The ground was rough and uncomfortable no matter how Harry sat upon it. The walls were damp from the cold weather outside, and the smell of blood, dirt, rats, and stale air was just as overpowering and pungent as always in this dark dungeon room. Harry's head was resting against a wall, his shoulders pressed right up against the dank stone, and his neck stretched up as he attempted to close his eyes, to rest for a few moments. His breath was tranquil, and his mind equally so, because he hadn't been tortured in at least five hours now. And though torture would continue, as well as his troubled thoughts and progressively more doubtful hopes of a rescue, he had time to rest now, at least, to close his eyes…

He was neither tired nor comfortable enough to fall asleep, but he was certainly drained enough for a rest. Behind his eyelids, his mind began to wander to thoughts of Tom. Harry didn't know what to think, feel, or believe anymore relating to Tom rescuing him. Any amount of time could have passed since he got here. He told himself – perhaps foolishly and optimistically – that Tom was still searching for him, still going to save him… but some part of him had almost completely given up all hope. He wanted the pain to end, and he wanted to leave this awful place, but he wasn't sure how or if this was ever going to happen.

He was waiting for something to change, he had realised. The hours trudged by so slowly, and every day was just the same. The agony of torture was harming Harry to extents he couldn't even be sure of yet, and he had given up trying to fight. He didn't speak to any of Grindelwald's followers anymore, as they used terrible spells on him, and caused him so much distress. Everything was so unreal, and he was numbed. Very few of his wounds were healing, so he was suffering constantly. He just wanted to rest, to dream of Tom forevermore…

But at the moment, dreaming was quite a hard thing to do. The occasional footsteps of another person within this dungeon room stopped Harry from falling sleep completely, and Harry couldn't get used to the presence of the second Wizard who had been standing in this room for the last ten solid minutes or so. Emeric appeared greatly stressed, but he hadn't told Harry why yet. Harry hadn't pushed the subject very much, but now, as Emeric distracted him from every source of diversion, Harry thought he might as well speak to his ex-workmate.

"What are you still doing here?" Harry asked, not moving his body as he opened his eyes to gaze up at the deeply contemplative Emeric. When no answer was given, Harry continued talking. "You may as well get it over and done with, if they sent you in here to torture–"

"Shut up," Emeric cut across him in an agitated tone. "That's not why I'm here…"

Harry raised his eyebrows for about a second, his tired eyes blinking slowly. He closed his eyes completely and sighed, idly turning his head away from Emeric a little. "Just tell me why you're here, you're distracting me from thought."

"You'll be quite unable to find time for thought pretty soon," Emeric warned, evidently still lost in nerves.

Harry opened his eyes, and turned his head to glare at Emeric. "Is that a threat?"

"It's a warning…"

"Meaning a threat," Harry observed. He watched Emeric more closely, noticing how he was biting his lips, his brow creased in concern, and perhaps even fear. Harry didn't know why Emeric would be here, if not to torture him. But then again, he could be lying about that. Harry hadn't seen Emeric very often these last few days, and Emeric had not yet tortured him properly, so maybe he was nervous about doing it fully now. Though why wouldn't he just do it, Harry wondered? Maybe there was something else…

"Please, tell me what's wrong, and why you're here," Harry implored.

Emeric appeared even more worried, and he continued to avoid eye contact with Harry as he thought. His hands twisted together in vague unease in front of him, and he couldn't seem to stay in one place, as he half-paced, half-stood in a variety of new positions. Harry was close to asking the other Wizard again what he was here for, but he soon saw signs of Emeric being close to speaking. Emeric was rubbing his face, lowering his hands and placing them together first vaguely in prayer, then with netted fingers, as he turned to face Harry.

"It was decided today, amongst all of the other Wizards in the league of Grindelwald," Emeric began in a pained, struggling tone, "that you are to… are to…"

"Are to what?" Harry urged.

"Are to be killed tonight," Emeric finally managed. "Since you won't say a word more to any of our people, they can see no further use in you."

Wide green eyes met brown, and there was a silence. Emeric seemed unable to gaze at Harry for very long as Harry sat away from the wall a little, staring in disbelief. Emeric turned away, and stared into space, still appearing deeply concerned.

"I should have told you before," he said, his brown eyes staring at the floor, "but I… just couldn't…"

It was surprising to Harry when he actually felt dread and fear sour through him as the weight of this information fell upon him. Grindelwald's followers had actually decided on when he was going to die… they were sick of him, and he was useless to them now, so they were going to end his life, to find the easiest way out of capturing and torturing him. His time was up, and Tom was nowhere near to help him. The numbness that Harry had felt for the last few days was rapidly disappearing, being replaced with terror and fright.

Harry blinked a few times to be sure that Emeric wouldn't see the dismay in his eyes, even though Emeric was staring at the floor. Harry's heart was pounding, but he wouldn't allow himself to show signs of weakness to any followers of Grindelwald. If he was going to be murdered tonight, he wasn't going to give Emeric the satisfaction of seeing his heart break when he thought about dying without Tom getting anywhere close to him again. Harry felt as though he was drifting out of his body, loosing grip of reality…

Frustration mingled with his compete worry, and absence of hope. He tried to be brave – or act it, anyway.

"I guessed as much before," Harry voiced. "So, when do they want to kill me, exactly?"

Emeric turned to stare at Harry. Harry didn't look up to see what expression he wore. "They plan to do it as soon as possible. That's why no one has bothered you in hours. You're at the back of their minds now."

Harry tried to ignore his stomach, which leapt in nerves. He realised why Emeric must be here now… "So they expect you to do it?" Harry asked in little over a whisper, not trusting his voice as he thought of Tom. "That's why you're so nervous?"

"No," Emeric denied. Harry heard him take a few steps towards him, and he looked up, flinching slightly. Emeric was not about to attack him, however. He instead appeared to have moved towards Harry in an uncontrollable act of trying to reassure him. Harry stared up into Emeric's eyes, as he stood about three meters away. "No, they don't even know that I'm here."

"How do I know you aren't lying?" Harry asked. Emeric was too far away, and this room was too dim, for Harry to use Legilimency properly. "How do I know this isn't just a ruse, for you to lead me to death more easily?"

"Because if they wanted me to kill you," Emeric explained, "I wouldn't lead you to death in such a deceiving way, no matter how nice it might be for a time."

Harry could tell that his ex-workmate was being honest in this claim, but they both stared at each other for a while after this, each trying to work out exactly what the other was thinking. It wasn't clear exactly why Emeric was here, if not to kill or torture Harry, but Harry had a weak suspicion or two to explain it. He didn't have any proof yet, unless Emeric's sad brown eyes told him anything. After about a minute, it seemed that Emeric wanted to make his reasons for being here a little clearer.

"I want to help you," Emeric said in a weak voice, gazing down at Harry. "More than this, I want you to allow me to help you. If they kill you tonight, if they throw away your life for nothing…"

He seemed to be struggling with his words, but he forced himself to continue talking. Harry guessed that his life being cut short probably helped Emeric a lot with continuing.

"I–I care about you," Emeric stammered, with a shininess in his eyes that Harry had never seen in Tom's through all the years of being with him. He swallowed, and appeared very distressed about what he had to say next. "But I don't know how I could possibly get you out of here alive, without getting caught or – or having them chase us later."

Harry didn't know what to respond to this. Emeric gazed at him with such emotion, such clear meaning. As Emeric walked slowly towards Harry, the latter could read every thought, could see every struggle he was going through. Harry dropped his eyes from Emeric's, trying to think straight. Was this truly his last – his best – chance of getting out of here? Harry's chest was raising and falling with deep breaths, his heart hammering within his ribcage. Was this really how he was going to save himself?

"You look so different," Emeric remarked in a hushed voice, analyzing Harry further with glassy eyes. "I could still recognise you the second I saw you, but I was very unsure at first. You obviously know how to transfigure yourself alarming well. You know how to shield your appearance, and take on a new identity, so we could use this skill to hide ourselves, to live our lives happily t-together… without them catching us."

Harry could feel his eyes burning with unexpected tears, and he tried not to show them to Emeric. It was so pathetic, so terribly sorrowful that he should end up with his best chance of survival being to run away with Emeric, shielding his appearance from Tom, Grindelwald's followers, and the whole rest of the world forevermore. Harry couldn't stand the emotion in Emeric's voice, and he couldn't stand to face the fact that Tom hadn't come to save him. Emeric believed in this plan working so well, and it caused Harry so much pain…

Harry tried to imagine running away with Emeric, and living out in the countryside perhaps, away from everyone he had ever known from Hogwarts and elsewhere in this era. His heart ached as he thought about finding out where Tom was if he lived with Emeric, and discovering where Tom had been all this time Harry sat suffering in a dungeon. He felt his eyes burn further as he thought about finding out whether Tom even cared to save him, while Harry lived a life with Emeric, making Emeric's one true dream come true. Emeric craved being with Harry and staying with him without Harry rejecting him just because he was another male. Now that Emeric knew Harry had been with Tom, the hope and desire within him had increased so drastically…

Emeric had walked towards Harry completely now, and he was crouching down to be at Harry's level, gazing at Harry in such blatant apprehension and devotion. More tears that Harry wished would go away poured from his eyes when he felt Emeric's fingertips touch his jaw, urging him to look at Emeric in the eyes. Harry hadn't felt such a reassuring and caring gesture in what felt like far too long. He closed his eyes, turning his face towards Emeric, and taking in the feeling of shaking fingers that would never have belonged to Tom. When Harry opened his eyes, Emeric stared with so much emotion that Harry could barely believe it.

"Please," Emeric begged, "I can't control how much my mind thinks about you know – I can't take it. And now that they… now that they want to kill you…"

Harry could barely think as he stared into Emeric's soft brown eyes, taking in all the strain Emeric was going through. Harry tried to swallow, to clear his dry throat, but it did no good. He tried to gather his thought again, and struggled to understand the situation fully. He was disoriented with how close Emeric was. "You're not Tom," Harry breathed.

"But I'm here," Emeric stated in a strained voice, more tears flowing from his gentle eyes. "I'm here, and I need to know that you'll do this with me – you'll run away with me, and – and we'll leave all of this behind us."

Harry didn't know what to do. He felt dizzy gazing at Emeric in this dimly lit room, Emeric's warm fingers caressing his jaw so cautiously, so caringly. Harry didn't know what he was supposed to do, if his only options were Emeric or death. Emeric blatantly cared about him so deeply, and had obviously thought about Harry so much even after years of absence. Harry felt his heart ache again, and in a trembling voice he said, "I don't want to die…"

"I know," Emeric whispered, his reassuring hands holding Harry's face securely, "I don't want you to die either… I c-couldn't live with knowing I could have – could have helped you…"

His eyes were slowly moving down to view Harry's semi-parted lips. Before Harry knew it, he felt Emeric kissing him, his lips pressing against Harry's own so carefully, and so tenderly, that Harry was dumbfounded. Emeric's lips lingered on Harry's own without moving for a few seconds, before he appeared scared that Harry wasn't responding, but Harry leant forwards when he tried to pull away, pressing his lips against Emeric's own once, and again, and again until they had formed a unbearably numbing pattern that progressed in speed very rapidly.

Harry licked Emeric's lips, urging Emeric to allow him access to his mouth. Emeric's hand was moving towards Harry's hair, but he was unsure of himself even as he kissed Harry deeply, their breath warm and rough in this cold dungeon. This kiss wasn't a tenth of what Harry had known with Tom, but it filled a gap, and submerged him in emotion as he bit Emeric's lips, and encouraged him to slide his fingers through Harry's hair…

Tom would never have to be told what to do, Harry reflected, losing some interest in the kiss when he thought about Tom. More sorrow filled Harry when he thought about Tom, but he tried to ignore it with more of Emeric's kiss. Yet this just wasn't covering the pain Harry needed to distract himself from. Harry pulled away from the kiss, Emeric trying to catch his lips again, his face remaining close to Harry's. Harry couldn't help but think about what would happen if he chose to go with Emeric. He tried to think about what might happen if they lived together…

And suddenly, he remembered how Emeric had used the Cruciatus Curse on him for merely mentioning how he and Tom were together. Harry had been tortured so much, he had almost completely forgotten about Emeric's helping hand in causing more pain than he had ever suffered through in his entire life. He could think of nothing else, and he stood very still, feeling Emeric's breath brushing against him. If he ran away with Emeric then even mentioning Tom, or any struggle relating to Harry not being over Tom, could send Emeric over the edge. Harry would live in fear of that one curse being used again…

"You're not Tom," Harry found himself saying more strongly than before. "Tom would never hurt me, and would never use the Cruciatus Curse against me… I don't love you, and I never could. Even if I die in this place, and even if Tom has forgotten about me entirely, leaving me here to rot… I've given him my heart and soul, and I can't change that now."

Emeric pulled away from Harry, his eyes wide. He didn't seem to know how to react, but Harry felt as though something had suddenly changed in Emeric, as his gaze was solid and far less emotional than before…

"You'd rather die than live with me?" Emeric demanded.

"I'd rather die than suffer with you…"

Emeric didn't seem to know how to react to this, and Harry watched his mind, becoming somewhat fearful of the sudden change within it. Emeric was freaking out, even if he tried not to show it. "They're going to kill you!"

"And so would you," Harry stated, his voice slightly strained. "You would kill me for missing Tom."

Emeric stood up, still staring at Harry, but backing away now. "Tell me you're joking."

Harry attempted to stand too, finding it difficult but not impossible with all his injuries. "I'm not joking."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the wand in Emeric's hand twitch. "You said you didn't want to die in this place."

"I don't want to," Harry said, struggling to look at Emeric in the eyes now, as Emeric slowly got more and more angry. "But I'd rather die here than in some lost place with you."

Emeric began glaring at Harry now, his adoration completely replaced with vexation and distraught.

"He kissed me too, you know," Emeric told him quietly. "He's crazy, and he kissed me when he tried to get me to leave my job for you."

"Very funny," Harry spat, glowering at Emeric for saying this.

"I'm not lying," Emeric assured him. He laughed in anger, to cause Harry pain. "I don't know why he did it, but he did."

Harry stared at Emeric, unable to believe what he was hearing, and what he was seeing in Emeric's mind. It appeared to him as though Emeric wasn't lying about this, and he couldn't think. Tom had never told him this, and Harry suddenly wondered whether Tom did that sort of thing often. Harry wasn't able to see into Tom's mind, and here Harry was now, about to die, with no chance of Tom saving him now. Harry fought with the despair that suddenly filled him.

Harry felt as though he heard a deep, rumbling noise coming from somewhere above him, but it appeared that Emeric didn't hear it. Harry began to speak again, trying not to give into sadness in the little time he had left. "You're more insane than he is," Harry declared. "At least he knows when to stop hurting the people he needs."

"People he needs?" Emeric repeated, his voice spiteful. "I think you're the one who needs him now, Richard. But where is he, do you suppose? Having sex with a bunch of venerable boys in your absence, may–"

Harry made a lunge for Emeric, to attack him in any way he could, but the chains around his hands stopped him from going too far away from the wall. If this hadn't stopped Harry, however, than the Cruciatus Curse Emeric threw at him certainly would have. Harry began to yell deafly as white-hot iron felt as though it was breaking his body, burning every limb, muscle, bone, and inch of skin. When the unbearable pain stopped, Harry found himself kneeling on the floor, panting for breath and battling with the intense fury that gripped him.

That booming sound pounded in Harry's ears again, and he wasn't sure it was just his mind making him delusional in some slight way or not. Harry continued panting where he was, even when he saw two shoes appear in front of him. Emeric stood above him, but he didn't look up just yet. All Harry could think about was how he was going to die no matter what he. He listened to the sound of his own breathing, perhaps as Emeric did, before either of them spoke.

"Would a few Cruciatus Curses really be worse than death?" Emeric wondered aloud, as he watched Harry. "I wouldn't have harmed you, if you actually liked me… I wouldn't harm you now."

Harry looked up at Emeric, about to say, "Well, it's a bit late for that promise now, isn't it?" But something was stopping him from saying this. He could have sworn he heard that distant booming sound again. He tried to look for signs of acknowledgements for the sound in Emeric's mind… but instead Harry found that Emeric was focused on one single thing: How very alluring Harry looked glaring up at him from his knees. They were very close now, despite the difference in height…

The booming sounded again, and this time Emeric heard it too. He thought about it for a second, before he continued thinking about what he wanted to do to Harry, how he wanted to punish him. They stared at each other for a long moment, Emeric contemplating lewd actions, and Harry wondering what could be making all the noise above them. It was very far away, probably above ground… and a soaring, rejuvenating sense of hope was filling Harry. His mind was racing, as he tried to think of a plan. Emeric's mind inspired him.

"I want you," Harry whispered, barely able to keep the anger out of his voice… though that might have been mistaken for passion. "I've always craved to be with you, to have you…"

Emeric blinked, staring at Harry in disbelief. This gave Harry the perfect chance, when Emeric's guard was down, to use as much energy as he could manage to leap up, wrapping his one of his arms around Emeric's neck, and using his free hand to take the loosely-held wand out of Emeric's hand. Before either of them knew it fully, Harry had Emeric facing away from him, a wand pointed painfully into his neck. Harry moved the wand away for only a second, to get rid of the chains around his wrists. It was such a relief when he was free from the metal, able to do what he wanted to now…

Emeric began shouting in German the moment he realised that Harry intended to hurt him, and Harry began backing away to the furthest wall from the door, Emeric as his hostage. Harry was infuriated and terribly anxious as he heard people moving outside this dark room. He could have sworn he heard the booming noise again, as he reflected upon the fact that if no one would get him out of here fairly, then he was going to have to do it on his own. He wasn't going to die in this hellhole, and he would use all of his newfound energy to escape from this place now.

Before long, followers of Grindelwald opened the door, shouting back at Emeric, and staring in shock when they saw that Harry had indeed taken Emeric's wand, and freed himself. Harry knew that Wizarding hostage situations didn't work quite the same way as Muggle ones, and he knew that Grindelwald's followers wouldn't care about hurting Emeric too if it came down to that, but Harry was well prepared to leave in a fight if he had to. The first few Wizards at the door didn't throw any spells at Harry, however. He shocked them, but it appeared that something in another part of the building was distracting them from stopping Harry now.

When Grindelwald's followers left this dungeon without explanation, not even bothering to fight him, Harry's heart suddenly pulsed in elation for the first time in days. There was someone else causing great havoc to another part of the building, and Harry suddenly wondered and hoped whether it might be the Death Eaters at last, here to rescue him what could have been a little too late. There was another crashing boom above them, and it was much more audible now…

Before Harry could relish in the thought of rescue, however, the door to the room slammed shut with a loud 'bang'. Harry didn't know how this had happened, and he wondered if maybe the doors closed automatically if no guards were around…

"Please, let me go," Emeric begged. Harry gripped his neck more tightly. "The guards were talking about how they can't kill you now – now that you've proven you still have something t-to live for–"

"He's lying," Harry suddenly heard someone hiss. He turned to look towards his right, where the noise had come from, but there was no one there. Harry's heart was beating quickly. It had sounded like Tom…

"Did you hear that?" Harry asked Emeric.

"Hear what?"

"Lying badly, at that," Tom added, this time a little more forwards. Still, there was no one there. Harry wondered if he had finally lost it…

"I thought that was you hissing," Emeric said after a pause.

Harry realised that Emeric was staring towards the second source of the noise, and his heart missed a beat. He tried to think, but it seemed impossible now. Before he could even hope that Tom might be in the room with them, Harry saw movement in front of them, and realised that someone had been hiding beneath an invisibility cloak. It was Tom.

Harry stared, suddenly forgetting where he was, and what he was supposed to be doing. Tom was as handsome as ever, but he was blatantly lacking sleep, for his eyes were redder and darker than usual, and he was scruffier than Harry had ever seen before. All of this told Harry in a rush what Tom had blatantly been going through these last few days. Tom had been searching for Harry continuously, and Harry suddenly felt like an idiot for doubting it before.

He knew this wasn't a dream, because the pain in his body was still very prominent, but Harry felt as though it may as well have been one as he walked towards Tom in a daze. He reached a hand up to touch Tom's face, feeling his strong jaw and warm skin beneath his fingertips. Tom gazed at him, taking in all that he could see of Harry's appearance. Without exchanging a word, and without doing much more than staring longingly, Tom began to kiss Harry, his lips pressing first upon Harry's own, and then upon every inch of Harry's skin he could touch, as though he too could hardly believe they were together again.

Tom's kisses felt so much more powerful and gratifying than Harry had remembered. Tom found his mouth again, and they kissed passionately, their breath irregular and their arms wrapped around each other in a disoriented whirl of relief and pure ecstasy. Tom's hands were gripping Harry's head roughly, his fingers tangling themselves in Harry's hair through pure passion and excitement at being with him again.

Harry wanted to submerge himself in every inch of Tom's existence. Tom had returned, against all odds, to come and rescue Harry… he could hardly believe it, as he felt Tom's tongue dance with his own elegantly. Tom's warm breath, his familiar scent, and his ardent touch was entrancing Harry so very much, he could barely handle it. He pressed himself closer to Tom, kissing him deeply, and showing him how much he had missed him, as Tom did the same. When Harry and Tom pulled away from the kiss, it was in nothing but satisfaction, and the need to speak verbally.

"Where were you?" Harry asked in a mix of anger and alleviation. They still held each other close, partially wishing to continue kissing forever.

"I tried so hard to find you sooner," Tom explained, gazing down at Harry and saying these words with undeniable sincerity. "I didn't know where this place might be, and all leads to you had been severed on the night of your disappearance. Please, forgive me taking so long."

"You don't need to apologize," Harry said, admiring Tom's dark grey eyes. "I was an idiot for falling for Quentin's tri–"

With a flash of silver light, and a sound like a firecracker, Harry's words were interrupted. Before Harry knew it, a spell had cut between Tom and himself, causing them to fly in opposite directions and crash to the ground painfully. When Harry looked up, he didn't see a heard of Grindelwald's followers at the door as he had expected. Instead, Harry saw Emeric leaping across the room, trying to attack Tom with a second wand that Harry didn't know he had. Harry lay on the opposite side of the room, struggling with his now aching body.

With another flash of light, Harry knew a second spell had been used, but he couldn't hear nor see what it was, so assumed it had missed. Harry raised his wand, seeing Emeric attack Tom ruthlessly. Tom appeared to be trying to reach for his wand, but something was stopping him. Emeric raised his wand again to attack Tom, but Harry was too quick.

"CRUCIO!" Harry bellowed, using all of the anger he had gathered to fuel into the spell as he pointed his wand at Emeric.

The spell hit him square in the back, and Emeric began twitching and screaming in agony. He lay on the floor next to Tom, suffering the effect of the spell for a moment, before it suddenly stopped, and Harry became distracted by the sight of Tom. Forgetting his own pain, and forgetting how much he hated Emeric now, Harry clambered up to head towards Tom, dropping to his knees next to his lover's rapidly bleeding form.

"Tom…"

Harry stared down at Tom, watching his eyes flicker open to the sound of his name. Harry was about to begin healing the deep gashes across Tom's chest, before he remembered about Emeric. He turned to his left, and saw that Emeric had stood up. Harry pointed his wand at the already standing and armed Wizard, and the two of them stared at each other in pure loathing.

Harry wanted to look back down at Tom, as Tom's breath began to quicken, but he knew Emeric would curse him if he looked away. Harry wished that Emeric would edge towards the exit of the room a little faster, but he knew this hope was futile.

"This won't be the last time you see me," Emeric said in a maddened, hateful tone. "You still owe me a Cruciatus Curse, Richard… I'll let you decide whether you want it accompanied with screams of agony or pleasure."

Harry threw another curse at Emeric, but it missed. The follower of Grindelwald ended up running for the door, slamming it shut again and leaving Harry and Tom alone after a few more attempted curses. When Harry turned to look down at Tom, he was shocked to see that Tom was smiling up at him.

"Why are you smiling?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"I'm immortal, my love," Tom reminded him softly, his lungs evidently hurting him. His smile only faded when he sat up, reaching a hand to his bleeding diaphragm. "And I'm sure I can't be in any worse of a condition than you are by now."

"I'm fi–"

"You're not fine," Tom interrupted, gazing at Harry caringly. He looked down at the slices and cuts in Harry's robes, which showed some of his wounds.

"I don't care if I'm more hurt," Harry stated. "You need more immediate medical attention."

Harry raised his wand, but Tom placed a hand on it lightly to stop him.

"That isn't your wand," Tom observed. "It would be best if I healed us, as kind as your offer is."

Harry didn't try and stop it when Tom lifted his own wand to his chest, mending the deep gashes in him with complex enchantments that he mumbled softly. He then turned his wand on Harry, who had been examining Emeric's lighter, slightly thinner wand. Harry could hardly believe that he had lost Draco's wand, after getting so used to it…

He felt the magic Tom was using begin to set in. It stung a little bit, but it was completely worth it when Harry felt different cuts on his body begin to heal. He couldn't help but relish in the feeling of mending skin, even if he knew his main injuries couldn't be healed in such a short amount of time. When Tom had finished healing him enough so he wouldn't be stopped by pain, they stood up, preparing to leave.

"Get under the cloak with me," Tom said. "Emeric won't tell the other followers that we're using an invisibility cloak, because I'm sure he doesn't actually know how I got here. He was looking in the wrong place."

"The cloak can't be taken off with a Summoning Charm, anyway," Harry informed Tom, as they stood close enough for the cloak to cover them both.

Tom looked at Harry in surprise. "Did you put that magic on it?"

"No," Harry responded, "It was always this way, I think… I didn't buy it myself, I was given it."

Tom nodded, and didn't press the subject past this. They needed to focus on getting out of here – and quickly.

"Let's go," Tom suggested, taking a few slow steps, and speeding up when Harry followed. "The others are waiting above ground–"

The door to the room burst open, and the invisible Harry and Tom were face-to-face with an ugly, enraged follower of Grindelwald. They backed away, as the follower began yelling in angry German. Others were waiting outside, but it appeared that they hadn't the faintest clue that Harry and Tom were here, for they retreated out of the room and continued searching for them elsewhere, yelling for others on the way.

"They're trying to find us," Tom confirmed. "They know I'm here, but I doubt that this will make any difference in our escape… Come on."

They entered the hall outside of the dungeon room cautiously. It was odd for Harry, to finally view the corridor outside the space he had spent the last however many days in, but he didn't dwell upon the thought for long. They were standing in between three corridors, two of which were empty of people. Tom began heading down the one to their left, and Harry followed with quiet footsteps.

They passed many doors, and a few more empty corridors, before heading up some steps, onto a new floor. The hallways were dim, and made up of dark stones that were placed plainly together to make a basic, dull structure. The torches were spaced distantly, but the doors to new rooms were quite close. Harry and Tom could hear a few other Wizards yelling within the rooms, and Harry had a feeling that they weren't other followers of Grindelwald, when rattling chains could be heard. He wondered how many people were questioned here regularly…

"It should be this way," Tom said softly, holding Harry's hand as he led him down another corridor. Harry could hear other voices up ahead – angry voices, and distant shouting. "We're almost there, almost free… A few of the others should be waiting for us."

"They didn't come inside with you?"

"I couldn't let them," Tom explained, "They would only get themselves killed, if they were to fight against Grindelwald's followers."

Harry could see figures running past the end of the long corridor they were on. "And they won't get killed now?"

"They're too far away to be attacked," Tom assured him. "It's too dark for them to be seen, I'm sure…"

The end of this corridor revealed Wizards gathering to the left, and people travelling around on the right. Tom led them right, and they passed a few hurrying Wizards without a collision in this wide passageway. Harry could feel a soft breeze, telling him that they were close to the outside world now… Tom led him up another steep flight of stairs, along a short passage, and up another flight.

More talking and shouting could be heard, and Harry was sure that spells were being fired somewhere. There were more wizards around, but so far they had voided all of them without suspicion. Tom was holding Harry's hand more tightly, walking faster and placing a silencing charm on his shoes, and Harry's bare feet. They were heading up more corridors, and more wind could be felt. Harry saw light from what could only be spells flashing up ahead, and Tom led him towards this. They found themselves lingering even closer to people now.

Tom navigated their way past many of the Wizards who shouted and hurried around. Up ahead, a massive hole in one of the corridor walls could be seen, and when Harry and Tom headed towards it, accidently brushing onto one or two confused Wizards by this point, Harry saw a long, ungracefully carved tunnel leading outside. Tom had evidently caused this damage himself, and Harry was quite impressed, as Tom pulled him quickly through the recently made passage.

Out in the open, Harry filled his lungs with fresh, cold winter air. There were many Wizards shouting and running about up here, throwing spells at some shadows in the distance that Harry could barely see, but Tom guided Harry past all the people. They were heading for the shadows, trying to avoid as many spells as they could as they began to run.

Harry was happier than he had been in months as he raced with Tom across a vast, snowy landscape, oblivious to the freezing ground beneath his feet, and focusing only on Tom's warm hand in his own. The silhouettes they sprinted towards were growing clearer, and Harry's heart was pounding in his hears. He could see other Wizards, the Death Eaters, running around the biggest form, which was about ten feet high, and very large. It seemed too small to be a Dragon, and Harry couldn't work out what else it might be…

Harry felt Tom let go of his hand, and take the invisibility cloak off of them. When they were visible, many of the Death Eaters saw them, and a few turned away as though frightened, and Harry sensed there was something wrong. Tom began marching towards his friends, and Harry was close behind him, looking at the nervous Avery, Dolohov, Lestrange, and Gonson, who stood closest to them now.

"You idiots!" Harry heard Tom bellow, indifferent to the continuous spells that flew overhead in flashes of colour. "I gave you all one job to do! One measly, simple job, and you couldn't even manage that! You useless, worthless swines!"

Harry was standing in front of the Death Eaters, watching their nervous reactions. Tom had stopped walking to glare at his friends, and they stared back sheepishly. Harry thought in confusion that Tom was yelling at the Death Eaters for being late, or stopping him from getting to Harry more quickly…

"We didn't mean for it to happen!" Avery exclaimed, backing away from Tom somewhat. "We didn't expect them to do any damage to us from this far!"

"That Dragon was twenty-five foot high, with a glittering-fucking-gold horn on its head!" Tom shrieked. "Of course they were going to see it, as soon as anything illuminated its body! It breathes fire, and spells shed light, you imbeciles!"

When Harry looked again, he saw that the shadowy mass in front of many of the Death Eaters was in fact a Dragon after all. As spells flew over their heads, and illuminated the scene faintly, Harry could indeed see the glittering horn on the young Dragon's head. It lay on the floor, it's wide eyes staring at nothing, and it's nostrils taking in no more air. It was perfectly dead.

There was a loud crashing sound, and soft pinging noises could be heard as spells were fired lower, now rebounding off the tough scales of the Dragon. Grindelwald's people were moving closer, and Tom noticed this at the same time as Harry. He looked back at the advancing Wizards, before turning to his Death Eaters again.

"What are you all waiting for?" he demanded angrily from his friends. "Get back to Albania, all of you!"