(A/N ok so the scene breaks on ffnet are really doing my head in, half the time the lines disappear. There's also the problem of half my centred text being magically un-centred. I'm sure it's just to piss me off. Any way. Scene breaks will now be marked with OoOoO until ffnet gets their shit together. This song is break my fall, by Breaking Benjamin.)

You fought me once but not again
You let me feel your heavy hand
I will clean your fuckin' mess
And leave no trace of evidence

I am losing you again
Let me out and let me in
'Cause you're not alone here
Not at all
Let me belong here
Break my fall

OoOoO

When Harry dreamt that night it wasn't sexual, as it usually was. Instead, he was the Dark Lord.

This had happened before, of course, but not recently.

The man was sitting on a chaise lounge, reading and scratching his chin, which held a small amount of stubble. This told Harry that the man was neither appearing as Voldemort or Elius. But as Tom Riddle. Which was fascinating to the Boy Who Lived.

Harry couldn't focus on the words on the page, since the Dark Lord himself was not. Instead, inexplicably, he was thinking of the night he had killed Harry's parents. Then his thoughts jumped oddly to Draco Malfoy, then to Harry himself. The Boy Who Lived could feel a mixture of disgust and unbridled excitement from the Dark Lord. He gave a long sigh, pulled his sleeve up and pressed his wand to the Dark Mark there. He stood and Harry got the feeling he had reverted to his Voldemort form.

Seconds later, Lucius entered the room, bowing low.

"My Lord?" He asked.

"Send a letter to your son, I have a job for him." The connection faded and Harry went back to his usual dreams.

The next morning he was hanging upside down off the end of his bed with a scrunched up bit of parchment in his hand. He was trying to get the ball into a crudely made circle he had drawn with his finger and some ink on the floor boards.

He could feel his face going red and his glasses slowly falling off, but he was determined to get it in the circle. He threw it, and it bounced off the wall, rolled out of the ink and joined several other balled up pieces of paper.

"They look like they hurt," A voice said, and he turned to face it. As soon as he did, an apple hit him between the eyes.

"Bloody hell!" He yelped, rolling off the bed and scooping his glasses off the floor.

"Being hit in the face hurts a bit more than this," He said, holding his wrists up.

The Dark Lord had found a correlation between Harry's lust and his duelling ability. Each raid so far, he would wind him up more and more, until he was trying to break his thumbs to get out of his bindings.

The result was some nasty wounds on his wrists, and what he thought was a hairline fracture at the base of his left thumb.

No one offered to heal it, and Harry didn't have a long time with a wand to fix it himself.

"It's from the garden," Elius said, ignoring the Chosen One's indignation.

"No one goes out there. The fruit's good, though." He continued.

"Good enough to throw at my face?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Obviously." He drawled, taking his usual place, leaning against the outside wall.

"So what do you want." Harry said, slightly annoyed.

"Just wondered how many other wandering Death Eaters you've told about the curse." He tried to say this easily, as if he didn't really care. But Harry knew better.

"All of them," Harry told the man easily, leaning against the wall as well.

"Pardon?" He said, though it came through his gritted teeth.

"I'm not serious," Harry sighed.

"Just you."

Elius hmmed.

"The Dark Lord wants to see you, I think." He said after a moment.

"Okay," The Boy Who Lived replied, hiding his smirk by wiping his mouth with his arm. Elius left him alone then, presumably to become Voldemort and then come and get him again.

Harry still didn't know what his goal was.

He got his black customary Death Eater robes and boots, and went into the bathroom to get changed. He didn't know what it was he was being called in for, but he wasn't going to be dragged out in his pyjamas.

He loved the boots.

They were honestly the most comfortable footwear he'd ever warn. They were knee high and what he assumed to be dragon hide. They were just the right weight and never overheated or gave him blisters.

He left the bathroom and sat down on the bed, sitting on his hands and biting his tongue, getting ready to fight the urge to pounce on the Dark Lord as soon as he showed up.

He got to thinking about the dream he'd had, and wondered if it was possible to make it happen. In the past he'd fought it.

But what if he could slip into Voldemort's mind whenever he wanted?

As if the Dark Lord could sense his thoughts, he showed up at the door with a few Death Eaters.

"Morning," Harry muttered, his teeth clenched.

None of them said anything, and Voldemort brought the wards down, then he was hit with multiple stunners before he could blink.

He was dragged through the halls as usual, and strung up in his regular place in the foyer. He was surprised to see Draco Malfoy and his father standing, unmasked, in the centre of the room, but he couldn't say so, his muzzle prevented any talking.

Draco was watching him with comically wide eyes, looking between Lucius and Harry as if someone was going to answer his unspoken question. Harry gave a one shouldered shrug, raising his eyebrows at the other teen.

The Dark Lord was quiet for quite a few seconds, like he wanted someone else to explain what his plan was. The Boy Who Lived shoved his head forward sharply, to get the man's attention, then raised his eyebrows higher once he was looking.

"Don't worry, Draco, he's here of his own free will, aren't you Harry?"

Well, no not really, when you think about it, He thought to himself, but he nodded anyway. Malfoy seemed slightly calmed by this, his eyes weren't as wide.

"I had planned, at the beginning of the year, to use the young Malfoy to kill Dumbledore and get the Death Eaters into the school," Voldemort continued, and Draco's eyes bulged again. This was obviously news to him.

"As it happens, I have a better idea. Potter will do it." There was a long pause, and Harry rattled his restraints, begging for his muzzle to be removed so he could say something.

"What's that Harry? I can't quite hear you." The Dark Lord gave a sharp laugh. Harry glared.

"You'd do best to hold your tongue," Voldemort warned, before he waved his wand and the muzzle vanished. Harry could have whooped with joy.

"Don't worry, Voldemort. I won't say anything… Strange." He laughed, then added in Parseltongue; 'Though I would like to,'

The Dark Lord grimaced.

"How am I going to kill Dumbledore and get your lot into the castle?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Polyjuice potion." He replied simply, and the Boy Who Lived snorted.

"Because that went so well for you in fourth year."

"It worked very well, in your fourth year. I'm standing here as proof of that." The Dark Lord snapped, and Harry laughed loudly.

"And they'll fall for it again, you think?"

"They aren't paying attention to Malfoy. They're looking for you. No one is even going to bat an eye if Malfoy junior develops a drinking problem." He said, crossing his arms. Draco was looking between them as if they had all grown extra heads. Lucius was quiet, watching with hooded eyes and a blank expression.

"And if I suddenly stop going on raids?" Harry asked.

"You will still accompany the Death Eaters. In fact, you will tonight. Any other time, Draco will take your place and you will leave the school."

Harry was unconsciously pulling at his restraints, as he usually did.

"And how do I just leave the school without anyone noticing?"

"By walking out the front door, Potter." Voldemort gave him a withering look.

"Then Draco will walk back in."

"Okay, fine. Good. But why me? Why change the plan?"

'Because you have no idea how much more satisfying it will be to have the Chosen One end Dumbledore and destroy the school,' He hissed, and Harry sucked in a breath.

'Let me down and I'll show you something satisfying,' He replied without thinking. He was grateful that he had said it in Parseltongue, at least. He was surprised when the Dark Lord just laughed at him.

'I'll never let you down, Potter.' He replied, then stalked over to the younger Malfoy and yanked out some of his hair.

"You will be informed when you need to leave the school," He told Draco, and he and his father took that as a hint to leave, which they quickly did.

Before Harry could say anything, the muzzle was back.

"You will wait here until tonight, as punishment for your revolting comment."

Harry wanted to yell that it was all his fault anyway, and it had very little to do with Harry himself, but he couldn't say anything.

Sighing and preparing himself for a long, painful day, he decided he had plenty of time to try and work out the mental connection that he had with Voldemort.

Around four hours passed before he got the sense of something, just outside his consciousness, which he could almost reach out and touch. It was elusive, shying away from him at every possible last second, reminding Harry of a starved stray animal. Not afraid enough to run, just hungry enough to stay.

This odd sense made him overly gentle with it, feeling like he might startle it into non-existence if he was too forceful. He reached out tentatively with his mind, trying not to get frustrated when it withdrew.

If it hadn't drawn away from him completely yet, he figured that it just might come close enough on its own accord. With this thought in mind, he stopped reaching for it. He still felt it there, concentrating hard so that he wouldn't 'lose sight' of it.

He spent hours like this, watching this odd little thing in his head skittering about as if it couldn't decide what to do next.

Harry knew without a doubt that this was the connection he shared with the Dark Lord. He could sense it.

After almost another hour, it started edging closer. So slowly that he hadn't noticed at first.

He pretended that he wasn't paying it any attention, tried to think about something else without actually thinking about anything else. It continued creeping up, still reminding him of a very hungry stray.

In the end, his hours of hard work were interrupted by Voldemort himself. The man showed no outward signs of knowing what was going on in Harry's head, which made him wonder if the man even truly paid any mind to the connection that they shared.

The Dark Lord had used it to lure him to the department of mysteries, that much Harry knew. He wondered whether he should bring it up. He quickly decided against it, though, as the man might start trying to remove it.

At the moment, it was the only upper hand he had, it was best the man remained ignorant.

"How was your day?" The Dark Lord asked, smirking.

Harry raised his eyebrows. He was smiling, and Voldemort could tell that much from his eyes. A momentary look of confusion crossed his features before he dismissed it and pressed his wand to his forearm. He then took his usual seat on the raised dais and waited. Death Eaters started popping into the room shortly after, and Harry found himself looking for Elius instinctively, though he knew he wasn't going to find him.

The Dark Lord's followers were quickly debriefed on the raid for the night, and Harry zoned out, looking for the little stray connection in his head once more. He didn't have long to look though, and it seemed just as elusive as it had been to begin with.

The meeting was quickly brought to an end, and the Dark Lord sent everyone out of the room.

An odd mix of terror and pure lust overcame him. He knew what happened now. Voldemort would stir him up to the point where he was wild, then unleash him like some sort of attack dog.

He said nothing as he came closer, and Harry jammed his eyes shut.

Only seconds passed before ice cold fingers trailed down his neck.

'You'll do well tonight, won't you?' He hissed, and Harry nodded frantically.

'Of course you will.'

Harry wanted to ask what the point of this was. He punished the Boy Who Lived for saying something barely sexual and yet, here he was, encouraging it.

What is it that you want? Harry forced this question in the direction of the shy little thing in his head, hoping that it might carry right on through to the Dark Lord's mind.

Do you want me to control myself or do you really want to make me lose it? He pressed the thoughts harder, and was pleased to find that Voldemort paused for the barest of seconds, before removing his hand. Harry didn't open his eyes, but he heard the man leave the room.

He wasn't sure if he had actually heard what Harry had forced onto the connection, but it felt like he had.

A few moments later, he was unchained and apparated out of the manor. It was in the moment of spinning and gut wrenching pulling that he realized he had no idea where he was going. He had paid no attention during the gathering.

He pulled himself to his feet when the spinning stopped, and a wand was slipped into his inner robe pocket, another Death Eater was behind him, undoing his cuffs. He heard a low whistle behind him, and he assumed whoever was undoing his binds had seen then now raw and bleeding wounds on his wrists.

He turned to face the man and realized it was Elius.

He reached out and grabbed the teen's wrists before he could protest, and healed the wounds wordlessly. Harry barely registered that he was shaking.

"I swear I know you," He whispered, hinting once again that he was aware that he was talking to the Dark Lord himself. This seemed to bring Voldemort out of whatever trance he had been in, and he let Harry's wrists go.

The Boy Who Lived swallowed deeply, looking around himself to stop him from doing something he would regret.

He realized he knew this place.

"The Ministry?" He asked, turning back to the man with his eyebrows raised.

"Dream big, right?" Elius laughed, and Harry's eyes widened. He'd said those exact words to Voldemort before he sent Harry back to Hogwarts the first time.

It almost felt as though he wanted Harry to figure it out. He gave the Boy Who Lived a cheeky wave and drew his wand.

"Ready?" He asked, and Harry nodded, drawing his own temporary wand. His hands were still shaking.