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Wow, I have been a writing fool. Here's another chapter!

My Heart Burns

Chapter VI: My Confession

SsSsS

An honest answer is like a kiss on the lips.

SsSsS

Christmas couldn't have come sooner.

After the boggart episode, Harry had stormed out of class, an enraged wreck of loathing for everyone and everything. Nott had chased him down soon after, as Lupin had dismissed the class immediately. Figures.

Making a student face his worst fear in front of the entire class didn't work out too well for you, did it Lupin?

When Nott decided to pry, Harry very nearly exploded, but had enough control to keep his tongue civil. It wouldn't do to let anything damaging out. Especially not to a Slytherin.

Thankfully Harry would only have to wait two days until he could leave the castle and relax in a potentially dangerous situation in the Malfoy house. Honestly, Harry couldn't wait.

sSsSs

Remus sat, contemplating what he could say over a cup of steaming tea. He had run to Headmaster Dumbledore as soon as he realized he had ruined any chance he might have had with getting to know Lily and James' son. Harry had faced his boggart, had done nothing but stare at his boggart, which had so horribly revealed the boy's worst fear, and Remus was the one who'd forced Harry to relive something terrible. In front of the entire class.

"Lupin, you shouldn't blame yourself."

He did blame himself. Why shouldn't he? It was his fault. He had hurt Harry today. He had caused that anger he had seen, right before Harry left. Anger that was directed at him.

Remus was beginning to think he deserved more than anger.

Remus looked up to meet Dumbledore's gaze.

"What happened to him, Albus? What was his boggart?"

The old wizard sighed and looked away. Maybe a bit of candy would help?

"You said Harry's boggart was himself? Young and injured?"

At Lupin's weak nod, Dumbledore continued.

"Perhaps that is just Harry's fear; to be young and hurt is a weakness? Maybe he has a fear of feeling weak? Of pain? Perhaps he's never faced that fear before now, and it made him angry to have the other students see this."

That did make sense. He could have just had a fear of getting hurt, physically, and nothing bad had ever happened to him. Maybe Poppy was wrong about him being abused…

No, it fit too perfectly. An abused child would of course be afraid of being abused again. That's what Harry's fear was. He had been beaten by Petunia's family- Oh, Merlin- and his greatest fear was built from that.

Remus didn't know any of the truth, but he was willing to find out, to talk to Harry. Even if it meant that image of poor Harry's boggart had been exactly what had happened to him in the past.

It was an image that would stay with Remus Lupin till the day he died.

sSsSs

Finally the wait was over. It was Christmas evening, and Harry was stepping through a large, ornate fireplace in the foyer of the Malfoy Manor with Professor Snape.

He immediately felt better. The rich interior of the manor was nice, sophisticated. He was dressed the same, in expensive black dress robes sent to him by the Malfoys as a Christmas present. Draco had been much too proud of the gift when Harry had opened it on the last day of class.

Snape kept eyeing Harry as they made their way toward what Harry guessed was a ballroom or dining hall. The teacher hadn't said much to Harry, only reminding him to stay on his best behavior, which Harry only half heard. Who did Snape think he was? Harry was a Slytherin, not some gung-ho Gryffindor. This party would be a piece of cake, a nice change of scenery.

The two entered a set of open doors to the right, and walked into a large parlor, already full of guests. Before Harry had time to really look around and see anyone he recognized, Draco had pounced on him.

"Potter! You came!"

Harry cocked an eyebrow at the blond. So, Malfoy was worried he wouldn't be here? Interesting…

"Oh, and hello sir."

Snape's response to Draco's excitement was a muted "hn" right before the grumpy man walked away, straight to the bar. Draco started chattering at Harry, like usual, but this time was cut off, by a taller version of himself. Lucius Malfoy walked up behind Draco, eyeing Harry with approval.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter. Please, make yourself at home."

Draco immediately shut his mouth, and stood up straighter when he heard his father. Harry had to suppress a smirk. Lucius' timing was much appreciated.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I am very happy to finally meet you, and I must say your home is absolutely marvelous. Thank you for this lovely evening."

Harry shook the Malfoy senior's hand as soon as it was offered. Tonight was a night to play, a time to be as nice as any Slytherin could be.

This is going to be fun.

sSsSs

Dinner was a relaxing affair. After meeting a few more people, Harry was set down between Draco and Theodore to a grand meal unlike any he'd had before. The Malfoys ate much better food than what the elves at Hogwarts made.

Small talk was made all down the long table, but Harry found he'd much rather just sit and enjoy the food, while watching and listening. Talk ranged from events at the Ministry to shops in Diagon Alley to the weather. If it really was a trap, they were all performing very well.

There was one person in particular Harry kept his eyes on. A young man, perhaps thirty years old, sat at one end of the table, to the right of Lucius' head seat. He was handsome, very put-together, and had been joining in as much conversation as he could. He spoke lightly and seemed to always wear a slight smile. He would have been completely inconspicuous, had he not also been watching Harry the entire time. It wasn't obvious, but Harry would catch the stranger's gaze every time his eyes went toward that direction. Every time, Harry would catch the stranger's sideways glance, and they would make eye contact. Every time, Harry would find himself relaxing just a bit more.

Harry wanted dinner to end already. He wanted to meet this man, to see who he was, to see who he claimed to be. Harry had a good idea, though. Surprisingly, the thought of being in the same house, of having dinner with Lord Voldemort did not frighten Harry. It was actually quite invigorating to think about…

Eventually the meal did end, and they were all moved into another sitting room, much like the first. The décor was different, and the was about it. Ah, rich people.

Harry stood with Draco, listening to him going on about his lavish presents. Harry wasn't really listening, of course, he hardly ever did when it was the youngest Malfoy jabbering. Harry was watching the stranger from dinner as the man was talking to a large group of people, all crowded around him like he was the messiah. Considering who the man may be, he might as well be the messiah to these people. Harry watched, curious, as Lucius approached the man, talking quietly to him, before they both made their way straight toward Harry and Draco.

Draco shut up the moment he saw his father move close.

"Mr. Potter, may I introduce you to an old friend of mine? Mr. Albert Jonas."

Harry smiled at "Mr. Jonas" and the strange man smiled back. There was no offer of a handshake.

"Harry Potter. I've heard so much about you."

Harry didn't feel like playing this game for much longer.

"I'm sure you have, Mr. Jonas. I wish I could say the same, but unfortunately, I have never heard of an Albert Jonas before."

The stranger lost a bit of his smile, but decided to keep most of it. Lucius, on the other hand, seemed to be surprised, if his raised eyebrows were any indication. Then, Harry finally heard what he was waiting for.

"Well, then Mr. Potter, perhaps we should speak in private, so I may tell you all about myself?"

Harry's smile became a little more genuine.

sSsSs

The room was silent. Still. Harry waited, wondering if the man across from him would make any move, any sound. Harry waited, wondering if this would be the last conversation he would ever have, if he would die here tonight.

The silence was too much, so Harry went first.

"I know who you are."

That got a chuckle from this Mr. Jonas.

"Do you now? Are you afraid, Harry?"

Harry didn't understand why, but he was not afraid. In fact, he'd never felt as calm as he did right now, alone in Malfoy Manor with Lord Voldemort.

"Should I be?"

Another chuckle.

"Many would think so, Harry. But no, you should not be. Do you know why?"

Harry shook his head. He didn't understand. He didn't know why he wasn't dead already. This was the man who had targeted him as an infant. What could have changed his mind?

"Do you want to know what happened with Quirrell, Harry? Why he did those terrible things to you?"

He did want to know. Harry looked on, waiting.

"I'm afraid that was my fault. You see, Harry, I wanted to meet you. I wanted to know who you were, who you could become. Quirrell… misinterpreted my orders. He assumed I wanted you dead, but in fact, I want you with me."

For some reason, that voice inside thought all of this was very funny. Especially Harry's sudden shock at what the Dark Lord just said.

"You want me to join you? Me?"

"Yes, Harry. You're still so very young, but you're special. You could have everything you've ever wanted, Harry, if only you would join me."

You're not special. He's lying.

"Join you? As a blind slave?"

"Blind? Oh no, Harry. None of my followers are blind. They're simply devoted to the cause. Their goals are my goals. They know that, with me, they will win. One day, they will be free."

You're weak. You'll never be free.

"Tell me, Harry, what are your goals? What do you want?"

Harry felt so young, so helpless now. What was the answer? He could not find it. He didn't know what he wanted. He didn't know who he was. He didn't even know what he was.

"I don't… You said none of your followers are blind? What if they wanted to be? What if I wanted… I…"

Harry jumped from his seat. It would be better to move, to pace the room. Maybe that would help. Voldemort's eyes on him sure didn't make this any easier.

How about, for once in your life, just tell the truth. If you can speak the truth…

The truth? Is it really that easy? Just let this man, this Dark Lord who killed his parents, just let him in? Just tell him how you feel, and hope for the best?

Hope. Harry no longer had hope. Not for anyone. Not for anything. Not for himself. What would it hurt if Lord Voldemort knew everything there was to know about Harry Potter?

Screw it.

"I want to let go. I don't want to feel anymore. I want to be numb inside. I want to be free. Faceless. Nothing."

His confession ended in a long silence. Harry was breathing deeply, trying to decided what this meant, how Voldemort might react. Would he still want him? Would an empty, emotionless tool still be useful to a Dark Lord? Logically, he knew the answer was yes. The feeling inside, however, told him otherwise.

You're weak. You're pathetic. You're nothing to him. You'll never be free. You'll never get rid of me…

Harry was able to calm down when Voldemort finally answered.

"Do you have any enemies, Harry?"

"Quirrell."

"Ah, yes. Well, pick another. He is still of some use to me."

Another enemy? Who could Harry choose? Why was he choosing in the first place? Who has wronged him so much that he would just like to…

"Remus Lupin."

Voldemort chuckled. This was going better than he ever could have imagined. This boy was absolutely perfect.

"Remus Lupin? Good. He has hurt you? He has made you angry?"

Harry nodded his head. He felt like he would start shaking again at any time. Just a little longer…

"I understand how you feel, Harry. But anger can be a very useful emotion. It can make you stronger, it can give you power. I want to help you, but first you must help yourself or you won't be of any use to me. You want me to need you, don't you?"

Shaking. Yes, because if he doesn't need Harry, then Harry is dead.

"Yes. You're trapped within yourself, Harry. You're holding yourself back with this fear and this doubt. You, of all people, should never doubt yourself. I want you to break away from these nasty insecurities, they will only weaken you. Your angry, your rage, that is where your power hides. Use it. Free it. Take control and punish your enemies. Follow me, Harry, and together we will show the world the true meaning of fear."

The answer. That was it. It had just been given to him. Harry accepted it, even though it was served upon on a silver platter. Wasn't he supposed to be wary of silver platters? Wasn't a silver platter just a beautiful lie? Harry no longer cared. He'd found the answers, all of his answers, and he was going to hold onto them until he bled.

You are not alone.

You've never been alone.

Ha ha ok. Just to clear up any confusion: this is not going to have any pairings at all. This isn't a LV/HP. Harry will have a very odd relationship with Voldy, and you're all free to interpret it any way you please, but I won't be making them a couple, even though it may look that way later on.

Oh, and thanks again for reading/reviewing/listing!