Better!

Hi everyone! It's been a long time...3,5 years if I'm not mistaken. I had the re-read the whole story and all my plots I had written down in my many many books. (Seriously I write too much!)

I can't guarantee I will update every week or even every month, but I do want to try and finish this story. However, after all this time I don't remember everything I was planning. Especially Golovin and his golden-eyes friend elude me (not much in my books about them), so they might become less important or perhaps I will find a new use for them.

Anyhow, enjoy my new chapter!

It was nerve wrecking. Even though Draco was sitting in a comfortable chair in the house he grew up in, he had never been more ill at ease then he was at that very moment. The Dark Lord would arrive any minute now. And Draco had no idea what to expect. His mother was sitting beside him staring at the old clock in the corner of the room. Once every few minutes she would look at him, lift her hand as if she wanted to hold his, but drop it again shortly after and staring back at the clock.

He wanted to get this over with, so that he could return to Hogwarts, be with his friends and pass his exams with the rest of his classmates. But thanks to Riddle, and Harry of course, he was now forced to face the one man that actually hunted his dreams. Nightmares were more fitting. Perhaps he didn't wake up screaming like Harry had done on some occasions, but that didn't make them any less real or terrifying.

One day he would get the dark mark, follow in his parent's footsteps. But only because he had no choice. He never wanted to be a deatheater, however much he boasted about it to his friends in Slytherin of the past couple of years.

He looked up when the door finally opened. His father entered a dark look in his eyes but otherwise showing no emotions. The man was followed by the Dark Lord himself. De red eyes searched the room and landed on him.

Was that a smile? A shiver ran down his spine. If it was, it wasn't a very pleasant one. Still, he preferred it over the predatory smile Riddle showed him a couple of times over the months. At least the Dark Lord was clear about what he wanted and what he would do if they should fail. Riddle was unpredictable. You might think you got away with something, only to be punished for it a couple of weeks later. Like that time that he and Harry were flying, racing to the ground only to pull up at the last second. He had enjoyed that night, until Blaise reminded him of what would happen if the golden boy got hurt. He was sure Riddle hadn't even noticed. But he was wrong. But the older boy made it abundantly clear that something like that could never happen again.

"Draco." The Dark Lord was still looking at him. "I believe we need to talk."

"About what,...sir?" How should he address this wizard? He had never spoken to the snake-like man before.

"All in due time." How could anybody's voice be so cold? It chilled him to the bone. "But first we must ask you parents to leave. Don't you think?"

Why? What was the man going to do to him? He looked at his mother trying to keep de fear out of his eyes, but failing if his mother's eyes were anything to go on. "My Lord?" His father was standing on his other side, placing a warm hand on his shoulder. 'My Lord', that sounded quit fitting.

"Do not worry, Lucius. I will not harm your son." Again with that smile. "We are just going to have a chat." As if that reassured him! His father squeezed his shoulder, before walking towards the exit followed by his mother. The door closed behind them; leaving him with the man he feared the most.

"It has come to my attention that you have a new roommate. One that doesn't belong there." The wizard took the chair his mother had been occupying up until a minute ago, turned it around and sat down across from him.

"You mean Harry Potter, si...My Lord?" Perhaps it was foolish to play dumb, but there was no reason why he should think the Dark Lord wanted information about anybody else.

The wizard twirled his wand around in a very Riddle-like fashion. "However fascinating it is to see Dumbledore's hero in Slytherin, it was not him I was talking about." The man tiled his head without breaking eye-contact. "Come now, Draco. You know whom I am talking about."

"You mean...Tom Riddle?" He really wanted to get this over with. He was going to have nightmares for weeks now. How was he supposed to concentrate on anything if the mental image of this man haunted him? "He is a true Slytherin, My Lord. Is there a problem?"

"I just want to ask some questions about him." The Dark Lord got up from the chair and walked towards him. "Do you remember when he first appeared?"

It was hard to keep his composure with the man so close to him, to not let the fear rein his body. "Just before Christmas, if I am not mistaken."

"Did he say where he came from?"

"No, My Lord." The wizard was now standing behind him, but Draco did not have the courage to look up or behind him. He stayed almost frozen in his spot. His eyes were fixed on the chair in front of him.

"Do you know who he really is?" Was this a trick question?

"My father told me about him once. A couple of years back, when the chamber of secrets was opened." Better to be as truthful as possible. If the man wanted answers, he would get them. With or without his consent. "He is the heir of Slytherin and..."

"And?" Why was the Dark Lord asking him questions he knew the answer to?

"You, My Lord." Was it just his imagination, or did his voice sound weak and pathetic? Malfoys didn't show weaknesses.

"Indeed. And you never wondered how this was possible?"

"No, My Lord." Draco closed his eyes a moment when the man placed a hand on his shoulder, like a grandfather would do with his grandson when explaining something. "You are the most powerful wizard in Britain, who am I to question that?"

"What about his connection to Potter?"

"It's...intense." There was no other word he could use. The way they handled each other, how they talked and how they looked at each other. There was no better way to described it. He didn't understand the connection those two had. It was like they hated it each other, but at the same time couldn't live without each other.

He could feel those red piercing eyes burning into the back of his skull, almost screaming mentally that he wanted more. His answer wasn't sufficient. "They hardly go anywhere without one another. They actually never did until a couple of weeks ago."

"Do you think they are friends?" Friends? Not really. Whatever kind of twisted relation those two had, it was not friendship. And if it was it was a very sick version of it. More than once Harry had returned with bruises on his skin after a confrontation with Riddle. They were hardly ever nice to each other. A normal conversation seemed impossible. Although they both seemed to care about the other his opinion. Not that Riddle didn't walk straight over Harry's when their ideas weren't aligned. The ex-Gryffindor did the same thing, perhaps in a way that was nicer, but still...

He only realised he hadn't answered the Dark Lord his question when he felt the hand on his shoulder tighten the grip. "They seem close enough. But I don't know if it is friendship."

"Thank you, Draco." That was it? He was done? He could hardly believe it. This hadn't been too bad. But when the grip on his shoulder didn't vanish, he knew he was celebrating too soon. "I just need one more thing from you."

For the first time he looked up only to see the blood red eyes again. There was no trace of the smile from earlier. Before he could contemplate what would happen, the dark wizard invaded his mind. Images of the past year flashed before his eyes. All of them concerned Tom, but none of them held a clue to where the young handsome Slytherin had come from or what he was planning. The last memory was the one where Tom had threatened him with the snake at the very beginning. But unknown to Draco the memory was altered. This time there was no harry to save him, only Riddle's mercy that kept him from harm.

By the time the Dark Lord let go, he was breathing heavily and it felt like his head was about to explode. When he looked up again, tears close to his eyes, the Dark Lord was gone.

Harry was staring at the page of his potion book, making soft noises every once in a while. His hair was even messier than usual because he continually ran his hand through is hair. And he had a smear of ink on his face from the quill in his hand. It was never a good idea to play with your quill while concentrating a difficult matter.

"I give up." He threw the quill on his pile of books and essays next to him, sat back and closed his eyes.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Blaise was sitting across from him with a book on transfiguration in his hands.

"Potions, I hate it." He had never been really good at it. And it didn't really help that Snape was the one to teach it.

The other Slytherin chuckled softly. "You must be the first Slytherin to fail potions since Professor Snape is teaching it."

"Do you think so?" He made another soft noise in the back of his throat. "I had hoped one of the advantages of being in Slytherin was not failing potions. But Snape hates me with a vengeance."

"Not when your name is Harry Potter apparently." Blaise smiled at him while looking thoughtful at the same time. "What have you done to make him hate you so much anyway?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's not me he hates, it's my father. They were archenemies, much like me and Draco before all of this happened." That and the Malfoy heir had been the one to bully him and his friends instead of the other way around. There was unfortunately not much he could do to change Snape his opinion about him. Not even joining Slytherin seemed enough.

"What potion did you get stuck on? Maybe I can help."

"Really? Thanks!" He looked at his book again. "It's the draught of peace. It's just so complicated. I'm never going to remember all the stirs and what colour it needs to turn into. It's giving me a migraine." It was a very complicated potion and he failed already at the beginning of the year. There was also a high possibility they had to make it for their OWL's. And he really needed to pass potions if he wanted to become an auror. Not that he was even sure he still wanted to be one. Or could be if he stayed true to his promise to Tom.

And where had the Heir gone off to anyway? He had left over fifteen minutes ago without saying a word. Harry always feared his companion was up to no good when he didn't pay attention.

"I've got an idea. Why don't we go to the potions classroom and make this potion?" Blaise tucked his book into his shoulder bag before getting up. "Snape lets us use the room when we want to practice."

"I always knew he gave you guys an unfair advantage. Isn't he afraid someone will destroy his classroom or use the change to make some more illegal potions?"

Blaise laughed. "Have you seen our head of house? No one even dares. Besides only the fourth years and higher are allowed to use the classroom and he always knows who was there and what kind of potion was made."

Harry got up as well, closing his book. "Maybe he installed a camera." He grinned. Not that it would work in a place like Hogwarts. The magic would interfere with the electronics and there was no electricity. But it would still be funny. "Wait here, I'll get my potions set."

"No need." The other boy grabbed his wrist much in the same way Tom always did, but without bruising his skin. 'We can use the supplies in the classroom."

He quickly grabbed his bah before he got dragged along after his classmate. 'What is it with you Slytherins and physically forcing someone to come with you?" He had meant it as a joke, half a smile on his face, but Blaise let go of him immediately and didn't look at him. For a while they walked in silence.

"What is a camera?" The other boy asked while finally looking up again, his eyes neutral. Did he say something wrong? He had only meant it as a joke. The other boy continued like nothing had happened, so he decided to let it go for now.

"Some sort of small box that records images of the room where it's placed in." Sometimes he forgot that most students in Slytherin were pure-bloods. They grew up without knowing much of the muggle world. Magic had a solution for everything after all.

"So, it's some sort of pensive?" They were walking side by side now. Harry noticed how easy it was to talk to Blaise.

He laughed softly. "Yeah, sort of. Only you can't actually relive the memories. You have to watch them on a computer. And you don't have to be present to record the images."

"Muggles." The other Slytherin relaxed a bit again. Whatever he had said wrong earlier clearly wasn't on the other his mind anymore. "They find a solution for everything."

"Magic works a lot faster, trust me." He still had to do his chores with his hand. Doing the dishes, mowing the lawn, cutting the flowerbeds.

"You grew up with muggles, right?" They entered the potions classroom.

"Yes, with my aunt and uncle." Harry took out his potions book again, before he helped Blaise with the ingredients for the potion and the other stuff they needed.

"What is that like?" His friend held out his hand gesturing to the book.

Harry made a soft sound again. "Not great." Horrible even, but he wasn't going to tell the other boy how had had grown up. He didn't need the pity, nor did he want it. Besides, that part of his life was over now anyway. Come this summer he would live with his godfather. "But I'm never going back."

He handed his book over to Blaise. When the other boy took it, his fingers brushed past those of Blaise. Not that he paid any attention to that; he even missed the look Blaise gave him. "I heard your godfather was cleared of all charges a couple of months ago."

"I'm moving in with him this summer."

"Great, then we can throw you a birthday party at your home." They went back to the cauldron and placed all the ingredients next to it. "Cut those, will you?"

Harry took the small worms and started cutting them in little pieces. "I never had a birthday party." It was hard to hide the scepticism. He was never so lucky. "Anyway, I need to make sure Dumbles can't come barging in again. Like last time." New years – and Tom's birthday- wasn't that great a success because of the constant meddling of their headmaster. It was only afterwards that he had heard what had actually happened. But it gave him an extra reason to stay away from Dumbledore.

The other boy chuckled again. "That might not be a bad idea."

While he was stirring counter clockwise, Blaise was reading the instruction. Harry added a couple of things without thinking about it, stirring again but now clockwise. "I'm just so tired of everyone treating me like I'm a child. I can make my own decisions." He added the freshly cut worms and stirred again. "I know he has my best interest at heart, but not telling me everything didn't help me to have a normal childhood. It only made me second guess everything I was doing and thinking." Especially in his second year when he wondered why he looked so much like Tom. Why they were so similar. Now he knew the answer.

"Harry?"

He hardly took notice and just kept stirring back and forth. A sigh escaped his lips. "At least that is something positive that came out of this whole ordeal with Tom. People start seeing the real me. They're finally starting to understand what I am capable of."

"Harry…" Blaise repeated.

"What?" He looked at the other boy, not noticing the clear green colour of the potion.

"You do realise you just finished the potion without looking at the instructions once, right?"

For the first time Harry looked at the cauldron. Then he looked up grinning slightly. "It's probably rubbish."

"I don't think so. I've been watching you this whole time. I think you remembered the potion better then you thought you had."

"Maybe." He had been staring at that page for more than have an hour. It was possible he imprinted it in his mind without noticing. "Blaise…about earlier. Did I say something wrong?"

"No, it's just…" The other boy sighed. "I don't like being compared to him. I would never hurt you like he does."

"I'm sorry. I was just joking." Harry smiled at his friend. "And I know you will never hurt me. Not intentionally. You might actually be the only Slytherin I've never really hated." The grin was back again, but Blaise was still looking at him with a serious expression on his face.

"I would protect you, if you let me." The other boy took a step closer. "Even from him."

"Uhm…thanks. But I can manage Tom myself." And it had been a while since Tom really hurt him. Physically at least. He didn't even want to think about the mental torment.

When Blaise came even closer, he did a small step back bumping into the table. A moment later the other boy tilled his chin slightly up and pressed his lips against his own. For a moment Harry was simply staring in surprise at the other boy. The kiss didn't even take that long, but for Harry it felt like an eternity. Like it played out in slow-motion.

Oh Salazar.

He was still staring at his classmate when the other boy stepped back. They were still to close, and he could feel the other boy's breath on his lips. He was rather sure his cheeks had a nice bright red colour.

His heart was racing. His first kiss and it had been with a guy. And not just any guy, one of the most popular guys in Slytherin. He had no idea what to say.

"I've left the great Harry Potter speechless." There was a soft smile on Blaise his face. "I don't think even Tom has managed to do that."

"I…" He really had to stop staring.

"It's okay, Harry. I don't expect an answer right away. But think about it." The other Slytherin grabbed his stuff and walked towards the door. "I will see you later." And then the boy left, leaving him behind with his bewilderment.

Think about it? Thank about what?! Blaise had stolen his first kiss. Was the other boy playing with him? Was this some sort of trick? Perhaps Tom put the boy up to it.

Or….Was Blaise in love with him? That would be crazy, now wouldn't it? Nobody had ever been in love with him. Not that he knew of at least. Ginny had a crush on him in his second year, but the year after that it had vanished. He had been in love. With Cho. His heart still skipped a beat when he saw her, especially when the Ravenclaw was flying.

But Blaise had feelings for him? Why? The only thing special about him was the scar on his forehead and the fact that a mass murdering psychopath wanted to kill him. Why not Tom? At least his companion was smart and talented. Or Draco, who was considered handsome and had a talent in potions.

He shook his head a bit violently, trying to get the thought out of his head. He would ask Blaise later. This just had to be a trick, a cruel joke. They were Slytherins after all. He pushed himself of the table before putting the potion in a vial and leaving it on Snape his desk. Perhaps their professor could determine if his potion was any good.

Then he cleaned his cauldron and the rest of the table still lost in his own thoughts. When he was done he left the classroom to go back to their commonroom.

Tom was glad the examinations were almost upon them, otherwise it would never have been so quiet in the commonroom this early. It was bare eight and yet all you could hear was the scratching of quills on parchment and de rustling of pages. The few students that dare to disturb the peace soon realised it was a very bad idea. Like kicking a nest of vipers.

It was the perfect moment to get lost in his thoughts and ideas. The only one preventing him from actually accomplishing anything was the ex-Gryffindor besides him. The boy was making soft and irritated noises while attempting to memorize every single potion in his book. Apparently it wasn't going well.

He wanted to comment, but decided against it. It would be counterproductive to disturb his companion. So he crossed one of his legs over the other and fixed his eyes on the fireplace. Not long after he rested his head against his hand.

When Harry had taken his OWL's and passed all of them successfully –after all he didn't surround himself with idiots- then they would go back to Grimmauldplace to drop of their stuff. He wasn't planning to stay very long. The less time he had to spend with the Black brothers, the happier he would be. Aside from that, they didn't have much time. Dumbledore knew about his horcruxes and before long the man would hunt them down and destroy them. They had to get them first. The power he gathered, the more powerful he would become.

Besides it was only a matter of time before his older counterpart found out where he came from and what he was doing. Especially with Regulus returning from the land of the dead. Surprisingly Voldemort hadn't gone to the cavern at the sea yet. That would be the first place he would go to when he found out that someone knew about the presence of a horcrux there. But perhaps his older counterpart was more arrogant than he was.

Anyhow, he and Harry couldn't stay long. He knew exactly where to go to next. Little Hangleton. Where his mother had met his father. Where his family had lived. He doubted they were still there. When he had discovered his lineage in his fifth year he had wanted to destroy the muggle part of his family. Knowing himself they were dead already. Killed by him, shortly after he left school probably.

He looked away from the flames when the passage to the commonroom opened. A young girl stepped inside. He had never seen her before and yet she reminded him of someone. She walked like a girl on a mission, and yet she held her head low and let the long brown hair fall before her face.

He slightly raised one of his eyebrows. Nobody looked at her and neither should he. She was no one, unimportant to him and his cause. And yet she intrigued him. He followed her with his eyes only until she went down the stair towards the dormitories.

His eyes darted towards the clock on the other side of the commonroom. Eight fifteen. He could go and satisfy is curiosity. But then again it would be a waste of his time when she turned out to be another boring first year. Which she probably was. Although he was starting to get bored. Now that he had been distracted it was hard to focus again. And Harry was rather boring right now.

He looked at his companion. The boy had pressed a hand against his temple as if that could help him learn faster. Unfortunately it was the hand with the quill in it. When Harry dropped his hand again ink remained behind. No, bothering the boy would do him no good. Harry wouldn't play right now.

He was just about to take one of Harry's books just to have something to do, when the girl came back. She walked a little bit faster now, pressing something against her chest underneath her robe. She must have felt his eyes on her, because for a moment she looked up and their eyes met. Now this was interesting.

He waited until she had left the commonroom before he got up. Without saying a word to his fellow Slytherins he went after her. It was not like anyone would miss him right now. Besides there was no reason to involve Harry in this.

He followed her quietly. She left the dungeon, went up the stairs higher and higher. He had a pretty good idea where she was going and he wasn't planning on letting her get there. Halfway through the third-floor corridor she paused to look behind a corner. He took his chance then, grabbed her wrist and pushed her against the wall.

He placed his hands on either side of her head and looked her straight into her brown eyes. "Out for a late-night stroll, Miss Weasley?"

"Tom." For a moment she looked like the eleven-year-old girl he had come to know, but with brown her instead of the fiery red. But then her eyes changed, hate filled them. "Get of me, Riddle."

"Is that any way to speak to an old friend?" He grabbed her wrist again when she reached for her wand. Gryffindors. They always act before they think. Miss Granger seemed to be the only exception to that rule.

"Friend? You tried to kill me!" Although she probably wanted to yell, she kept her voice down. It was not yet after curfew but it would soon be. And she didn't want to be found with him of all people. Not in the position they were now. "You're a monster!" She hissed.

"You wound me, Ginny dearest." The predatory smile on his face and the red glint in his eyes told otherwise. For a moment he saw fear in her eyes, but she did not show it in the rest of her posture. Defiant to the very end, so much like his Harry. "Care to explain what you were doing in the Slytherin dormitories?"

"That's none of your business." She tried to free her wrist, but he only increased his grip. He was not about to let her go with whatever she stole. Although he could guess what it was.

"When a lion infiltrates my empire it most certainly is."

She stared at him. If looks could kill... he would have been dead a million times over. "I won't let you have him." Her voice was softer now. "He doesn't belong to you."

Of course this was about Harry. He remembered almost everything she had told him three years ago. How she had watched Harry from afar. How she had been in love with the Golden boy. She probably still was. But now she was more careful with her emotions. Harry was totally clueless. When love smacked him in the face, he still wouldn't believe it. Love. What a sickening emotion. It made you weak, vulnerable. And above all it made you do stupid things. Like stealing from him.

"Oh, but he does." He leaned in closer so he could whisper in her ear. "We even sleep together sometimes." Once and only because he had been too tired to move the boy to his own bed. But Ginny didn't need to know that.

When he stepped back a little he saw the shock in her eyes. But it was gone all too quickly, replace by defiance once more. "You're a liar, Riddle. The only reason Harry comes even close to you is that stupid diary."

"He is not some silly little girl, Ginevra. "Although after what had happened to the redhead in front of him, Harry should have known better then to talk about his feelings with him. But that was all in the past. For now they were partners. They had an allegiance that could not be broken so easily. "Now give it back before I make you."

"Never!" She finally managed to free her wrist after which she pushed him away and started running.

Foolish girl.

For the second time that night he followed her. She was fast, he had to give her that. But he was more skilled with magic. It was all too easy to catch up to her. And now she had nowhere to run. A dead-end. She turned around the diary in one hand and a basilisk fang in the other.

"I know what this is." She said. "I know how to destroy it. And then Harry will be free again."

That sneaky old fool. Dumbledore had told her about the horcruxes and had given her the tool to destroy one. So when all else failed the headmaster used his pawns to get what he wanted. Clever, but not clever enough.

He smiled and gestured towards the diary. "Go ahead. But I doubt Harry will be very pleased when he hears you ruined his Christmas gift for me."

She turned her eyes away from him towards the diary in her hand. They widened. Only now in the light of the torches she could see she took the wrong diary. This one had a dark blue leather cover, instead of the black one his old diary had. And the leather was still new, not tattered and old.

He raised his wand, prepared to kill her for what she had tried. But then he remembered his promise to Harry. He couldn't kill her, he couldn't even harm her. Not if he wanted his Golden boy to keep following him. This was a nuisance. He hated it when his playing field was limited. But then again breaking her was not harming her.

With a wave of his wand he lifted the diary and the fang out of her grasp. "Be glad you are under Harry's protection." He looked her in her eyes. "Next time I will take my anger out on him. If you ever try something like this again, you will see just how much power I have over Harry." Threatening Harry with his friends seemed to work fine. So why not try it the other way around.

She had tears in her eyes now. She knew she had lost. And perhaps she would try again, but she would fail again and she knew Harry would pay the price. He did not make empty promises. Not that he was going to let her off the hook. He would think of a proper punishment that didn't involve breaking his promise to his golden boy. Perhaps he should make sure she was no longer on his list of friends and loved once. Perhaps he should make sure he was on no one's list anymore. He had the perfect idea.