Disclaimer: Not mine!

Author's Note: After the really point-having note last time I have to continue that way. So here it goes: This chapter contains a RAPE/ABUSE flashback and though once again it's not really graphic, at least not in my opinion, you shouldn't read it, if you have any reason not to (that again was pretty pointless #shrug#). I marked it where the rape starts and ends and you can just skip that paragraph.

26. THE EXAM

The owl from the Ministry arrived somewhere around two o'clock, as Harry was sitting in what had been dubbed his study, going through the last of the chemistry notes, telling him that the examiner, one Edward Parks, would be coming at exactly three o' clock and that the exam would start at quarter past, lasting three hours. Of course Harry wasn't very experienced in resitting exams, but he was pretty sure that normally the examinee was expected to show up at the examiner's and not the other way round, though he hazarded a guess that the Ministry was rather curious how Voldemort's lair looked like.

So it came to no-one's surprise, when at the appointed time a stocky wizard with twitchy eyes that seemed to jump from one corner to the other in less than a heartbeat appeared within the ring of Death Eaters, whom Tom had deemed necessary to give of the right first impression.

"Good afternoon", he squeaked, apparently irritated be the wands unwaveringly trained on him, "I'm Edward Parks, who of you might be Harry Potter?"

"That would be me", Harry replied from his place next to Tom, who had previously ordered him to stay behind him, "Good afternoon, Mr. Parks."

The watery brownish eyes landed briefly on the small body next to the imposing form of the Dark Lord, whom he didn't dare to look at: "We should start..."

"Not so fast, Mr. Parks", Voldemort hissed in his best I'm-a-evil-Dark-Lord-and-like-to-think-up-ways-to-torture-small-childrens-in-order-to-fall-asleep, "Since your in my home, there're a few rules, you should be aware of: First you will stay in the room with Mr. Potter at all times, you will not stray from there under any circumstances, you will not touch anything, unless you have been explicitly asked to do so and you will hand over your wand."

Parks sputtered at a loss for words, but still not looking at the Dark Lord: "I'm a representative of the Ministry of Magic- I have political integrity!"

"I'm the Dark Lord and I don't care for your integrity", Tom smirked contemptuously, keeping Harry with an outstretched hand from interfering, "So you either hand over your wand right now, leave or you will be attack. It's your choice."

Parks' eyes danced along the lines of Death Eaters, who stood with impassive faces, as if calculating his chance to survive their curses, before he extracted his wand and threw it at Voldemort, who caught it with ease: "This way, Mr. Parks", Tom said, giving his servants a sign to blend into the background, but to keep an eye on the examiner, and motioned to the door taking Harry's hand without attracting attention.

He led them into one of the barely used studies, where he left his husband alone with the podgy examiner, wishing him good luck.

"Mr. Potter, thanks to your husband's interference we're already past the starting time, so I suggest you commence right now. Here's your quill and the questions. I don't want to hear a peep from you. Begin."

Harry rolled his eyes, to him it was obvious that Mr. Parks tried to compensate for his defeat against Voldemort by ordering him around, but he didn't really care as long as the other wizard left him alone, he would be fine. He sat down on the table near the open window, wanting to have a fresh breeze of air to cool his nerves, and stared at the first question. Describe in short the rises and downfall of the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, going into his second rise. Surely, this was a joke, right? He read the next question: Try to analyse the Dark Lord's strategy. Harry skimmed over the rest of the questions, finding that all of them concerned Voldemort in one way or the other. He was tempted to just walk out of that room, leaving the exam torn into little pieces or write another letter to the Ministry on his parchment, but then he thought better of it. They wanted inside information and who was he to refuse such a simply request? And so he set to work, putting all his anger into the words. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his examiner walk along the walls, often standing at the door, listening to any sounds. Harry could of course have told him that this was completely fruitless, since Tom had spelled the room sound-prove, but he wasn't allowed to speak, so he just let the hilarious behaviour inspire his answers.

"Time's up", Parks called at twenty past six, snatching the paper from his fingers, "I'll correct it right now. You can wait outside!"

Harry gave him a brilliantly false smile and sauntered out of the room, where he was received by the Malfoys, Severus and Tom.

"How did it go?", Draco asked him as soon as the door snapped shut.

"I decided I should become an author", Harry announced, "And I hope you like chocolate, Tom."

"Why?", the red-eyed wizard asked, puzzled.

"I wrote you were allergic to it", Harry shrugged his shoulders, "And you are afraid of Nifflers, your favourite colour is Slytherin-green and you don't know the counter spell to Stupefy."

"Care to explain that to me?", Tom raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Well, they asked stupid questions, so they got stupid answers", Harry shrugged again, "If I remember correctly question seven asked in a roundabout way ways to kill you and question fourteen was whether it's possible for a large group of trained Aurors to storm the castle without you knowing. And if you don't like chocolate there'll be more for me, I'm sure they'll try to poison you with it."

"You really did this?", the Dark Lord asked again and when Harry nodded, he started to laugh, pulling the smaller boy into his arms, "You're priceless, Harry", he couldn't completely mask his relief that Harry hadn't jumped at the chance to get rid of him.

Tom reluctantly let go, as Harry pulled back, but was glad he did so, when Parks stuck his ugly head out of the room only moments later: "Mr. Potter, you can come back in to receive your certificate, since I'm not allowed to come out", if he had dared to look at Voldemort, he surely would have glared at him, but so he made do with focusing his twitching eyes for a second on the floor, "I also have your school letter and your OWL results."

"Just hand them over and then go", Tom growled menacingly, "I assure you that Mr. Potter is quite capable to read the results for himself. Here is your wand."

In the same swift movement, he offered the examiner his wand, he drew his own, as did the other Death Eaters, who had once again emerged from the shadows. The Ministry representative gave an undignified squeak and vanished without further ado after having shoved a pile of parchments into Harry's hands and grabbing his wand.

Harry rolled out the parchment on which he had written his answers finding to his amusement a misshapen red O under it and then finally held his OWL report in his hands, which now sported another Outstanding instead of the Poor and the note that he was the best student in his year, since his teaching the DA had also been assessed as kind of an extra lesson. When he opened his school letter, he saw not only the usual note that the school term would start on Monday, 1st of September, but also information that his Quidditch ban had been revoked and that he had been made Captain of the Quidditch team and reinstated as Gryffindor's seeker.

"Seems like we'll be playing against each other, Draco", Harry smiled looking at the older boy, "Who's Slytherin's team captain, by the way?"

"I, of course", Draco smirked, "Do you still think you'll beat me?"

Harry laughed happily: "Of course I will, Draco, but don't be sad, I'm sure you'll shoot three or four goals, too."

Draco playfully slapped Harry's head: "Maybe, I'll shoot you through one of the loops, you're certainly small enough..."

"You just wait!", Harry raced after the fleeing and laughing blond, leaving the others to amuse themselves.

He tackled Draco once he caught up with him and they both tumbled to the ground, rolling around on the floor, until Draco came out on top, pinning the smaller boy to the ground. Draco smirked down at the green-eyed boy, chuckling as Harry tried to push him away and scowled up at him.

"Let me sum this up: Draco Malfoy one, Harry Potter zero", he teased, "Now what should I do we you?"

"Get off, Draco. You're heavy", Harry pouted cutely, shoving against the blond's chest.

"Oh, I don't think so, Harry", he purred and straddled Harry's delicate form, "You've left me alone awfully much this past few days, so I think I should take advantage of this new development. You have your choice between staying here and go swimming in the sea or to go visit Blaise and celebrate his birthday."

"I didn't know it was his birthday", Harry muttered, "You go and celebrate his birthday with him."

"No, Harry, either you come, too, or I stay here", Draco argued, still sitting on Harry's belly.

"But he's your best friend!", the black-haired boy protested weakly, "He certainly wouldn't want me there."

"Blaise invited you and he doesn't do things just because others expect him to do so, Harry. He really likes you."

"Tom wouldn't allow it...", Harry began, but the blond interrupted him: "I asked him, when the invitation arrived yesterday and he allowed it under the condition that you're back before midnight."

"But I have no present for him", the black-haired Gryffindor said, "And it's his birthday!"

Draco shook his head, Harry didn't make it easy for him to persuade him: "His birthday is on September 1st, he just celebrates it today out of tradition and so that his parents can be there, too, so if you really want to give him something, which you don't have to and which he doesn't expect, you can give it to him on the train. And now come on or there won't be any cake left", he got up and held out his hand to help Harry up.

They flooed to Zabini Mansion, Draco catching the smaller boy, as he tumbled out of the fireplace after having knocked his head on the mantel, attracting the attention of the other people in the room.

"Draco, Harry", their host, Blaise Zabini, walked over to them, thumped Draco on the back and ruffled Harry's hair, who futily tried to hide behind the blond, "I was almost worried you wouldn't come anymore. If you're fast enough, you might be able to save a piece of cake from Vince and Greg", he motioned to the two tall boys, who shared their fathers' passion for all kinds of food.

Draco immediately stalked over to the two Slytherins and loaded the last two pieces of the coffee cream cake on two plates, glaring at Vincent Crabbe, as he dared to protest, while Harry unsurely stood next to the fireplace, taking in all the Slytherins assembled in the room. Crabbe and Goyle junior, or Vince and Greg as Blaise had called them, of course watched over the food and beverages, though Harry had noticed that their fathers weren't as stupid as one would assume, if you saw their blank faces if asked a question, but actually were more than two walking piles of muscles. On the sofa sat Pansy and Ted, seemingly waiting for Blaise to join them again in their card-game.

"Come on, Harry", Blaise gently pushed him towards the sofa to the seat between Pansy and Ted, "Or do you intend to stand around the whole evening."

"Harry", Pansy squealed delightedly and rapturously threw her arms around his thin body, "It's great you two finally showed up. How have you been?"

"I'm sorry we're late, it was not Draco's fault", apologised Harry and tried to vanish into the cushions.

"Not this again, Harry", Draco reprimanded and plopped into one of the leather armchairs, "You don't have to apologise for anything. He had to resit his History exam", he explained to the others, while he handed Harry one of the plates, who started to eat slowly.

"Oh, yes, I remember, you fainted in the middle of it", Pansy mused, "What happened?"

"I didn't faint!", Harry said indignantly, "It's just not very enjoyable to have a vision of your godfather being tortured pushed into your head."

"Ah, so that was the reason you went to the Ministry", the only girl in the room concluded, "I wondered about that. You can never be sure that those idiots from the Daily Prophet got it right."

"How did you get there?", Draco asked, "My dad only told me that you more or less messed about with them long enough for the Order of the Flaming Flamingo to show up."

"Thestrals", Harry muttered shortly, trying to make it clear that he didn't want to continue this conversation

"You can see them?", Blaise asked interested, noting his mistake too late, when Harry's lips thinned to a narrow line and his eyes closed off as he stood up, intending to make his way back to the fireplace: "Yes, I saw Cedric die and now if you will excuse me, I don't find the conversation agreeable for me. I hope you have a nice birthday."

"Harry, come on, it was stupid and insensitive of me to ask such a question", Blaise pleaded, "Don't leave now. We'll talk about something else, okay? You haven't finished your cake yet, please?"

But Harry had already halted midway to the fireplace, because Vince and Greg were unintentionally blocking his way with their big bodies. They had wanted to refill the bowl of crisps in their hands and most likely join the others on the sofa, but had turned around , when they felt the presence in their backs, looking their most intimidating. Of course when they recognised Harry, they relaxed immediately, but the harm was already done and the much smaller boy shied away from them, whimpering softly, his eyes wide in terror.

"Potter", Vince grunted in what he assumed a calming voice, but it only served to aggravate the situation further, as did the voices that came from the sofa.

Harry sank to the floor and curled into himself, once again the small twelve year-old his uncle had tried to squeeze the magic out of.

It was the day after his twelfth birthday, but as far as Harry was concerned, it could have been any other day just as well, since he hadn't got any presents or even a card, because that weird house-elf didn't want him to go back to Hogwarts. Obviously, Dobby had no idea what he was demanding of Harry. Whatever danger was in store for him at his school was certainly nothing compared to the danger, he faced here. He wasn't even sure, if he would survive the summer, but most likely he would, because what would his uncle do without his little plaything and Aunt Petunia without someone she could blame for everything that went wrong starting with the way her hair looked and ending with the weather? And of course they needed someone to do all their chores, which was his activity at the moment- not that he ever did much else. Right now he was cleaning the house, not that it needed cleaning, and since he already did all the bedrooms and the bathroom, it was time for the living room.

He hated the living room, in part because it was the biggest and definitely the messiest room, since Dudley spend all of his free time in there, munching crisps and slurping milk shakes, covering the floor and sofa with crumbles, plastic bags and stains, but mostly, because it was full with photographs of his relatives: his cousins first ride on a bike, his cousin sitting in front of the television, all three of them leaning against Uncle Vernon's new car, his aunt's and uncle's wedding day, his cousins last ride on his father's shoulders, before he infinitely became too heavy, his Aunt Marge and Aunt Petunia sitting next to each other on a park bench, watching Dudley, as he 'played' with Harry, Dudley's first school day, Dudley and his best-friend Piers licking ice cream, Uncle Vernon in his best suit at the day he was nominated, as the most successful business man of the year,...

Harry all knew them by heart, having dusted them uncountable times and so he knew that he was on none of them, unless you counted his bruised arm that stuck out under Dudley's blubbery body. He sighed quietly and walked over to the mantelpiece where the wedding photo, Dudley's first school day and the family picture in front of the car had their places, when suddenly the bulking form of his uncle blocked his way.

"You", he stabbed his fat finger at his trembling nephew, as if Harry was mentally retarded, "You haven't been punished for your freakishness from yesterday night!", Harry had a bit of a problem to understand his uncle because he slurred the words and swallowed parts of them, a sure sign that he was drunk- it was never good, when he was drunk, "The Masons cancelled the deal because of you, freak! And you made us think that you were allowed to do those freakish things! I think, it's time you learned a lesson."

He grabbed his nephew by the too large shirt and dragged him to the smallest bedroom of Privet Drive, number 4. It no longer belonged to Harry but rather served as a storage room for Dudley's old things, since he thought Harry had contaminated it. They had put him in there for two days at the beginning of the holidays so that they could say that he lived there and they also put his things there, because Harry was back in the cupboard.

"Uncle Vernon, Sir", Harry almost sobbed, though there were no tears escaping from his eyes, "I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon, you have to believe me, it wasn't me...", his uncle knocked him head first against the wall: "Shut up, freak, I'll teach you a lesson", there was a eager gleam in his bleary eyes.

BEGINNING OF RAPE SCENE:

He pushed open the door, which emitted an ominous creak and jerked a still dazed Harry onto the old bed. Harry didn't dare open his eyes for fear of what he might see, but the sound of a zipper being opened and trousers being discarded told him everything he didn't want to know. His uncle roughly pulled down his too big jeans, letting the rope which had held them in place cut into Harry's thin hips and his boxer shorts were torn apart, leaving the pale, small ass exposed.

Harry knew what was coming next, though his uncle had only done it five times before: the first time after the police officer had brought him home, the second time, when he had somehow vanished the glass, separating Dudley from a huge boa constrictor, the third time after the first of his school letters had arrived, the fourth time when he had come back from Diagon Alley, with an owl and dozens of packages full of magical utensils and the fifth time on his first day back from school, when Petunia and Dudley had gone out to order a new set of uniforms for the rapidly growing boy. That was something Harry could count on, Uncle Vernon would only do this, when his aunt and cousin weren't home, though he knew for a fact that Petunia was aware of it.

He felt large, fleshy hands stroke his buttocks in a mockery of a caress, while his uncle muttered again and again that he would teach him a lesson for his misbehaviour, till the muttering turned into grunts and something large and hard thrust into the cleft of his ass, tearing the soft tissue. Harry bit down on his lower lip so as not to cry out and willed the tears to stay behind his tightly shut lids as he felt his own warm blood trickle down his inner thighs. With one final thrust and groan Uncle Vernon came, coating Harry's insides with his semen. Unconcerned about the additional pain he pulled out of his nephew, aggravating the tears in his anus and redressed, while Harry lay motionless on the mouldy bed, the blood and semen mixing and sipping into the coarse and moth-eaten blanket.

END OF RAPE SCENE

He hardly felt it, when his uncle unbuckled his belt and whipped his back, leaving a criss-cross of welts and cuts so that he had something to show to Aunt Petunia, something he wasn't trying to hide, and only subconsciously realised that he was supposed to wash up and finish his chores before his aunt came back.

Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Ted, Vince and Greg didn't know what to do anymore, they had tried to talk to Harry, but whenever they raised their voices even just a little, Harry flinched violently. Pansy had tried to put an arm around his shoulders, but Harry's whimpering grew louder and he squirmed away from her touch, protecting his head with his arms and hands. Ted had even sung something that he deemed a lullaby, though no-one blamed Harry for his lack of positive response to that one because Ted clearly wasn't destined to make a musical career.

"What did you do, you two oafs?", Draco hissed to Greg and Vince not for the first time, but kept the volume down and his eyes on Harry's shaking form, "If you had just flexed your muscles, Harry would have no reason to act like this."

Vince grunted once again, making Harry curl even tighter in on himself, clearly displeased, but didn't say anything. Neither he nor Greg were very talkative, though he still said much more than the slightly taller boy, who was yet to say anything.

"Maybe, we should fetch my mum and dad", suggested Blaise, "They could use a Calming Spell on him."

"I doubt that bringing even more people here in order to shoot spells at him is the right approach", Pansy snubbed him, "Perhaps if we just leave him alone, he'll calm down...?"

"I won't leave him here alone, while he's in this state", Draco glared at her, "Salazar knows, what could happen to him."

"Well, since we can't leave or fetch someone to help, let's try to find out what caused this", Ted reasoned, ever the sensible one, "What exactly happened?"

"He got up, after I had asked this questions about the Thestrals", answered the dark-skinned boy, "And he walked towards the fireplace, but stopped when he noticed Greg and Vince."

"Good, now how did he react, when he saw you?", Ted asked the two large Slytherins.

"He froze, his eyes went really wide and then he squeezed them shut and backed off", Greg spoke up for the first time, since Vince's manner of speaking seemed to worsen Harry's condition, "Vince called his name and when you tried to talk to him, he sank to the floor and curled up."

"Keep talking", Draco ordered in a whisper, motioning at Harry's small form, whose tremors had subsided to a light shivering, but who was still trying to make himself as small as possible, "But not about this, something pleasant."

Greg thought for a second: "Harry?", he called softly, crouching down, so that he was more on eye level, with the younger wizard, provided that Harry would open his eyes, which didn't look like it would happen in the near future; the others stood around them in a semi-circle, "I never told you that I really admire your Quidditch skills, did I? Well, I do. It's looks like you're the one flying and the broom has nothing to do with it. I surely couldn't make those sharp twists and dives. You should see McGonagall: Every time you pull a stunt like the Wronski Feint or only barely dodge the Bludgers, she clutches the banister like it was the only thing that keeps her seated. And the last time you bet Draco, he ranted about you for over two hours, but didn't notice that after a few minutes it turned into a laudation- we had a good laugh about him!", the blond's face turned to an angry and embarrassed crimson, but he relaxed slightly when Harry gave a weak chuckle, "It was really unfair of Umbridge to ban you last year, but you're allowed to play again this year, aren't you?"

Harry gave no reply, however he loosened his arms around his head and drew it back from his knees, brilliant green eyes peeking through dark lashes and black bangs.

"Harry?", Draco knelt down next to the small Gryffindor, whose eyes swivelled to meet his grey ones, "Is there anything we can do to make you feel better?", he asked, knowing that a standard question like "Are you feeling okay?" or "Is something wrong?", was completely useless and the answer to it obvious.

"Don't...", Harry caught himself, before his answer could reveal more of the nature of his little problem, "I'm fine", he pulled himself together and sat up, like nothing had happened, "Where's the toilette?"

"The second door to the left", Blaise answered, "But are you sure you are okay, Harry. What happened?"

"I'm fine", Harry laughed it off, "They just reminded me of Dudley, I'm fine", he disappeared from the room, before they could pester him with further questions.

"I don't believe him", Pansy declared, "And weren't he and Dudley thick as thieves?"

"Harry told me that Dudley used to beat him up", Draco supplied, "But that can't be the only reason, he reacted so violently."

"I've never seen anyone so frightened before", the Italian-looking boy said, "It was like he would rather die than face, whatever he was afraid of."

The others nodded in agreement, but couldn't say anything else because Harry returned from the bathroom with his head held high and his eyes expressionless.

"Hey, Harry, feeling better?", Pansy greeted him and pulled him down on the sofa between her and Draco.

"Yeah, I'm fine", Harry answered for the fourth time and freed his arm from her grip.

He had to call upon all of his self-possession not to flinch away or to break down again.

"Well, I'm glad", Pansy said, "But could you explain this to us?"

"There's nothing to explain", Harry evaded her question, "They startled me, that's all."

Draco made a sign before Pansy could become sarcastic- a sarcastic Pansy was nothing far from frightening and somehow he doubted that Harry could cope with that right now: "And what did Greg do to calm you down, Harry? We have tried everything."

Harry's cheek tinted pink, as he ducked his head: "He has a nice voice, it reminded me of Tom."

The Slytherins looked all as stunned as their upbringing allowed them to and Pansy even sighed dreamily- after all she was still a girl- when she heard of this, what she thought, cast iron proof of the beginning of the love story of the century, hell the millennium. Two mortal enemies, thrown together by fate, slowly but surely falling in love with each other and instead of trying to kill the respective other, being prepared to sacrifice their own lives for the happiness of the other, that clearly was material for one hell of a romance novel!

"Sooo...",she asked, "How are things going with everyone's favourite Dark Lord?"

"Harry has him wrapped around his little finger", Draco smirked proudly, but Harry shook his head, blushing even harder: "That's not true."

"Of course it is!", Draco argued, smirking harder, "He stopped torturing the Death Eaters because Harry doesn't like it."

"Maybe he just realised that hexing the ones who believe in him, isn't the best way to assure their loyalty", Harry interjected displeasedly.

"And he got really angry, when he found out that Bella crucioed Harry", Draco continued, ignoring the Gryffindor.

"She disobeyed his orders and he crucioed her, which totally contradicts your first point."

"He took Harry out to this water park, your family goes to sometimes", the blond said to Ted, "And he allows Harry to spent time with Severus, my dad, the Lestranges and me, although he's clearly jealous."

"He's not jealous", Harry raised his voice, "And he certainly has better things to do than to keep me company."

"Hush, Harry, Draco is telling a story", Pansy hushed him, leaning forward so that she could look around the green-eyed wizard, "Go on, Draco!"

Harry scowled darkly at them, but refrained from trying to reason with them: "Don't mind them, Harry", Blaise consoled him and dragged him over to the food stand, where Greg and Vince had once again taken stand, "They are the greatest gossips, I ever met, to try and stop them is absolutely futile. Believe me, I tried. Now, what would you like to drink? There's butterbeer, pumpkin juice, coffee, water, coke, some stuff I wouldn't advice you to drink, since Vince brought it, and punch..."

"Wait a minute", Harry looked up at him and then searched the table, "You know coke?"

"Yes", he smiled at Harry's bemused expression, "One time, when I was five or six or something like that, Dad had done something to really upset my mum. So he tried to make it up by taking us out for dinner. But he hadn't thought about it being Halloween and every Wizarding restaurant was already fully booked, so instead we went into a Muggle one. The waiter looked really weird at me, when I ordered pumpkin juice, so my dad pointed at the first beverage, he could find on the menu and that happened to be coke. Since then I've been addicted to it, so would you want some?"

Harry nodded. He had never tasted it before and as he carefully sipped the brown liquid, he thought it a bit sweet for his liking, but otherwise not bad.

"So, Harry", Greg's deep voice sounded over a bowl of cookies, which he was sharing with his muscular friend, "You like my voice? I can't say I hear this very often", he was clearly amused.

The delicate boy ducked his head again in an attempt to hide his blush, but Blaise came to his rescue: "Well, you don't give people ample opportunity to hear it, now do you? And now make room for Harry and me!"

He dragged the other dark-haired boy over to the comfortable loveseat on which the two large boys sat, considered the available space for a moment and after calculating that he would be able to squeeze between the other Slytherins, who had moved so that they half sat on the arms, plopped down and pulled Harry into his lap, who let out a startled squeak: "Harry, take a cookie!"

"Have all Slytherins this 'Old hag' qualities?", Harry griped, "I'm starting too feel like Hänsel (1)..."

"Ehm, Harry, sorry to tell you, but we can't make any sense of what you just said", Blaise took his own cookie.

"Sorry, it's a Muggle fairytale", Harry muttered, munching on his cookie.

"Well, we have time, tell us", Vince urged and so Harry told them about "Hänsel and Gretel".

About the time when Hänsel stuck the branch through the bars, they were joined by the others so that Harry had to summarise the beginning for them, before he could continue and then Mrs. Zabini, a short, slightly chubby woman in her late forties came to see, if they needed anything and to tell Blaise that she had just received an urgent call and had to attend to her duties as an Unspeakable.

"I think I will take my leave now", Ted yawned, getting up from the armchair on which he had sat, "It's already past midnight and Mum doesn't like it when I wake my little sisters with the Floo..."

"What?", Harry interrupted alarmed, "It's past midnight? You said Tom wanted me home before midnight, Draco! Shit!", he hastily scrambled to his feet, "I'm sorry I have to go. It was nice, thanks, Blaise", he briefly hugged the taller boy, "Good-Bye everyone, I see you at school."

"Wait, Harry", Draco called, "I'll go first, it won't help one bit if you hit your head again and black-out. And I'll tell the Dark Lord that it was my fault..."

"But it's not your fault!", the Gryffindor exclaimed, "And I'll floo directly to Tom's and my rooms", Harry pushed past him and grabbed some Floo Powder from the conveniently placed bowl on the mantel/Slytherin Castle, the trick was to say the name in Parseltongue, this way Tom could be sure that no-one else would be able to invade their quarters.

Harry vanished in a swirl of green fire: "Do you think, he will be alright?", Pansy inquired anxiously, but nobody had an answer.

Apart from the throbbing of his head, where he had knocked it against the mantel, before ungraciously falling to the floor, Harry was fine. He was more than fine actually, because Tom sat next to him on the floor and was tending to his head with gentle hands.

"I'm sorry, I'm late", Harry murmured downheartedly.

"It's okay", the Dark Lord answered generously and helped Harry to stand up, "You were only five minutes or so late."

"Are you angry that I just disappeared without telling you?", the green-eyed boy asked, still nervous.

"No, Harry", he pulled him in his arms, "I knew where you were. I'm not angry."

"Really?"

"Really. Did you have fun?", he smiled, as Harry nodded, "Are you tired?", again Harry nodded and the older man chuckled, when he saw that Harry was trying to suppress a yawn, "Well, then go get changed", he gently pushed the petite boy to the bathroom.

Voldemort had already changed into his usual pyjama bottoms, while he had waited not so patiently for Harry's return. Five minutes? Harry had been at least half an hour late and it was definitely not like he hadn't noticed it or hadn't been worried. He had been close to flooing to Zabini Mansion, when Harry came tumbling out of the fireplace and then Harry had looked so utterly dejected that he swallowed the speech he had had ample time to finalise, and instead tried to soothe the young boy.

Said boy re-emerged from the bathroom and slipped into bed next to him, snuggling into Lami, his teddy bear, and waited for Tom to put an arm around him, before he closed his eyes.

(1) Hänsel and Gretel is a fairytale by the Brothers Grimm. I have no idea if you know it, too, or if they have other names in your country, so if it got you confused, here's a quick summary:

Hänsel and Gretel are brother and sister and they are abandonned by their parents, because they don't have enough money. The parents abandon them once, but Hänsel had a lot of peebles and marked the way home with it. The next time they were abandonned he didn't have any peebles and so he used his bread, but the birds ate the bread and they got lost. They finally came to a little hut in which the old hag lived, who captured them and while Gretel had to work for her, Hänsel was put in a cage and fed very well, because the old hag wanted to eat him. However the hag was blind and every time she wanted to check on the progress of fattening Hänsel he handed her a twig instead of his finger. Finally the old hag lost her patience and told Gretel to make a fire in the oven, but when the hag looked into the oven, Gretel shoved her in. Gretel freed her brother and they lived happily ever after...

Fairytales are rather cruel, aren't they? The poor old hag...

You got two stories, if you will. Don't you think I deserve a reveiw for that? Please?