Chapter 135

Voldemort watched with satisfaction as the younger Death Eaters practiced their crucios on their newest guest, Igor Karkaroff. Igor had hidden fairly well on a channel island, trying to hide among the muggles in a rented cottage. He'd finally slipped up trying to sneak into a wizarding area to buy some newspapers. He was rotten at glamours and was a bit distinctive in appearance.

Brutus Flint, newly graduated from Durmstrang, had captured Igor along with the Carrows. Igor had little in the way of information and he'd given it all up within minutes, trying to appease Voldemort. The Dark Lord smirked. Well, if Igor survived being used for practice for his trainees perhaps Voldemort would let him live.

Voldemort managed an indulgent smile at the proudly beaming Brutus while Igor shrieked in agony. "Well done, Brutus." He pulled the boy away from the others, so another trainee could have a go. "Have you heard anything from your cousins that live here in Britain?"

Brutus frowned sullenly. "No, all my owls come back unopened. Uncle Regis and Cousin Cronos are the only two that live here that answered your call. Everyone else is silent."

Voldemort nodded, pretending unconcern. Regis and Cronos had sided with him in the first war and had returned. There were three Flints in Azkaban. The family had mostly supported him, both with sons and daughters to follow him as well as financially at that time. They were now rather conspicuous by their absence. They were not alone in that, though. Many 'dark families' were either placing their homes under fidelus or going into hiding.

Rumor had it that Snape and Malfoy had a number of safe houses available for those on the run from Voldemort. There were whispers that the safe houses had once belonged to Voldemort. Voldemort fumed a bit. He had noticed that more than half of all his hideouts were missing along with their contents. Most of the hideouts left were in France and Italy.

Voldemort waved Brutus off and went into the makeshift prison cells that had once been dog runs. They had been magically expanded to hold all the muggles and blood traitors they caught. True, it was mostly muggles since magical people were taking the ministries advice in how to protect themselves from 'dark wizards' even if the ministry wasn't quite admitting he'd returned.

Voldemort eyed the muggles in the pens. They mostly seemed angry and confused, unwilling to believe what their eyes were seeing. They came up with the most extraordinary explanations for what the wizards and witches did. Lasers, holograms, electromagnets. Most of the muggles simply would not believe that magic existed until they were almost dead from hexes. Apparently there was some muggle 'magician' named Copperfield that he had to thank for their skepticism.

Voldemort yanked a sneering man in an expensive business suit out of a pen with an invisible rope around his neck. The missing hideouts had inevitably reminded him of his missing money and his thieving heir. The muggles eyes reflected fear and the sneer had disappeared.

Voldemort had met so many like this arrogant robber baron in a business suit; in the forties they had visited the Orphanage to donate castoffs and mouth meaningless words of support to Mrs Cole.

In the fifties they had swarmed Europe to pick over the post – war carcass of Europe and carve up what was left for themselves. The sixties and seventies had been particularly full of well-dressed hypocrites, of course. The three piece suits had been 'concerned' over the growing pollution but not enough to do more than hide toxic waste and kill or coerce whistleblowers.

In the eighties he'd been drifting as a wraith, but he'd noticed the big corporations cutting corners and sending their major factories to whoever was cheapest even if they were sweat shops or slave labor.

Now the nineties were here and no one was bothering to pretend they weren't killing the planet. Still, big business was fawned on and the muggle in front of him that was gasping for air was a merely one ant in the giant anthill of planet killers, but Voldemort was willing to kill him painfully anyway.

Not to mention he needed to vent his anger while he plotted getting his hands on Tom Jr. and Harry Potter.

Ah, his heir, Tom. How he'd cursed and vowed to kill him in ways that would be spoken of in awed terror for centuries when he had found his Gringotts vault had been raided and a single knut left. A few days later his temper had subsided enough to stop hexing minions and screaming at even mild provocations. A feeling of faint pride had started to creep in when he thought of the sheer nerve it would have taken to steal from the Dark Lord, even if he was the Dark Lord's son.

Voldemort aimed a crucio at the now weeping muggle and listened to the shrieking with a pleased smile.

Voldemort was becoming more determined to eventually rein in his heir and turn him into his most ardent Death Eater. He didn't really need an heir as such, since he intended to live forever, but it still pleased his ego to have a son. Especially since Tom Jr was proving to be a worthy opponent. Perhaps he could come up with another title for Tom Jr, indicating a high position in the ranks, but of course still less than his own.

The muggle was sobbing and pleading hoarsely after a few more rounds of hexing with a diffindo and a burning hex or two. The man's stylish, bespoke suit was now torn and burned, ripped in places and stained with his own blood. The sneer was now replaced with looks of terror and disbelief.

"Don't be silly, you stupid cockroach." Voldemort snickered. "Magic doesn't exist; therefore you could not have been injured by it." The muggle looked even more confused and frightened, just as he should when face down in front of a wizard.

Voldemort waved his wand negligently, throwing the muggle forcefully against the gate of the pen, opening it with the impact of the body and dumping the muggle back onto his face on the floor of the pen.

The anxious whispers of the other muggles followed him out the door as he made his way up into Cygnus and Druella Black's Manor. Narcissa's parents were still playing host to his war council. Cygnus was living in the past more and more, remembering when he had been one of Voldemort's inner circle during the first war.

Narcissa watched Voldemort enter the 'study / library' with a certain amount of trepidation. Madame Zabini had finally started to bore Voldemort and she had been allowed to move back to her penthouse in a wizarding area of London. She could support Voldemort's ideals from there without having to sleep with a Dark Lord that still had a faintly greenish cast to his skin.

Narcissa was now enduring the threat of replacing Madame Zabini in his bed. Certainly the muggle women that the Dark Lord raped and killed would not satisfy his ego for long. Narcissa would not mind warming his bed if there was anything in it for her, but his bedmates never lasted long and it was unlikely that he would share his throne with a 'Dark Lady'. Therefore reigning as his mistress would only bring her sneers and derision and no power just as it had Madame Zabini.

Narcissa hoped to throw someone in Voldemort's path that would be thrilled to warm his bed, namely her sister Bellatrix. To do that, she would have to very carefully suggest raiding Azkaban.

Narcissa eased into the study and waited with her head down, trying to look subservient.

"Madame Black?" Voldemort asked, feeling a little curious. Narcissa had been playing cat and mouse with him lately, with her as the mouse. Now she had sought him out. This should be interesting.

"My Lord, I was wondering if you thought it would be a good time to release your faithful followers from Azkaban?" Narcissa asked as humbly as she knew how. "The dementors are decimated, and perhaps they will not be expecting an attack at present?"

Voldemort leaned back; he'd been intending to wait on attacking Azkaban, at least until the benefit of the Ministry denying his return had worn off. Now, though, Rufus was on the brink of visiting the prison, himself, as his court-martial was going very badly. The Ministry was putting safeguards in place at an alarming rate, even though they were not saying that the dark wizard they were preparing for was Voldemort.

Pretending to not have returned was now really just an annoyance factor. The public had not turned on Potter or Dumbledore even if they were not willing to admit Voldemort was back. The public was slowly coming to the conclusion that Voldemort was back all on their own, even if it wasn't spoken of out loud.

Yes, with his lack of enthusiastic Death Eaters - at least a lack of experienced Death Eaters, retrieving his loyal followers from Azkaban would be a good idea. He had several plans in play for acquiring that damn prophecy and ridding himself of 'the boy who lived'.

However, Harry Potter's death was going to be memorable. After all, his death would be the source of Voldemort's final Horcrux that would be housed in Nagini.

"Yes, I believe you are right. Send a message that there will be a meeting tonight for my inner circle." Voldemort smirked as Narcissa bowed with a relieved look and left.

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The fifth years crowded into the DADA classroom and took their places with resignation. The pink horror had decided that she needed all four houses at once to teach and had demanded a larger, amphitheater – style classroom.

Hermione had sneered that since she wasn't allowing much spell casting in class why shouldn't she? "Besides, she obviously loves a large, captive audience to bore into a collective coma."

The fifth years, even the ones that didn't like 'the know – it – all', gaped at her in astonishment. Granger rarely said anything harsh or critical about a teacher.

Dean sneered as well, "She really just wants more time during the day to sneak around the castle. She's looking for something." The others looked at each other. What could she be looking for?

It was only a few days before the Christmas break and the entire school had a restless air of anticipation. Umbridge had barely called the large class to order with her annoying "HemHem", when the door opened once again.

In trooped Remus and a beaming Gilderoy Lockhart, followed by Tom, who was hovering several boxes of books behind him. Dolores twisted her lips and sniffed in disdain at the happily smiling werewolf.

Gilderoy grinned as well and addressed the gawking students. "Several alumni of Hogwarts wish to gift all the students currently at school with books. The books will be given to each student as a Christmas present."

The students cheered happily, hoping they weren't more textbooks.

Tom smirked. It was he, Severus, Lucius and Sirius that had arranged the hasty printing of the newest book on werewolves that Lockhart and Remus had written together. The book was a skillful weaving of 'Lockhart's adventures' and stories of the lives of many of the werewolves he had met.

Many of the stories were sad tales of how they had been bitten and then lost their families and fortunes and any hope of a future. There were also tales of life in the colonies in Europe where the werewolves lived in relative peace.

The book ended with stories of how the lives of the British werewolves were slowly being bettered and how the numbers of new werewolves had fallen to almost none. It was skillful propaganda, Remus had been forced to admit, but they were also educational tales and amusing as well.

They had also commissioned a special printing of the book about the Chamber of Secrets to pair with the werewolf book, to make the 'present' a bit more attractive and the governors more willing to have the school-day so interrupted by the gift – giving.

Remus started to explain the werewolf book and answered questions regarding the packs while an outraged Dolores looked on. She would be correcting the notion that werewolves were more than bestial fiends as soon as the trio of upstarts left.

She watched helplessly while Gilderoy waved his wand to make the books pass themselves out to the students and went around signing copies whether the new owners really wanted his autograph or not.

Tom took advantage of the many distractions that Remus had arranged. Between his impromptu lecture on werewolves, Gilderoy and the books, there was no one left to watch him. He already had his wand out, as he'd been hovering the boxes, so he casually waved some nonverbal spells to look for a certain locket. He was sure that it was on the flamingo colored professor, but the spells turned up empty.

Tom edged a little closer, looking for personal wards on her clothing that might be masking the locket. No, there did not seem to be any. Tom frowned, they'd hoped to avoid searching her rooms, but the pair of authors could keep her busy during the next class as well so Tom could break into her office.

Tom noticed then that a familiar and very aggravating itching had started. Yes, the horcrux must be close to make him this uncomfortable. He looked around as casually as possible and sure enough, there it was, lying on her desk next to her planner and lecture notes.

Tom stepped back a bit and cast disillusionment charm over the locket and carefully accioed it so it landed in his pocket. It made him itch even more, but he could tolerate it to get the locket safely away.

Tom strolled up beside Remus and whispered, "I've got it."

Remus sighed in relief. Severus had left him to plan this all out so that Severus could concentrate on finishing up the potion for Harry. Remus had been very nervous that he would make a hash of it and then he'd have to endure endless remarks regarding Gryffindor stupidity and likely he would get more of the 'brain – sharpening' exercise books that Severus had found at some muggle bookstore. Remus and Sirius had gotten a stack of them last Christmas and Sirius still grumbled about it.

Lockhart dragged himself away from the class and rushed to the Charms classroom with Tom and Remus in tow.

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Harry watched with savage satisfaction as Umbridge slowly turned purple in outrage before the three finally left. He supposed his excessive feeling of gratification at Umbridge's unhappiness should be a little concerning.

He'd only been able to control his temper lately by turning into the Osprey every evening. The Bird helped him shove away the increasingly out of control anger he seemed to feel so much of the time. Simple Occlumency and clearing his mind only helped a little for a short time.

The Osprey, though, seemed to shut down the source of his rage and brought peace back. Once back to his human form the anger would slowly build back up, but he had at least a day or two of relative calm before it got overwhelming again.

He'd been lucky to find this way to block. Draco had suggested flying and the relief from the rage when he had transformed had been a welcome surprise.

He knew he should be telling his father just how difficult things were getting, but he hoped to last until the Christmas break. His father was close to the solution for the Dementor potion, as they had taken to calling Harry's possible cure. Harry still worried about Severus' condition, both mentally and physically. He seemed mostly recovered, but Harry had come too close to losing Severus to want to place more stress on him.

Once the three anarchists left, Dolores immediately set off on a lecture about how werewolves were nothing more than beasts and not to be trusted in any capacity. The students were now used to not interrupting her lectures no matter how much they might want to disagree or object. Mostly she stuck to lecturing about low – level spells that would be useless in a fight, but now and then she would rant about those she disliked, and they just had to endure the rants.

Hermione, Mafalda and Draco fumed, but they knew that arguing was a waste of time and they were tired of losing points by trying to point out flaws in her arguments. Most others had ceased caring what the magenta colored moron said.

Dolores watched the troublemakers with satisfaction. She mistakenly thought that if they were not arguing with her in class, that they weren't immediately tearing apart her lectures later.

Harry Potter, though, was more concerning. He tended to stare at her with a malevolent smirk, the eerie green eyes fixed on her with a rather intent look that she suspected most predators aimed at their prey. She refused to be intimidated, though.

She dismissed the class and went to her desk and then frowned. Where was the locket? She searched the desktop quickly and glanced up at the departing students. She knew someone had taken it, and she now valued that locket rather highly. She narrowed her eyes at Harry Potter. He may or may not have taken it, but she intended to punish his for it anyway. Pius had sent her here on their Lord's orders to work on Potter, get him in trouble if possible. Intimidate him if that could be done.

Of course Harry Potter was a Slytherin and wasn't going to make any of it easy for her. When called on he gave brief answers and blandly smiled when she nit-picked over his responses and tried to make out that he was an idiot.

Oh, he sneered when he could get away with it and she knew his temper was getting shorter every day, if rumors were correct.

"Harry Potter!" Dolores said sharply, making him halt before he could escape the room. She waved him down to her desk and he took an insolently long time getting there. When he stood before her she tapped her wand in her palm and glared at him.

"You have stolen my locket, Potter." She watched his look of faint surprise, and then an odd look of satisfaction. He hadn't taken the locket, of course, but he knew who did. "I expect it returned immediately and an apology … public apology in front of everyone in the great hall."

She was quite sure he would refuse and sure enough Potter erupted into angry protests. "I didn't take any locket from anyone." Harry nearly shouted, his anger flaring up immediately. He had immediately realized that Umbridge must have had the horcrux locket they were looking for and Remus and Tom must have been here to take it.

Harry was a bit annoyed that he'd not been warned ahead of time, but owls could be intercepted and there must not have been much time. Not to mention he wasn't carrying the crystal with him as much. Tom would have felt his increasing turmoil and likely would have been alarmed. Harry was determined to get through the next few days no matter what.

"And now you are lying as well, Mr Potter." Dolores smiled her rather smug, self-satisfied smile. "Detention, Mr Potter, this afternoon in my office." She eyed his angry look. "You will be writing lines for me." Pius had sent her some blood quills to use on if things were not progressing well. Their Lord said that he wanted Potter pushed and pushed hard. Well, she only had a few days before Potter would escape back to the Dragon reserve.

Harry dragged his anger back with effort, he needed to go flying and soon. He managed to nod in answer and dragged himself around to leave before saying anything further and stalked out. If only he had a cape to swirl to show his displeasure the way his dad always had.

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Voldemort tried to clear his mind so he could explore the link between himself and Harry Potter again. Since his 'renewal' he found it rather difficult. Concentration was something he now had to strive for and while legilimancy was still easy, Occlumency was another matter. To explore the link he had to keep his own mind separate from Potter's or risk getting lost in Potter's memories. He'd eventually get free, as the Legilimancy spell would wear off after a time and return him to his own body, but he'd only have viewed the one memory.

Severus had obviously been teaching the boy Occlumency. His barriers were not bad, though Voldemort could have breached them with only a little effort. The problem was, Potter would notice the intrusion and Voldemort did not want Potter to realize that the intrusion was deliberate. He wanted Potter to think that he was eavesdropping on Voldemort, and that the Dark Lord was unaware of the link.

For the past few nights he'd been pushing thoughts of the prophecy sphere at the boy, urging the thought that it was very important. He hoped to spur the boy's curiosity to find out what it was. With luck he would either overhear the prophecy being told to Potter or the little idiot might run off and get it, himself.

A surge of anger surprised Voldemort, as it was not coming from himself.

It was coming from the boy.

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Harry arrived to his detention with Umbridge resentfully. He'd not had time to fly or even try to clear his mind further. Draco left him at the door, looking uneasy, but Harry managed a rueful smile for him and entered into a hell wallpapered with kitten plates and presided over by a demoness in pink cardigan.

"Well, have you brought the necklace you stole?" Dolores looked at Harry expectantly.

"I didn't steal anything from you." Harry gritted out.

"A lie." Dolores pronounced grimly, but with satisfaction. "You are in the habit of lying. Just as your friends persistently lie about those horrid dark creatures and half-breeds. Trying to shove their way into places they don't belong."

Harry sat warily at the desk she pointed to. "You will write lines with the quill I've provided." She smiled spitefully. "You will write 'I must not tell lies' until I feel you have learned your lesson." Harry looked at the quill doubtfully and looked around for an inkpot. "It will provide its own ink, Mr Potter."

Now he truly was nervous. There was something not quite right. He put the quill to the parchment and started to write when a burning pain started on the back of his left hand. The sentence he was writing appeared there, looking reddened and angry, like a scratch.

Harry looked up at the simpering witch incredulously. "Keep going, Mr Potter. You will be punished as you deserve."

Dumbfounded, Harry did another line, grimacing at the pain while he thought swiftly. There was no way this sort of punishment was allowed. The worst detentions only involved cleaning toilets the muggle way. For all that Filch muttered about chains and whips; they hadn't actually been used for centuries.

Harry bitterly wondered if Dumbledore was testing him, again. The Headmaster had been avoiding him and wouldn't even look at him, lately. Was he at odds with Severus again over him? He knew that the Headmaster worried about his scar and the Horcrux in it.

Killing him with lines scratched into his hand was a rather slow way to kill him, though. Unless it was poisoned. No, this was something cooked up by Dolores because she was still a Scrimgeour supporter, no doubt. Now that Rufus was doing a few years in Azkaban, anyone who had supported him was rather silent, but they might try for revenge. Umbridge had been his secretary, after all and had tried to get him taken from Severus.

His anger started burning again, and he slowed his writing while he considered his options.

His father certainly wouldn't allow this, nor would Sirius, Remus, Lucius or his brother Tom. Rosmerta, Aunt Tuney and Dora would be here with Lucius' kennel of lawyers. The thought of the people he knew would support him bolstered his flagging spirits.

Harry stood abruptly and gripped the quill so hard he could feel it crack a bit. "I think I need to speak to my Head of House or Dumbledore about this detention." Harry said and started walking to the door.

Alarmed, Dolores tried to head him off. "You will finish your lines, Mr Potter." She yelped. She tried to hex the door closed, but Harry was already through it and marching toward Dumbledore's office. Sinistra's tower was just too far away.

Harry heard Umbridge cast a stupefy at him and he dropped to the floor to avoid it, rolling and coming to his feet with his wand in his hand. He sent a petrificus at her, though part of his brain was jumping up and down, yelling 'don't curse her, don't curse her'.

This seemed to spur Dolores on and she sent spell after spell at Harry, who settled mostly for shielding against her while backing away to the gargoyle in front of the stairs to Dumbledore's office. Albus had been alerted to the duel occurring and had raced to the bottom of the stairs in time to meet them. He grabbed Harry by the back of his robes and thrust him behind him and leveled his own wand at the witch.

"What is going on here?" Albus thundered.

"He attacked me, Headmaster!" Dolores screeched. None of this was going according to plan. Harry was supposed to just take the punishment. But, perhaps, since he was a Slytherin and not a Gryffindor she should not have been so hopeful.

"Now who is telling lies, Professor?" Harry shot back at her.

Albus gestured both of them up to his office, furious at the scene that was drawing a crowd of gawkers. He'd hoped Harry would hold it together a bit longer.

Minerva was waiting in the office, watching Harry enter with dread. To their dismay Umbridge started in on a list of wrongdoing by Harry that was ridiculous. Stealing? Very unlikely. Hexing her? Well, from the rage in Harry's eyes, maybe that had happened.

She at last wound down and Harry waved the quill at Minerva. "I didn't steal any bloody locket, and she had me writing lines with that quill and it was gouging the sentence into my hand." Harry held his hand up, showing the words scratched into his hand.

Albus and Minerva started at the now nervous Dolores. "It is not illegal. There is nothing in the school charter saying it can't be used in detentions."

"That because no one would expect a blood quill used to sign very important contracts to be bent to this sort of use." Minerva came close to shouting, herself.

"You may leave, Dolores, and consider yourself on academic suspension until the board of governors can decide your fate." Albus said frostily.

Umbridge left hastily to make a few firecalls, hoping to salvage things. Minerva glanced at Harry's still furious face and went to the floo to call Severus.

"Why didn't you just sack her?" Harry shouted, "What if she manages to convince them to keep her?" But the Headmaster just stood with his head turned away from him.

Severus stepped through the floo in time to hear Harry scream, "Look at me! Why won't you look at me?" More alarming was the glint of red in his son's eyes.

"Harry." Severus said, drawing the boy's attention. The sight of his father was enough to calm some part of him and he felt much of his anger inexplicably disappear.

"What's happening to me?" Harry asked plaintively, and then ran to be enfolded into Severus' protective arms.

Albus looked at Severus over Harry's head that was buried in Severus' chest. "It's been destroyed." Severus said flatly. Albus nodded, he'd known that the trio that was delivering books was really there to steal the locket that Dolores was now missing.

"We can wait no longer, Severus. It must be done." Albus looked rather determined.

Severus nodded. "I've finished the potion, although Lin is not sure that the plants we are using are exactly like the ones in the formula. The plants used centuries ago are extinct in the wild and the ones that are from greenhouses are not necessarily exactly like them."

Severus pulled Harry toward the floo. "I'm taking you home, Harry."

Harry nearly sobbed in relief and followed him through to Dragonsrest.

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Tom waited for Harry and Severus to come down for breakfast the next day. He felt wonderful. The last available piece of Voldemort's Horcruxes was now cleansed and had been absorbed by him.

The partial horcrux in Harry's scar would be dealt with and then Voldemort could be defeated. There was finally an end in sight.

Harry was looking a little ragged, but the first thing they had done was insist he start carrying the Danburite crystal with him so they could send reassurance and calm to him to combat the anger Harry seemed to be overwhelmed by.

Harry sighed as Tinker popped a full English breakfast in front of him. He did feel hungry, for once. He'd finally gotten some sleep. But he almost felt more tired, now, he'd slept so deeply.

Rosmerta had already left for the Pub and dropped Elizabeth off at school on the way. Lin DaWei arrived to sniff a bit disparagingly at Severus' coffee and summon her own pot of tea that smell faintly like lotus blossoms.

"We need to do this soon." Severus said in a faintly tired tone. "Tomorrow morning, in fact."

"Should we not go over the formula one more time?" Lin asked a bit hesitantly. She was less and less sure of the potion.

"We must try." Severus said in tones that indicated how little he liked this option, but really, was there another choice?

Tom frowned and refused to think of failure. This simply had to work.

Lin left and Harry followed Severus into the lab. Only half of it now housed cauldrons and ingredients. The other half had a worktable with a flock of the miniature dragons in a large glass case. The dragon's manufacturers sent him a few of them every time they came out with a new dragon.

They always had Severus look it over and ensure the spells were correct. Severus regularly came up with new spells for them since he had Beth there with her collection of them. Wards to keep them from flying off were imperative. He came up with a 'leash' spell so Beth could take her new 'Hazelette' dragon to school with her and not lose it somewhere.

Most of all he made castles for the dragons. He'd made a beautiful one for Beth's enclosure that housed her collection, complete with moat, turrets, windows that lit up, etc. She took it to school for 'show and tell' and the entire population of the school (teachers included) just had to have one.

Replications spells could only do so much and most of the details had to be done by him one by one on each castle. He'd found he could charge rather large amounts for the dragon castles. Many children (as well as adults) wanted castles made to order for their displays and he charged even more for them. He suspected having castles made by the father of 'The Boy Who Lived' had a certain cache and Severus charged accordingly.

Beth now had five of the beasts and would soon have a sixth as soon as Severus finished going over the spells on it for the company. They wanted to market it soon, since Christmas was only 2 weeks away. They had the Hazelette dragon – a very deep emerald shadowing into black on her wings and tail, as all aging Welsh Greens did. The 'Triwizard trio' was the Hebredian Black, a young Welsh Green and a Hungarian Horntail. A Swedish Shortsnout soon followed and now a Chinese Fireball would join them, hopefully in time for Christmas.

Harry joined in putting the finishing touches on a castle for someone in Paris. The gleaming crystal confection looked a bit overdone, but that was what they wanted. Severus snickered that the dragons would likely have it dingy from smoke in no time.

"Do you think I could have a dose of Dreamless Sleep tonight?" Harry asked, startling Severus. "I really could use some unbroken sleep before we use the potion."

"Is your sleep disturbed every night?" Severus asked.

"No, but I am never sure when I'll end up with these intense dreams." Harry sighed heavily. "I'm always going down these long corridors and then into a huge room with row after row of these globes with mist in them. It makes no sense at all."

Severus sat back in the chair and placed his wand on the table. He clasped his hands together and frowned unhappily. "On the contrary, Harry, it makes perfect sense." Harry looked at him in surprise. "The globes are prophecy globes. The Dark Lord does not know the full prophecy that was made. With you constantly evading him and his assassination attempts, he likely wonders if the prophecy mentions why you can do this." Severus looked at Harry gravely. "He wants you dead, of course, but he must feel he needs to hear the prophecy to accomplish this."

"So that's why it seems to be on his mind so much that it bleeds over into mine, along with his anger?" Harry asked.

"I don't know if it is by accident or deliberate, Harry." Severus said. "But yes, you should take some dreamless sleep tonight."

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Severus, Lucius, Lin and Tom gathered around Harry who was laying rather tensely on the rock encircled by the standing stones. It had been used recently to destroy the necklace. They had destroyed most of the Horcruxes here and reunited Tom with parts of his soul.

This was different. Harry looked around and felt a bit like a druid sacrifice or something. Severus drew the potion up into what looked like a hypodermic syringe. Lucius carefully bound Harry to the stone so he could not move or struggle.

Tom looked torn, "Are you sure you can't give him something to put him unconscious during this?"

"No." Lin DaWei said for what seemed the hundredth time. "We won't know if it's working or if it is going wrong if he is not conscious."

Tom and Lin cast a few more wards and dragons gathered outside the circle. They were equally concerned that the potion would work. They had searched long and hard for an answer for Harry.

Harry caught Severus' eyes and tried to convey his confidence to his noticeably distraught father.

Severus gathered his willpower and told himself that he had to try and lowered the needle to the scar, he injected as much of the potion as the scar would take and stumbled back as Harry screamed. Severus hadn't heard a scream like that since the last cruciatus he had witnessed.

Harry tried to struggle, but Lucius' bonds held firm. He was sure that knives were penetrating his skull and setting his brain on fire. Nothing could hurt this badly and not either kill him or drive him mad. There seemed to be a swirling in his mind and he could see Voldemort lying on the floor of a room, squirming and screaming as well.

It was cold comfort to know that the Dark Lord was suffering as well.

The wizards and witch watched in horror. Lucius and Tom looked to Severus, should they stop the process? Could they stop the process?

Lin finally broke in, sounding desperate. "It isn't working … Severus?"

Severus was frozen in horror, but had been unsure. They had known it would be painful. Should he stop it? Was he going to take Harry's chance of freedom away because he couldn't tolerate watching this torture?

Lucius' snapped, "Severus!" broke him out of his trance and he grabbed the syringe full of neutralizing agent and injected it, banishing it all from the scar and watched as Harry panted in relief. Lucius cast a finite and Severus gathered Harry into his arms and rocked him as he wept silently. The Potion had not worked.

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