(AN/TW: Me reading this like 'Oh my god what is gonna happen next.' Fairly graphic murder here.)

Ravenous, Witchz

Hey if I change
Would you be mine
You're in my veins
You're in my mind
I can't explain
It's do or die

We're moons away
I'm losing sight
I'll be your slave
Just hurt me right
I'll keep you safe
Just you and I

Cry
I'm
Ravenous
Eyes
Like
Fire
Ravenous

The seventeenth of August brought with it a storm of activity. Death Eaters trailed in and out of the manor all day into the night, the cracks of Apparition like a metronome in the background while Tom paced and Harry gnawed his tongue. Narcissa joined them in their room in the morning and took his measurements with her wand, stating they were for his school robes and his trial set. She told him she'd been guessing his measurements and oddly apologized, though she'd assumed his size just fine.

Cassiopeia joined him at nightfall and cut his hair short with her magic, brought him a set of formal robes and boots -more heavily enchanted than the set he'd worn to Nurmengard- while she complained about the bags under his eyes.

"Narcissa was kind enough to offer you a last meal of sorts," she told him idly as she examined his face, "What do you request?"

"Roast chicken," Harry said without hesitation, ignoring the way she said 'last', "Just roast chicken with… Nothing weird. Mashed potatoes."

"And a bottle of Dom Bénédictine," Tom said, which made her snort.

"Tell her- Thank you," Harry added.

"Yes, Harry," she smirked at him as she backed out of the room.

Tom wiped out half the bottle while Harry picked at the chicken, unable to summon an appetite but still swallowing repeatedly. Cassiopeia had left them alone after she'd brought his request, along with several Calming Draughts and Dreamless sleep. It was the first time he'd been left alone for more than a moment since he'd realized what Tom really was. The pops of Apparition continued late into the night until Harry finally fell into an uneasy sleep.

He sat in front of the great lake, Hogwarts beyond it. The early light glistened gold on the water as he threw tiny pebbles at the surface. He could feel someone beside him and didn't need to look to know that it was Tom.

"I'm scared," Harry said, finding it easier to say in a dream.

"I know."

There was silence for a moment before Tom said, "When the time comes, if you cannot do it, I will."

"I'm not scared of not being able to do it I-"

"I know."

"What if I do it?" He looked at Tom from the corner of his eye and frowned at the way he glowed in the morning light, green eyes turned nearly amber as though he were a saint, sitting there, glittering.

"Then you will do it."

He woke up sometime in the middle of the night and didn't fall back into sleep. It took hours for the sun to rise. Tom had opened the curtains to watch it, heart leaking adrenaline before the sky turned purple. They hadn't been told what time the trial would be taking place, or how he would be getting to the Ministry, or… Anything. They knew very few details.

Tom began to pace at around six, both silent, until Narcissa entered their room and told them it was time to get ready, at what they guessed was close to nine o'clock. She waited for him to change his clothes outside their room, then she re-entered and fixed his hair back with magic. When he looked in the mirror, he thought she'd made him look decidedly Malfoy-esque, knee length jet black robes with gold fastenings, -little snake heads, jaws open wide- almost tight in the middle, flaring at the base, high collar. Black polished boots, well-tailored pants. His hair swept back and staying there. His glasses juxtaposed the image.

She led him to the dining room and nodded sharply at him once she'd given him another look over. He felt the tug in his middle, so he knew the Dark Lord was behind the door as he pushed through it. On the other side though, was a stranger. Dressed similarly to them, black hair, brown eyes, tan, but the only person in the room and so…

'He's coming with us,' Tom thought, both disbelieving, though Harry recovered slowest.

Tom took them closer, eyes averted and bugging from their head once they'd realized who they were looking at and why. Voldemort was standing next to a lit fireplace. He motioned for Harry to stand by it, eyes on the small blaze instead of the Boy Who Lived, who followed suit. It was large enough to Floo, and so Tom assumed that was what they would be doing.

"What are you to say?" He asked, words slurred so minutely only Tom noticed.

"That I don't remember. That I don't know. Anything."

"Good," he threw the green powder into the flames and gripped Harry's upper arm to drag them into it as he spoke, "Ministry of Magic."

As soon as they stepped into the Atrium it was chaos. Cameras flashed all around them, hundreds of people swarmed, asked questions rapid fire, large silver microphones and quick-note quills with accompanying notebooks hovered around his face, and both Tom and the Dark Lord were immediately incensed. Voldemort raised his wand and summoned a shield around them as they moved through the Atrium toward the lifts, silencing the crowd and pushing the media back, some of them stumbling to the ground. Harry could see the Dark Lord's jaw working from the corner of his eye.

Tom moved them. Harry was past being able to walk, the level of adrenaline coursing through them was officially outside his capabilities. In truth it wasn't the trial that was racing his heart, putting his stomach in his throat. Nor was it the sudden blitz of the Atrium, or the thought of looking the headmaster or Hermione in the eyes. It was a part, but it was more the knowledge of what would come after. He wasn't sure how soon after, but the Dark Lord made the impression they would leave immediately after the trial.

Voldemort pulled them along rapidly, hand still on his upper arm as he dragged him into a lift, the spell he'd summoned kept the rabble out.

"As you can see you have been the subject of much speculation," the Dark Lord said as he closed them in and chose their floor. Only then did he let go of Harry's arm and the shield around them.

Both sensed that they weren't supposed to say anything to that. Tom focused on breathing while the lift took them deeper into the Ministry, legs shaking, threatening to buckle at the knees, hanging tight to the handle dangling from the ceiling until the doors opened on the familiar hallway that led to the Wizengamot Court.

Voldemort walked behind him then, moving them forward with intimidation as his legs became leaden and uncooperative. They didn't dare speak, swallowing and blinking repeatedly, rapidly, as they tried to recall the function of feet. When they reached the doors, the Dark Lord pushed the wood open above their heads, forcing them into the cavernous room without a second to breathe.

"The Wizengamot convenes on this, the eighteenth day of August, to determine the guilt of one Harry James Potter in the deaths of Kevin Jacob Entwhistle, Ronald Bilius Weasley, and Demelza Robins,' the voice at the centre podium said, a man he recognized to be Pius Thicknesse, talking as soon as the doors burst inward.

Harry had been sat at the centre of the circular room, insides in his mouth; the Dark Lord next to him with his arms behind his back, pacing a short track. Most of the faces he didn't recognize, but there were some that stood out among the purple robes. Hermione, sitting next to Dumbledore, looking up at the headmaster, whispering, then looking back to Harry as though he were a ghost. In a way he felt like one.

"Represented by Ministry appointed defense: Avrom Dermot," Delores Umbridge said, -dressed in pink but still sporting a silver W on her chest- gesturing at Voldemort, "In the unusual event that a headmaster would testify against a student!"

It was incredibly bizarre, about as bizarre as the rest of it, to be defended by Umbridge.

"Delores. Pius," the Dark Lord said as he gave a sharp nod to the Minister of Magic.

Tom finally locked eyes with Dumbledore, who didn't disappoint him. He let the headmaster into their mind; gave him a sliver of a glimpse, then sent the curse rocketing back through the thread, invisible, but sharp enough to make the man yell, slide from his seat and quickly stand.

"If the Hogwarts headmaster could refrain from interrupting the court," Umbridge said, sickly sweet; eyebrows raised high at Dumbledore, absent smile on her face.

He didn't pay her any mind; eyes wide as he stumbled from the stands, tripping over the Wizengamot members as he went; leaving a confused and distressed Hermione behind. She made to follow him out, but she hadn't been allowed to leave by the Wizengamot members closest to her. Neither Harry's nor the Dark Lord's eyes left Dumbledore as he retreated.

"The evidence?" Voldemort said as the doors swung closed.

"This young witch, Hermione… Granger? Yes, Granger… -Thank you, Delores- says she placed a tracking charm on Potter, and that on the night of the thirteenth of June, the tracking charm was removed by a party or parties unknown. She and the headmaster have put forward that it places Harry Potter in the realm of reasonable doubt in the murder of Ronald Weasley," Thicknesse said, looking at Hermione as he spoke, "However let it be noted by the court that the headmaster made no official statement."

Tom had watched Hermione since the doors had closed, and she'd long since ducked her head.

"I- I- Yes, I put the tracking charm on him- he was behaving strangely… And I thought-"

"Is unwarranted surveillance by an unlicensed third party legal, Pius?" Umbridge asked innocently.

"Not as of early July, Delores," Thicknesse said, shuffling paperwork on the podium.

"Ah, a shame. Maybe we'll see you next time, Miss Granger," Umbridge smiled at her. Hermione shrank in her seat, mouth open, shaking her head.

"In the cases of Demelza Robins and Kevin Entwhistle, Harry Potter is believed to be the originator of an unknown curse that caused the two students to enter cardiac arrest. What say he?" Thicknesse said, looking from the Dark Lord to Harry.

"I do not recall the events of the thirteenth or the fourteenth of June," Tom said mechanically, while the Boy Who Lived's heart hammered like a drum, shaking his vision.

"Well, silly me… I mean, correct me of course Pius, if I'm wrong, but does it not sound as though the boy was under the Imperius Curse? Perhaps even Obliviated?" Umbridge said, eyes wide, toad smile wider.

"It does indeed, Delores," Voldemort said, speaking over Thicknesse, "And so I believe we find ourselves in an easy position?"

"Those in favour of dropping all charges against Harry James Potter, show hands," Thicknesse said.

The majority vote cleared his name.

'Just like that?' Harry asked in disbelief, though Tom didn't answer him.

The Dark Lord said nothing more, yanked him out of the chair by the back of his robes and stumbled him out the door while Hermione shouted after him. Voldemort was already touching his wand to the Dark Mark on his arm as they made their way down the empty corridor -or where it would have been, had he not been under the effects of Polyjuice- while he raced Harry into the elevator.

"What did you do?" He hissed as the doors closed, "Dumbledore?" He continued when Harry looked blank.

"…He tried Legilimency…" Tom said, not mentioning the part where he'd let him in, for a fraction of a second.

'You don't think he saw anything about… Do you?' Harry asked.

'No. But- hurting him might not have been wise, given- circumstances.'

They exited on a floor Harry didn't recognize, and Voldemort dragged him down the corridor until they came to an office with the name 'Thorfinn Rowle' on the door.

He crashed them into the unlocked room, activated the Floo in the already lit fireplace, then stepped them into it, spitting, "Malfoy Manor."

They re-entered the dining room that the Dark Lord usually occupied, several items had been laid on the table in their absence: Harry's wand, the Marauder's map, the invisibility cloak, and a set of robes. The Dark Lord put the robes on, hood up, summoning a mask. He gestured to the objects on the table and Harry snatched them up, needing no further direction.

"You will not cast Liquida Tenebris without warning," the Dark Lord growled, "Put on the cloak. Do not fall behind."

Harry could hear the distant cracks of Apparition, so prolific it reminded him strangely of popcorn at the height of popping. He did as he was told, arms tingling, numb. Narcissa entered, Nagini at her feet. The great snake made her way to the Dark Lord, and he knelt for her to drape over his shoulders. Narcissa nodded sharply at him, and Voldemort followed her out, Tom carrying Harry not far behind, invisible.

"You will send word once the attack on the wards has begun," the Dark Lord told the Malfoy Matriarch.

She pulled her hood up, summoning her own skull-like mask as she agreed, pushing the doors of the entry hall open. Behind them, spilling out into the lawn; as far as the gate and beyond it still; hundreds of Death Eaters, masked, wands raised and glowing. Harry thought dumbly that there might have been a thousand of them. The Dark Lord moved to stand before them, while Harry hesitated a few metres away, eyes locked on Voldemort as he began to speak, wand to his throat.

"Welcome, loyal followers. Today, we make history. Together, we take ground. You know your roles. I bid you play them. Time is of the essence; expect resistance. Go," the Dark Lord had amplified his voice, and as his command those outside the gate began to Disapparate, cracks louder and louder until the grounds were empty, mere moments later. Nagini watched the space where Harry was standing, head raised on Voldemort's shoulder.

'I don't want to make history,' Harry thought, shock seeping in, whiplash from being rushed through the Ministry, from seeing Dumbledore, Hermione, and the hundreds of Death Eaters he'd just witnessed Disapparate, heading for the school.

'Yes, you do, Harry,' Tom didn't sound as shell-shocked as Harry did, by a large margin.

The Dark Lord moved then -making no indication that Harry should follow- out the door toward the gate. Tom raced after him, fear making their breath come short, though Tom was near rabid over the top of it. Their arms and legs shook as they struggled to keep pace. Once outside the wards of the Malfoy Manor, Voldemort grabbed Harry as though he could see him and Disapparated, reappearing with a pop, to Harry's shock, in Borgin and Burkes.

Voldemort alternated between standing perfectly still and pacing a small line, facing away from the Boy Who Lived. Harry kept swallowing, but the lump in his throat wouldn't let him breathe.

'Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul.'

'Tom I'm genuinely going to vomit.'

'In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance my head is bloody, but unbowed.'

A raven Patronus swooped into the back of the store, came to land on the railing of the stairs that lead to the front of the shop, and cawed three times before it vanished.

"In," the Dark Lord snapped, and Tom obeyed, entering the cabinet, and quickly exiting, stepping back for Voldemort and Nagini once inside the Room of Requirement.

They followed immediately after, the Maledictus sliding off the Dark Lord's shoulders and transforming, writhing at Harry's feet. Tom took off the cloak, and Nagini touched Harry's cheek with a small, sad smile once she had come to stand, before the Dark Lord took her attention.

"Go. Find it. Find us, when it is time," he hissed at her, and she nodded then sprinted, barefoot, sapphire blue dress whipping after her, into the towering piles of junk.

"Move," Voldemort said to Harry, who was having trouble, once again, reconciling events with reality.

'I can't do this.'

His legs didn't move, and Tom didn't force them, cloak in one hand, wand in the other, frozen.

"I said move."

Harry's heart was beating so hard and fast that he was concerned he might pass out. Or die.

"Wait," Tom said, holding a hand up.

Harry had braced himself on his knee to stop from toppling over as he struggled to breathe.

'I can't. Tom. I can't.'

"I will not wait," Voldemort raised his wand, "You will move."

Tom snapped upright, blackness crackling from both hands; writhing and biting in the direction of the Dark Lord, "I. Said. Wait."

They paused, both ramrod straight; air heavy with energy as they sized each other up, while the curse went some strange way in soothing Harry's nerves; made his vision sharper, heightened the hunger and pushed out the terror.

'Beyond this place of wrath and tears looms but the horror of the shade, and yet the menace of the years finds and shall find me unafraid,' he continued as though there had been no interruption.

'It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul,' Tom didn't release the curse, instead holding it close on Harry's left arm like a pacifier while he threw the cloak back over them, glaring daggers at the Dark Lord, 'Remember what I said. I will do it.'

'That's not… The problem.'

Harry took the map from the inner pocket of their robes and found that the headmaster was on the grounds, in the main entrance courtyard with the rest of the faculty. They could feel that the Dark Lord was following them out of the Room of Requirement as they jogged into the corridor, the pull in his middle told them exactly where he was.

'…I know.'

Once outside the room, it was easier to hear the dull, echoing, cracking booms above their heads. The wards, under pressure. Harry's eyes were on the map while Tom moved their legs. No one was in the corridors, appearing to be expecting the attack to be coming from outside the school; all souls in the courtyard strengthening the wards and preparing to fight.

'How… How can we even be sure he holds up his end of the bargain?'

'He will.'

Harry felt that knowledge made it worse and easier all at once. He was actively hyperventilating by the time he reached the doors by the Great Hall, heart in his throat while Tom tucked the map back in their robes, bared their teeth, growling, moving foot to foot, wand clenched tight enough in his fist to draw blood, darkness still ripping shreds from his non-dominant hand. He could taste the curse in his mouth, in the back of his throat. It wore the fear thin, transmuted to a ravenous rage that was so thoroughly combined with Tom's fury that there was no telling them apart.

"Are you prepared?" The Dark Lord hissed; wand raised at the towering doors while the wards groaned like shattering ice sheets above.

"Yes."

Voldemort blasted the doors outwards and was shielding them instantly, though it took a fraction of a second longer for anyone to turn and notice. Dumbledore stood at the centre of the faculty, wand raised with the rest of them, attempting to repair the near-destroyed wards. Delaying the inevitable. Fractures splintered across the great dome, sparks raining down under the onslaught of curses from the outside, crumbling at the numerous points of impact. An unusual pause hung in the air while the staff of Hogwarts tried to understand what appeared to be a single Death Eater standing in the entrance.

They did not warn the Dark Lord they were casting as Tom dropped the cloak in the same instant he exploded darkness into the sunlit courtyard like a bomb; every atom forcing it out with a white hot rage, reaching the wards far overhead and pushing from within. They corrected and let the curse come only from their left hand, held high to form a dome in which there was no blackness, lit inside by the sporadic lightning of Nagini's magic. Voldemort had shielded himself well enough and stood inside the eye, buckled over momentarily, while Harry used the curse to feel for the headmaster's location and made a beeline for him.

Dumbledore had shielded himself as well, and when Harry found him, he half lowered his wand in disbelief, already drained by the weight of Liquida Tenebris. Panting, braced. The Dark Lord and Tom both used that moment to disarm him, sending his wand flying into the hurricane still spewing from Harry's spare arm. Dumbledore readjusted, raising his hand instead, pulling up a shield and readying his stance once again while his wide eyes flicked between Harry and Voldemort, who had vanished his mask and come to stand next to the Boy Who Lived, silent, jaw tight.

"Harry… Harry- I understand the… Lure- of the darker arts-"

"THE LURE? THE LURE?!" Harry screamed it, and then they both laughed with one throat, no humour; just mania, "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE? TELL ME. DO YOU?"

"Harry-"

"DO. NOT. SPEAK. TO ME!"

Harry had dropped his wand at his feet, and he wasn't sure who was speaking with his mouth anymore, but he knew it was him who summoned the curse with his right hand and picked the headmaster up off the ground, striking like a cobra as he silenced him effectively; shattered his shield like thin glass.

The headmaster's mouth was open wide, but no sound escaped, eyes rolled back in his head as Harry crushed him with it; pouring the fury that had flourished in him for months with no means of release into the jagged tendrils. He felt the wards crack and rupture above them, while both Tom and the Dark Lord watched Harry.

His chest hurt as it heaved, heart aching as he sucked in breaths manually, each cell lit with agony and bliss while he howled; screamed; wild with rage, and squeezed; blackness tearing at the headmaster's flesh, puncturing, until there was a violent, sickening crunch, a gasping, rattling wheeze.

Tom dropped the curse and the headmaster immediately, stumbling, while the Boy Who Lived vomited profusely, rasping for air, folded in half. The Dark Lord threw the Invisibility cloak over Harry's head as he choked, eyes bulging. He felt Nagini's magic seep into the back of his skull and they leaned into it instinctively, gratefully, as she turned their minds to mush and guided them away from the bodies in the courtyard, the distant, approaching Death Eaters, and from Voldemort, who raised his wand to the sky and shouted:

"Morsmorde!"

(AN: Weird first date but okay. Tom recites Invictus, by William Ernest Henley.)