The halls of the castle were empty. Every sound was amplified, echoing loudly down the corridors. Students were forced to stay in their common room and bedroom areas. The members of the Order were keeping watch, taking shifts. Students were not permitted to use the Floo, Owls, and many had their wands confiscated. The house elves brought meals to the students.

It had been exactly 14 days since Harry's disappearance, and each day brought more pressure for Dumbledore to step up and take out his second dark lord. It should have been more simple this time, as he wasn't romantically involved with this one. Yet he was afraid. Not of dying, but of failing and leaving the world to deal with Tom on their own. There truly wasn't any hope without him or Harry.

There had been a gathering of wizards who had come to the school to seek refuge, many of who had lived or worked in neighboring villages. Many had been saved by his brother, using the secret passage behind the painting of Ariana. The Great Hall had been made into a makeshift bunker room for the adults, beds transfigured from chairs and other expendable items. Not three days ago had they welcomed two more parents, seeking shelter with their children.

Xenophilius Lovegood had been welcomed with open arms, the woman accompanying him was one he had not met before. Delores Umbridge had identified the woman as a cousin, claiming that she wasn't the sort to deal with. She ordered the Headmaster to turn Iris Hitbirk away, but the man denied her. Xenophilius had vouched for the witch, claiming she had saved him from Deatheaters in their escape. She was a hero.

Umbridge held no power here anymore. Not with the threat of Voldemort on the streets, and she could no longer get a hold of any other ministry officials with being kept on the down low. Only the Order truly knew what had been going on, and she had voiced her concern over it, as they could be telling them anything. Yet, with her unfavorable track record, her concerns went unheard. Too many of the wizards looked up to Dumbledore and believed every word he said. There were few neutral wizards, most behind the walls wanting to be an active part of the revolution. Some students had expressed their own interest in helping, some had wanted to leave. Only students of age would be considered, it was something Dumbledore would not budge on. He would not turn these children into soldiers.

There had been some exceptions in the detention, as the remaining Weasley family stayed in an old office. After news of their father being taken hostage, the family needed time to grieve. The eldest two, William and Charles had been unable to return from their overseas positions, as international travel for wizards had been suspended. It was much too dangerous for them to attempt to sneak in using muggle means, and thus they had been notified to stay hidden. Within the last owl, the two had met up, awaiting further instructions in a safe house alongside other allies.

"Albus, might we talk?" Filius' squeaky voice asked. The Headmaster stopped his pacing, placing his hands behind his back.

"My old friend, of course."

"The barrier weakens every day," The short man walked around the large desk, pushing his glasses up onto his nose. "We can only hold it for so long, the magic that is needed to feed it is draining us." Taking one look at the half-goblin, it was visible. His skin had lost its color, his hair had no shine. Molly Weasley had lost the pink flush from her normally rosy cheeks. She looked much older than her age, her wrinkles pronounced with worry, and her stature shortened.

"How long-"

"Three days. It may even be two. The magic is drawing from our cores directly, any longer and it could kill us." Albus closed his eyes. It was as he feared, Hogwarts would need to find another way to protect itself. Minerva had already dispatched the centennials, luckily they fed off the entirety of the castle. He knew in the back of his head that it was soon, as the witch had trouble transfiguring a simple table just a night before. Never in all her years while teaching had Minerva had trouble with transfiguring anything. Her magic was taking a huge toll.

"Then it is truly time to begin evacuating the students. We must keep them from the clutches of evil."

"The passageway has been intercepted... We can't think of moving them on foot. The forest is much too dangerous!"

"No, of course not. They will be watching the forest, any path that leads to the school."

"Then how-"

"Apparition, my dear friend." They had enough adults to safely travel, it would take multiple days, but they should be able to make it out of the country. Surely they would be granted asylum, in America or Africa. Europe was out of bounds, as there were indeed followers of the Dark Lord throughout the corrupt government. America would be more likely to accept him and the students, as he was the one to save them from Grindelwald. He had close ties with the ministers in Africa and had no doubt they would take in the large sum of wizards. Even if they needed to split the sum into two groups, they had to be a place for all [1].

"Would that be safe? Splinching-misaims! What about the-" The Headmaster raised his hand.

"I have full faith in it, Filius. Most Order members have excellent healing abilities. We have Poppy and Simon Liticus, he practiced medicine in his youth at St. Mungos. Splinching will not be an issue." The shorter man looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept quiet. Not having enough energy to fight this fight. "I will send word to the Ministers and we will begin as soon as we hear back."

They had to try something, and after the children were safe, then Dumbledore would have the courage to duel the Dark Lord. Without the threat of the children being taken, he would be able to breathe. To think. To fight.

Iris' first destination was the common rooms of her girls. She pleaded with the professor to allow her to hug her daughter. She had been given a meager five minutes alone with the girl. She was frightened and cried into her shoulder. She pet her daughter's head and whispered comforting words. She couldn't say anything that would incriminate her, or reveal the plan. Her daughter always meant well, but she was unable to keep a secret.

"Listen to me, Amelia." She wiped away the tears on her cheeks and smoothed her hair from her face. "You need to stay here, and you are only allowed to leave with your sister or I. Do you understand?" She was given a nod accompanied by loud sniffs. "You're going to be alright, my love." She hugged her again. Their time was up. "I love you so much."

The conversation with her elder daughter went differently, with fewer tears and more questions.

"What's it like out there? What's happening? Is he killing all the muggles, like they said?" Ivy clung to her mother's sleeve, talking a mile a minute.

"Ivy! Please-we only have a couple of minutes." The tween's mouth shut tight, and her features hardened. "Just know that you're going to be alright." She was given a doubtful look. "I promise you, everything is going to work out." She removed the hands from her sleeves and held them tightly in her own. She looked into her daughter's eyes. "I need you to keep your sister safe, as much as you can. Do let anyone take her away without you." Ivy's jaw clenched, and she looked like she wanted to cry. Instead, she squeezed her mother's hands and nodded in a silent promise.

"They aren't treating you horribly?" The small brunette shook her head.

"Everyone is so scared, mum. All of the first years and second-year sleep in the rooms with the older girls. It feels better when we have large groups... but-" She hesitated, and bit her lip. "They took away some students. The ones who had family who was known as Deatheaters." A cold wave washed through the woman. "Draco Malfoy and his friends. There were two girls who were taken away and questioned, but they came back. Pansy Parkinson, and Chloe Gifflen."

"What did they say?"

"Not much, they aren't allowed to say anything about it. There was some sort of silencing charm placed on them, and their mouths didn't work when they tried."

"I'll look into it, darling. Thank you for telling me." She pulled the child close to her and placed a chaste kiss on her head. Their time was up, and she had a little bit more information to use. She would find out where the Slytherins were taken, and make sure they were alright. Xeno had gone off to see his own daughter, and his next job was to ask around about the shield. The man would have a much easier time connecting with the Order than she. Her job now was to get information out to the Deatheaters without being caught.

She would use all her own wits to do this, her daughter didn't get her intelligence from her father's side.

Harry ignored breakfast that morning. He stayed in bed with the covers pulled up to his nose, dazing in and out of consciousness. He had several mini dreams, each as skin-crawling as the last. In one of them he was back in the Room of Prophecies, but this time the prophecy relayed that Sirius Black would kill Harry Potter. When he had turned around Sirius stabbed him with a fork in the chest, above where his heart would be.

Another was him trapped inside a small container, forced to watch Voldemort rule over a terrified group of civilians. He was inside a jewel, resting on a necklace worn by the Dark Lord. Trapped and voiceless, floating in nothingness. The last one he had was of him at a beach. The sand was almost white, and the sun was blazing against his skin. He walked and walked, yet couldn't find any shelter. The water turned red, and his skin began to melt off his bones. He watched in dismay as he melted like a candle, flesh strips sliding off and landing on the clear sand. The bones in his feet became visible, and he could feel the grains of sand between the bones. He looked to his right, and Hermione was standing on the shoreline with him. She shook her head, and her hair began to fall out as her scalp drooped.

"Sand. It gets everywhere." Then as her lips began to fall off he jerked himself awake. He was drenched in sweat again, his hair plastered to his forehead and the back of his neck. His stomach rumbled loudly, and the teen threw off the blankets in a rush. Moving the robe as he checked that his toes were intact and had all of his skin. Other than the phantom feeling of sunburn, his body was how it normally was. He scooted to the edge of the bed, throwing his legs over the side. He looked over to the table and noted that the plate for breakfast wasn't there. He didn't think he could eat right now, not even if he was starving to death. The image of Hermione's scalp made him almost gag.

He decided on a shower. He had one every day, so it was more of a routine now than a time passer. All this showering had started making his skin dry, but without lotion, he wasn't able to combat it. It was between dry skin or living with damp hair and a smell that no one would enjoy. It was an easy decision.

He stripped his clothes while he sat on the bed, not wanting to wear the wet robe that was chilling him. He walked naked to the bathroom and turned the shower on, usually he put it on hot. Allowing the steam to fill the room and heat it. He decided against it this time, not wanting to feel like he was burning again. He chose a lukewarm temperature, bordering on cold. Harry stepped into the water and stood until the steady stream. He turned his back to the shower, letting the water fall over his shoulders and down his front. He lazily ran his hands over his skin, from his shoulders to his chest. He let his hands roam downwards, passing over his protruding ribs and towards the bottom of his stomach. He tilted his head back, allowing the water to soak his hair and run over his forehead.

He felt himself relax bit by bit, and he let his hand lower to his groin area. He hadn't had a wank since before Umbridge made him scar his own hand. He had been so busy and stressed. But now, his body seemed to like the idea. Before he could make contact with his prick he heard a loud hissing noise and Nagini's head came into view.

"Hey!" Harry screeched and tried to cover himself. She pushed the shower curtain away and nosed her way over the edge of the tub.

"Nagini wants the falling water too." She continues to pull her body into the tub. Harry backed up as much as he could, past the water and against the cold wall.

"You can't just come in!"

"I just did." Harry groaned. "Make it warmer."

"Fine. I'll turn the heat up, but I'm getting out." Harry made sure to keep himself covered with his right hand while he reached around and turned the handle to hot. The temperature change was instantaneous and the air started to fog up. Harry stepped out of the tub through the other side, careful not to slip on the floor that began to puddle underneath him. Nagini hissed happily behind the curtain, her entire body in the tub now.

"I like the warm rain." Harry shook his head, sending droplets of water in all directions. He grabbed a towel and began to pat his hair.

"I like it too, but you can't just come into the shower with me like that."

"The door was open." The teen scoffed, now rubbing at his neck and chest.

"That doesn't mean you can hijack my bathing time." He was worried that the snake wouldn't understand the word hijack, but parseltongue had a strange way of translating his English. He finished drying his upper body and started along his midsection.

"But I did," The snake replied, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I noticed." He finished his legs quickly, wrapping the towel around his waist. He continued out of the warm room, walking straight to his dresser. He decided to allow Nagini a couple more minutes under the spray of the heat before he shut off the water. He was beginning to think that he did spoil her. He doubted Voldemort allowed her to barge in on his shower time. Did Voldemort even shower? Was he like Nagini, in the sense that he enjoyed warmth more because of his snake-like attributes? How snakey was he under his clothes anyways? Harry choked on the air and covered his face from embarrassment.

His mind went straight to the obvious, thinking about genitalia as a teenage boy does.

"No. No way. A tail. Yup-just a weird tail maybe and scales or something. That's it." He couldn't believe his mind went there. Would his body even have a belly button? It wasn't birthed... "Oh, Merlin. Please just stop," Harry begged his own brain.

A clattering to his left startled the half-naked boy, and he almost dropped the robe he had just about to put on. Squinting his eyes and could see that a tray of food appeared, meaning it must be lunch already. Bunching the robe up, Harry stuck his head through the hole, his arms following. The robe fell heavily to the floor, and Harry ignored the food in favor of going back into the bathroom.

"It's time to get out." The teen announced. He got a sharp unhappy hiss in reply, and for a moment he was afraid to reach his hand in the shower to turn it off. She wouldn't bite him for it, right? Only one way to find out. Harry nudged the curtain away and felt up the tiles for the handle. His fingers met a metal surface and he tugged the handle all the way to the right. The water ceased, and Nagini hissed again.

"But it feels so nice." She whined as she stuck her snout out of the curtain, just near Harry's retracting hand. He screeched again and tried to step away, thinking she was going in for the kill. In his retreat, he hit the toilet with his leg and fell sideways. He only just caught himself using the wall.

"You just gave me a heart attack!" Harry grasped at his chest while turning around. Gulping in a large breath. He had been so scared at that moment.

"Good. You turned off my warmth," She replied as she lifted herself out of the tub. The Horcrux lowered herself to the tiled floor and bypassed Harry altogether. She left the bathroom, and Harry stuck his tongue out in her direction. He went to follow her out when he stepped into a puddle left over by Nagini, and he almost fell for the second time.

"Gah!" His foot flew out from under him, and he swung his arm the opposite way to try and kept balance. He ended up doing a stupid dance when his other foot decided to join in and slide slightly. "For fuck sake!" Harry yelled as he grabbed for dear life onto the countertop. He breathed heavily against the cool stone, then began to chuckle. It must have looked so silly. He was glad no one saw it because they for sure would make fun of him.

Carefully stepping out of the bathroom, Harry used the carpet to wipe his wet feet. The bottom of his robe had gotten wet, however, and rubbed against his feet when he walked. Causing the tops to get damp. Harry groaned and vowed to talk to Voldemort about the clothing situation the next time they talked. Walking towards the bed, he noticed that Nagini was lying on the mattress, using his bedding to dry off.

"Are you serious?" He moaned.

"I am Nagini." The snake responded smartly. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. Her attitude only got worse, and Harry couldn't even blame it on anyone but himself. Choosing to stay quiet, Harry instead grabbed his glasses from the nightstand. He turned around and passed the desk altogether. His stomach was angry, but he couldn't muster up the motivation to eat. He wanted to find somewhere quiet and just wallow by himself. He could probably choose any other room and close the door. The chances of there being a way for Nagini to open every door were slim. Harry didn't believe the man would take the time and magic to charm every door with the parseltongue command.

"You can have my lunch if you want." He said over his shoulder as he left the room. The door had been left open from when Nagini slipped in. He decided on going to the larger sitting area downstairs. He still wanted to check the fireplace that was in there for any signs of Floo powder. Harry walked down the hall, and turned to the right, he made his way down the stairs and walked to the open door. He turned to shut the door, but to his surprise, there wasn't one. It was simply an archway. Harry felt extremely stupid, how did he not notice that this room had no door? It made sense, sure, but he still was irked by his own inability to be observant. He went to leave when the corner of the room caught his eye. It was darker than the rest of the room, being on the same wall, but opposite side than the window. There was a modest-sized piano tucked away, sitting as far into the room as it could be.

A piano? Why would Voldemort have a piano? Did he play? Walking up to the large instrument, Harry could tell it hadn't been touched in a while. The fallboard that covered the keys was down and had begun to collect dust. There was no sheet music on the built-in stand either. Harry didn't know anything about playing the piano, he hadn't been allowed to learn any instruments. It never really appealed to him. He ran his fingers along the fallboard, creating streaks through the dust. He was too absorbed in his musings that he hadn't realized that he was no longer alone in the room.

"The house elves said you have refused to eat." Harry raised his hands so fast, feeling like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have. He spun around to face the Dark Lord, his hands still up in a defensive pose. The intimidating silhouette of Voldemort stood, blocking the only exit.

"I just- I wasn't hungry earlier." He explained, slowly dropping his hands. It was a big fat lie, Harry had been starving the moment he woke up. Voldemort was still, and his face betrayed nothing. The link was quiet, and Harry was sure it had been closed off since he stormed out of the man's office yesterday. Thinking about yesterday made Harry cringe.

"Then you will join me for lunch now." Harry noticed it wasn't a suggestion. The boy frowned and began to roll the fabric of his sleeve between his fingertips. He had wanted to be alone, even if just for a little bit. Before he could respond in any way, the Dark Lord swiveled around and stalked away. The words 'follow me' hovered in the air. Without much of a choice, Harry strode after him. To his confusion, the man did not lead him to the dining room. Instead, he was led back upstairs.

"I thought we were going to eat?" He wondered loudly, continuing to follow behind the skeletal man, who hadn't turned even once to see if he was still following.

"I take my meals in my study." Was said after a moment. Harry didn't know how to respond to that so he chose not to. They walked the rest of the way silently. It was extremely awkward, and Harry started thinking about how he'd much rather shower with Nagini again. They entered the room, and the Dark lord walked to his own seat behind the desk. Harry noticed that the paperwork was less than yesterday, and what was left had been piled into perfect stacks. He decided to sit in the same chair as yesterday, even if it made his skin prickle. Voldemort sat in his own chair and waved his hand over a spot in front of him. A tray with plates appeared, one plate filled with small sandwiches, and the other a platter with crackers, cheese, and meats. Grabbing one corner piece of a sandwich, Voldemort waved the plate away, and it slid across the desk easily.

The Dark Lord then began to eat his piece while reading over a parchment. Harry felt like he couldn't take his eyes off the man. Voldemort was eating finger sandwiches. It baffled him to see the dark, scary wizard doing things that were so ordinary. He even held the bread like a normal person. His hands still looked like claws, however, and he wasn't envious of the sandwich. Those nails threatened to shred the bread while he just held it. Harry didn't understand why the Dark Lord needed long nails anyways, his fingers were plenty long. It didn't seem like a hygiene thing either, because they were always clean. He watched the man bring the food to his mouth and spoke aloud.

"Your fingers are so long." He commented and immediately felt like an enormous dolt. Voldemort turned his attention to the teen, his mouth pausing from opening. If the link was open he was sure the man would be confused as all hell. Instead of dignifying him with a response, Voldemort turned back to his parchment and continued to eat. Harry opted to try and keep this conversation going. "We're they always like that?" He questioned. He already knew the answer, because he had seen Tom Riddle, and that boy had normal hands. Voldemort didn't even look up this time, and Harry thought the man was ignoring him now.

"No." Came the delayed answer. Harry, now frustrated with the lack of engagement pressed on.

"Do you play the piano?" This time the link did spark. He felt something close to surprise. Shock perhaps? The Dark Lord put the piece of parchment down and leaned back in his chair, looking at Harry directly now. The teen wasn't sure if this was better or worse than not having his attention at all.

"No. I didn't have the time. Because I focused on my studies." Came the very... honest response. The second part didn't even feel like a jab toward him, merely an explanation for his simple question. Harry felt at a loss for words, at least he had answered one of his questions. He still had no idea why there was a piano in the house at all.

"Oh..." The teen remarked lamely. After looking at the man's fingers again he added, "I think you'd be really good at it." And he did. He could see the man mastering anything he wanted to, including instruments. He had no idea where this conversation was going, but neither of them was storming away or attacking the other. So this was good, right? Voldemort's eyes slightly narrowed, he was perplexed.

"Thank you," He uttered before leaning forward and continuing his reading. A moment later he blandly said, "Now be quiet and eat or get out." It made Harry want to laugh. Voldemort was uncomfortable with being complimented by him. He could just feel the edge of the link, it was slightly open. Just enough that Harry could tell Voldemort's guard had been let down a bit. He left it alone, however, in favor of grabbing a couple of slices of the finger sandwiches. His stomach growled angrily and he ate the pieces one by one whole. He stuffed them into his mouth, and after the second he wished he had something to wash the bread down with.

He grabbed for another piece, not realizing that Voldemort was watching him with crimson eyes.