Chapter 42 - Alive?

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Harry was pretty sure there was something off going on, but he couldn't seem to figure out what it was. He was sitting at a long dining table that was covered in a pristine white cloth and the most glorious feast. Draco was opposite him and they were at the middle of the table. On his right at one end of the table was Dumbledore and on his left at the other was Voldemort.

They were both looking at the food, but neither of them was touching it.

Looking down, Harry realised there was an ornate place setting in front of him with at least twenty pieces of cutlery, some of which he had never seen before. There were knives and forks and spoons and other things, but of different shapes and sizes. It was all very grand.

"Why don't you start, Harry?" Dumbledore asked with a smile.

"Um," Harry said staring at all the knives and forks. [Draco, which one am I supposed to use?]

[It's up to you, Love,] Draco told him with a dreamy smile.

[But I don't know what some of these are for.]

[I'm sure you'll choose correctly.]

"Come, Harry," Voldemort said in his sibilant voice, "we really must start."

"But..."

"Yes, My Dear Boy," Dumbledore added, "we can't keep everyone waiting."

Harry looked between them, trying to figure out what to do. The headmaster continued to smile at him, twinkling all the while, and Voldemort smirked in a superior manner. Harry could almost see the original Tom Riddle under all the changes the wizard had been through.

[Draco,] Harry tried again, [what should I do?]

[I can't make that decision for you, Love,] Draco replied. [I'll always be with you, but you have to choose.]

[What are we supposed to eat first?]

[Whatever you choose?]

[But what if I choose wrong?]

[It'll be embarrassing.]

Somewhere at the back of Harry's mind he thought it might be more than that.

[So help me.]

[I am.]

Desperately Harry looked towards Dumbledore.

"What should I do?"

"Choose," the headmaster said as the bread in the basket in front of him began turning into sweets.

A feeling of dread started to swirl in Harry's stomach; he didn't know where to start. He turned to the other end of the table to see what Voldemort was doing. He was still smirking and the bowl of fruit near him was beginning to turn black.

"You should try the wine, Harry," Voldemort said.

Harry reached for his goblet desperate for something to do, but when he picked it up, the contents bubbled and swirled. Drinking would give him something to do he understood, but there was something wrong with the wine. With shaking hands he placed it back on the table.

"Desert is always nice," Dumbledore said, "it's waiting on the table behind you. We won't mind if you want to start there."

Turning, Harry realised that there was indeed a table behind him and it was stacked with all sort of sweet treats. All of his favourites were there.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Oh, we have to stay at this table," Dumbledore said, still smiling, "but Draco can come with you."

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