

Chapter 27: Decisions

When Percy came to, he was standing in an unfamiliar place, but he had no recollection of how he had gotten here. He felt light-headed, as though he had just woken up from a long, pleasant dream. Looking up, he saw a man standing a short distance before him with a haughty smirk on his face, as if he was taunting him. Percy's mind supplied the name of the man seconds later. Lucius Malfoy.

That name struck him out from his daze and everything came back to him. His blood turned cold as the memories of what had transpired the night before rushed back in his mind.

He had been assaulted by Death Eaters and placed under the Imperious curse… Although Percy had been drowsy at that time, he recalled a voice chiming instructions at him through the haze in his mind, telling him what to do. Only now did it sink in. It had been Lucius Malfoy's voice. He vaguely remembered working in his office, talking to the Minister and…

Merlin, what else had he done?

A voice, frosty and cutting, sliced cleanly through the momentary silence, sending an icy chill down his spine. He knew that voice…

Having little success in calming himself, Percy slowly looked past Malfoy towards the other occupant in the room with growing dread. Deep inside him, he already knew who that was, but he still couldn't help gasping and taking a step back.

It was him, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the wizard that had started this whole war.

The Dark Lord was staring straight at him. As if sensing his fear, a twisted kind of amusement flashed across the pair of crimson eyes. Without looking away from Percy, the Dark Lord waved dismissively at Malfoy.

"You know what to do, Lucius."

Next to Percy, Malfoy nodded in understanding. "Yes, my Lord."

Malfoy left the room, but not before bowing deeply to the Dark Lord.

Percy's amazement allowed him to look away from You-Know-Who and stare after Malfoy. It was hard to believe that someone as arrogant as Lucius Malfoy could be ordered around like this.

"Power, young Weasley, that is all it is about."

Percy focused back to the Dark Lord. The realization that he was now alone with the darkest wizard in centuries slowly started to sink in, almost as if his senses had been previously numbed by shock. Was this some kind of nightmare? What was going on?

"Such power could be yours too, should you choose."

"What-" It took a while for the message to sink in. Percy's face froze at what the Dark Lord was implying. Was that why he was here? He was here, stuck in this nightmare, because the Dark Lord wanted to recruit him? He had thought it was over when he turned down Malfoy's offer, but he should have known that anything related to the Dark Lord would not end that easily. But why would He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, of all people, be that interested in him? Perhaps fear had made him slow, but Percy couldn't understand.

"I know all about you, Percy. I know what you want," said the Dark Lord. "You desire respect and recognition, do you not? Because of these –ah, powerful incentives, you left your family and went to work for the Ministry. But in the end, you were disappointed, no?" He leaned forward, his eyes boring into Percy's. "You want others to see you for who you are, but no matter how hard you try, no one was willing to pay any attention to you. You have ideas of your own about how things should be done, but all you have been asked to do are trivial matters. Does that not make you feel that you are wasting away there? Head Boy and top student in your year, and look what you are doing now."

Percy clenched his fists. "That's not true," he said through gritted teeth.

"Is it not?" countered the Dark Lord easily. "Can you honestly deny what I've said? Do you really feel nothing when you are forced to work for those that are inferior to you in everything but title?"

Percy realized in disgust that he wasn't able to retort right away. He knew he shouldn't even have to consider what the Dark Lord was saying. The answer was clear… wasn't it?

But try as he might, his heart could not deny what the Dark Lord had said. All through his life, Percy had always known a rule: that rewards came with effort. And so he had worked long and hard to get his current position in the Ministry, but even so, he had never been given any opportunity to make decisions. It had all been about following orders. And after the whole fiasco about hiding the Dark Lord's return from the public, Percy had become thoroughly disappointed with all the mistakes and wrong decisions that their government had made. Without a doubt, the political situation had to be changed. Yet Percy admitted to himself that with his current position, there was nothing he could do to make a difference.

"With power comes control. Being in the Ministry, you must have seen how that works, haven't you?" the Dark Lord pressed harder. "Join me, Percy, and you would have the kind of power and respect that you so desired."

That kind of power… was it really what he wanted?

For a second Percy's resolve, already crumbling, nearly faltered under the Dark Lord's persuasive words, but at that same moment memories of the recent months flashed across his mind - going home after months of living by himself, his Mum hugging him with tears on her face, the twins playing their 'homecoming' pranks on him...

His family. The family that he had almost lost in his own foolishness. The family that was infinitely more precious to him than anything power could offer.

Percy swore that he would not repeat his mistakes. Whatever the Dark Lord might be giving him, Percy knew now, it was not what he wanted. Taking in a deep breath to boost his determination, he lifted his head. And for the first time, Percy was able to look at the Dark Lord as one wizard to another.

"That's not true," he said firmly.

Strangely, that realization had helped calm him down. It cleared away the foggy doubts that he had been feeling since Malfoy- no, since after he had left his family last year. He couldn't pinpoint what it was that he truly wanted, but some inner feeling told him that whatever it was, he already had it. And he had had it for a long time.

The Dark Lord's expression suddenly changed, and with a simple narrowing of his eyes, what was persuasive –almost charming- turned fierce and angry. At that moment, under those piercing red eyes, Percy suddenly knew with painful clarity that with the way things were going, there was simply no way he could live through this meeting. He was going to die, young as he was. That fact caused a sickening feeling in his stomach.

Gritting his teeth, Percy forced those thoughts away. If he was going to die, he would die like a true Gryffindor, as a Weasley should.

Feeling more secure with himself than he had had for years, Percy knew his voice would not shake, nor would it come out weak. He told the Dark Lord calmly, "I will never join you, not now, not ever…Voldemort."

"Crucio!"

The curse hit him in the chest, sending waves of agony through his body. Percy screamed and fell on his knees as he felt as if a fire had been lit inside of him, and it was now relentlessly burning his flesh. He had never imagined this kind of pain could even exist.

After what seemed like ages, the pain stopped all of a sudden. One moment it was all fire and agony, and the next moment there was only a soothing numbness. Percy gasped for breath. He attempted to push himself up, but failed miserably.

Voldemort stared down at him in contempt. "What do you think you can accomplish by that, Weasley? In the end, you would die, nothing would be changed, and no one would ever remember how bravely you've tried to resist me."

Ignoring the blood that soaked his robe, Percy forced himself to stand up. He pulled out his wand with his shaky hand.

"No, you're wrong." His breathing was strained, but his voice was steady.

He couldn't say he did not fear death, but he knew that things would not be as Voldemort had said. Whatever was going to happen, he would be remembered, by those that were worth risking his life again and again to protect and to fight for. His didn't need supreme power, because it was his family and his friends that, ultimately, defined his own existence.

"I see Dumbledore's deceptive lies about 'love' still have their influences," said Voldemort, and it was frightening how he could make every word sound like a snarl. "You aren't an idiot, Weasley. Surely you are smart enough to see past those empty promises?"

"Just because you don't understand doesn't mean they are lies, Voldemort," said Percy.

Voldemort's eyes flashed with a merciless glint, causing Percy to shiver despite himself. He steeled himself and held his wand close. This nightmare was not over yet. More was to come before the end of the night.

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/Master Alex, are you sure you're all right?/

/I'm fine, Nagini,/ Harry glanced down at the huge snake resting her head on his lap. /We should head back now, it's getting dark./

Nagini slithered off his lap and back on the ground, her gaze never leaving Harry as he stood up from under a tree and brushed specks of dirt off his robe.

/I'm fine, don't worry,/ Harry repeated with a small smile.

Out of habit, he took one last look around the small clearing that had become his hiding place before making his way out of the forest.

/But you look really upset, and you won't tell me why,/ Nagini grumbled darkly as she followed, causing Harry to chuckle in both amusement and affection.

Harry made his way through the now familiar forest swiftly. The Inferi lurking somewhere in there still gave him chills at times, but for better or for worse, he had become far more comfortable in their presence than he was months ago. And lately, he had found himself spending more time outdoors in the forest with those unfeeling creatures than staying back in the manor.

Raising his wand, Harry steered away the Inferius that had been blocking his way. It was almost an afterthought that made him grimace at how casually he had just done that.

"Using the Dark Arts too, aren't we, Potter?"

After his meeting with Snape, Harry had gone back to the manor's library to look up more details concerning the spells that he had been using to control the Inferi. While they were nowhere as dark as the spells used to create them, those controlling spells were still considered as serious and advanced Dark Arts.

Thinking back, Harry found that though he had struggled initially, he had managed to grasp the usage of those spells fairly quickly after a while. By now, he could use them almost as easily as any normal charm. Was it because of the necessity of the situation? Or was it because of the general environment of the Dark Lord's lair? Either way, Harry didn't want to consider how much his own emotions had contributed to this rather accelerated learning process.

As he emerged from the forest, Harry couldn't stop himself from glancing towards the direction of the dungeon's entrance. He wondered how Snape was doing. The Potions Master's tortured form had never quite left his mind since their meeting, and much as he disliked the man, it was disturbing to see his former teacher in such a state.

Harry didn't think about what he had expected when he decided to go searching for Snape at Draco's request. Harry had known that the moment he revealed his identity to Snape, it was impossible not to have told the man what he had done. It shouldn't have been that hard since they had always loathed each other, but that was not true. Snape's words had hit him harder than even Draco's.

Harry wondered how the rescuing process was going. It had been nearly a week since he had passed the information of Snape's whereabouts to Draco. He had not seen Draco since then, but the blonde seemed to be planning something. Harry felt guilty about leaving Snape behind when he knew exactly what kind of danger the older man was in. Should he perhaps do more? But if he did, it would mean betrayal, and the Dark Lord was known for his ferocious punishment of traitors. Did he want to be marked as a traitor by both sides? Whichever way Harry looked at the situation, there was simply no way out. He sighed, frustrated by his own indecisiveness.

Without realizing it, he had reached the manor. Walking through the entrance, he passed by the door to the meeting hall on his way back to his room. He could hear Voldemort's voice coming from inside. Was it a meeting? Or was it… an interrogation of some new captives?

Harry shivered at the memories of the several Death Eater meetings that had been held in that room. Shaking his head, he carefully kept away from the door and climbed up the stairs that led to his room, unaware of what was happening behind that very door at that moment.

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"Still holding onto your fragile beliefs, I see."

Percy glared back at Voldemort, refusing to yield under the other's stare. He clenched his wand at his side. What he needed was an opening, a distraction. No matter how this was going to end, he refused to go down without a fight.

"You seem distinctly different from how your father perceived you," Voldemort paused as Percy froze. "Yes, your father. As loyal to the old fool as he might be, your father does know some interesting information."

A side door cracked open. Percy whirled around. His breath caught as he recognized the unconscious figure being levitated into the room.

"Dad!"

Lucius Malfoy stepped into the hall and released the levitation spell abruptly, dropping Percy's father on the ground roughly.

"Ennervate!"

Percy was by his father's side within a second. Malfoy merely watched with a smirk on his face as Percy helped his father sit up. Arthur Weasley was too weak to even stand, and Percy found himself shaking with barely controlled anger.

"Dad?" When his father didn't respond, Percy called out again, squeezing his father's shoulder gently as he did so. "Dad!"

It was many long seconds later when his father showed any sign of hearing him. He slowly, almost fearfully, turned his head towards Percy.

Percy didn't want to imagine what kind of torture his father had gone through. He forced himself to look into the pair of blue eyes that were so blank and empty, waiting for any sign of recognition.

"It's me, Dad," he said. "Percy."

"P…Percy?" his father choked out, his eyes still unfocused. "Why… why are…"

The rest of the sentence was too soft for Percy to catch. He clutched his wand, his previous caution all but forgotten.

"What have you done to him?" he gritted out, looking up at Malfoy.

Malfoy smirked, a sadistic twisting of his lips. "I've warned you before, haven't I, Mr. Weasley? I can't guarantee your father's safety forever. The longer you hesitate, the more danger he'll be in."

"You bastard!" Percy pushed himself up and raised his wand, only to find Malfoy's wand pointed right between his eyes.

"Don't mistake me, Mr. Weasley," drawled Malfoy. "If you want to know what was done to your father, why don't you ask yourself?"

"That's enough, Lucius." Voldemort's voice rang through the hall. The Dark Lord had been watching the scene in silence up until that point. "Leave us."

Malfoy looked disappointed, but that expression was quickly concealed. He kept his wand trained on Percy and raised an eyebrow mockingly.

With great effort, Percy swallowed his anger and grudgingly lowered his half-raised wand. Malfoy was not the one he had to deal with this time.

Shooting Percy a look filled with great contempt, Malfoy lowered his own wand. He turned to face the Dark Lord and bowed. "As you wish, my Lord."

Percy watched with bated breath as Malfoy left, then he straightened up and turned to face the only other occupant in the room. He willed himself to focus on the battle ahead.

Voldemort was a completely different kind of enemy from Malfoy. Despite Malfoy's numerous crimes, he was still human. Malfoy still had feelings. But Voldemort… Voldemort was a cold-blooded monster through and through, and because of that, there was no way to predict what the Dark Lord was planning next. Percy had no idea what was in store for him… or his father.

"Ah, I see you like my… gift, Percy," began the Dark Lord.

Wordlessly, Percy moved over to stand in front of his father, shielding him from Voldemort. He let this action speak more than anything else he could have said. "You'll have to kill me first."

"Courage alone will get you nowhere," said Voldemort. "Can't you see, Percy? I have in my hand a very powerful weapon. Or have you not considered why your father is still alive until now?"

Percy had wondered, of course, as painful as that thought was. And now, he tried to refuse acknowledging the answer that had become so obvious.

"If you think you can use my Dad to threaten me, you're wrong. I will not join you, no matter what," he said firmly. That was right, he told himself sternly, his father would never want him to do that.

Voldemort gave a chilly laugh. He seemed confident that Percy would join him eventually, but that made Percy all the more determined to prove him wrong.

"I see that your father's life alone is not enough to compel you to my side, but no matter." Voldemort continued in a hiss so quiet that Percy had to strain to hear, "Remember, young Percy, Lord Voldemort always gets what he wants, and I know just how to break a man like you."

Percy couldn't help but glance at his father. Whatever was coming, he could fight it, he had to, for both of them.

That seemed to be exactly what Voldemort had expected. The Dark Lord shook his head. "I have no intention to hurt your precious father, Percy," his said slowly, but the growing sneer in his voice was unmistakable. "No, whatever is going to happen to him, it will not be by my hand."

"What do you-"

The words died on Percy's lips as a vague image of something very terrible flashed across his mind.

"If you want to know what was done to your father, why don't you ask yourself?"

What Malfoy had said earlier suddenly came back to him, and Percy had an inkling that he knew what Malfoy had been talking about.

The mirth in the Dark Lord's crimson eyes was maddening now. "Tell me, how did it feel to torture your own father?"

"What-"

Percy stared back at his father in shock as a suppressed memory suddenly resurfaced.

"Crucio!"

He pointed his wand at the man inside the cell and watched emotionlessly as the man screamed and twitched on the floor. The man looked up, and their eyes met…

Looking into the same pair of eyes now, Percy involuntarily stumbled back. Panic seized him upon recalling the self-suppressed memory. Whatever composure he had felt just now had evaporated into nothing, leaving behind a dreadful guilt..

"So you do remember," a hissing voice reached his ears. Percy numbly turned around to face Voldemort.

Yes, he remembered it all – saying the incantation of one of the Unforgivables, hearing his Dad's scream and watching with a sickeningly pleasant yet empty feeling that he couldn't seem to shake off even now…and it had all been under the Imperius Curse. The fact that his actions had been under the control of a curse that he knew he couldn't fight was reassuring, but the unsettling fact remained that he had still tortured his own father.

"The Imperius Curse has its uses, that is true, but what I want is not a mindless puppet," said Voldemort, staring down at Percy from his throne. "No, what I need is a loyal, willing servant who can easily gain Dumbledore's trust. Even better if that person is already inside the old fool's circle."

Percy stiffened. A spy? Had the situation been different, he would have felt indignant that the Dark Lord would choose him out of all the other Order members to be his spy.

"But aside from direct control, there are still a lot that the Imperius Curse can do. Surely you know about that by now?" Percy had a dreadful feeling about where Voldemort was going. "Tell me, Percy, have you ever killed? You have already tried the Curciatus Curse, imagine what it would be like to kill your own father."

Percy froze. "No…"

"This kind of… attachment," Voldemort spared Percy's father a glance, "is nothing more than a weakness, and that is something Dumbledore has always failed to realize. Even though he knows it very well, he has never been willing to admit that this kind of ties can easily be broken," he looked straight into Percy's eyes, "and used."

Percy's eyes widened in fear as the Dark Lord rose from his throne and moved towards him. It was a totally different kind of fear than what he had felt moments ago when he was fighting for just his own life. Percy felt like he was being stalked by a cruel predator, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Yes, fear for what is to come, Percy. Nothing can break a man faster than fear." Voldemort's eyes were filled with monstrous glee. "Imagine what your family would say when you tell them that you and your own hand that killed your father. Or perhaps it would be better to watch the whole brood of them die one by one under your own wand?"

Percy broke. "No!" he shouted, raising his wand. "Stupefy!"

The Dark Lord calmly sidestepped his curse and-

"Imperio!"

Then everything became quiet. Suddenly, Percy felt as though all his previous worries had vanished, no, he now realized that they were not important at all. He allowed himself to relax into the pleasant, dream-like feeling…

Turn around…

He heard a voice echoing in his head. Nothing mattered more than obeying this voice.

Turn around….

He did as the voice said and found a man sitting on the floor before him. The man looked up wearily. He desperately tried to say something, but Percy paid him no mind.

Raise your wand, now… use the killing curse… raise your wand…

Percy felt his arm lifting, raising his wand. He aimed it at the man before him, then he-

NO!

Abruptly, he snapped out from that dream-like state. Percy looked down at his outstretched wand, then back at his father, and he stumbled backwards in blind horror as he realized what he had come very close to doing.

Still in shock, he turned around dully to find that the Dark Lord was not looking at him, but at the person standing by the doorway.

"Harry…"

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Harry took a few tentative steps into the room, still gauging the Dark Lord's reaction. He studiously avoided meeting the eyes of the two Weasleys, choosing only to focus on Voldemort.

"Get out, Potter!" Voldemort ordered.

Harry stopped a short distance from where Voldemort and Percy were and stood his ground. He knew that he had to do this, even though he had little idea of how he should proceed from here. It might be his inner Gryffindor, but there was no way he could just stand outside and act as if nothing had happened when he knew Percy's fate if he didn't interfere.

That was probably exactly what Lucius Malfoy had wanted. The elder Malfoy had told Harry, accompanied with his ever-present smirk, what Voldemort was doing to the Weasleys when he ran into Harry. Harry knew it could not be an accident that Malfoy "just happened" to meet him in the huge manor, since Malfoy had long seen him as a threat to his position within the Dark Lord's ranks. It was not surprising that Malfoy would want to set Harry up against Voldemort, knowing that Harry would never let the Weasleys come to harm. Harry knew that this was Malfoy's plan to get rid of him without implicating himself, but Harry had chosen to charge straight into the trap anyway.

"Could you not hear that I ordered you to leave?" Voldemort spat, harshly. Then he switched to parseltongue. /Take him back to his room, Nagini!/

Nagini, who had come along with Harry, first looked up at him, then swiveled her head to Voldemort, obviously caught in some sort of dilemma. Finally she turned back at Harry.

/Let's leave,/ she hissed. Then, seeing Harry had no intention to move, she slithered up to him pleadingly. /Please, Master Alex./

Voldemort stiffened. Harry could feel Nagini recoil from beside his feet as she realized her mistake. While Nagini had insisted calling Harry her 'Master Alex' in private, she had been careful in never doing so in front of Voldemort – even she could foretell what kind of trouble it might cause. But after spending so much time with Harry lately, it seemed such a slip was inevitable. Only that it was a very untimely slip.

/So he is your master now?/ hissed Voldemort in a dangerous voice.

/No! Master, please-/

Voldemort snarled. /Worthless creature!/

Before Harry could react, a jet of light hit Nagini, banishing her violently from the room.

There was no time for Harry to worry about Nagini as Voldemort snapped his attention to him. Self-consciously, Harry reached down for his wand.

Voldemort caught his movement and bared his teeth in a snarl. "Is that how you want to finish this?" he said in a low voice. In an instant, his wand was raised and pointed at Harry's forehead. "Are you trying to betray me, Potter?"

Harry dared not move. Now was not the time for that answer, he told himself. The Weasleys' safety was his greatest concern at the moment and that was what he should be concentrating on. He had to calm down and think rationally.

It was not a matter of loyalty, not yet. Harry knew for a fact that they stood no chance at all in a direct duel against Voldemort. He might have thought differently before, but with past experience and his months as a Death Eater, Harry had seen first hand exactly what kind of power Voldemort wielded. He had come to realize that it was indeed because of pure luck that he had survived his first four years at Hogwarts, but now…

He glanced at the two Weasleys in the room. No, it was not a situation that they could depend on luck to save them. He couldn't bring them into any more danger than they were already in.

Slowly, Harry released his grip on his own wand and let his hand fall to his side. From the corner of his view, he could see Percy shake his head, almost in resignation.

"I just don't want to see them hurt," said Harry quietly, well aware that Voldemort's wand was still pointing at him.

"Whether they are harmed or not is for me to decide." There was a dangerous undertone in Voldemort's voice. Seconds later, he finally lowered his wand. "Get out now, Potter, or do you wish you stay here and watch?"

Harry gritted his teeth. He had to think of something. What should he-

"Fight him, Harry!" Percy chose that moment to yell out. "Together we can do this!"

Two things happened then: Voldemort slashed his wand downwards in a brutal motion and Percy's scream rang out through the hall.

"Percy!" Without thinking, Harry rushed over to the redhead's side.

Percy let out a painful grunt as Harry reached him and knelt down. He was clenching a side of his face with his hand so tightly that his knuckles were white. Harry paled as he saw a tremendous amount of blood was pouring through Percy's fingers, and upon closer inspection he saw a deep cut running right across Percy's left eye. Harry carefully laid a hand on Percy's back, supporting him to a sitting position. Despite the pain he must have been in, Percy's blue eye, the remaining one, met Harry's squarely; his message was clear. As Percy lifted his head to face Voldemort again, his gaze was burning with resolve. Harry couldn't remember seeing the normally stoic Percy showing this kind of desperate emotion before. The will to fight till the end, the courage to fight for what he believed was right; it made Harry's heart cringe with a strange sense of… longing.

Putting away his concern over Percy for the moment, Harry looked up bleakly. He was not surprised to find Voldemort staring down at them in pure, bitter contempt.

"Fools. Do you think this kind of resistance can triumph over Lord Voldemort?" he asked, but it was not a question that they had to answer. His gaze shifted to Percy. "I see you are not ready to receive the power I was going to give you. What a shame that you will not live to have a second chance."

For the second time that day, Harry reached for his wand. Beside him, Percy had just retrieved his fallen wand from the floor with his free hand, but Harry, hand still on Percy's back, could feel him quickly slipping away from blood loss. It was up to him now.

"And you," Voldemort now addressed Harry, "I've warned you before. I do not tolerate disobedience," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "Be glad that I will not kill you at the moment, but your actions warrant… punishment."

"No!"

Percy cried, face chalk-white, just as Harry realized who Voldemort was targeting. Harry leaped to his feet and raised his wand- but it was too late, Voldemort was too quick for him-

"Avada Kedavra!"

A sickly green jet of light shot through the air, missing Harry's chin by inches. It flew passed him, seemingly unstoppable… until it collided straight into Mr. Weasley's chest.

Mr. Weasley's body fell soundlessly onto the ground, his once warm and kind blue eyes now staring blankly at them. Percy was fixed on his father in horrified silence. With every ounce of the willpower he had left, Harry pushed back all his emotions just as he usually did in a raid. The fight had barely begun..

He turned his head back to the Dark Lord with his wand still outstretched. He looked up slowly, and for the first time in months, all Harry could see was Lord Voldemort, not Tom Riddle.

For a moment, Harry felt as though he was back in the graveyard of his fourth year, where he had faced Voldemort for the first time. It had also been a duel with each of them holding the other at wand point, only it was a very different situation now. It had been so much easier to hate his opponent then, but now… it was the one situation that Harry had dreaded since Nicolas had told him the prophecy. Still, he held his wand steadily, his eyes staring straight into the Dark Lord's own.

"So this is your decision," said Voldemort in a bland, toneless voice, "I see."

Harry's mind was still frozen at what had happened since he stepped into the room. All he knew now was that he had to fight, for Percy and the Weasleys, if not for himself. He would not let the family that was so dear to him to lose two members in one day. Not if he could do anything to prevent it. Harry swore that he would fight if it was the only way he could help, even though his mind told him fighting was nothing but a reckless move with no chance of succeeding. But there was no way around it… or was there?

Was there, perhaps, a way to save Percy without this fight?

It was then something resurfaced in his mind. A memory, from his other life in the past.

"The life debt." As soon as the words left his lips, Harry knew that there was no turning back now. In more ways than one, mentioning this would break something that could never be repaired.

"What did you say, Potter?" Voldemort hissed. Though it was a question, his look of distaste suggested that he had heard what Harry said clearly.

Harry lowered his wand slowly.

"The life debt," he repeated. "Fifty years ago… in the Chamber of Secrets. You swore a life debt then."

"Harry?" Percy's voice was weak, but the question in it was clear.

Harry shook his head, still not looking away from Voldemort. Now was not the time for explanation. There was a tense silence as Voldemort stood still, his red eyes unreadable. None of the Dark Lord's thoughts could seep through their connection and Harry had no way of guessing what was going to happen. It was after a long pause that Voldemort spoke in a strained voice.

"And what do you want with that, Potter? Are you trying to beg for your life?"

Harry was surprised that Voldemort would even acknowledge that debt, but he was in no mind to analyze that fact.

"No," he replied at once. He inclined his head towards Percy. "His life."

Voldemort's snake-like features contorted in anger, making Harry jerk in alarm. Would that work? It had been a long time ago, and it had not been a debt that Harry, or 'Alex', had wanted to accept in the first place. Perhaps Harry should never have bought that up, perhaps it was a mistake to remind the Dark Lord of-

Voldemort waved his wand towards the entrance. "Leave, Weasley," he commanded. "I do not guarantee how long the path leading outside will remain clear."

"What-"

Harry turned to look at Percy. "Go, Percy," he nearly shouted.

Percy seemed to understand the situation well enough despite his weakened state, yet he hesitated. He looked at Harry, then at his father, still clenching his wand tightly. It was then Harry realized that Percy did not want to run away at all. Percy wanted to fight. Of course, that was understandable since Mr. Weasley had just been-

Harry shook his head. Percy's bleeding was getting worse and Harry knew the redhead needed a healer quick. It was no time for recklessness. However Percy might feel, Harry's priority was to get him to safety.

"Go, Percy, please," he whispered. Harry took in a deep breath to compose his inner turmoil. "Go!"

Percy gritted his teeth and slowly pushed himself onto his feet. He was trembling and his good eye showed the pain he was in. He stared wordlessly at Voldemort for a long time, a mixture of grief, anger, and helplessness evident in his face before he finally turned away. With one last glance at his father, Percy clenched his fists and ran out of the room.

When the door slammed shut again, Harry reluctantly looked up at Voldemort, dreading his reaction. The Dark Lord's expression was unreadable as always. Neither of them spoke or moved for a long time. Finally, Voldemort turned away in silence. He did not bother to spare Harry a single glance as he swept past him and left.

Harry sank to the ground once the door closed behind the Dark Lord. Like Percy, he was trembling madly. Helplessly, he hugged his knees close to his chest, seeking for the comfort that he knew could never be found.

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It might not have been obvious for most Death Eaters, but things had changed since that disastrous meeting between Harry and Voldemort. Two weeks had passed since then. Everything seemed to be going on as per normal in the residence of the Dark Lord, but someone sensitive enough would sense an air of restlessness surrounding the place.

The source of this uneasiness was caused by the continuous silence of the Dark Lord. The raids were still going on, but it was apparent that Voldemort's attention was not on them.

Ever since that day, Harry had been feeling sporadic surges of anger coming from Voldemort. It was unlike anything he had felt from the Dark Lord before, but Harry couldn't identify exactly what the difference was.

Sighing, Harry lay flat on his bed and shut his eyes. Images of what had happened that day were still plaguing him. There was no way for him to find out how the Weasleys were coping with Mr. Weasley's death; he didn't even know if Percy had survived the injury from Voldemort's curse.

Groaning, Harry ran a hand through his hair. He didn't want to think about anything related to Voldemort at all. Something was happening, definitely, but what was it?

So far Voldemort had not come to his room even once. There was no punishment for what he had done two weeks ago, nor were there any signs suggesting that Voldemort had any plans concerning him. There was simply nothing, nothing but an ever increasing feeling of dread, and that was a kind of torture in itself.

There was very little Harry could do but wait, and he hated every second of it. In a way, he knew whatever that was coming could not be good. The mess between him and Voldemort had now run so deep that Harry simply couldn't see how he could even begin clearing it up, or understanding it, for that matter.

Friends or foes. If only things could be that simple.

He sat up as his scar began to tingle again, which was immediately followed by another surge of anger flowing through his scar. Normally this would stop within minutes, but not this time; something was different this time-

Harry gasped as the pain in his scar rapidly intensified. He bit his lip hard enough that blood flowed, and tried to strengthen his mental shield. Voldemort was furious right now, and that anger… It was directed at Harry.

The pain subsided a little as Harry continued to work on Occluding his mind, but it was not completely gone, as the overwhelming anger that Harry had sensed from Voldemort was still smoldering. Coupled with what he knew of the situation, Harry could only think of several possible conclusions of what had just happened, and all of them pointed to the one piece of information that Voldemort had been trying to get from Snape.

A sense of foreboding rushed over him. If his suspicions were correct, then that would mean Snape was now in great danger. Before Harry could decide on what to do, he heard a voice coming from outside his door.

/Master Alex!/

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise and hastily opened the door. Nagini slithered into the room. She looked almost relieved when she saw Harry.

Harry hurried to her side. /Nagini/

He had not seen Nagini for two weeks, and had worried that something might have happened to her. Seeing the snake now, Harry was glad to see that she seemed fine.

/Master has forbidden me to look for you,/ explained Nagini, still scanning him from head to feet. /Were you injured in any way, Master Alex? Did anything happen to you that day? Are you-/

/I'm fine, Nagini,/ said Harry, allowing himself a grim smile before turning completely serious again. /Didn't you say the Dark Lord has forbidden you to come here? You should go back, you know how he punishes-/

/No!/ Nagini sounded desperate now. /I was in the dungeon with Master just now. He was interrogating that traitor, and I think he found out something… something about you./ Nagini hesitated, still avoiding Harry's gaze, then she slowly lifted her head. /I…. I think he might want to kill you, Master Alex./

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A/N: So Voldemort finally breaks into Severus' mind and finds out about the prophecy. Harry is in danger, but he is not the only one. Two more chapters before the end. There might be a sequel, or there might not, you'll know the answer after reading the next chapter.