Harry's first thought as he woke was surprise that he had actually slept. For a moment this stopped his mind informing him what had caused him to wake. Lying perfectly still, he was frozen trying to work out what had so suddenly pulled him from what had been a dreamless rest.

"I wouldn't do that," Malfoy's familiar voice said in a warning tone, "he'll..."

Something touched Harry's arm and he knew what was troubling him as his senses became suddenly very clear. He reacted without even thinking. He twisted where he was lying, his hand coming up to snatch what he knew was a wand pointing at his shoulder, before he dragged his legs up towards himself, coming onto his feet on the bed.

It did not occur to him to use the wand and he faced the very startled looking wizard, snarling his displeasure at the unfortunate individual.

"...see it as a threat," Malfoy finished with a definite 'I told you so' implied on the end.

Harry's instincts screamed at him to attack. He only just held on to himself as his conscious thoughts tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Harry, you are perfectly safe," the sound of one voice confirmed what his magical senses were telling him.

Grabbing on to the headboard of the bed with his free arm Harry looked across the room at Albus Dumbledore. So many emotions hit him at the same time that he began to shake.

He slowly slid down the wooden support, still clutching the wand he had taken by the wrong end. Part of him was insisting very loudly that he was in danger and he needed to rectify that, but he focused on Dumbledore's calm words. Gasping at the effort, he put the genie back in the bottle. His eyes flicked between the three people in the room: Dumbledore, Malfoy and the unknown wizard.

"Who are you?" he demanded of the stranger, needing something more to bring back the very sensitive balance in his impulse-saturated psyche.

"Auror Caveo," the man said slowly as Dumbledore nodded at him.

That didn't do a lot to settle Harry's nerves, since he did not exactly trust the Ministry or any Aurors he did not know. However, it gave his more logical aspect something to use. Before he could talk himself out of it, he threw the wand back at its owner and hunched down further against the head of the bed, instinctively making himself a smaller target.

"Leave," he said shortly.

It was too soon for his control to be tested so blatantly. What a fully trained Auror had thought he was doing waking any dark creature at wand point, Harry had no idea. If Caveo made a habit of it the Ministry was likely to be down one employee in the near future.

"I don't think you are in any position to ..." the Auror tried to protest as he retrieved his wand.

Harry snarled and growled, showing the wizard a mouth full of very sharp teeth. He wasn't really aware if any other changes occurred in his physical form, but the man took a step back.

"Perhaps is would be best for you to wait outside for a moment, Auror Caveo," Dumbledore interposed smoothly before the disagreement could go any further. "Harry has been through a terrible ordeal and we would not want anything untoward to occur because of the duress of the situation."

The Auror appeared very uncertain about that idea. The way Caveo gripped his wand in a tighter fashion, Harry was not sure the headmaster was going to win this discussion. Then he felt it; a calm, serene feeling emanating from Dumbledore and he saw the Auror begin to relax. The revelation rather than the actual influence caused him to sit down in shock.

"Harry and I will have a little chat," Dumbledore said pleasantly, "and then I am sure we will be able to clear up what happened here."

"Mr Malfoy is in custody," Auror Caveo said with a nod, "I will have to take him with me."

For the first time this really focused Harry's attention on Malfoy and he did not like it one little bit when the Ministry employee reached out and took hold of the Slytherin's arm. Malfoy appeared tired and resigned and Harry could not prevent the low growl in the back of his throat as a rather startling, possessive and protective feeling rose in his chest.

"Mr Malfoy is also perfectly safe," Dumbledore said smoothly as the Auror looked perturbed and ready to do something stupid, "he is in custody for his own protection."

Harry did not believe that for a second, but he felt the calming influence coming his way and, fighting the instinct to swat it away, he let it through his defences. It was a remarkably good feeling. He was grateful for it even though he knew he was being manipulated.

"I will notify you when Harry is calmer," Dumbledore said pleasantly, and the Auror nodded and led Malfoy out of the room.

As the two wizards disappeared behind the closing door, one source of danger disappeared off his radar, but that rather focused all of Harry's attention on the headmaster instead. This caused some very conflicting emotions to try and take precedence in his brain all at the same time: shame; hope; fear; anger and more. He wanted to scream and shout, to demand of his mentor why he had let this happen to him, but he also wanted to throw himself into the wizard's arms and beg him to make it go away, all at the same time.

"Oh, My Poor Child," Dumbledore said as soon as they were alone, sitting himself down on the side of the bed no more than a foot from Harry, "what did that monster do to you?"

Then he opened his arms and Harry went to him instantly. There was no fear in Dumbledore at all as he wrapped Harry in a paternal embrace. It meant more to Harry than any words could possibly express. He sobbed as he was held tightly and, for a moment, he was nothing but human.

The calm did not last long, however, as reality made itself known. Something in him informed him quite how much magic was flowing through Dumbledore and what a feast it would make. Added to that the slow thudding of the wizard's heartbeat called to him in a most alluring way. He pushed himself away as soon as these ideas entered his head. He was not hungry, and they were easy to cast aside, but that they were there at all frightened him.

"Don't trust me," he said shortly, wiping the tears from his face with one sleeve and moving away from his source of comfort.

Dumbledore folded his hands into his lap and just looked at Harry for a few moments.

"I would trust you with my life, Young Man," the headmaster said calmly, "no matter what magic resides within you."

"It might not be your life I decide to take," Harry shot back, suddenly annoyed.

Dumbledore's unwavering faith in him was abruptly irritating. He had to take a deep breath to stop himself acting on the emotion. He was dangerous; he'd shown that to Voldemort very distinctly. He needed Dumbledore to understand quite how lethal he was.

"How often do you influence people like you did to Caveo?" he asked bluntly, it was the least offensive way he could think of to illustrate how different he was.

Surprisingly the headmaster did not react with shock or anger, Dumbledore simply nodded.

"Ah, yes," the old wizard said in his usual calm tone, "I was led to believe you may had sensed that by your reaction. It is a talent I inherited from Grindelwald after our encounter, and one which I use sparingly. It can be unproductive when used inappropriately, but I have found that it can be most useful in diffusing volatile situations until alternatives may be found."

For a moment Harry's curiosity overcame his annoyance.

"You inherited power from Grindelwald?" he asked, shocked by the revelation.

"When two powerful wizards meet in combat to the death it is inevitable," Dumbledore explained patiently, "although it is not a fact many like to accept. Magic is energy, Harry, and it cannot be destroyed, only changed and redistributed; when a magical person dies their power has to go somewhere and with someone as powerful as Grindelwald or Voldemort a particular talent can often remain intact to be passed to another. As Voldemort passed some of his magical ability to you as a baby due to the effects of the Killing curse, so Grindelwald passed certain powers to me when we fought, and he died."

It was quite a radical piece of information to take in and something nasty occurred to Harry.

"I killed Voldemort," he said slowly and could not contain the glare he sent Dumbledore, "does that mean on top of everything else I'm dealing with him as well?"

"You, My Dear Boy," the headmaster replied, "are a unique case, since Voldemort had already passed a significant part of his abilities to you. However, it may be that you have picked up some other talents along the way. But, please try to remember that it is not Voldemort himself who may have been passed along, but his magical abilities; nothing to be afraid of."

Harry laughed at that, a humourless, cold laugh.

"The Ministry must be terrified," he said blackly, "an unclassifiable Dark creature with the power of the Dark Lord. If I was them, I'd have tried to kill me while I was asleep."

That produced the first frown from his companion, and Dumbledore actually appeared mildly upset by Harry's pronouncement. Distressingly, Harry found that part of him enjoyed the headmaster's discomfort.

"Harry," Dumbledore said firmly, "I do not pretend to understand what you must be going through, but I promise you this: you will not be going through it alone and you will not be abandoned to the Ministry. Several members of the Order are already here and, shall we say, arrangements had been made to make sure that your involvement with Voldemort's demise cannot be downplayed."

"I stuck my fingers into his chest and pulled out his heart," Harry responded snidely. "How's that for dying at the hand of the other; fulfil the prophecy okay? Don't know what the unknown power was; Voldemort knew exactly what he put into me."

Dumbledore looked him directly in the eye then.

"I think perhaps it may have been referring to your strength of character," the headmaster said evenly.

Harry really didn't know what to say to that and silence descended as he looked away, unable to deal with his own reaction.

"What about Malfoy?" he asked eventually, changing the subject in an effort to continue the conversation.

"His situation is somewhat complicated," Dumbledore admitted honestly, "due to his Dark Mark. He has also been less than forthcoming about what exactly occurred last night. If you do not mind me observing the fact; I was somewhat surprised to find Mr Malfoy on our side."

That caused Harry to smile rather coldly.

"He wasn't exactly," he observed, "he is on his own side and that hasn't been Voldemort's for some time. I saw his mother after ... when I went down to find Voldemort and I almost killed her, but she wanted to know if he was still alive. I told her to take him and leave and not come back. I don't know why they didn't."

It was difficult to admit what he had done even though the darkness in him revelled in the memory and wanted to do it again. That a part of him felt as if Malfoy somehow belonged to him was unsettling to say the least.

"What happened, Harry?" Dumbledore asked gently.

Harry looked at his hands. The memory brought with it excitement and shame in such equal parts that he had to take long seconds to gather himself.

"Did he tell you he was a prisoner?" The headmaster nodded. "Did he explain why?"

"Mr Malfoy seemed reticent to explain that particular happenstance," Dumbledore replied.

"He took the Dark Mark willingly," Harry said quietly, "but I don't think he understood what it meant. Once Voldemort had him, he wanted all of him, body and soul; Malfoy refused to be made a plaything. Voldemort imprisoned him until he complied. He never did and so Voldemort decided to feed him to his new creation; me."

He paused, taking a deep breath and fighting down the desire to destroy something that accompanied the confusion he was feeling.

"When I woke up, Malfoy explained what had happened," Harry began again, "and he looked after me when the magic started to change me. He was just lying there when I woke up, like he knew there was nothing he could do."

He had to stop again.

"The hunger," he tried to explain, "it changes everything. He was mine, the prey, and I didn't even think about stopping. I could have killed him."

"But you did not," Dumbledore said firmly.

Harry laughed derisively.

"No," he agreed, "but that didn't stop me doing other things. I did what he wouldn't let Voldemort do and then I drank his blood as well. I left him unconscious on the bed and yet he came back for me. Why did he come back?"

"Perhaps because you did not do exactly what Voldemort would have done," the headmaster said calmly. "You were under the influence of very strong magic, Harry, that you did not kill ...."

"You don't understand," Harry almost shouted, "I still am under that influence; it's never going away."

He heard his voice change as dark power flowed around his body and resonated through his chest.

"He's mine," he said before he could pull himself back under control.

Breathing hard he wrapped his arms around his chest. He could not look at Dumbledore, afraid to see the effect his loss of control would have had on his mentor.

"I can't stop it," he whispered dejectedly.

A hand on his shoulder caused him to jump, and he looked up at the now standing headmaster accusingly.

"There are ways we can help you, My Boy," Dumbledore told him in a tone which begged no argument. "Trust me, Harry, we will bring you through this."