"Are you sure?"

"I'm more than sure, Harry," Tom said. "I've checked all the information I could possibly access, and every Ministry of Magic I've watched has not the faintest idea that there are four baby Dragons and a mother living in this Albanian forest. They think the mother died years ago, before she became impregnated and flew from Romania."

Harry and Tom were sitting in their living room once more. The late sunlight of early June was streaming in through their windows while they conversed, and Harry sat upon one of the comfortable armchairs, hidden in the shade, while Tom paced the room.

"How could no one know about these Dragons, though?" Harry asked, still confused by all of the Ministries' mistakes with regulating these creatures. "They burnt down hundreds of trees in that forest before heading for the mountains, where surely someone should have seen them."

"The forest is far too big for a few burnt trees to be noticed, and there are tens of more likely magical creatures who could have caused the damage," Tom said. "Dragons are also exceptionally good at hiding amongst the mountains, that being their main natural habitat."

"Even with the glittering gold horns on their fifty-foot-up heads?" Harry asked.

"Yes, even with the glittering gold horns on their fifty- and ten-foot-up heads," Tom confirmed, smiling slightly. "It's common for Witches and Wizards to spot a Dragon or two on the mountaintops. People are uneducated on what breed of Dragon goes where, even if they are fazed by the sight."

"But it seems so careless of the Ministries to just let them roam so freely," Harry said, unsure why it caused him so much surprise. "I'm not saying they should know about every Dragon on the face of the planet, but you'd think they'd care more. From what you said, there are plenty more creatures out there that we could take…"

Harry thought, as he trailed off into silence, that perhaps it didn't matter that much, in this decade, if a Dragon or two slipped under the radar and went unnoticed for a few years. Perhaps it would only be a problem for the Wizarding world when people began using these creatures as weapons – deadly weapons. Perhaps Tom was creating a new popular view and fear against Dragons and so on, which would lead the world to mistrust and mistreat them even up until Harry's early life. Tom would make them far more evil, angrier, and less free than they were now…

"This, to put it simply, is the loophole I told you about so many months ago," Tom said, referring to Harry's earlier words, "And though we will have to be cautious with which creatures we take, especially so early on, I doubt we'll be unsuccessful in our endeavour to train and control them well."

"If it's true that no Ministry has tracked down on these Dragons," Harry added.

"I know that they haven't," Tom assured him. "As long as we take the Dragons as soon as we can, all will be well."

Harry didn't reply to this immediately. He wanted to tell Tom that that he didn't like the idea of them taking these Dragons, that he was unconfident and fearful of their plan, but quite a few things were holding him back from voicing these thoughts. Tom had explained to Harry all the wonderful things about these creatures, the mysteries yet to be revealed concerning them, the properties unexplored and painfully ignored, and the uses to which the Dragons could be put to under their care. Harry didn't want to give into Tom's persuasions for why taking these Dragons was a good idea, but he had to say that Tom made a fair argument in saying nothing better would be made of these creatures…

Tom seemed to sense Harry's thoughts as he watched his lover intently, but Harry ignored that for the moment. It would be extraordinary to see these creatures up close, to examine them for as long as he wanted to, knowing they were theirs. Harry had grown to love easy research like this, thanks to Tom, but he couldn't say it was something he resented. Harry and Tom's life had become somewhat boring lately, as they stayed in this flat, venturing into the forests less often, and reading, or else doing seemingly nothing, more. It could be a relief to have something else to do, no matter how dangerous it was…

Harry sighed, knowing that there was nothing he could change when both he and Tom wanted this. Not wanting to argue over this subject, Harry asked in defeat, "So how do you suppose we do it, then?"

He watched as Tom smiled, and he tried not to do the same. "We'll need to plan a place to keep the Dragons, to begin," Tom said. "Then, after also devising how we will capture the Dragons, we will need a team of people to help us control and move the creatures to their final destination."

"The team of people being our old school friends, I'm guessing?"

"That guess would be correct," Tom revealed. "They'll be happy that they're of some use finally, at the very least."

"Not to mention how they'll love working with something as dangerous as a family of Dragons," Harry remarked. "It will make them feel more important, even if they can't talk about it to anyone but each other."

"That's still enough," Tom assured him. "Their values of reputation amongst themselves keeps them eager to do more for me, and I encourage that."

"I've noticed," said Harry, thinking back to how the Death Eaters would attempt to impress Tom with every piece of information, and every recount of things they did in pure devotion to the Dark Arts, and by extent Tom himself. "Were you planning on them being like that, at the beginning? Or did it just end up that way?"

"A mix of the two," Tom answered. "I think I encouraged the idea when I noticed its existence, which was still in my early years at Hogwarts… Gaining my respect is of absolute importance to them all, now, instead of the initial personal gain in knowledge and power from the Dark Arts."

"Which doesn't surprise me," Harry said. He reflected for a moment on the Death Eaters' faithfulness, which was almost creepy in its strength… This brought up a question Harry hadn't thought to ask before. "What are the older students that you taught like? Are they as keen as the others that I know?"

"They were not quite as loyal as our current friends… yet if they weren't keen upon serving me before, I'm sure they will be now," Tom speculated, perhaps speaking to himself equally as much as to Harry. "Most of my current friends keep the older ones in contact, writing to them as well as meeting up with them, so I'm guessing those who were missed in the last few years have heard about the potential reunion from the eager Avery, Dolohov, Lestrange, et cetera."

"Who are you going to ask to help us with the Dragons, then? Just your newer friends?"

"I think that we should ask our newer friends mainly," Tom said, smiling lightly at his correction for Harry's use of 'you' and 'your'.

"They're not my friends," Harry reminded Tom, returning the smirk. "But how many of them will there be?"

"We'll invite only three of them, to begin."

"Three?" Harry repeated, surprised.

"To merely watch the Dragons," Tom clarified. "They will have to be here within a fortnight, to watch the Dragons almost constantly. And to spare you quick introductions, whilst sticking to the friends I know best, I'll ask only people such as Avery to visit us."

"What are we going to do about living together? They obviously can't know we live in the same flat, or they'll easily guess that we're together."

"I've already thought of this – we'll just have to live in two apartments for a while," Tom explained. "It doesn't matter how close they are."

Harry wasn't sure whether he really liked this idea, but he smiled faintly. "Kicking me out, then? Isn't that a step backwards in our relationship?"

Tom didn't find this as funny as Harry, which made Harry smile more. "It's only temporary, until–"

"Until what? They go back to England and leave us alone for another two years, asking no questions about the Dragons we can't look after on our own?"

Harry could see that Tom sensed the slight annoyance past his light tone. With his next words, Tom tried to cure that. "No," he said, "It will merely be until there are less of them around, so we can wander off to the same apartment every night or so, unnoticed."

Harry broke eye contact with Tom, letting his head fall back against the headrest of his chair as he gazed towards the ceiling. "I'm sick of having to hide us from everyone…"

"I know," Tom said, watching Harry from the armchair that he now sat on. "But this is the only way we can continue to live our lives peacefully."

"What, by limiting our peace together, and withholding something that shouldn't be a secret?"

"Yes," Tom answered with full seriousness. "If the alternative is losing all the power we have and being shunned by the rest of the world, then yes, this is the only peace we have left."

Harry laughed humourlessly, both in response to what Tom had said, and in reaction to an evil thought that crossed his embittered mind. He wondered what it would be like if he ruined Tom's chance of being the greatest Dark Wizard of all time by proving to the Death Eaters that he and Tom had been gay lovers since Hogwarts. If he didn't feel far too much love towards Tom to cause him this much embarrassment and pain, this would be a possible plan for him. But it would be heartless, Harry reflected, his smiling fading, and Tom would find a way to say Harry was delusional…

"When do we move the Dragons?" Harry asked, not wanting to discuss the changes in their lives with the arrival of the Death Eaters.

"In around two months," Tom answered, his hesitating tone suggesting he was dwelling upon Harry's reaction to this all. "Once we decide where to put them."

"And how many people will help us with this?"

"Since the young Dragons are easier to manage, we won't need the usual amount – six wizards – to control them. We'll need about three wizards each, plus the normal amount for the mother. So there will be eighteen people… plus another five to stand around, to be safe. Ending in twenty three of my friends helping us."

"Until half a year's time, when we'll need thirty people just to look after the Dragons – and constantly… It's going to be insanely difficult, never mind dangerous. And then–"

Harry stopped talking. Tom had gotten up to walk towards him, sitting on the arm of his chair, and gently holding Harry's face with his hand when Harry looked away from the ceiling. When their eyes met, Tom spoke.

"Difficulty will only help us to appreciate our luxuries, even before we are rewarded for our work," he spoke softly. "As for the danger involved, well, I think that makes it all the more exciting."

Harry dropped his gaze from Tom, moving his head to rest against Tom's chest after a moment. He sighed, accepting that this change was inevitable. He listened to the sound of Tom's breathing, which calmed him somehow. "You're probably right," Harry said. "Even if I dislike your friends, it could be quite good raising Dragons."

"It could be great," Tom amplified. "There are many fantastic things about Dragons, as I've told you before. With everything I want to add to them, it would be magnificent."

"I know," Harry smiled. But his smile faded before he spoke again. "I'm sure this is going to change the world forever…"

–X–

In a small town to the far north of Albania, an echoing 'crack' disturbed the silence amongst a cluster of tall, dark houses. With nothing more than a glance, Harry saw that this town was equally as eerie as many of the others he had seen with Tom in this county. Harry wondered whether it was deliberate when Tom chose these places, usually full of the most sinister Dark Witches and Wizards Albania had to offer, packed together to populate whole towns at a time, to help them share wicked tales or make illegal trades as a daily part of life…

The promised two weeks of time before the arrival of the first Death Eaters had been well spent with Harry and Tom finding a new apartment and moving items to and from it to give the illusion that only one person lived there. They had worked together harmoniously in their preparation for the Death Eaters, helping to find inns that would hold the amount of people they were expecting and deciding upon how best to train the Death Eaters on Dragon keeping in general.

Most importantly, they had changed Harry's appearance back to how it used to be at Hogwarts. Harry had been a little unconfident that they would be able to make him look exactly how he had in their last school years, but Tom had assured him – in a voice as soft as always – that he could remember exactly how Harry had looked. Tom did a very good job with changing Harry's face, and by the time Harry saw himself again, he was confident that the Death Eaters wouldn't notice he had ever looked different.

Harry slowly found himself caring very little about whether the Death Eaters stayed for long or not. He realised that it wouldn't be very hard for him and Tom to spend time alone unnoticed now that they were out of Hogwarts, free to do what they wished. But there was one part of him that dreaded to conclude that meeting up with the Death Eaters again could – to his great unease – mean the formation of the first of Voldemort's following…

It was a warm early autumn evening when Harry and Tom Disapparated from Harry's flat. They had arranged to meet Avery, Nott, Lestrange and Dolohov in an inn that was located in the eerie village where they now stood. Very few of the buildings around them showed any sign of habitation within. There were barely any lit houses in sight, despite the sun setting already. Harry knew that it would probably remain this way even as the night fell properly.

"The inn is this way," Tom said, walking onwards after they landed as if he didn't notice how creepy the town was.

Harry made no response to this. Further down the road, a tall building poured out the most light visible in the town, so Harry guessed this must be the inn they were looking for. They headed for it quietly.

"I wonder if they've changed at all," Harry mused as they strolled closer to the Death Eaters with every step. "I can't believe it's been over two years since we last saw them…"

"From what I've gathered by reading their letters, they're much the same as before," Tom said. "Intelligence wise, at least. Nothing has really happened for them in these last two years."

"They've all been waiting for you to put them to use again, probably. None of their jobs seem to be permanent."

"They'll get more useful jobs soon," Tom said. "Jobs that will make them more convenient…"

"But that's their decision," Harry stated, purposely saying this because he knew it had lost all it's value in this situation.

Tom smiled at his entertaining joke. "Not any more."

"It's sort of strange how they've devoted themselves to you so fully," Harry remarked. "They no longer have the option of controlling their own lives."

"And yet they enjoy the lives I've given them," Tom insisted. "They could attempt walking away from it all, if they dared."

"Which they wouldn't, because they're scared of you."

Tom smiled. "I've trapped them in an endless circle, it seems… but here we are."

They had arrived at the inn. Very little talking could be heard from the inside the tall building, but Harry had no doubt that this was the right place. Tom indicated for them to go inside, and Harry followed him in without hesitation.

The place was cramped, and clouded with the smoke of what might have been cigarettes. Hags and uncanny witches and wizards with shielded appearances sat at the bar, which was run by a stooped, ugly old man with a lack of hair and teeth. The customers at the bar drank quietly, and made little conversation, very unlike a table at the far corner of the room, which was occupied by four young and untroubled wizards. If the recognisable voices didn't tell Harry and Tom who these people were, then a second glance through the thick smoke certainly did.

Tom headed for the crowded table, and Harry followed him, smiling slightly when the Death Eaters spotted them.

"Finally, you're here!" Avery exclaimed, grinning.

"I hope you weren't anticipating our arrival for too long," Tom responded, taking a seat at the table as he watched his Death Eaters contently. He sat between Lestrange and Dolohov, while Harry took the seat between Nott and Avery, on the opposite side of the table. "I would have joined you earlier, if time had permitted it."

"Nah, it was no problem," Avery said lightheartedly. "Dolohov only got here an hour ago, anyway. I didn't know you'd bring Jonathan here too, though!"

Avery beamed at Harry, and Harry returned the smile the best he could, glad when someone spoke before he could make a verbal response.

"I can't believe you've brought us all the way here to work with Dragons!" Dolohov said thickly, careful enough to keep his voice low. "That's way more exciting than anything I expected for a reunion."

"And what did you expect for a reunion?" Tom questioned lightly.

"I had no clue what you were planning," Dolohov said. "But I'm glad I was chosen to be a part of this."

"Probably only on default, to be fair, Dolohov," Avery grinned. He then directed his words to Harry and Tom as Dolohov scowled. "Here, let's get you some drinks!"

They ordered, Harry and Tom both asking for light drinks as the Death Eaters refreshed their own. The bartender appeared hostile with serving even this many people at one table, regardless of how much money they might end up spending, but the Death Eaters didn't seem to even notice.

"So, have you been doing for this for the last two years?" Nott asked the moment he could. "Searching for Dragons?"

"No, only since the last seven months," Tom said. "Before that I was in England, working in Knockturn Alley… I ran into a bit of trouble there, and decided to slip away from the country in November."

"Why?" Avery asked, joining the other Death Eaters in interested stares. "What happened?"

"Well, I'm not sure I should tell you that…" Tom said quietly, hiding most of the enjoyment that Harry knew he took from this. He took a sip front his drink, allowing a moment for thought. "Let us just say I won't be dealing in antiques again any time soon."

"Why not?" Dolohov pressed.

Tom didn't answer this, as his attention was drawn to Lestrange, who gasped and stared in astonishment. Lestrange hesitated for a moment, evidently unsure if his thoughts were viable. "Were you working at Borgin and Burkes?"

"Why do you ask?" Tom inquired, the hint of a smile on his lips.

"There was a story, in the papers last November," Lestrange began, his normally drawling voice suddenly more alert due to awe, "About two antique dealers who own a shop in Knockturn Alley… One of them, Borgin, was accused of murdering the other, Burke, when he was found dead in their shop one morning. But the Ministry decided that Burke had committed suicide, in fear of being blamed for the recent death of one of their clients…"

"You work with the Daily Prophet now, do you not?" Tom asked, appearing to have missed all of Lestrange's words.

"Yes," Lestrange answered, visibly confused by Tom's lack of comment on his theory. He was careful not to ignore Tom's question. "I started working there in November."

"The Crime Department, I heard?"

"Yes," Lestrange confirmed. "How did you know?"

"Jonathan used to have that job," Tom mentioned lightly. "He quit in early November, in fact."

Lestrange was surprised, as he turned to Harry. "The last person who worked there requested that I personally had the job… Was that you?"

Harry's eyes flickered towards Tom for a moment. He hadn't been informed on this piece of information, but he had no doubt that Tom had done this for Lestrange. Harry wondered for a moment if Tom was testing his ability to improvise… Or perhaps Tom had just used this as an excuse to not answer for the deaths at Borgin and Burkes.

"Yeah," Harry lied. "I remembered what you said about your father hating newspapers, and you wanting to spite him in spreading news… I wasn't sure whether you would accept the job, but I thought I may as well try."

"But I always heard you referred to as 'Richard'," Lestrange said slowly.

"That was a fake name," Harry admitted. "I knew the Ministry wouldn't hire me as who I really am… and I didn't want to let them know where I really was, anyway."

"Why not?" Lestrange asked, likely noticing that Harry and Tom's lives had gotten darker over the last two years. The other Death Eaters seemed to have noticed this too as they watched the conversation keenly.

"To be perfectly honest, I was searching for someone," Harry said, making up a story halfway between truth and lies. "Someone who I could only hear about firsthand when I worked in the Crime Department."

Lestrange appeared stuck between fear and admiration. "Did you find who you were looking for?"

"Yes," Harry replied, giving a weak smile.

"Did you… well… Why were you searching for them?"

Harry paused before answering this, unsure how much he could or should actually tell Lestrange. He took a sip of his drink, which in truth wasn't very good. He decided that since it was all lies anyway, and it wouldn't affect his life if he let Lestrange know what was supposed to be some of the truth… It would impress the Death Eaters, at the very least.

"I was looking for them for revenge," Harry answered bluntly, trying to make his lie as believable as possible with a hint of annoyance in his tone, to both the Death Eaters and Tom. He had supposedly sought revenge on Grindelwald for murdering his parents and friends, after all. "He murdered a few people I knew…"

"Oh," Lestrange responded shortly. He seemed to understand that Harry was referring to his parents. He shifted the subject a little, it seemed. "The head of the office, Moody, seemed to guess you'd run off for something like that."

"Did he?"

"Yes… I won't tell him who you really are though, obviously."

"Thanks," Harry said shortly. He took another sip of his drink.

"It's the least I can do, for you giving me that job," Lestrange smiled.

"So, is Jonathan going to join us in looking after them Dragons, then?" Avery asked as informally as always, moving the conversation along in either boredom or awkwardness – or a mix of the two.

"Not exactly," Tom answered, "He is going to be working with me, as he has for the last few months."

The Death Eaters were slightly taken aback with this piece of information. "So, has he been here with you all this time?" Avery asked.

"For a while, yes."

"Why?"

"I needed some assistance with tracking down magical creatures."

"Well, we could have helped!"

Tom smiled softly. "I had more than enough help with just Jonathan."

Harry could almost see the Death Eaters' self-importance lesson as he watched the expressions on all of their faces. He knew that they didn't like the idea of him being given an even more important job, and as Harry read some of their minds, he saw that they felt it was especially unfair since he hadn't been a part of their group for as long as they had. They didn't dare voice any of this, however.

"Plus, who better to help me than a fellow true criminal?" Tom commented softly, watching Harry from across the table with a faint smile. Harry had to stop himself from reminding Tom he hadn't actually done anything against the law as he smiled back.

"We're criminals!" Avery declared after a long moment of struggling with indignation. "We do loads of stuff, like–…"

"Do go on," Tom insisted, turning his attention to the young Death Eater.

Avery opened his mouth a few times, trying to find words as his eyes kept flickering between Harry and Tom.

"Er," Avery began, "are we allowed to talk about… you know… the witches we get along with?"

Any enjoyment that might have been shown on Tom's face had fallen away from this point, especially as he read Avery's mind. Avery worried about shielding Harry from this information, as Tom had ordered him to do back at Hogwarts, but Tom didn't seem to care about just that. His voice was empty when he spoke, as was his expression.

"It's of a personal preference that you spare me the unnecessary discomfort of hearing about the whores and victims you 'get along with', Avery, so no, I will not allow it."

"Alright," Avery agreed shortly. Harry tried to avoid thinking about how Avery might be spending his evenings now that he had even fewer eyes watching over him since Hogwarts. Avery seemed to want to mention that what he did wasn't as bad as murder, but he held his tongue… for a while, at least. He began struggling with another inquiry, as his mouth opened and closed a few more times.

"What is it?" Tom demanded.

"Oh, nothing, I just… well…" Avery stammered uncomfortably, "Have you, you know… found a girlfriend yet?"

Tom stared at Avery for a moment, too used to this to be surprised, Harry guessed. "I don't believe that is of any concern to you."

The other Death Eaters seemed embarrassed by Avery's question, even if Tom was completely indifferent. To their mortification, Avery didn't drop the subject. "I only ask because, you know, you haven't spoken about seeing anyone since the seventh year, and–"

"Sixth year," Nott commented quietly, staring down at the table as if he didn't feel he should be speaking at all. "Not since Jonathan joined the school, at least."

There was a prominent pause here, where Harry stared at Nott. He wondered vaguely how Nott remembered this and he felt uneasy about it… until he decided that that didn't matter. What was more important was the fact that Lestrange was now gazing at Harry, his stare having moved away from Tom slowly only a moment before. His expression was blank, but Harry saw that he was turning the situation around in his mind, taking in all the funny coincidences.

To Harry's unnoticeable horror, Lestrange began questioning the possibility of Harry and Tom being together, as boyfriends.

Lestrange moved a hand from his drink to slyly cover his mouth. This was to hide his laughter, rather than to mask his alarm, and Harry was relieved when he realised that Lestrange thought this merely amusing and not at all possible. Harry looked away, less worried now, as he heard Avery addressing him.

"What about you, Jonathan?" Avery inquired. "Found anyone yet?"

"Er," Harry hesitated… he decided to lie, to be safe. "Yes."

Avery waited a few seconds before pressing the subject. "Well?"

"We started going out recently," Harry made up, "but I don't think it'll last very long. She barely speaks English, amongst a few other problems."

"Is she Albanian? The Witches here are so much more beautiful than in England…"

"Yeah," Harry lied again. "Which probably explains why I never ended up with any English girl for very long…"

Tom appeared very lightly annoyed with how this conversation had ended up, but Harry knew he was the only one who noticed. They all talked for a few hours after this, discussing how all of their lives were going, before moving on to planning how they were going to keep track of the Dragons waiting way up in the mountains. The conversation took a lighter air soon enough, but Harry and Tom were both glad when they left that night, having prepared the Death Eaters for the challenge ahead, and having excused themselves from the inn without too much problem.

When the meeting finally ended, and when Harry arrived back home with Tom that night, the only thing he knew for sure was that despite all their time away from the Death Eaters, in the end nothing had changed.

–X–

Almost three months past this time, after Avery, Nott, Lestrange, and Dolohov had succeeding in keeping track of the Dragons, and after Harry and Tom had worked out exactly where they wanted the Dragons to go, contacting all the Death Eaters they could to offer the chance of joining them in dedication to the Dark Arts, Harry found himself in another, meeting the rest of the Death Eaters.

Tomorrow, they would be capturing and moving the Dragons away from the mountains for good. Though it had been two months since all of the Death Eaters had arrived in Albania, Harry hadn't met most of them yet, and Avery, Dolohov, and Mulciber were making a point of introducing Harry to the people he was yet to speak to. They had all been training in how to control Dragons for the last two months, under Tom's strict and tiring lead, so they were celebrating now, preparing for tomorrow.

"Meet my brother!" Avery insisted, leading Harry away from a standing group of Death Eaters to find a wizard sitting at a table further on. Harry spotted Avery's brother in an instant – he was only slightly taller than Avery, and a little stockier, with the same permanently dark bags under his eyes to contrast against his light brown hair. He shared the same twisted smile that Avery had, but it was visibly less friendly, somehow. "This is Gawain Avery, my older brother!"

"Pleased to meet you," Harry said, shaking Gawain's hand. Gawain merely nodded, before Dolohov interrupted anything he might have said.

"This here is Egan Gibbon," Dolohov said, indicating a Wizard with a button nose and glasses to lighten his otherwise vicious appearance, "and that's Rancell Macnair," Dolohov indicated a wizard who Harry guessed would be Walden Macnair's father, "and that's Duane Gonson," a Wizard with crooked yellow teeth and lank black hair smiled at Harry, "Then Quentin Pyrites," Quentin nodded, his expression solemn past his shadowed face, and ever calculating eyes, "and Berkeley Ransome," Berkeley nodded towards Harry, appearing despondent despite the merry people around him. "Oh, and here we have…"

Harry was introduced to about fifteen new Death Eaters, most of who seemed eager to be here on some level, no matter how strangely they showed it. Harry noticed, as the night progressed, that he was being treated with some sort of cautious respect from the new Death Eaters he met, and even the old Death Eaters he had known for a year. He realised, after a few hours, that everybody here was treating those around them accordingly to how much respect they got from Tom, and Harry, Lestrange, Nott, and Rosier were the only Death Eaters being treated well, generally.

Harry supposed that the Death Eaters had all talked about what happened a few months ago, concerning Tom and Harry reintroducing themselves to Avery, Nott, Lestrange, and Dolohov. In their minds, they thought Harry was respected because he had stayed with Tom for longer than anyone since Hogwarts. They thought Harry and Tom bounded on the fact that they had apparently murdered people recently, and many of them dared to think that Tom was helping Harry hide from the Ministry, giving Harry the chance to spend time with Tom, learning more than any of the others, regardless of the fact that he was still the newest Death Eater.

Harry found out, through Dolohov dragging them into conversation with Quentin Pyrites, that Quentin had been working in Germany for the past eight years. Harry was quite surprised that he had remained a Death Eater for that long, but Quentin mentioned that his old friends had updated him constantly about how well the Dark Arts lessons with Tom were going. It seemed that he was a dedicated Death Eater, and understood how far this group was going to go with its studies in the Dark Arts.

"So," Quentin began carefully, mid way between a part of their conversation, in his high, wary voice, "What's all this about you seeking revenge on someone? Did you get your revenge on him, in the end?"

Tom, who sat on the right hand side of their table, was listening, Harry knew. "I found him," Harry said, "but I didn't get any proper revenge yet, to be honest."

"So he's still out there, whoever you're looking for?"

"Pretty much… I'm waiting for him to go out in the open again, but I don't know if it will happen."

Quentin squinted questioningly at Harry. "Why can't you just go and get him now?"

"He's being protected, at the moment," Harry explained, not seeing the harm in a bit of truth.

"With magic you can't break through?"

"With magic I couldn't unnoticeably break through."

"So… Does the law have something to do with this?"

"Er, I suppose," Harry admitted, "but he isn't a part of the law…"

"Then how are they involved?" Quentin inquired. "Is he under some sort of law protection?"

Harry was beginning to feel uncomfortable with all these questions, and he wasn't scared to voice this. "Why do you care so much?"

"I don't," Quentin denied quickly, holding up his hands in an innocent gesture as his eyes widened a little in false fear. Harry was slightly annoyed by this, but he ignored it. He disliked this Death Eater already. "I'm just asking…"

"Would you kill this person though, if you found him?" Dolohov asked, as if it was no concern.

Harry didn't answer this immediately. He had learnt from Tom that he should never answer a definite 'yes' when asked this sort of question, no matter if that was honest or not. Harry tried to think of a smart answer. He thought back to what Tom always said. "Let's just say I won't easily forgive what he did to me…"

Harry met Tom's eyes for a moment after this, for Tom was staring at him from across the table. The Heir of Slytherin didn't smile at Harry's words; instead he seemed to be contemplating them… He was soon bombarded with questions from the Death Eaters around him, so he didn't keep his eyes on Harry for very long.

The Death Eaters were asking Tom countless questions, wanting to hear Tom explain why he fled from England, what really happened with Hepzibah Smith, what they were going to do with the Dragons, and what they were going to do besides raising Dragons to the best of their abilities, and though Tom would always answer their questions, he rarely gave a full answer. Harry knew he was keeping all of the Death Eaters intrigued, playing to all of their hopes and interests while he conversed with them for hours on end…

It was around eleven O'clock when Tom declared that he had had enough of their company for now, and he stood up to leave. The Death Eaters pleaded for him to stay, but there was far too much drinking and laughing going on, which didn't interest Tom in the slightest. To Harry's surprise, instead of just following Tom home in half an hour's time like usual, Tom addressed Harry in front of the room at large, suggesting for them to speak before leaving this gathering.

Harry agreed to the suggestion, being unnoticed by many of the Death Eaters who were wrapped up in their own conversations. He and Tom headed for the exit of the inn, speaking to few people on the way out. Once out in the cool breeze of this clear September evening, they spoke to each other.

"Why did we leave so early?" Harry asked, enjoying the calming wind that swept through this beautiful night.

"Did you enjoy the company of our friends?" Tom inquired, suggesting that the Death Eaters' attitude was the reason they had left.

"No, I'm quite happy to have left them," Harry stated, "but I'm just curious about why we left, when there were still a few more things we could have spoken to them about."

They were walking alone the same short route they had taken to the inn. The street was dark, and they appeared to be the only ones on it. Harry wondered why Tom hadn't stopped to Apparate yet.

"In truth, there's something that I wanted to show you," Tom said quietly, a soft smirk on his lips.

Harry couldn't help but return Tom's smile. He wondered if perhaps the last few months of being in the Death Eaters' company had made Tom crave a more quiet evening, for once. "What is it?"

"It'll be a moment before we get there," Tom said. "I won't tell you what it is, for it would be less of a surprise then."

Harry couldn't think of what this could be. He felt happiness at knowing Tom still had enough energy to plan romantic detours with him.

"How much do you love me?" Tom suddenly asked.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed for a moment, as he was taken aback. He told Tom what he meant to him quite often, and showed him perhaps even more. "Too much," Harry smiled. "More than I've ever loved anyone. But you know this already."

"I know," Tom admitted, "I was merely checking."

Harry tried to return Tom's smile as they walked, but more confusion stopped him from doing this fully. They were walking along a rural, winding path, between large fields that stretched as far as the eye could see. "Where are we going?"

"To a town, just a little further on," Tom replied. "Do you not find it beautiful here?"

"It's very beautiful," Harry agreed. The stars were shining above them in the clear sky, and silhouettes of mountains and forests in the far distance contrasted against the slightly lighter sky… There were also faint lights far ahead of them, which Harry guessed they were slowly heading towards. This didn't ruin the scenery, however.

"I'm glad we have tonight to be alone together," Tom said quietly as they walked. "When we move again further to the north tomorrow, to live closer to the Dragons, there will be so many of the others around… but at least we have each other now."

"I'm glad of it too," Harry said honestly. He reached for Tom's hand in the darkness, knowing it was safe for them to entwine their fingers here. He wondered what on earth Tom could be showing him.

"You had an interesting talk with Dolohov earlier," Tom mentioned.

"Did I?" Harry asked, a laugh audible in his voice. "I spoke to so many people today…"

"Yes, it's understandable you wouldn't directly remember the conversation," Tom said. "But it involved Quentin Pyrites, I believe."

"Oh," Harry remembered the conversation now. That had been odd, on reflection… "Why do you bring the conversation up?"

"You mentioned still wanting to seek revenge on Grindelwald," Tom remarked. "Were you lying?"

"Not really. Why?"

"I understand wanting to get to him somehow," Tom said, as a fact rather than a sympathetic observation. "We could get to him, you know…"

"I don't know," Harry said slowly, knowing how drastically this would change History. Grindelwald, mass murderer and government traitor, broken out of an impossible-to-break-out-of prison, by two teenaged boys who would one day become Lord Voldemort and The Boy Who Lived… "I think I'd rather let him rot for the next however many years, suffering slowly in the prison he himself built."

"True, this is a somewhat desirable outcome," Tom mused, perhaps trying to support any opinion Harry had on Grindelwald. "It's certainly far easier to just leave him there forever, slowly dying…"

Harry let Tom trail off into silence. The village they were heading for was getting closer now.

"You mentioned a while back how dangerous training Dragons will be," Tom voiced.

"And you convinced me there are too many good things about Dragons for anything like danger to hold us back," Harry reminded him. He was very confused by the things Tom kept bringing up. Their linked hands slipped away as they approached the village. "You said the danger was the most exciting part."

"And it is," Tom said. "But I want to make sure nothing happens to you."

Harry smiled a little, the first houses of the town showering slices of light upon them. "I'll be fine past all of this. I can look after myself, even when you're not around, you know."

"I know," Tom smiled. The houses in this town were dimly lit and distanced. They were plunged into purer darkness as they walked further along the street. "But I want to be sure you're safe."

"How will you do that?" Harry inquired.

"Well, I can only really think of one way," Tom responded quietly. Harry didn't know what expression he had in this darkness.

"That being?"

Tom only smiled, the light from a nearby house illuminating his face for a moment. "We're almost there."

They walked for perhaps a minute more, until Tom finally found what he was looking for… apparently. "Here we are," he said, stopping in the middle of the street. Everything around them was impossible to see, as even the starlight was blocked by close trees and buildings with no windows lit from within. Harry suddenly noticed how plain all of the houses he could see were. There were no broomsticks around, nor cauldrons, creatures, and warm fires that would suggest a Wizarding population… They were in a Muggle town.

"What are we doing here?" Harry asked, all of his happiness suddenly being replaced by concern. He tried to keep his voice calmer, knowing that surely there was nothing to be scared of… "What did you want to show me?"

"This," Tom hissed, igniting his wand. He indicated what appeared to be a pile of rags on the side of the street. On second glance, Harry saw it was a tramp. He felt his brain go numb.

"What about him?" Harry asked, the inside of his mouth suddenly very dry.

"He's a Muggle," Tom said. His eyes were widening, and his smile slowly growing. It was the smile Harry liked least of all.

"I can see that," Harry said. He was beginning to feel sick. "What does it matter?"

"Why not begin our aspiration of immortality together, right here, right now?" Tom asked, gazing at Harry unblinkingly, the smile bearing his teeth. "Why not murder this filthy peasant, and bound ourselves forever? You say that you love me, and that you want to stay with me forever, so why not prove it? You've said that you're willing to kill Grindelwald, so why not become invincible before you try?"

Harry stared at Tom, too stunned to give any response besides a fearful and disbelieving stare. Tom didn't seem to notice the emotion in his gaze, and he didn't seem keen to wait for an answer either. Before Harry knew it, Tom threw a spell at the Muggle, which woke him up, and caused him to wither in pain on the floor. It was the Cruciatus Curse. Tom continued to use it even with all the screaming, a mad smile on his face…

Harry tried to speak, but his voice was hoarse, and drowned under the screams of the Muggle.

Did Tom expect Harry to join in with this? Did he not remember how upset Harry was the last time he attacked a Muggle like this? Harry had excused Tom's murder then, even forgiving it, because of the crazed circumstance in which it had been done, but now… Now there was no excuse. Tom had no reason to do this.

It was far different than watching a murder through Tom's eyes while Harry stared and stared in absolute shock. Tom had begun lighting the tramp on fire, laughing hysterically and saying things Harry could no longer understand as the tramp stumbled and struggled. The tramp lay burnt and tortured on the floor, inches away from death by the time Tom felt he was done with his work. He turned joyfully away from the Muggle, who was unsuccessfully attempting to scream in continued pain. There was something wrong with his voice, and Harry wasn't sure whether Tom had used a silencing charm or not.

"It's your turn," Harry heard Tom laugh. He stared at the damaged body on the floor, unable to move. He felt Tom walk behind him, planning to help him with this. Tom took the wand from Harry's pocket, and placed it in his hand, standing behind him as they raised it together. Tom began kissing Harry's neck softly, stopping at his ear to whisper joyfully, "Do you know what he's doing, Harry?"

Harry made no reply as he felt Tom wrapped around him, his wand pointed to the body that worded something soundless. The Muggle was speaking in Albanian, so Harry didn't know what he was trying to say.

"He's begging for death," Tom hissed. He gave a breath of laughter in Harry' ear. "Being the weak Muggle that he is, he's given up on life entirely!"

Harry was still speechless, and unsure what he should do, and if he could do it. His heart was beating sickeningly, and he felt like this was merely the worst nightmare he had ever had. He wished that it wasn't actually happening.

"Kill him, Harry," Tom implored.

Harry made no response to this, so Tom carried on talking. Adjusting their grip on the wand.

"Rid this vermin from the earth with me, and we shall be together forever… All you have to do is say the spell."

Harry could no longer think. This couldn't be real, couldn't possibly be happening… and yet there was no other explanation. The street was painfully quiet, and Harry could imagine the residents of this Muggle village fearing what might be happening outside, just like he feared it.

"The longer you wait, the more he suffers," Tom hissed. "Do it, now."

"No," Harry whispered. "I won't."

Tom appeared to have not heard him for a moment… or perhaps he had just registered the emotion in Harry's shaking voice, and paused. Harry felt Tom move away from him, his hand falling away from Harry's own. Harry lowered his wand slowly, averting his eyes from the dying Muggle. They stood, Tom a few paces behind Harry, waiting for something to happen.

Harry began walking away from the scene. He saw a flash of green light behind him, reflecting off the light stone houses, before Tom's footsteps were heard following him.

"Harry–"

Harry span on the spot, wand in hand, and Apparated away from Tom before he could say another word.