Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!

Admittedly, I probably could have drawn out Harry and Marvolo's turmoil a bit longer but, personally, I don't like reading numerous chapters of angst between characters so I wasn't going to do that here. Sorry, if you're really into that but I struggled just writing a single chapter's worth of it and I knew I couldn't drag it much longer. I already struggle writing arguments, because I'm not a confrontational person and I hate having arguments, so I'm not a fan of writing them. I've read and reread this and I think it's a bit stilted and not my best, but I wanted to post this on Harry Potter's birthday, so I hope it is still good. That being said, I do apologize for the idiocy these two display in the heat of anger.

Anyway, the next chapter is Neville's parents and then some Wizengamot and potentially some Dumbledore stuff, if not the next chapter then the one after it. The past few chapters have been very character-oriented, but we will be picking up with the plot and the politicking soon. So stick with me if that's what you're here for.

I want to say thank you again to all of you who have liked and/or followed this piece. It is astounding to me the amount of interest and praise I've received since this story began just over two years ago. I hope to continue to be worthy of your well-wishes and your high esteem.

Deal

Harry stumbled out of the Floo and caught himself on the couch. His stomach turned but luckily he didn't get sick. The longer he held the necklace the more repulsed he felt. He could feel the pain emitting from the jewelry, could feel the pitiful screaming echoing in his ears. He wanted to throw the necklace as far as he could; wanted to curl into a ball with his hands over his ears. He wanted to weep and mourn for the agony held within the necklace but he didn't. He took shallow breaths and he tried to focus.

"Harry, I didn't expect you back so soon," Marvolo said, striding into his office. Harry didn't know why he hadn't been in his office, but that was the least of his concerns. "I thought you would be spending more time with your companions."

Harry stared at Marvolo. The screaming became a high-pitched shrieking in his head and Harry wanted to scream with it. The man looked just as perfect and handsome as always and his heart gave a traitorous lurch. Part of him wished his friends hadn't talked him through his emotional breakthrough just last night, his idiotic feelings certainly wouldn't help right now.

"Are you alright? You seem — What's that?" Marvolo asked, stopping next to his desk, his voice empty and chilled as he noticed the necklace clenched in Harry's fist.

"Why don't you tell me," Harry said just as coldly.

He felt so stupid. He should have guessed. Death had hinted at this already and Harry had come across the concept in his books but he hadn't thought… he hadn't wanted to believe Marvolo capable of such actions. He'd hoped it was something else, not...not this. And there were more...Harry wanted to shout and scream at the man before him. Wanted to beg and plead for understanding but he didn't. He couldn't handle this conversation emotionally, he needed to be clear-headed. The screaming grew louder and Harry thought his ears might start bleeding from the sheer agony.

Marvolo stared at him for a long moment before straightening his shoulders even more before moving to sit behind his desk, putting distance and barriers between them. "It looks like a necklace, an heirloom most likely. It reminds me of something I once came across in Borgin and Burkes."

Fury flared in his gut at the avoidance, the dismissal, the lie. "Try again."

"I don't know what it is you're expecting me to say," Marvolo said primely. His unaffected, uncaring, aloof mask would have been believable if he could keep his gaze trained off of the necklace. Every other second it would flicker from Harry's face to the necklace. "It's an heirloom necklace, I don't recall coming across it before."

Harry strode forward and slammed the necklace down on the desk. He leaned forward so that their faces were inches apart. Marvolo looked completely poised, his face carved from stone, but the large swallow was the giveaway about the man's true nerves.

"Don't. Lie. To. Me," Harry hissed between gritted teeth.

"Don't demand things of me," Marvolo snapped back without hesitation, his voice pure ice. "I owe you nothing. You are nothing. How dare you demand anything of me."

Harry's heart shuttered painfully. He could almost feel the cracks splintering through it. Well, at least he knew he was right. His feelings wouldn't ever be returned. But that didn't matter now anyway. What mattered was that Marvolo had made Horcruxes and Harry had to fix it. He had to fix it because Death had ordered it. He had to fix it because despite knowing his feelings would be forever unrequited he couldn't imagine the man he loved living with a partial soul.

"I know what this is and I know it's yours," he said roughly. Marvolo remained quiet but Harry could see a flicker of unease enter those eyes that normally held him so entranced. "I'm a Necromancer or did you forget? Do you really think I wouldn't be able to sense Death Magic?"

Pushing away from the desk, Harry backed away rubbing his hands over his face and leaving the necklace on the desk. Marvolo stared at the necklace before slowly picking it up in his long slender fingers. "Can you not feel the pain it emits?" Harry whispered weakly. Now that he had let go of it, he could breathe a little easier but he could still sense the pain radiating from the necklace, it permeated the air of the small office. Harry thought he would choke on it if he remained for much longer. "Death warned me about this," he muttered and Marvolo looked back up at him, his grip tightening around the piece of his soul. "Death warned me but I didn't want to believe it. Not this. Marvolo, how could you? And you made more than just this one. Don't bother denying it, I know," Harry said when Marvolo opened his mouth to probably refute the statement. Harry assumed he'd guessed right when Marvolo shut his mouth once again. "Well? What do you have to say?"

"What do you wish me to say?" Marvolo asked, too quiet to be fully dismissive.

"The fucking truth!" Harry shouted before taking another deep breath. Be calm, be calm, he chanted to himself. "I want to know why. I want to know why a supposed genius like yourself would ever consider doing…" Harry trailed off and tugged at his hair, stepping away again and turning his back on the necklace and Marvolo.

"I don't see why I need to explain myself to you. You are my ally, not my keeper," Marvolo replied with a sneer.

Harry whirled around to face him again. He could practically see the walls forming before his very eyes. "I'm not asking as your ally. I'm asking as a bloody Necromancer whose job it is to make sure people don't do this shit."

"Considering all of this happened before your birth I don't believe my actions fall under your jurisdiction as it has already occurred and not in the process."

"Yeah, it happened before my time but now I have to fix it."

Marvolo jolted a bit. "Fix it? How?"

"Later. First, you need to start talking."

"No," Marvolo said, almost childishly, standing up from his chair. His arms were crossed and the necklace remained in his hand. He looked so cold and blank, more like a statue than ever. "I have no need to explain anything to you, as I said before. So you can just leave now."

"What?"

"You're leaving, yes? I've done something that goes against your Necromancer honor, my past is intolerable, and you won't be able to remain any longer," Marvolo said with a derisive scoff. "So leave."

Harry blinked, a cold chill suppressing the heat of his anger momentarily. "What are you talking about? I'm not going anywhere."

"And why not, I'm not allowing you to 'fix this'. We've sworn against attacking each other anyway. This may be a small piece but it is still a piece of me."

"Whoa, whoa," Harry said, holding his hands up as though to physically halt the conversation. "Marvolo, I'm not leaving. You told me before that you wanted me to stay and I… you know what, fine. You want me to leave. Fine. I will. I won't intrude on your life any longer," Harry said hotly, his anger and frustration and heartache fueling his temper. "But I still have to fix it. It's my job. You may think I'm nothing but Death expects me to fulfill my orders. I'll leave after." Harry took a few deep breaths, he had the sudden urge to cry and that made him angrier.

"Well, Death will just have to accept his minion—" Harry flinched "—failing at orders. We've sworn not to harm each other. You can't destroy it."

"Following orders surpasses our vow. And I don't have to destroy it to fix it." Harry had his arms crossed tightly in an attempt to hold himself together. He felt dizzy with the storm of emotions fighting within his chest. He'd fall apart in his room, but now he had to hold it together.

"How else will you fix this if not to destroy them?"

"There are other ways," Harry said with a shrug.

"Now who is lying?" Marvolo said mockingly, turning his back on Harry. "I do believe I have done far more research into this topic than you have. I am the greatest Dark Lord of all time, you are a child. I am the one who completed the rituals and did the necessary studying into the effects." Harry felt the need to throw up again at the thought of the ritual being done so many times even as his chest ached. He felt a lump form in his throat and he had to swallow many times to push it down. Stop being emotional, he scolded himself.

"How about you stop being condescending for about five minutes and I'll tell you," Harry sneered and Marvolo turned back to him, only to return his sneer with one of his own. "I am after all a Necromancer, and souls and soul pieces are my domain. So no, I haven't thoroughly researched the topic of creating Horcruxes but I do have a book explaining the process of dealing with soul pieces and a ritual to bind them together again."

"Not possible," Marvolo dismissed immediately. "The ritual requires remorse for one's actions and I feel none. I conquered Death. I persevered where others have failed. I am the first — the only — one to have created multiple. I have become a pioneer regarding ancient magic. I will never regret my strides into what others, and their limited minds, deemed impossible."

Harry wanted to scream at Marvolo's arrogance. "There is another way. It requires a Necromancer, not remorse. So don't worry, you're free from having to feel like a normal fucking human being."

"No."

"No?" Harry repeated in astonishment. "Marvolo, you can't think having Horcruxes is a good thing. It's damaging in so many ways."

"I refuse to die, Harry. I won't. I have too much to accomplish and I won't allow myself such an unnecessary risk such as mortality."

Harry sighed and took a few steps closer. "Everyone dies, Marvolo. It's a fact of life. No one can, or should, live forever."

"It's a weakness. I refuse."

Marvolo was stepping back, shaking his head, his fist clenching and unclenching around the necklace as he backed into the wall behind his desk. Harry had never seen him look so vulnerable and yet so distant. Harry rounded the desk, trying to catch Marvolo's eye but the other man was avoiding eye contact. Finally, when his feet brushed against Marvolo's, Harry reached out and grabbed the mans' hands. His fingertips brushed against the necklace and the shrieking resumed in his head but he didn't drop his hands. Marvolo's cold, dry skin contrasted his own heated palms but Marvolo finally looked him in the eye.

"Marvolo, I am your ally and I am your friend. And I am telling you, begging you, to let me fix this. Let me heal your soul," Harry said, speaking softly, hopefully soothingly. He was taking a chance, a risk of vulnerability, despite knowing the entirety of his feelings were unwelcome, but he'd always been one to act on his gut, on his emotions, and he took risks for those he cared about. If that meant showing his heart more than he felt comfortable with, then he'd do it. Even if it meant this was the last thing he'd ever say to Marvolo because he'd be kicked out soon after. Harry couldn't let himself not say anything. He could see the silver and gold interlocked chains peeking out from under Marvolo's collar. His chest clenched painfully, Marvolo was still wearing Harry's gift. "Yes, eventually you will die, as will I, and as will everyone. But it's not such a terrible thing. I promise. And do you really think that I'll let my friend die when I have the power to prevent it? I won't let you die if I can stop it, Marvolo. I swear it. I don't want to live in this world without you with me, so I'll fight to keep you next to me."

"You say that but you plan on leaving," Marvolo snapped back, attempting to pull his hands free but Harry held firm and the wall at his back prevented Marvolo from escaping.

Frustration and anger flared in his chest and Harry took several deep breaths to keep it contained before speaking again. "Only because you requested it," Harry finally replied. The air felt thick with emotion and nerves and Harry felt like he was at risk of getting lost in the fog permanently if he took a wrong step. He took a breath. "I don't want to leave Marvolo. I want to stay here."

Marvolo stood frozen, his hands still wrapped in Harry's. His cool breath coming out in soft pants tickling the loose strands of Harry's hair. He reminded Harry a bit like a skittish deer, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. "Do you trust me? Do you trust that I will save you from Death? Do you trust me to make your soul whole again?"

Harry felt the blood pounding in his ears as silence fell in the office. The screaming of the necklace was now a distant echo pounding at the recesses of his mind but he was able to block it for the most part as he focused on the present. Focused on the red of Marvolo's eyes and the coolness of his hands. Harry forced himself to remain perfectly still as he waited for Marvolo's answer. He needed Marvolo's cooperation and permission to do the Horcrux binding ritual, but more than that he wanted to have Marvolo's complete trust. He might never have the man's love, but his complete trust would be the next best thing and Harry desperately wanted it.

"Marvolo, do you trust me?" Harry repeated.

"Yes," Marvolo breathed. "Yes, I—" Marvolo didn't seem able to actually say the words. "Yes," he repeated.

Harry released the breath he was holding, feeling a weight lifting off his chest. He nodded and stepped back, slowly dropping his hands to his side. He felt empty no longer holding them but the moment had passed now; plus he didn't want to keep listening to the screaming necklace.

"Good. Okay. Now, let's start over. The ritual is pretty simple. I'll need each of your pieces together in one room and it has to happen on a Lunar Eclipse. Do you know when the next one is?"

Marvolo walked towards his desk, moving deftly around Harry so that he didn't touch him and Harry swallowed against the pain that brought him before shaking himself to focus. Harry was fairly certain that being aware of his feelings just made everything worse.

"The next lunar eclipse is in March, March 14th."

"Great. So that's when we'll do the ritual. You have until then to gather all of your pieces. But some of them have already been returned." Harry walked to the front of the desk again and Marvolo took a seat. The air was brittle with the icy politeness that now coated their words. Harry wanted to scream and break the fragility but it was better than the anger...at least that's what he told himself.

"What do you mean some have been returned? That's not possible."

"Apparently it is. I'm not fully sure how or why though, just something Death mentioned. Let's start at the beginning. What all did you use as containers, I might be able to piece it together from there," Harry said as he moved to sit on his couch. Marvolo pursed his lips and looked back at the necklace in his hand. "Marvolo, you just said you trusted me and I'm going to see them all when I do the ritual. So just tell me what they are."

Marvolo glared at Harry but did speak. "A diary, that was my first one. I made it when I was still in school. Then the Gaunt ring, I made that next. Hufflepuff's Cup, Slytherin's Locket which you have just returned to me, Ravenclaw's Diadem, and finally, Nagini," he answered stiffly. He kept his eyes on the necklace, seemingly content to ignore Harry entirely, and spoke as though discussing the weather.

Harry instinctively looked for the large snake but she wasn't there. He hoped that she and Raaja were together and getting along. He'd decided to leave his new snake at home when he went to Grimmauld Place because he knew the young snake wouldn't appreciate the loud noises the afterparty would bring.

"Okay, well the diary I destroyed in my Second Year. So that's one piece returned," Harry mumbled to himself before an idea struck him. "Tell me about Dumbledore's hand."

"What does that have to —"

"Tell me."

"Demands will—"

"Marvolo," Harry snapped.

"Stop interrupting," Marvolo said through gritted teeth. A few beats of tense silence passed before he continued. "During the summer, Dumbledore started poking around where he didn't belong. He stumbled across my Gaunt ring and fell victim to its curse. Severus postponed the curse from reaching completion temporarily."

"Did he destroy the ring?"

"Certainly not. I hardly believe that you destroyed my diary, especially not at twelve."

"I stabbed it with a Basilisk fang. Ink poured out like blood and your memory version disappeared screaming. Pretty sure I destroyed it," Harry commented dryly.

Marvolo looked stunned at the news before he frowned deep in thought. "Severus mentioned the Sword of Gryffindor being near Dumbledore when he came to the Headmaster's office to heal his hand."

"I used the Sword to stab the Basilisk," Harry said with a shrug. Marvolo stared at him but Harry could tell he wasn't actually looking, his eyes looked too distant. Harry sighed softly, allowing the man's mind to work in peace. At least things seemed to be warming, the brittle tenseness was fading as the discussion continued and Harry felt himself relaxing into the feeling.

"The Sword of Gryffindor is goblin made which means it soaks in all magic that will make it stronger," Marvolo said softly, his brow creasing. "It is a safe assumption that when you stabbed the Basilisk, its venom and blood impregnated the Sword which would be enough to destroy the second Horcrux just as it destroyed the first."

"So the diary and the ring, both destroyed."

"It would seem so…" Marvolo said, still sounding distant. "Why didn't I feel it though?" he questioned softly.

Harry didn't have an answer to that question but he thought Marvolo was taking the discussion of his destroyed pieces of soul very well. Maybe it was because Marvolo was still contemplating it from an academic standpoint and hadn't actually accepted it as personal yet.

"I don't think destroyed is the right word," Harry said with a frown, trying to remember what his Guidebook said. Reading it had made him feel nauseous and so he hadn't read it as many times as he had the others. Getting off the couch he began to pace in front of Marvolo's desk, his thoughts racing. "See, a soul can only move on once it is together and whole, your pieces couldn't actually move on since they were fragments. My theory is that they were all just kind of floating about until your body returned and they pieced together a bit in the new body. That's probably why you're so sane right now. The diary and the ring had your biggest soul fragments and those are the two that got returned."

"Your theory is sound," Marvolo said contemplatively, his eyes on his bookshelf. Harry wondered if his Horcrux-making book was in the room with them; wondered if the book had rested innocently on the shelves this whole time. Harry swallowed and decided he didn't want to know the answer to that.

"But Death said that you had three pieces returned to you. That's only two," Harry said with a frustrated sigh, falling back onto the couch.

"Well, there is the original sliver of soul that was used in the ritual that Wormtail found and nurtured."

"No," Harry muttered. "Death specifically mentioned that three of your methods had been foiled. That piece that was used in the resurrection was what remained from the attack against me, the last un-splintered part of yourself." Harry frowned, he felt the answer too elusive for the moment but he'd definitely look into it and ask Death next time they spoke. "Alright, so that's two that are definitely done. We have the locket and Nagini here. You still need to collect the cup and the diadem. Where are they?"

"Bellatrix's vault and Hogwarts."

"Can you still access Bellatrix's vault with her being dead?"

"Easily, the vault is the Lestrange vault in technicality. Rodolphous or Rabastan can access it. The only dilemma is they are currently wanted criminals and unable to simply walk into Gringotts without inciting mass panic."

"Well, that is something you can figure out in the coming months. Polyjuice or glamours should work. I plan to visit Hogwarts in a month or so, so I'll gather the diadem when I do. Then on March 14th, we can do this ritual and you can be a whole man again."

Marvolo grimaced, he didn't seem thrilled at the prospect but Harry hoped to convince him of the benefits. He had a little over two months to try anyway. Silence fell and Harry swallowed uncomfortably, the previous tension rising as the conversation faded. There hadn't been a silence this tense between them in months. Deciding not to continue intruding, since Marvolo had made his feelings pretty clear earlier, Harry moved for the door.

"Am I allowed to stay?" he asked suddenly. Marvolo had told him to get out but when Harry said he wanted to stay Marvolo hadn't actually retracted his statement. Did he need to move out?

"Pardon?"

"Am I allowed to stay?" Harry repeated thickly, he kept his back to Marvolo, and his eyes trained on the door handle he currently held. "Or do you still wish me to leave?"

The silence stretched and Harry felt his earlier pain grow greater with every passing second. Harry swallowed against the lump growing in his throat and blinked back the wetness in his eyes.

"Stay."

Harry almost missed the whispered word over the sound of blood pounding in his ears. Harry nodded stiffly and left the room.

What was he doing? Harry questioned himself for the hundredth time as he mixed flour, sugar, milk, and eggs in a bowl. It was New Years' Eve. The Malfoy Ball was in about six hours and he planned on celebrating Marvolo's birthday before going. Marvolo wouldn't be attending since the Ball was open for most of the Ministry and other important people that the Malfoy's wanted to invite.

It had been four days. Four days since Harry had found Marvolo's Horcrux. Four days since they fought. Four days since their relationship had dissolved into icy pleasantries and cold politeness. Harry hated it. He hated it fiercely and it burned at his chest every time Marvolo avoided him. They hadn't spent time in the library since Christmas day which seemed like centuries ago.

But Harry wasn't going to let that stop him from doing something for Marvolo's birthday. Plus, it had taken Harry days of begging and pleading with the House Elves to even let him have full access to the kitchens, so he wasn't going to miss the opportunity. The elves had finally agreed Christmas night, Harry thought the presents had finally smoothed things over. Selfishly, Harry hoped this would help repair what he and Marvolo had before because Harry missed it. He missed his best friend, a fact made worse by living in the same house as him.

You are nothing, a child. The words uttered with such coldness echoed in his head as he mixed the ingredients, absently adding some vanilla and cinnamon to the batter. He beat the batter a little harder as the echoes grew louder. Those words had been on a loop in his head for four days now, they haunted his nights and distracted his days. Harry wished he could just forget them. He wished he could move on and put his focus on someone else. He wished he could dedicate his heart to anyone else. There were plenty of others, surely.

Harry sighed as he watched the oven. He sat at the counter, with his fists stacked atop each other and his chin resting on his top fist. His eyes remained on the oven as his thoughts drifted. He knew he was spiraling and he hated it. He hated how Marvolo's dismissal affected him so greatly. Admittedly, it wasn't just Marvolo. If Hermione or Ron had said the same he'd be just as devastated, probably not in the same way, but it would still affect him. How had Marvolo become so important to him? How had he let that happen? How did he get over it now?

Hermione and Luna had commented on how distant he seemed yesterday during dueling practice. Ginny probably would have too but her mother hadn't let her return after she'd stayed the night after the ball. Personally, Harry felt a little grateful. He doubted Ginny would have let up on her persistent questioning. He'd been surprised that Hermione hadn't hounded him more regarding his reserved mood.

There were so many other things that he needed to think about, he couldn't let Marvolo affect all of his plans and goals. In two days he'd be summoning Neville's parents, or at least trying to. And he needed to verify with Dobby and Kreacher that the ritual room at Peverell Manor was prepared. And then tonight at the Ball, he'd need to do some politicking, working on swaying Wizengamot members to support his school, and start putting feelers out for getting more equality for magical creatures. Speaking of magical creatures, he needed to start meeting with them, Death had said he needed to soon. His subjects, Harry thought uncomfortably. He had planned to visit them alongside Marvolo, he wondered how much he would need to adjust those plans given the recent tension. Then there were his Necromancy studies and his regular school studies, plus he planned to learn Hindi too.

Harry sighed, feeling unusually daunted and overwhelmed by all of his plans.

He wished he could talk to his parents, or Sirius… just someone to talk to. He knew Hermione would be thrilled to have him confide in her and so would Ginny and Luna but he didn't want to answer their invasive questions as they sought to get all of the details. Ron and Neville would listen but would be uncomfortable which would make Harry even more uncomfortable. Fred and George would tease him a bit sure but he'd be too embarrassed to talk to the older teenagers. His Guard and the other Slytherins were loyal to Marvolo first, plus he'd only grown close to them in the past few months, so he couldn't talk to them either. He had Remus but Dumbledore had called on him the other day and so they hadn't been able to meet up as they planned. Which was annoying because he had been looking forward to more stories about his parents. Of course, Harry was eager to know Dumbledore's plans but he was still bitter about it. Things had been quiet recently on the Dumbledore front, it made him uneasy. Raaja had noticed his discomfort and tried to ask but Harry wasn't sure how to put his feelings into words that a snake would understand.

The oven dinged and Harry pulled out the cake. As it cooled, he began mixing up some icing. It was a buttercream icing that Harry was fond of and a recipe he'd gotten from Mrs. Weasley. Marvolo had liked her fudge, so hopefully, he would like the icing too. The icing wasn't too difficult to make, so soon he had the cake on a decorative stand and was working on icing it by hand. Mrs. Weasley had said in her letter that magic didn't always work well with dessert decorating.

"What are you doing?"

Harry glanced up, jolting only slightly. He'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts he hadn't heard Marvolo enter the kitchen. The man stood near the door, holding himself back with a straight and stiff posture. Harry swallowed and looked back at the cake poorly and sloppily covered in icing. Internally, he was cursing. He had planned on showering and changing before presenting the cake. Currently, he was still a mess from baking with flour all over his hands, face, and hair.

"Decorating a cake," he replied, bringing out a utensil that Vopsy — Marvolo's chef house-elf — had insisted he use to properly smooth the icing over the cake.

"Why?"

"Your birthday," Harry said softly, still unable to look up at Marvolo. "I know you don't celebrate it and that you wouldn't want a big deal made but I couldn't let the day pass without doing something." Harry could feel the heat radiating off of his ears and neck but he still refused to look up at Marvolo. Marvolo remained silent but Harry saw him step closer out of the corner of his eye.

"You are decorating a cake for...my birthday?"

"I baked it too," Harry said, finally glancing up. Marvolo hovered near the edge of the counter now. There was still the entire counter separating them but Harry was certain this was the closest Marvolo had stood since they'd argued in the office. "I followed Mrs. Weasley's recipe, and I'm pretty sure it'll taste good enough."

"Why would you do this?" Marvolo asked, his words spoken slowly and carefully.

Harry looked back down at the cake. Scooping more icing on top to smooth down the sides. He shrugged. "It's your birthday. Everyone deserves to have something, and I couldn't think of any actual presents."

The silence stretched. Harry studiously focused on making the icing as even and smooth as possible. The silence stretched longer and Harry felt like shouting profanities just to disrupt the stillness. Harry summoned a bowl of cut-up fruit that he had allowed Vopsy to do previously.

"Thank you."

So quiet and soft that Harry almost missed it. His hand stilled in the act of placing a strawberry half on the edge of the cake. Marvolo wasn't looking at him, he was staring at the cake with an unreadable look in his eyes. Harry caught sight of the interlocked silver and gold chains around his neck and Harry felt something warm stirring in his chest. He immediately looked away, thoughts like that would do him no good.

"You're welcome," Harry replied, just as quiet. The quiet prickled his skin and Harry felt the need to scratch at his skin just to make ignite a different sensation. Harry cut the cake into two average pieces, plated them, and offered one to Marvolo.

Marvolo accepted the cake and stared at it. It was as if he had never had a birthday cake before. Maybe he hadn't, Harry considered. His orphanage probably hadn't the funds during a war to spare for some frivolous like cake and the Slytherin Purebloods had probably been too elitist. Harry took a bite. Not bad, he thought with pride.

"It's not poisoned, and it's pretty good. Try it. I won't even sing Happy Birthday, consider that your present."

Marvolo stared at the cake, still not looking at Harry but he did slowly lift a small piece to his mouth. Harry watched him intently, Marvolo was perfectly still as he chewed, but Harry caught the flutter of his eyelashes and smiled. He'd take that reaction and bury it deep in his chest. They ate their slices in silence.

"You are attending the Malfoy's Ball tonight, are you not?" Marvolo finally said.

"Yeah. Should probably get changed soon," Harry said, glancing at the clock on the wall. The mere thought of the mindless pleasantries and political schmoozing was enough to start a minor headache.

"I hope you have a productive evening," Marvolo said stiffly, standing and pushing his empty plate away from him.

Harry nodded, grimacing a bit. "Hopefully it won't be as annoying as my Ball. I can tell you all about it later if you want?" Harry asked, tentatively hopeful. He remembered coming home after his ball and ranting at Marvolo immediately after.

"You may if you wish. I won't prevent you from informing me about new political shiftings."

Harry considered banging his head on the counter. He hated this stiffness with a fiery passion and he couldn't take it any longer. He had to fix this. The cake obviously hadn't worked as he'd hoped. "Look, Marvolo, can we talk or something about..." Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair before just tugging on it. "Can we just….I don't know….return to how things were?"

Marvolo looked up at him, his eyes looked like a duller red than normal and his face was a mask of polite indifference. "Whatever do you mean?"

Harry debated hexing him for a moment, it might actually get a reaction. "This," he gestured between them wildly, "this stiffness and politeness. Can we stop?"

"Would you prefer I insult you?"

Anger and frustration started to build in his gut, Harry clenched his jaw. "No. What I would prefer is to have my friend back."

"Are we friends?" Marvolo asked, his head tilted like he was considering some academic philosophical question.

Harry swallowed down the hurt that question raised. "Yes. At least, I thought we were. I considered us friends."

"That is your prerogative," Marvolo said lightly, he was looking at the space over Harry's shoulder. "Personally, I have never considered the notion of friends to be an entirely useful venture to embark on."

"Of course not, wouldn't want that weakness," Harry sneered viciously, the anger building. He could feel it growing hotter in his gut and beating at his temples. His emotions had always gotten him in trouble and he thought he'd done a valiant effort in curbing them but he couldn't do it forever; he could feel his patience reaching its peak.

Marvolo didn't look at him. He just sat there like a damn statue, unmoving and uncaring. "I refuse to allow weaknesses to tarnish the plans that I've spent decades crafting." You are a child, the memory taunted. "You may be perfectly willing to allow weak sensibilities to cloud your judgment, but I am not."

You are nothing, the words swirled in his head. No more, Harry swore viciously. No more

Harry pushed away from the counter with a snarl. He was a Gryffindor for a reason, no more beating around the bush. Fuck the niceties, he thought bitterly as his anger flared higher, consuming him. "How can you just sit there like you feel nothing? Do you really not care that we've hardly spoken in days? Do you not care that this whole manor feels like a damn ghost town?" he shouted, his voice rising. "Well, not me. I won't stand for this any longer. You may think I'm nothing, but I still have standards. And I refuse to be avoided and forced to walk on glass in my own home." His anger burst completely. "I'm done." His anger turned cold and his tone reflected that. "Tomorrow I'll change residences. You won't have to deal with me and my weak sensibilities any longer." Harry stormed around the counter and towards the door. His anger blurring his vision as he yanked the door open.

"Harry," Marvolo called out. Harry stopped, Marvolo's voice...it almost sounded pleading. You are nothing. Harry shook that ridiculous notion off, Marvolo would never lower himself to plead with anyone.

"We will remain allies through words alone," he said coldly, not looking away from the open hallway, his grip painful on the door handle. "Once Dumbledore is dealt with and your Horcruxes have been reunited, there will be no further reason for us to communicate. You can remain on your own as you've always liked. Me and my nothingness, won't bother you anymore. Goodbye, Marvolo. Happy Birthday."

Harry stumbled out of the Floo into Marvolo's office just before midnight. It was empty and the lights were out. Tears pricked his eyes. He held them back as he stumbled out of the office and towards his room. He'd held it together at the Ball, the distraction of people helped. He'd been off his game though, Tiberius had looked at him in concern a few times when he'd let many an opportunity slip past him, as had Nott, Avery, Malfoy, Amelia, Sylvia, and Augusta. Harry didn't have the energy to deal with their concerned looks though. Not when it took everything he had to not break.

Why had he said that? His temper had always gotten him in trouble. Harry didn't want to leave but maybe this was better. He couldn't very well get over his ridiculous feelings while living in the same house. And Marvolo had made his opinions clear. He didn't care, he never had. Things would change, but Harry would manage. A sob slipped past his lips as he shut his bedroom door behind him, sliding down the door to sit on the floor. A lamp turned on automatically at his presence in the room. Instead of the soft warmth that the lamp usually provided, instead, Harry saw the stretching shadows and darkened corners that the light enhanced.

They were still technically allies, so he felt confident that the Dark would still side with him in the Wizengamot. And after Dumbledore was dealt with, Harry could focus on his school and not ever have to speak to Marvolo again. Marvolo would rule Wizarding Britain and Harry would run a primary school, nothing about those careers indicated interaction. He'd be fine. Another sob slipped out. Harry fisted his hands and pressed them against his head. Get it together, Potter, he scolded himself as tears left tracks down his face.

You are nothing. This was for the best. He had pride after all, and that didn't involve remaining near someone who thought so little of him. Harry felt his resolve hardening in his gut. He couldn't back down. He had to remain firm no matter how much his heart protested.

A knock broke him from his thoughts. Harry blinked. A little dazed, he scrambled to his feet and stared at his door. Maybe he had imagined it? He was tired, he supposed. Balls and politicking were always exhausting and the emotional drain added to that. Another knock, hesitant and uncertain.

Wiping his hands roughly over his wet cheeks, Harry gruffly cleared his throat. He took a deep breath to still his trembling hands. Then took another. Then another. Giving up on that, he opened the door before he lost all nerve. Marvolo stood on the other side, looking like a ghost in the dark hallway. Harry stared and tried not to think about how wrecked he obviously looked. Marvolo stared at him, meeting his eyes briefly. His red eyes taking in his obvious distress before returning to hold his gaze. Not trusting himself to speak, Harry remained silent. If Marvolo wanted to talk then he could bloody well start the conversation.

"Harry," Marvolo began but stopped just as quickly. Harry remained silent, he wasn't in a particularly forgiving mood. He had pride and he would not cave just because Marvolo spoke his name with such timidity. "Harry, I—" Marvolo stopped again. He looked frustrated. Harry crossed his arms and stared. The lamplight behind him in his room cast Marvolo in hard lines, part of his face illuminated bright white before cutting into straight shadows. Marvolo took a breath. "Harry, I do not think you are nothing. I never have. I spoke in anger, thoughtlessly and callously. I—" Marvolo took another breath, his words spoken as though each had been individually weighed and carefully considered before being said. "If you still desire it, then I will not stop you from leaving. However, that is not what I wish."

Resolve, Potter, resolve, he told himself. He closed his eyes and tightened his arms across his chest. But he didn't want to leave. His very being revolted at the thought. But maybe, if things were different...Think rationally, he cautioned himself. But...Ron had gone against him for months during the Tournament and Harry had forgiven him. Hermione and Ron had both listened to Dumbledore after Fourth Year and not written him, but Harry had forgiven them. He could forgive Marvolo for anger-driven words, surely. Marvolo had apologized, after all. Making Harry probably the only person in history to have received two apologies from the man. Harry was well aware of how much this probably cost the man to do and they'd been through a lot already. Almost subconsciously, Harry's gaze flickered to Marvolo's neck and the low lamplight caught the interlocked chains. Marvolo was still wearing Harry's gift.

"Is this your birthday wish?" Harry asked, his voice was rough from his crying minutes ago but it was an olive branch.

"If that will make you stay," Marvolo replied solemnly, his eyes looked borderline desperate, and Harry pushed down the fluttering of his heart.

Harry let the silence stretch a bit longer, his thoughts still turning tumultuously. "On a couple of conditions. I know we let anger get the best of us, but we can't let this happen again. On both our parts, things could have been handled differently. And no more of that tiptoeing, avoidance shit. If either of us has a problem, we address it. And lastly, no more lies. I will not be lied to for whatever reason nor will I lie to you. Deal?"

A moment's hesitation. "Deal." Marvolo offered his hand.

Harry looked at it, vividly reminded of the past summer when he and Marvolo had first struck their original deal. Harry reached out to shake it and offered a smile as the cold, dry, elegant fingers. He tightened his grip before Marvolo could withdraw his hand. Marvolo looked at him with wider eyes, his eyes flicking from their hands to Harrys' face. Harry could see numerous responses forming behind his eyes, countless scenarios spinning in his head.

"One more thing. You have to admit we're friends." Harry was grinning now, elation buoying his frazzled emotions, making his smile probably a little more manic than necessary.

Marvolo just nodded, he tightened his grip on Harry's hand. Not aggressive or dominant, but an acknowledging pressure. Harry wasn't sure how long they would have stood there, hands held in a semblance of a handshake, standing on either side of the open doorframe, staring at each other with Harry grinning and Marvolo with a small uptick at the corners of his lips. The night and shadows shifting from cold and dark into soft and comforting. The moment was broken though when Harry yawned, the events of the day catching up to him.

Marvolo dropped his hand. "Well, you should be off to bed them. I apologize for keeping you. Perhaps in the morning, you would be amenable to telling me the events of the ball?"

Harry smiled wider. "I'd love to. Good night, Marvolo."

"Good night, Harry."

Marvolo stepped back from the door and Harry shut it gently. A smile remained as he shrugged out of his fancy robes and pulled on some sleep pants. Yes, he thought, crawling into bed. He and Marvolo would be just fine. He had to remember how damaged their childhoods had left them, neither would respond to certain situations favorably. Things weren't perfect yet, but this was a step in the right direction. Things already felt better than they had in days. Their friendship would resume and everything would be great.

Friends. It was the best he could hope for and Harry would be satisfied with that. He had to be.