Wow! Hi guys, it's me... haha, after almost 7 months or so. I'm so sorry I didn't update for so long or even leave you guys a message - I know, I'm a prat. Like I told you guys in my last chapter, I had exams and I was way over my head in revision... Still I never gave up on Tom and Harry... lol!

What simply amazed me was what even though I had disappeared for months, you wonderful readers out there kept following - I was so surprised and SO HAPPY to see all the notifications in my inbox. Shout out to the awesome OperaEagle IcelynLacelett whose beautiful and encouraging review made me finally set aside my books and try to get back on track with Destiny: The Beginning.

Not as easy as i first thought it was, getting back into writing the fic. But I kept trying, and I will keep trying somehow. BUT I can't promise regular updates 'cause my finals are coming up and I've got to somehow eat, drink, breath and dream my revision. I really don't want to give up on this fic, not when even you fantastic people have stuck with me for...what three years? Two and a half? I don't even know!

Anyway, here's a chapter to (hopefully) make you happy... a massive THANK YOU to everyone who read the story and followed and left reviews and favorited. All of the support really helped me and will keep helping.

Hoping to have the next chapter up soon...!

...

Harry quickly made his way up to Gryffindor tower after he was sure Snape had left. Despite the pass he clutched in a slightly sweaty palm warding off a smarmy Filch, his heart was still beating rapidly.

Something wasn't right.

He didn't know what, but there was a nagging at the back of his head, one that had begun even before he had realized it was there. It had something to do with Tom, he was certain. Was Tom in danger? Or…was someone in danger from Tom?

He had no idea what to do. On the other hand, Snape was now at the top of his list of priorities. He forced his tired body to keep moving, past staring portraits, up the staircases, past a grey and black striped cat-

Wait. What?

He jerked to a stop. The cat watched him unblinkingly. He helplessly held up the parchment in his hand. "I've got a pass from Professor Snape," he blurted out. The cat swished its tail. Harry took it to mean 'Proceed', and picked up his pace. He had to get to Gryffindor tower as soon as he could, regardless of how much he wanted to keel over and sleep till next week.

Behind him, the silent cat changed back into McGonagall. "Potter," she called. "Straight to your dormitory, understood? No detours!"

Harry called back a weak "Yes ma'am!" to appease her. He had a feeling he might not obey her orders. Putting the adrenaline in his body to good use, he broke into a sprint, keeping his footsteps as quiet as he could. He paused at the bottom of the last staircase to catch his breath. Cleaning cauldrons had taken most of his energy, and Tom's little mental gift had sapped the rest. Brilliant.

He climbed the stairs, wheezed out the password to an abruptly awakened Fat Lady and stumbled into the common room.

Seamus and Dean sprang up from their seats in front of the fire in surprise. A glossy magazine cover reflected the flames at their feet.

"Ha-Harry! What are-"

Harry kept moving, towards his dormitory, his bed, his trunk. It might already be too late…

"Harry?" Dean's voice held curiosity and concern, but Harry didn't have time. Until he sagged at the bottom step to the boys' dormitory. White hot pain from his scar overpowered him and brought him to his knees. He was almost there…He couldn't even summon what he wanted, his trunk was firmly shut. Harry wished he could somehow bounce the pain from his scar through the link to the bastard's own head so he could get a taste of his own medicine. Which would be a good idea, best followed when he was able to spell his own name.

"'M fine…" he muttered curtly to the two Gryffindor boys staring at him. He lurched into his dormitory, and went to his bed. Oh, Tom was angry tonight, so very angry. And if Harry was right about the very faint suspicions that had formed about Severus Snape at the back of his head, then he didn't envy his teacher tonight. At all. Flipping open his trunk lid, he pulled out the map. Unfortunately, Seamus and Dean had followed him into the room, and were staring at him with open curiosity.

Seamus spoke. "What's going on? What's that parchment?"

Sighing harshly in frustration, Harry cast a gaze around the room. How could he open the map in plain sight of the others? Damn, he was wasting time!

On a sudden stroke of inspiration, he headed for the bathroom. "Seamus and Dean, there's nothing going on. Really. I just – uh – have a…" he trailed off, brain working frantically. "A stomachache."

The two exchanged glances, clearly disbelieving, but Harry couldn't spend any more time on them. He strode into the empty bathroom and shut the door behind him.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Ink bloomed on the parchment, forming the infamous Marauders' Map. Harry feverishly scanned every inch for the name Severus Snape, but he was unsuccessful. At least fifteen minutes of a soundless mantra on his lips later, Harry accepted defeat. Snape had well and truly vanished off the map.

Now, where was it that he went?

Of course, Harry knew he could have been mistaken or reading too much into this, but… The nagging at the back of his mind just wouldn't leave him alone. The little coincidences were adding up too well.

Harry's initial suspicions concerning the attitude of his Potions professor towards Tom. And today, Snape cutting the detention short. Sure, it had only been a matter of five minutes or so, but Snape would never release a student from detention for any reason. Snape's abrupt departure at the same time as the burst of pain from his scar. No…something was up.

But was Snape really a follower of Lord Voldemort? Harry tapped his wand against his thigh indecisively. Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts, a secret Death Eater? He scoffed. Ludicrous.

No, it's really possible… Who knows anything at all about Snape? We did suspect Snape of working for Voldemort back in first year, didn't we? And what was that Quirell told me? 'Snape does seem the type, doesn't he?' Wow, this is just getting weirder by the minute.

Harry slid down the wall and contemplated this. A sudden thought stopped him short. Was Dumbledore aware of this? Did he know Snape was leaving the castle so late night? Either way, there was nothing anyone could do about it now. Snape would probably be back the next day before anybody noticed his absence.

"Mischief Managed." He could keep an eye out for Snape to get back, but now that his adrenaline was ebbing away, the idea didn't much appeal to him. He folded up the map and stood. What he could do was see if Snape was acting strangely the next day. He had no concrete evidence to go to Dumbledore, and questioning Tom was, well, out of the question.

It was only as he was opening the door that he remembered he had scored yet another detention with Snape.

Maybe he really is a Death Eater, and he's trying to kill me with detention, he thought scowling and changing into his pyjamas. There was no sign of Seamus and Dean, thank Merlin. He wasn't sure he could have stopped himself from snapping at them.

Casting a surreptitious glance towards the drawer where he hid his sleeping droughts, he flopped into bed. He had no need of potions today. His eyes were closing right away.

...

A fire flickered low in a corner of the chamber. Oppressive darkness and a stifling silence hung over the room. About ten figures stood at one end of the room, swathed in black robes and hoods. From where he was sitting, if he looked hard enough, he could make out drops of sweat on an upper lip.

Fool.

One of the logs in the fire made a cracking sound, and one of the figures dropped his wand. It rolled away and came to a stop in the middle of the cavernous room.

Nobody moved.

He debated on summoning the spindly wand and snapping it. Then maybe he could snap the owner's neck in a similar fashion.

He tilted his head, and watched the panicked idiot cast a terrified gaze towards him. When his eyes remained fixed on him, the man threw a frightened glance at those around him. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath.

Perhaps he would cast the Cruciatus on the bumbling fool. To pass the time.

He looked down at his hands. His bony paper white hands with their discolored nails. His beloved wand. His magnificent yew wand.

When he looked up, the man who had dropped his wand was scuttling back to his place among the others, his wand clutched tightly in his hand. Apparently he had grown a backbone and moved forward to pick it up, or he had grown a brain and summoned it.

He didn't care, either way. Both would be a vast improvement.

He allowed his gaze to flit over the rest of the men assembled. They all cowered, under the weight of his gaze. He didn't mind. He liked it. They were worthless. All of them. Lacking the right to look into his eyes. Lacking the courage.

Killing curse green eyes glared into his own, filled with defiance and showing not even the slightest hint of fear–

He stilled as the door squeaked open. Or maybe the sound was from that pathetic excuse for a human, Wormtail.

He straightened. His wand slid into the loose grip he favored. The newcomer bowed low from the doorway.

His practically nonexistent lips stretched into a cruel grin.

"Ah, Severus– "

…

"–how good of you to join us!" He rose from his ornate seat. "I was beginning to worry you had lost your way." As he slowly descended a couple of steps, the tall man knelt, his dark hair shielding his face.

"My Lord, I beg your forgiveness…I was held up at the castle."

Harry walked a semi-circle around the man, trailing the bone-white wand lightly over the back his neck. It was delightful how his shoulders tensed.

"Held up, were you?" he repeated, slowing to a halt. "Explain, Severus."

The other man raised his head gradually. "I was supervising a detention when I received your summons, my Lord, as such, I was unable to take my leave immediately." He bowed from where he knelt, and Harry reveled in the obvious fearful deference. "I shall strive to ensure this error is never repeated, my Lord."

"Crucio."

He uttered the word so softly, almost a whisper, that the curse may almost have been a nonverbal one. The man still kneeling before him betrayed his anxiety with a tiny flinch, but his fear was unfounded.

The Death Eater who had earlier dropped his wand now dropped to the floor himself, writhing and screaming in agony. Harry looked on dispassionately. The individuals around the bawling man carefully inched away, trying to keep their faces expressionless, most likely fearing to find themselves the next victim of his displeasure. Even the man who had expected the curse as his punishment remained frozen in his position.

He held the curse for a few minutes more, uncaring that the man under his wand had fat tears leaking from the corners of his mask. When he finally did lift the curse, the screams died down to pathetic sobs. The rest of the Death Eaters shifted, each and every one keeping their eyes averted.

"Rise." This was aimed at the kneeling person in front of him. Harry walked back to his seat. "Lord Voldemort does not forgive mistakes. You would do well to remember that. Every one of you." He reclaimed his seat with a swish of his pitch black robes.

The kneeling figure slowly rose, bowed shortly again and melted into the crowd, carefully sidestepping the man shuddering on the floor as he did so. Harry silently let his gaze wander over the assembled before he spoke again.

"Now, Macnair…" The man addressed jerked upright. "Tell me, what of the task I set you some time ago? Have you succeeded?"

"My –my Lord…I –I searched, b –but I could not f –find them…"

Harry tilted his head, feeling satisfaction grow inside him when the bumbling idiot trailed off at the minute action.

"So you have failed me."

"M –my Lord I beg your forgiveness! They have not been seen in s –some time…I…tracking them – my Lord –"

"When I entrusted this errand to you, Macnair, I recall quite clearly how you swore not to return without those I ordered you to track down, yet here you stand, empty-handed, with nothing to show for your effort…and I wonder…I wonder if you truly put in any effort into it after all…perhaps you have disobeyed me and not searched for them at all…"

Macnair slid to his knees in despair, trembling. "Please my Lord, I tried, I tried! I would never disobey you, master, I live to serve!" His voice grew with his fear. "It is as if they've vanished!"

Harry scoffed, shooting up from his seat in one fluid move, startling everybody. "Vanished! You dare to stand in front of Lord Voldemort and spout excuses for your shortcomings!" He raised his wand menacingly. "You, who have served me for some time now…you claim they bested you?"

The Death Eater shook like an aspen leaf. "I will find them, my Lord! Please, my merciful Lord, I beg you to give me a few days more – I will not disappoint you, I will drag them back from whatever hole they have crawled into, I will lay them at your feet, my Lord, I will-"

The hiss which escaped Harry's lips frightened him into silence. "Empty words!" he hissed venomously. "I have yet to see you – any of you – carry out my wishes to my satisfaction! Worthless…"

"My L –lord, p –please f –forgive us–l"

The Death Eater who had stuttered out this plea went down in a tangle of flailing limbs when Harry turned and hit him with a red beam and a snarl of "Crucio!" Harry let the Death Eater thrash about in unbearable pain, while he took a moment to stabilize himself. Then–

"Why is it that you all continue to disappoint me so? Have I not been clear in my instructions?"

Hurried nods of heads, a brave few murmuring 'Yes, my Lord'.

He had gradually moved forward as he spoke. His form, already difficult to discern from the shadows, blurred even more as the flames in the single fireplace leapt higher, creating taller shadows which blended into his outline. "I will not tolerate any more failures." His robes swirled behind him forebodingly. "I will make an example of any who dare to show themselves to me to bring me displeasure…I will not be lenient with those who earn my ire…" He glided around the masked wizards, his ears picking up the harsh exhales and the stifled whimpers and the hitched breaths. His nostrils flared, breathing in the pungent scent of their terror.

"Am I to assume that the rest of you have failed as well?" he questioned in his high whispery voice. The Death Eaters all flinched. He watched as all of them shook their heads fervently, barring Macnair…and one other cowering man in the corner. He swooped down on the unfortunate coward at once, feeling a faint sense of vindictive amusement when his converged followers scattered in frenzy away from him.

Quick as a serpent, he whipped off the mask, leaving the square face exposed. Fearful eyes dropped to the floor in deference, while his forehead was damp with cold sweat. Blonde hair stuck to the back of his neck with the drops of perspiration.

"Thorfinn Rowle!" He hissed out the name, and the man immediately dropped to his knees, curling his spine into a low bow.

"My Lord–" The honorific was spoken in a hoarse whisper. Harry's eyes glittered with sadistic amusement – clearly the Death Eater had been stewing in fear for a while.

He studied Rowle for a minute.

"Well?" Harry said at length. He kept his voice relatively calm, in contrast to the angered tones he knew his followers had expected. "What about you, Thorfinn?"

The man took a shuddering breath. "I beg mercy, my Lord. I…I failed in my task. I have failed you." He bowed so low that his forehead touched the hem of Harry's robes. "Forgive me, my Lord…" He swallowed audibly.

Harry remained silent for some time, and eventually the surrounding Death Eaters began to shift in consternation. Finally he turned and agonizingly slowly made his way to his seat. Not looking at anyone, he instead stood watching the fire. But he was very aware of every single person in the room.

Another oppressive silence fell. Rowle remained in his subservient position. Nobody moved if they could help it.

Out of the blue, Harry spun, rage coursing through him, his pale wand raised and aimed at Rowle.

"Crucio!"

.

Behind red drapes, in a bed in the Gryffindor dormitory in Hogwarts castle, jolting awake with green eyes wide open, Harry screamed.

.

Um. Yeah... How was it?