Author's Note: For the people who want me to update more, I've updated eighteen times in less than three months. That's more than most can say. If there is a problem with that then that's just too bad, now isn't it? I have a life. The rest of you, hello again and have fun!

Disclaimer: Is it mine? No. Is it yours? Possibly. Is it awesome? Yes.

Warning: Language. Violence. Slash. Non-slash. (Male/Female)

(***Remus Lupin***)

Remus looked from Hermione to Voldemort and back over to Hermione again. This was dangerous; a little too dangerous for his likings. Yet the two seemed completely serious and even proud of themselves. It was like they were playing a game of chess and both had found a perfect opportunity for checkmate. The only problem being that Harry was the king on each individual side. It was just as obvious that Voldemort wasn't working for Harry's happiness and Hermione was. It was too bad that the road to hell was paved with good intentions. So, with the best of intentions, Remus stepped in. After all, how much worse could it get?

"I believe we should warn Harry about this little meeting first." His voice came out softly, but everyone heard. Voldemort showed no signs of caring, but Hermione blushed immediately.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I should have- I'll go-" She stopped abruptly, freezing just before reaching the door. "Um, we have a problem." Chocolate brown eyes glanced around the room before focusing on the floor. "I can't get to him." At that, Remus's brows furrowed.

"Well, why not?" Sirius asked the question after a few moments, but Hermione didn't look up.

"You see, when Harry wants to think, he goes to the Quidditch Pitch, but it's full of people and he doesn't just want to think. He wants to be alone. When Harry wants to be alone, he goes…" This time, she let her voice fade, clearly not comfortable saying where the Boy-Who-Lived was.

"Spit it out already, Mudblood!" Bellatrix near yelled; the insult added on with an insane grin. Remus watched Hermione carefully, but instead of the expected flinch, her head snapped up. Normally warm brown eyes were frozen in halfway controlled rage.

"When he wants to be alone, he goes to the Chamber of Secrets, where only he can go." Immediately after the words escaped her lips, she closed her eyes tightly, visibly regretting it. "Damn it." Though the words were mere whispers under her breath, Remus's highly sensitive ears easily picked it up. "You can't go get him. That's his sanctuary. You can't ruin that for him." Though Remus was watching intensely, Hermione's eyes were focused on Voldemort. Blue eyes watched her lips tremble lightly, just as her voice had. No matter how protective she was of Harry, Hermione wasn't strong enough – mentally or physically – to stand up to the Dark Lord on her own. Voldemort ignored her, or, at least, ignored her words as he stood with a triumphant, almost lazy air about him. Crimson eyes zoned in on Hermione, most likely noticing the same things that Remus had.

"Can't I?"

"No, you can't. Harry is… When Harry wants to be alone, he gets left alone. You interrupt him and there's no telling what will happen to you." Granger's words sounded half threat and half warning. Voldemort paid her no heed as he walked towards the door, slowly shifting into his older form. If he was about to do what Remus thought he was about to do then the entire meeting was pointless.

(***Draco Malfoy***)

Draco watched Voldemort leave the room with shielded grey eyes. With the Dark Lord out of the room, there was nothing stopping his father from going off.

"Draco?" The word was like burning silk from the eldest Malfoy's tongue, and Draco couldn't remember ever hating his name more than he did at that moment. "Were all of those dueling lessons for nothing?" The young blonde hated it when his father asked things like that, never knowing if the man actually wanted an answer or not. "Well?" Well what? Draco kept his face straight as he tried to think of a response to the now obviously non-rhetorical question. But what was he supposed to say? 'I'm sorry that Harry Potter, the bane of your existence, is a better duelist than I am?' 'My bad, Father. I'll just add another hour or so of dueling to my already rigorous schedule. After all, eating isn't actually a necessity, right?' Or, better yet, 'Don't worry, I swear that next time I'm completely humiliated by him I'll just commit suicide and you won't have to worry about political scandal anymore!' Yeah, that would blow over well…

"It really wasn't his fault, Mr. Malfoy." Granger stepped in yet again, most likely deciding that since Potter wasn't there to play hero she would have to do it instead. Two pairs of grey eyes turned to the only Mudblood in the room with equally frightening glares. Both were warning her to mind her own business. She didn't listen. "Harry's powerful. Not even you would have stood a chance against him." For a spilt second, Draco's glare turned pleadingly to Blaise, but was back on Granger at full force less than a moment later. Blaise wouldn't step in. He knew better. He knew that fighting back against the Head of the Malfoy House would only make things worse in the end.

"I'd prefer you didn't put me down to your level, Mudblood. There is no way that a child could defeat me." Granger didn't back down, and as thankful as Draco was not to have to deal with his father at the moment, he knew that it would only get worse as time went on. Minutes passed before a sneer etched itself onto Lucius's face and the man unfolded his tall body from its seating position. "Narcissa, Draco, come." Quite clearly, his father was not pleased. With a feeling of dread in his stomach, Draco stood. Out of his peripheral vision, Draco saw Narcissa's comforting, perfectly manicured hand come towards his shoulder. It didn't make it. Instead, a larger, more menacing hand gripped his shoulder blade, causing him to internally wince. Damn the Mudblood for sticking her nose where it didn't belong. Granger looked from the three Malfoys to the other members of the room, none of which looked ready to step in. They all knew their place; all knew Draco's place. It was hopeless.

"You know, Hermione, he's right." The werewolf's voice echoed throughout the room with light humor, causing Lucius to pause and the hand on his shoulder to tighten. Draco risked a glance at his old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The man had a humorless smile taped to his face. "There's no way that a child could defeat him. Why else would he take out his anger on a boy who's seen a mere seventeen summers?" At that, the grip became bruising. "Why else wouldn't he go against someone his own size; his own age?"

"Is that a challenge?" Lucius barely waited a moment before questioning the ex-professor with an ice cold voice. The noticeably fake smile didn't waver.

"It's possible." At Lupin's words, the room changed around them, transforming into a dueling platform and standing space around it. The hand gave a painful squeeze before letting go.

"Fine. Allow me to show my son what real dueling is." And then the eldest Malfoy separated his wand from his cane, shoving the cane part into Draco's hands immediately after. Draco hated that cane, wanted to drop it like it was on fire, but he didn't. The consequences would be greater than the relief. Rodolphus stood in the middle of the platform, charm removed, with a nearly amused look on his face. On each end stood a man itching for a win, but while Draco's father looked confidant, the werewolf had an almost bitterly calm aura about him.

"This is a no bars match between Lucius Malfoy and Remus Lupin. For the sake of avoid the Dark Lord's wrath, please try and avoid killing each other." Boredom laced the Lestrange's words, but Draco had long before learned to read between the lines. Rodolphus was completely serious, and didn't just want to avoid the wrath of the Dark Lord. He knew that if Draco's father killed Lupin then Potter would be at someone's throat. Rodolphus could see just like Draco could, just like Lucius couldn't, that Potter didn't get lucky. Potter was powerful, and Granger was right. None of them would stand a chance. At least, Draco would like to think that none of them would stand a chance. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Draco believed that if Potter joined the Dark side then he could re-extend his hand and that, maybe, Potter would accept the offer this time. But who knew, perhaps Rodolphus could beat Potter? After all, he was the Dark Lord's right hand man. Draco let a small sigh slip through his lips; through his mask. Was it sad that somewhere inside he was still a First year wanting to gain a new friend?

"Begin." Rodolphus's almost lazy voice interrupted Draco's thought process, leaving him wondering how he had missed the entire beginning process.

"Avis Oppugno!" Lupin shouted simultaneously with Lucius's Confringo curse. A flock of birds flew from the werewolf's wand, heading in a dangerously quick formation for the Head of the Malfoy House. The blast of magic shooting from Lucius's wand caused most of the birds to burst into flames and fall harmlessly to the ground, but some escaped, refusing to be defeated so easily. A simple Diffindo got rid of the rest of them. Yet, while Draco's father was casting that, he didn't have time to do anything other than dodge the Expelliarmus charm heading straight for him.

"Trust a supposedly dark being to try and use a simple disarming charm in a time like this." Blaise said from beside of him, barely heard over Sirius Black's shouts of encouragement towards 'Moony.'

"Expulso!" Draco watched in near amazement as his father was forced to dodge yet again. A piece of the platform exploded, blasting both small and large pieces against the wall. Faintly, Draco wondered if the wolf had forgotten about the whole 'don't kill your opponent' deal.

"Incendio!" Lucius shouted, his voice filled with anger. The flames burst from the eldest Malfoy's wand and covered everything on the other side of the room. Anything and everyone in its way was charred. Rodolphus moved out of the way quickly enough and both the ex-Auror and Draco's mother cast a protection charm over the rest of them while Bellatrix let out a less than sane laugh, covering Granger's horrified gasp and Blaise's interested hum. For a moment, the only thing in the room was fire, burning and eating away at the platform, at Lupin. On an off note, Draco wondered why Lupin wasn't screaming. That question was answered less than a moment later as said man rushed from the flames, completely unharmed. Yet, it wasn't a spell that the werewolf threw at Lucius, but a punch. Instantaneously, the fire stopped, and Lucius stumbled backwards, a bruise already forming on his face.

"Immobulus." The almost whispered word cast a spell that traveled less than an inch from the tip of Lupin's wand to Lucius's chest, knocking the man backwards and to the ground. In the safety of his mind, Draco felt satisfaction at his father's loss. "Don't worry, Lucius. That will wear off in a few hours." As Remus Lupin, ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts professor strode off of the platform and over to them, Draco felt an odd sense of respect forming in his chest. Truthfully, he wasn't sure whether to push it away or hold it close. A second later, the same wand that had defeated his father moments ago was pointed at him, more specifically, his shoulder.

"Episkey." The pain in his shoulder that Lucius's grip had inevitably caused vanished, leaving Draco gripping helplessly onto the growing sense of respect. Never before had anyone other than his mother stopped to heal him; tried to and succeeded in standing up to his father not out of some stupid sense of right and wrong, but for him. Without another word, Lupin left the room. Without any thought on his part, Draco followed, this time with a comforting, perfectly manicured hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. Strangely enough, he didn't feel even the smallest urge to look over his shoulder for a last look at his father.

(***Lucius Malfoy***)

Lucius watched with fury burning in his eyes as the werewolf walked out of the room; walked out of the room with his family. Blaise followed after a moment more of staring at Lucius's almost lifeless form, Granger slipping her hand into his and twining their fingers just before leaving the room.

"Know your limitations, Lucius." Rodolphus spoke those words as if the loss was nothing, as if he had expected such an outcome. Perhaps he did. Lucius could never tell. Grey eyes saw feet step closer and closer, echoing against the tile floor effortlessly. A hand gripped onto his arm and rolled him over onto his back, onto the rubble that remained on the platform. The small pain was like salt in his wounds, adding pointless irritation to the ultimate humiliation. Yet, Rodolphus didn't stop and cast a simple counter curse to free him. "He's correct. It will wear off in a few hours." And, just like that, Rodolphus walked away. Two pairs of footsteps walked out of the room, though Lucius could no longer tell who they belonged to, his head turned towards the blank charred wall of the Room of Requirements. Off-key giggles bounced around the room, letting Lucius know that it had been Sirius Black who had followed Rodolphus out. At her laughter, Lucius began to think; to plot. He began to do the only thing he could. Soon enough, he would take his place at the top of society, where he was supposed to be, no matter who tried to get in his way.

(***Sirius Black***)

Sirius wasn't sure why he had stayed behind after Remus had left. That wasn't true. He had been waiting for Rodolphus, what he wasn't sure of was why.

"Why didn't you use a counter curse? Not that I'm complaining, since the git totally deserved it, but even Deatheaters have some sort of loyalty for each other, right?" Sirius asked, feeling much like Remus with his overpowering thirst for knowledge. Trust the Black Family curiosity to do that to you. Rodolphus turned to him, the concealing charm settled back over his body and eyes, and regarded him carefully.

"Some of us do." It was obviously a guarded answer, but Sirius was fine with that. Remus was the same way at first, just not quite so much. It didn't really matter considering Sirius was incredibly stubborn and had already dubbed the Deatheater a new friend. In the back of his mind, he knew that was a stupid decision, especially since Harry was possibly staying on the Light's side, or at least leaning more towards being on the Light's side, but he hadn't been able to resist. No, he had went against everything that his Auror training had taught him and was now trying to strike up a friendship with one of the most wanted men of their time. Truthfully, there was something about Rodolphus that was pulling Sirius in; something darkly entrancing that tugged at Sirius's magical interests. The Dark side of him, the Black side, wanted what Rodolphus was offering: to be released, to be used. Light magic was wondrous, but it wasn't satisfying. It didn't make him feel alive. In all reality, the reason that he had turned away from his family hadn't been because of his hatred of Dark magic, but because he saw what the Dark was doing to them. As much as he wanted to use the Dark Arts, he wanted to be himself more. Everyone in his family had gotten lost in the Dark Arts and the power that it had promised.

"You're not one of them?" Sirius would be slightly surprised if that were the case because that was where Rudy drew him in. Rodolphus Lestrange was definitely neck deep in the Dark Arts, but he remained in control.

"Faintly. I have my loyalties, but only to certain people. Lucius, however, does not." Sirius nodded as Rodolphus turned into a secret passageway that Sirius wasn't aware existed. Then again, they were in Slytherin territory. There was no way he could have known about it. They reached what looked to be an abandoned classroom turned Common room before Rodolphus spoke again, the charm melting away in the process. "And what about you? Do you have your loyalties?" There seemed to be an underlying question in the soft inquiry, but Sirius couldn't quite figure out what it was. So, deciding to trust his gut, Sirius answered anyways.

"Of course I do! I wasn't the greatest to my family, but I love my friends. Once I find someone, I won't betray them for the world, Rudy." Sirius grinned while saying that because it was true. He wouldn't let down his friends if his life depended on it. Brown eyes roved over Sirius with a strange intensity that the Black wasn't quite sure he understood.

"Good. And you want to learn the Dark Arts, don't you? More importantly, you want to learn how to control it." Sirius wasn't sure how Rodolphus knew that. He wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed the nearly husky tint to the older man's voice before. He wasn't sure why he was noticing it now. Sirius swallowed, trying to wet his suddenly dry mouth.

"Yeah, um, Rudy? Why are we here?" Why was it suddenly so hard to think? Suddenly, those deep brown eyes were closer than they had ever been before, and Sirius was drowning in them.

"We're here to start your lessons." Sirius's breath hitched a bit. Lessons? "Yes, Sirius. Lessons." Damn. Had he said that aloud? A small chuckle told him that yes, he had said it out loud. "You want to learn about Dark Arts, don't you?" Steel grey eyes trailed down to Rodolphus's perfect lips as he said those words. They were so close. "Of course you do. You've just been waiting for an instructor worthy enough to teach you." Close enough to kiss. Rodolphus leaned even closer, his hot breath coming out evenly, something Sirius's seemed to have forgotten how to do. The lips got even closer, close enough to just barely brush against Sirius's own. "Isn't that right?" At that moment, Sirius knew that it was up to him. Rodolphus wasn't going to take him unless Sirius asked for it.

"I…" He what, exactly? He wanted to feel those soft lips on his own, wanted to know what it would be like to be consumed by the darkness which flowed so elegantly from Rodolphus's form? Suddenly, stormy grey eyes lost some of their haze. No. He didn't want to be consumed. He wanted to be in control. He wanted to be Sirius Black, not bow to the whim of someone else; do anything to get one more taste of that dark magic. "No." With that last, breathy whisper, Sirius pushed Rodolphus away and ran for all he was worth. Though he wasn't sure why he had to run, he did. He got away from Rodolphus and his entrancing eyes, away from the alluring smell of fruit and smoke, and away from those perfect lips. He wasn't sure why. But that didn't matter. He wasn't sure about a lot of things at the moment.

(***Rodolphus Lestrange***)

Rodolphus looked at the door which Sirius had ran through at a nearly break neck speed with hungry amusement in his eyes. While a certain part of his anatomy was disappointed that Sirius hadn't given in, the refusal had only managed to simulate the rest of him further. Oh, how he loved a chase. And what a chase it would be. He had seen the lust grow in Sirius's eyes, heard the man's heart speed up, felt the incredibly dark, unused magic trying to claw its way through the fragile shield of light magic. He had felt what would soon be his and loved it. The experience had only made his cravings grow stronger. And they would be satiated, he knew for sure. One of these days, Sirius Black would be his. All it would take was time. Rodolphus gave him a week.

There was a day to get over his loss of control. Two days to sort out his emotions. Three days to be courted. And a final day to be taken. Yes, Sirius Black had one week, and then he would belong to Rodolphus. A low chuckle fell out of his throat as Rodolphus eased into his favorite chair in the Slytherin's secret common room and pulled out what had once been his favorite book. With thoughts of Sirius panting beneath him running through his mind, Rodolphus began to read. Life had never been so good.

(***Tom Riddle***)

Tom wasn't going to go down to the Chamber of Secrets to find Harry. No, Harry didn't share his hatred for muggles. No, Harry didn't know or understand the pain that muggles had put him through, but if nothing else, Tom knew the importance of the Chamber of Secrets. He knew the safety and protection of the Chamber and, in that aspect, could see himself in Harry. He could see his seventeen year old self sitting and talking to the basilisk, dreaming of his soon-to-be-rule. For a moment, Tom wondered if Nagini would like Harry. Certainly, she would enjoy having someone else to speak to. It was a frivolous thought that had Tom's old man form giving a shaky smile. A random student smiled back at him. She had a Hufflepuff's uniform and was obviously contemplating over something important. Most likely her views on the war; on Harry Potter. Everyone he had seen so far seemed to be doing that. They were all rethinking what had once been definite and unquestionable morals. Tom found it one of the most amusing things he had seen in a century. Minutes passed endlessly before Tom finally reached his target: Severus Snape. The man didn't bow, though the respect and fear showed in his eyes. Tom knew without a doubt that if they were alone, the Potions Master would be on the ground.

"Ah, Severus. It's good to see you again. Might we have a chat?" Tom's voice shook like a kindly old man's should; full of care with a tinge of forgetfulness. Severus gave a curt nod, knowing not to speak out of turn, even in public; especially in public. With that done, they began to make their way through the ever thinning crowd, Tom's hand latched lightly onto the teacher's forearm. Dumbledore was the first to try and stop them.

"Evening, Severus, James. I hope you enjoyed the match." It was clear that Dumbledore was happy to see Tom leaning so trustingly on Severus, believing that as long as Harry was in his grasp, so was the Potion's Master. He failed to realize that Tom had spotted Severus's wavering loyalty and made sure that the man knew his place; made sure that he valued Draco over Lily. Besides, Tom was positive that Harry would be joining the Dark side soon enough. Then there would be absolutely nothing tying the man down.

"Oh, it was marvelous! And did you see the Potter boy? His use of magic was simply brilliant, don't you agree?" Tom engaged Albus in friendly conversation, voice quivering. His seemingly frail body trembled as Tom leaned partially on his cane and partially on Severus.

"Yes, yes. He's one of our best students, you know. We have high hopes for him here." Dumbledore's words weren't nearly as wobbly as Tom's but that was understandable. Dumbledore was odd.

"I suppose you do. In fact, I heard that you're resting the fate of the war on his shoulders. That's quite a lot to expect from a teenage boy, don't you think?" The banter they were skillfully tossing back and forth was nowhere near as friendly as it sounded.

"Possibly, but he's well prepared. I have much faith in him. What about you, Severus? You two get along well enough." The secret smile that the old fool had curve on his lips at putting Severus in such a position had Tom's nails digging lightly into the potion teacher's Dark Mark, making sure that the man knew to choose his words wisely. A sneer curled on the younger man's lips before Severus finally answered.

"You know my position on the boy, Albus." Tom felt light amusement at the retort, knowing that Albus had absolutely no clue about his position. The Headmaster of Hogwarts gave a small chuckle, eyes twinkling, before nodding.

"Of course, of course. Speaking of Harry, would you happen to know where he ran off to? I was thinking he might like to join me for a lemon drop in my office, as a sort of prize for his winning of the tournament." Just as the deceiving merriment twinkled in Albus's eyes, malicious cruelty glinted in Tom's.

"Yes, actually. We just saw him." Tom made sure that his voice shook extra while purposefully adding a husky tint to his words. "He looked rather ruffled." Instantaneously, the joviality in Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes flickered.

"Ah. I see. Well, I really must be going. If you'll excuse me…" Swiftly, Dumbledore gave a smile and walked off. Tom loosened his grip before beginning to walk towards his destination once more. He had just bought both Harry and himself some time; time which Harry would pay him back for later. But at the moment, Draco needed to be separated from Lucius, and Severus was going to be the one to do it.

(***Harry Potter***)

Harry sat up, his muscles aching from sleeping on the cold, hard floor for so long. How long had it been since he had allowed himself to cry? In his groggy state, he couldn't be sure. With a groan, he stood, bones creaking in protest. A quick spell told him the time: 1:07 in the morning. When considering the fact that his only way back up was through the Slytherin common rooms, that wasn't a good thing. He knew from experience that the Slytherins were light sleepers. Harry closed his eyes for one last moment of peace before opening them again and beginning the trek up to the Slytherin common room. He had to be careful about this. After checking to see that the coast was clear and reminding himself that breathing was alright, Harry slowly opened the secret passageway. He made it three steps before a smooth voice interrupted him.

"Potter." Green eyes moved over to the man in the green and silver chair which had been in his blind spot.

"Malfoy." There was no venom in Harry's tone. It was just as placid as the blonde's had been. The pureblood didn't respond. Gradually, Harry nodded to the only other man in the room. Said man nodded back. For just a moment, they had a truce, though Harry had no idea why, he wasn't about to fight it. Without another word, he walked towards the exit. As quietly as a spider, Harry strode towards the exit. Just as the portrait swung shut behind him, a beautifully familiar magic assaulted his senses. It assaulted his senses just as he ran into an incredibly hard chest. With a wary feeling in the pit of his stomach, Harry lifted his head. Crimson met emerald.

"Fuck." This just wasn't his day.

(***Tom Riddle***)

Tom could have licked his lips at the delicious sight before him: Harry Potter pressed close to his body with dulled yet defiant green eyes. Fuck, indeed.

"Hello, Harry. Is that how you greet all of your enemies?" Tom inquired easily and Harry stepped back, green eyes glinting craftily and magic spiking the slightest bit. Tom had the urge to take him right then and there.

"No, I'm usually much more amiable. Would you rather we exchanged curses first?" Harry most likely meant to sound irritated, but Tom could only think of the small act of defiance as cute.

"Perhaps later. For now, all I want is to talk." Green eyes widened adorably before narrowing.

"Why?" Suspicious, just as he should be. The chase wouldn't be nearly as fun if Harry was as stupid as his peers.

"I want you to see that you have more in common with the Dark side than the Light. I want you to see that we don't have to fight." Tom kept his voice low and enticing as he spoke and held back a smirk as contemplation became clear in the marvelous matching emeralds.

"Liar. You want something else. You want to shove it in Dumbledore's face that his secret weapon isn't his anymore. You want… I'm not sure what else you want, but it's more than a simple talk." The soft words were spoken without fear or hatred, completely unbiased and calm. Swiftly, as Tom felt his lust grow, he shielded his eyes. No one could read him that well, and if he or she could then he or she didn't dare say so.

"You're correct, but this isn't the place to discuss such things. Wouldn't you agree?" Tom allowed his magic to slip out, knowing that Harry could feel it and that the proper response would be given. Just as he expected, Harry stopped holding his magic back a little, letting it wash over Tom. Discreetly, Tom took a deep breath, enjoying the taste of Harry's magic like he would oxygen after a long underwater swim.

"I might. It depends on where you would consider a good place to talk to be." Sly, cunning words chosen as carefully as one would a wand fell easily from the younger male's lips and Tom found himself giving a small, satisfied smile without his consent. Harry was everything that he had hoped for and more. Using motions deprived of hesitation, Tom stuck out his hand palm up. Harry had a choice to make. Apprehensively, Harry placed his hand in the Dark Lord's. Just before Tom's magic could wrap itself fully around Harry, Dumbledore rounded the corner. Tom gave the old fool a triumphant grin before disappearing. They landed gracefully in his throne room a mere moment later. Instantaneously, Harry jerked his soft hand back and took a step away. Tom could still feel his flesh tingling from where they had been touching.

"What do you want with me?" Harry clearly didn't feel like going through formalities at the moment. Tom just looked down at Harry, halfway wanting to sit in his throne and assert his position and halfway wanting to stay as close to Harry as possible. In the end, he went for his throne. They would have plenty of time to get close later.

"The Dark side doesn't want to kill all muggles, just separate them from wizards. And Light magic doesn't need to be extinct, but Dark magic should be more recognized. Those are the two points that you're wanting to touch on the most, correct?" Intense emeralds stared at Tom for a full minute before the young man finally responded.

"Is there another chair? We've got quite a bit to talk over." Harry slowly gave in. Tom smirked while waving a hand leisurely. House Elves immediately appeared, chair in hand, before sitting it down and leaving with a 'pop.' Crimson orbs Trailed down Harry's lithe body as he sat. First, Harry would come over to the Dark side. Next, Harry would become Tom's. Finally, Harry would learn his place and all would be well. But for now, they would talk.

(***Ronald Weasley***)

Ron opened his eyes wearily, confused on his whereabouts for a moment. The white room with white ceilings and white sheets brought him up to speed easily. Harry had… completely destroyed him in the duel. He hadn't stood a chance. After all of his bragging, all of Harry downplaying his abilities, he lost. By all means, that shouldn't have happened. Ron had been planning on taking on Voldemort and winning right after beating Harry. If he couldn't defeat the stupid Boy-Who-Lived then how was he supposed to beat the Dark Lord? Light blue eyes clenched shut. It wasn't fair. He had been so sure about winning.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, my boy." Said blue eyes snapped open at Dumbledore's soft, comforting voice.

"What do you…?" Ron trailed off at the kind look that could be easily seen through the Headmaster's half-moon spectacles.

"I don't mean to push this on you so soon after your injuries have healed, but Harry needs your help." Suddenly, anger flared through Ron's veins. Why did everything always have to be about Harry? "Now, now, don't get angry. Nothing that's been happening is his fault. I'm afraid Voldemort is getting to him." At that, the color drained from Ron's face. That explained why Harry was so powerful, why he did so well, and why everything was going so wrongly.

"So… Harry doesn't mean to act the way he's been acting? He's still my best friend, somewhere inside?" Hope rose in his throat like lava from a volcano. Dumbledore smiled charmingly.

"Of course he is. He just needs some help getting back to where he belongs: with the Light side. Ronald, I understand if it's too much to ask, but can I count on you to help save Harry and defeat Voldemort?" With a mouth as dry as a desert, Ron answered.

"Yeah! I mean, I can totally help! Just, just tell me what to do!" The smile that spread across Dumbledore's face at Ron's words told the red head that those were the exact words he was looking for.

(***Albus Dumbledore***)

Albus smiled as he got Ron's cooperation. He could defeat Tom on his own, but he needed Harry's magic to do so. And he would have it, whether Harry liked it or not. All of his plans, all the years of hard work, they wouldn't crash down around his ears because some silly child was tired of playing the hero. No, Harry was going to be good and keep his pure magic. He was going to keep Albus alive.

"Now get back to sleep, my boy. You need your rest." The headmaster said with easy concern. Blue eyes brightened at the nickname before the red head nodded.

"Okay and… um, thanks." Ron said shyly, causing Albus's smile to widen. He loved children. It wasn't his fault that Harry was a child. What had to be done, had to be done. It was for the Greater Good. Besides, was it better to lose one young man or every muggle on the planet? It was an easy choice.

"You're welcome, my boy. Good night." With that said, Ron was back to sleep before his head hit the pillow.