Harry sat down in defeat on his bed. He had no doubts that Ron would go tell everyone that he was a Death Eater. Ron was the type to blurt out things like that when he was angry, but he wasn't a Death Eater. Not in the true sense of the phrase.

With those thoughts, he was surprised when Hermione entered the dormitory alone.

“Harry, is it true?” she asked in anguish.

“I'm not a Death Eater,” said Harry.

“But Ron told me you had the-the Dark Mark,” she said quietly. Harry looked up at Hermione with pained eyes.

“I'm not a Death Eater,” he said again.

“Of course you aren't,” said Hermione consolingly, but her eyes told a different story. They were wary, as though he were going to jump up and start casting Unforgiveables at her.

“And just how many other people did Ron tell?” asked Harry bitterly.

“Just me,” said Hermione. “I convinced him to keep this quiet.”

“Good,” said Harry. “No one was supposed to know in the first place.”

“I won't let him tell anyone, I promise,” said Hermione.

Yeah right, thought Harry. If it would benefit her to, she would tell.

“Can you just leave me alone?” he asked tiredly.

“Sure,” said Hermione. She gave him one last pitying look before leaving him alone.

Harry flopped facedown onto his bed. It was only a matter of time until this came out, like everything else about him. And if everyone knew about the Dark Mark marring his arm, then he was sure to be expelled. Snape had said that he was sure there was a law about that.

Harry sat up abruptly and picked up his wand. He shoved it into his pocket and headed out of the dormitory. He couldn't stay here in the Tower right now. He just felt too exposed.

He wandered the corridors for a while, finally ending up staring at a slightly cracked mirror that was as big as a door. He remembered the twins saying something about a mirror covering a secret passage that had caved in, in his third year.

He pushed the mirror to the side and slipped inside the opening. It was not the small corridor he had expected, but a cavernous room filled with boxes and all manner of strange things.

There were several chairs and couches, and Harry seated himself on one of the latter. He rose quite a bit of dust and sneezed repeatedly. He pulled out his wand and cast a few cleaning charms, and then wandered over to the boxes to see what was in them.

“Wicked,” he whispered as he saw bottles of Butterbeer and various other snacks contained in some of the boxes. All of them appeared to be stored magically. Other boxes held what looked like various prank prototypes.

Laying on top of another box was a slightly yellowing piece of parchment sealed with three W's in orange wax. He broke the seal and unrolled the parchment.

Dear Harry,

If you're reading this, then you've located our secret hiding place for the last three years. We'd have liked to have just told you outright about this place, but we thought you'd prefer the challenge of looking for it.

We did give you little hints along the way, though.

As we discovered ourselves after finding the treasure that is the Marauder's Map in our first year, as well as being a secret passage to Hogsmeade, this place was also used by the Marauders.

No one else knows about it, save for us and you, and probably Professor Lupin.

The boxes are all charmed for an everlasting supply of sweets and to contain various interesting magical objects. We've left our own mark on the place, as you no doubt will discover on your own.

Anyways, do be sure and make the most of this place.

Yours,

Gred and Forge

Wow, thought Harry as he looked around the room with newfound appreciation. This place was perfect to hide out in. It could use a bit of sprucing up, but otherwise, the room was perfect for him.

He grabbed a Butterbeer and lay back on a couch to relax. He was ignoring the problems he had, but he deserved some time to be on his own and relax.

His arm tingled slightly and he pressed the cold butterbeer bottle to it, soothing his skin.

He lay there lethargically for a while, not in a hurry to return to the cruel reality that was his life. He wished he could just stay here until the Dark Mark vanished from his arm. But he couldn't stay sequestered in this room forever.

He sat up with a sigh and set the Btterbeer on the floor. He might as well go back to the Tower now. He had all the time he needed to come back and explore further.

He slipped cautiously out from behind the cracked mirror and meandered slowly back to the Tower. When he entered the Common Room, he could feel Ron's accusing gaze and Hermione's pitying look of disbelief, and nearly left again. But he decided to stick it out.

He went upstairs to get something to do out of his trunk and found the books on the Dark Arts still in his trunk. The Dark Mark on his arm tingled and he dropped the books to the floor.

Deciding not to touch them again, he got some brown paper out of his trunk and wrapped it around the books, being careful not to touch them. He sealed the package with a spell and gingerly picked it up.

He wasn't sure if the paper would help protect him, but decided to take the risk. He'd have to have Snape get rid of them for him.

He headed downstairs and out of the Common Room without looking at Ron or Hermione.

Unexpectedly, as he headed down to the dungeons, he heard his name being called. He turned to see Ginny walking quickly towards him.

“What?” asked Harry a bit brusquely.

She lightly touched his left arm, where the mark was. Harry jerked his arm away, but she was not fazed.

“I know, Harry,” she said quietly.

“Who told you?” asked Harry, angry that Ron or Hermione had told someone else.

“No one,” said Ginny. “I can just tell that you're marked by him. I know, because I've felt it too. He wanted me as his own, the way he wants you.” Harry was shocked by her frankness.

“Maybe we should talk about this somewhere more private,” he suggested, thinking of the room behind the mirror.

“The Room of Requirement?” she asked.

“No, I know a better place,” said Harry. He led her down to the mirror and into the room.

“Wow,” said Ginny as she stared at the room.

“Have a seat,” invited Harry as he pulled out two Btterbeers. The one he'd had earlier had vanished.

They both sat down on a couch and Ginny resumed telling him about her experience with Voldemort.

“I saw it with you too. What he did to you is almost exactly what he did to me, though I was never marked as directly. My mark is here,” she said, pointing to her heart.

“Ron and Hermione, and you for that matter, never noticed what was happening. He started slowly, seducing me with his mind and memories. When I started doing things I normally wouldn't, like killing the roosters, I really had no control over myself. I hardly even knew it was wrong, that was how deep I had gotten into his mind. Once I got in that far, it was so hard to get out. I tried to get away, but then you found that diary, and I had to get it back, and I fell right into Tom's trap again.”

“Wow,” whispered Harry. Ginny gave him a small smile.

“I know, I saw the exact same thing happen to you. Ron and Hermione were too busy with their bickering to notice what was happening to you. But I saw. The change was so slight at first I don't think they would have noticed even if they weren't fighting all the time. You were acting strange, not much, but just enough that I saw it. And then you got further and further in, and still they didn't notice. But you're all right now,” said Ginny. She fixed him with a pointed look. “What happened to you?”

Harry found himself spilling out the entire story to Ginny. He started with getting caught in the hallway by Malfoy, and went through everything that had happened since.

“Wow, Harry,” she said once he had finished. “And things like that have been happening to you all year?”

“Yeah,” sad Harry with a sigh. “This is the worst it's been, though, since I--” He stopped abruptly, not wanting to admit to his worst mistake.

“You mean those two weeks you disappeared, don't you?” asked Ginny gently.

“Yeah,” said Harry quietly and looked down. “But Ginny, I can't tell you about that. It's too hard just thinking about it.”

“It does help to talk, but I'm not going to make you,” said Ginny. Harry looked back up and into the warm eyes of a girl that was going out of her way to help him get through this, though he had not done anything for her.

“Thanks,” said Harry.

“It's no problem, Harry. I'm just doing what every other witch in England would like to be doing,” she said with a quirky little smile.

“All the same, I really appreciate your help. No one else has had to deal with Voldemort so intimately,” said Harry.

“His mind is a horrible place to be,” said Ginny. “It's not something many could deal with.” Harry nodded, remembering all too well the agony of being possessed by Voldemort.

“I'd rather not be possessed by him ever again,” he said, shuddering slightly.

“That's for sure,” agreed Ginny. Harry fidgeted with the paper that covered the Dark Arts spell books and remembered his original task.

“It's been really good, talking to you like this, but I really need to see my dad,” said Harry. “You can stay here if you like, but be careful of the boxes, I don't know what's in them.”

“Okay,” said Ginny. “Are you sure you'll be all right walking down by yourself?”

“Yeah, I'll be fine. The little ferret's still in the hospital wing and I can easily take care of any other Slytherin that tries something with me,” said Harry.

“Be careful, Harry. Don't let it take over,” warned Ginny.

“I will,” Harry assured her. He slipped out from behind the mirror and headed down to his original destination, Snape's office.

When he arrived there, the door was closed, so Harry knocked loudly. The door remained closed, though, so Harry pressed his ear to the door to see if Snape was inside or not. A quiet murmur of voices met his ear.

Now would be a great time for an Extendable Ear, thought Harry. Then, the voices rose and Harry could hear bits of conversation.

“…I have studied the bylaws thoroughly. Any student found to have the Dark Mark is to be expelled and have his wand snapped immediately.”

“I know the bylaws quite well, Severus, but I will not authorize a search of Draco Malfoy, or any other student for that matter.”

“What about my son's safety? You can't be willing to risk his life like this? Malfoy will never turn. Not now, not ever.”

“My hopes for young Mr. Malfoy are not the reason I will not authorize a search. Did you think that Mr. Malfoy would be the only one examined for the Dark Mark? When such a search is authorized, all students are to be searched. That includes Harry.”

“Dammit!” growled Snape. There was a muffled thud as though Snape had kicked something.

“Then I'm taking Harry out of Hogwarts, at least until Malfoy is gone,” said Snape, his voice resolute.

Harry's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock. He would have to leave Hogwarts.

“…is no need for such drastic measures. I will figure out a way around this. If you are so adamant about Harry's safety, then I will have something worked out.”

Dumbledore sounded resigned. Harry heard a soft pop, and the door to Snape's office was opened. Harry nearly fell sideways, but was stopped by Snape.

“You heard, I presume?” asked Snape.

“Yes, but--” Snape ignored his words and took his arm and led him over to a seat in front of his desk.

“Sit,” he said brusquely. Harry sat with a nervous feeling in his stomach.

“You might as well know that I will remove you from Hogwarts if the Malfoy problem isn't resolved soon,” said Snape. “Dumbledore has promised to remove him from Hogwarts if your information is true, but even with the laws of Hogwarts, I can't put all my faith in Dumbledore anymore.”

Harry sat, stunned into silence. Snape would make him leave Hogwarts because of Malfoy?

“But I can't leave,” protested Harry. “I have to go to school and my friends are here and--”

“Harry, calm down. That will only be a last resort.”

The look in Snape's eyes defied that statement, though. He was worried, really worried.

“Dad, I--”

“Listen, Harry. I'm only telling you so you know what could happen. I don't plan on having to leave, but neither do I want to have to spring it on you at the last minute. All right?” said Snape gently.

“Okay,” said Harry quietly as he fidgeted with the package of books lying on his lap.

“What do you have there?” asked Snape.

“They're books, ones I shouldn't have,” said Harry as he held out the package. Snape took them away from him. The instant the books left his hands, he felt a sharp jolt.

“What?” asked Snape when he jerked his hands away.

“Nothing, just static electricity,” said Harry, though he had no idea whether that was even possible in Hogwarts. Snape didn't say anything, just set the package on his desk and pulled the paper off.

“Harry, where did you get these?” asked Snape as he examined the books.

“I think I got them by owl order” said Harry.

“Thank you for bringing them to me,” said Snape. “It was very responsible of you.”

Hearing Snape's pride made Harry feel slightly guilty. He really needed to tell Snape that Ron, Hermione, and Ginny knew about his Dark Mark.

“Umm…dad, Ron and Hermione kind of found out about my arm,” he said quietly. “Ginny too.”

“What?” asked Snape incredulously.

“Ron snuck up behind me in the dormitory and saw and then he told Hermione. I didn't mean to let him see!” said Harry quickly.

“And Miss Weasley?” asked Snape.

“Well, I don't know exactly how she knows. She said that she could feel the evil from Voldemort on me,” said Harry, knowing that he wasn't explaining very well, but Snape seemed to understand.

“Not surprising, given her own encounters with the Dark Lord,” said Snape. “This shouldn't be too much of a problem, as long as your friends keep it quiet.”

“Well, Ron's mad about it, but Hermione promised to keep him under control,” said Harry. “And I don't think Ginny would even think of telling anyone else.”

“Good,” murmured Snape, running his fingers over the topmost book. “Let me see your arm.”

Harry obediently rolled up the sleeve of his robe and extended his left arm. Snape gently ran his fingers over the mark, which appeared to be fading slightly.

“It's healing quite nicely,” said Snape. He unrolled Harry's sleeve and tugged it back down. “I think you'd better go back to the Tower now. The Headmaster should be Floo'ing down sometime soon.”

“Will you tell me what happens?” asked Harry.

“Yes, of course,” said Snape.

Harry stood up and left with a quiet goodbye. He was relieved to have the books off his hands. Now he could concentrate on getting rid of all the evil in his body with no temptations.

Several hours after returning to the Tower, Harry was summoned to Dumbledore's office, where he was officially notified of Malfoy's expulsion from Hogwarts. He was also told that if there was an appeal, which there probably would be, he would be required to testify against Malfoy.

A few days later, the first snow fell, marking the official start of winter for Hogwarts. A notice to sign up to stay at Hogwarts was posted on the notice board and Harry knew a trip to see his father was in order. Were they staying at Hogwarts or would he finally get to go home for Christmas?

He ventured down to his father's office, at ease walking by himself in the hallways. Now that Malfoy was gone, Slytherin House had calmed down and was no longer actively against him. In fact, they seemed like mere kittens compared to Malfoy.

He reached the door and knocked softly.

“Come in,” said Snape and Harry opened the door to find Snape seated at his desk, a pile of papers before him.

At Harry's inquiring look, Snape merely said, “Official paperwork,” and gestured for him to sit down.

“I don't want to interrupt your work,” said Harry, remaining standing.

“No, you're not interrupting. It's just tedious work,” said Snape as he set the papers aside. “What did you need?”

Harry sat down and glanced at his hands. He forced himself to look up. He had no reason to be nervous; he knew that.

“I was just wondering whether we were staying at Hogwarts or going home for Christmas break,” he said.

“Well, that depends. What do you want to do?” asked Snape.

“I think I'd kind of like to go home,” said Harry. It would be better there than at Hogwarts anyways, what with Ron not speaking to him and Hermione barely so. They both believe that he was evil, a Death Eater, and it tore at his heart knowing that his best friends would turn on him so easily.

At least Ginny was still speaking to him. They had met several times more in the secret room, and though they had the same thing in common, Harry tried to keep his distance from her. What if she chose to turn on him too? If he didn't get too close to her, then she couldn't hurt him.

Although he was trying to protect himself, he owl-ordered her a delicate silver necklace with a tiny phoenix charm. His instincts told him he really shouldn't, that it would send the wrong signals to her, but he did it anyways. He wanted her to know how much he appreciated her help. He just had to make sure she didn't get to close to him because of it.

“Yes, I'm sure we can do that,” said Snape.

“Thanks, dad,” said Harry and stood up. “I'll leave you to your work, then.”

Several more weeks passed by until finally, it was time to leave for Christmas break. Harry eagerly packed and levitated his trunk down to his father's office, where they were to take a Portkey arranged by Dumbledore.

He'd said goodbye to his friends in the Common Room. Ron ignored him, Hermione gave a quiet goodbye, and Ginny tightly hugged him, making him feel a little better. At least someone cared.

No, he couldn't think that. Ginny was his ‘friend', nothing more. And friends could just as easily turn on you.

He knocked on Snape's office door and opened it to find Snape holding a broken quill. Snape held it out to him. Harry held onto the handle of his trunk and touched the quill.

Snape tapped his wand to the quill and said, “Three…two…one…,” and they were off in a whirl of colors. They landed on the second floor of the house. With a flick of Snape's wand, Harry's trunk vanished from the floor.

“Your trunk is in your room. I expect you want to unpack,” said Snape.

“Yeah,” agreed Harry and headed down the hall. He entered his room to find it exactly how it had been when he'd left for Hogwarts. His trunk was situated in front of his bed.

He immediately went over to it and began unpacking his clothes. He quickly finished that task and moved on to removing things he wouldn't need for the rest of the year from his trunk.

He collected a pile of odd items on the floor beside him, including several broken quills, some scraps of parchment, and an empty ink bottle. He gathered them up and opened the bottom drawer of his desk.

When he dumped the stuff in, he heard a muffled thud and a tinkling noise, like glass hitting together. He reached under the drawer and grasped a handful of cool vials.

He froze when his hand emerged from under the drawer and he caught sight of all-too-familiar pink liquid. The vials clinked merrily as they fell out of his hand and onto the floor again.

‘Shite,' he thought as he glanced back at his open bedroom door. He stood up and closed it, then leaned against it, staring at the innocent-looking vials. He had to give them to Snape.

But then a little voice spoke up, one he hadn't heard in a long time.

‘Why don't you keep them? Exams will be coming up in a few months. Having something to relax you will come in handy.'

No, he couldn't do that. It would be wrong.

‘But you could make them sorry, your little friends, all the people who abandoned you. You could take the potions. Snape would save you. They'd be sorry if they knew you tried to kill yourself because of them…'

Much as he didn't like it, the voice did have a point. He shook his head. No, he couldn't do that.

‘Yes, you can. It'd be so easy. Just write them a letter, by the time they get it, you'd be perfectly fine again, and they'd be begging for forgiveness. Come on, you know you want to.'

Though it went completely against his better judgment, he found himself seated at his desk, quill in hand and a bit of parchment in front of him.

The letter was longer than he'd thought it would be. He'd had a great deal more to say to Ron and Hermione than he'd thought. He sealed the letter and gave it to Hedwig. He tied it to Hedwig's leg with slightly unsteady hands and sent her off. He then turned to the vials.

‘It's now or never,' he thought and reached for the vials.