Harry Potter 1. Prologue

**Colours of Life: Prologue **

"_Avada Kedavra,_" Voldemort said with his wand at the child in the cot.

And with those two simple words uttered, Wizarding Britain was lunged into a roller coaster of events that swept across the whole nation.

* * *

Harry carded his fingers through his messy locks as he stretch his limbs in a feline-like manner. Languidly, he got out of bed a dragged his feet to the toilets to get ready for the day, but not before he glared grudgingly at his alarm clock; no, Harry wasn't a morning person.

After a quick shower, Harry decided to settle down in the library, choosing to seek solace in its comfortable silence, from the commotion going on outside. The students of Hogwarts were exhilarated by the pending arrival of the foreign students, buzzing around the school either preening in mirrors, dolling up, or gossiping about possible champions from the other two schools. There was nobody in the library, save for Harry and Madam Pince, the librarian. Even Granger, who had the compulsive need to read nearly every single book within reach, wasn't in sight.

It was Harry's fourth year in Hogwarts and in the four years he had spent within the walls of the institution, the dark corner behind one of the shelves quickly became Harry's sanctuary of sorts. Harry often came here to avoid the hoards of students that chattered relentlessly, filling every corridor, whenever there was something going on; which was pretty often since Harry arrived.

After his first year in the new environment, Harry had quickly adapted to his surroundings; after all, it was adapt, or die. Harry's childhood thought him an array of lessons; and one was the importance of adaptability.

Having been thrust into the unloving hands of the Dursleys, Harry had to quickly learn how do all the household chores; either that or suffer the wrath of his Uncle Vernon. The would slap him, calling him useless, whenever he accidentally burnt the breakfast for their dear Dudders, or when he accidentally broke a plate, accusing him of conspiring against them to drain their money more than he already had.

When he was younger, he would wail whenever his Uncle has hit him, when his Aunt denied him food, or when they scolded him. But as he grew older, he learnt another lesson: Crying was bootless. There was no use crying, not when no one cared for his tears. It was but a display of his emotional weakness. Since he was four, Harry swore to himself that he would never again shed a tear- the Dursleys wouldn't have the privilege of seeing him so weak. After all it would only encourage their abuse.

The next year, Harry learnt another lesson he never forgot. After Harry had lost control of his emotions, and vehemently defended his deceased parents from the slurs of the Dursleys, his Uncle Vernon has decided that he was sick of Harry's "ungrateful" and "freakishness" that he dumped Harry at the doorstep of an orphanage. Harry's eyes has widened in realization that his Uncle was serious, that they were about to abandon him in a foreign environment he has no clue how to fend himself in. He desperately begged his Uncle as the walrus of a man dragged him out of the car. He even went as far as to cling onto his Uncle's legs as to prevent him from leaving, only to literally be kicked to the curb.

He learnt then, that there was no use in begging.

Harry curled up in self-pity as he wept, crouched at the entrance of the orphanage, where the matron found him later. He broke his own promise to himself that he would never cry, and on top of the distressing situation he was already in, he hated how pathetic and vulnerable he was. He was subjected to the whims of the adults simply because of how dependent on them. He had no way to look after himself at the mere age of five, and could only bare with all the abuse his "family" has thrown at him.

He learnt of the need to strive for independence.

Life in the orphanage was not much better.

Harry was fed more regularly, but his "freakish acts" left him ostracised and bullied. The matrons avoided him, whispering words that he was the demon's advocate behind his back, and the children were as ruthless, if not even worse, as the Dursleys were. For the first few weeks, Harry would fight back with every ounce of energy he had in his little body, but it was useless; he was outnumbered. Soon, he realized that there wasn't any use in reacting to the bullying he was subjugated to. He realized that the bullies thrived on his emotional outbursts and reactions.

Harry had then learnt of the wonders of nonchalantness.

Throughout the years he spent in the orphanage, he learnt how to pick himself up from the dirt people around him threw him in. He learnt how to rely on no one but himself.

Learning was something Harry deeply enjoyed. He had no control in many aspects of his life, but studies were something he had _control_ over. He could chose which subjects he wanted to dig deeper into, and with nobody to control him, he could dig as deep as he wanted into the pools of knowledge. Harry would borrow books from his school's library, immersing himself in the depths of knowledge. He felt a sort of power by simply _knowing_. He excelled in school, surpassing his peers and it made him feel like he was better than others, a feeling he loved. It wasn't only contextual knowledge that granted him a sort of _power_ he never had previously; having information of the misdeeds and ministrations of the people surrounding him gave him power over them. He could _make_ them do thing things he wanted them to do, by simply threatening to spill to knowledge of their acts.

Knowledge, was power.

* * *

_Four Years ago_

Severus Snape walked into the orphanage, surprised to find out that the great Harry Potter, the revered Boy-Who-Lived, was living in an orphanage. He was even more shocked by the ignorance of the boy to the Wizarding Society. The circumstances of Harry Potter, however, were not something Snape had expected. He had thought that the boy would have been spoilt pampered, treated like a typical pureblood heir would; like a prince. Instead, Harry was dressed in tattered hand-me-downs that seemed awfully large on the boy's petite frame. He thought that Potter would be an exact replica of his childhood tormentor, especially with the grotesque similarities the two had at first glance. Other than the boy's striking green eyes, Harry looked like a carbon copy of James Potter. Naturally, Snape sneered and assumed that the boy would be as his father was, only to be stunned by the way the boy had reacted to his taunts. Snape blatantly insulted James Potter in front of Potter, and even called him an insufferable child like his father was, expecting some sort of Gryffindor-esque act of defence towards the venomous words aimed at his father. Instead, Potter merely arched an eyebrow, stating calmly that his father and Snape obviously had an unpleasant history, one that he had no intention of getting involved in. He politely, albeit sarcastically, reminded Snape that he hadn't even known his father before the man passed away. He reacted in such a poised manner, one that Snape did not expect at all.

Like any Slytherin would, Severus Snape decided to further observe Harrison James Potter with a scrutinizing eye.

At a closer look, Harry's facial features were more of a Black's than that of a Potters. His high cheekbones and striking eye colour were signs of a typical Black. True, Lily had eyes with a beautiful shade of green, but Harry's eyes were much more vibrant than Lily's. His eyes seemed to convey every bit of emotion his expression didn't; like any other Black's. It didn't surprise Snape; after all, the boy's paternal grandmother had been a Black. There weren't many purebloods either, and so it was common for most pureblood families, especially the old ones such as the Blacks and Potters, to have relations with one another. What had surprised Snape however, was the manifestation of the Black's in the boy. He seemed to be more of a Black than a Potter, especially with the way he behaved.

After explaining everything to Harry, Snape took him to Diagon Alley, despite the requests of the boy to visit the Alley on his own, with much ire on the boy's part. He brought the boy to Gringotts, where they withdrew some money for Harry, and applied for a magical credit card of sorts, making purchases easier. He grudgingly allowed the boy to linger longer in Flourish and Bott's, but warned the boy that he wouldn't put up with wasting time allowing the boy to ogle at the wonders of Diagon Alley like many muggleborns normally would. The boy simply nodded before browsing through the different tittles with great interest. After the boy finally paid for the dozens of books he bought, fit into a bag with a bottomless and feather light charm, the pair proceeded to Madame Malkin's where the boy bought several robes including his school robes.

The boy also bought a few pair of slacks, shirts and sweaters, which he changed into, replacing the terrible clothes he wore when Snape had left him to make a trip to the Apothecary. Snape had to admit, that the boy looked incredible with the new set of handsome clothes he wore. The dark green sweater he wore over a plain white shirt brought out his beautiful, green eyes, and the boy's aristocratic features made him look like a well-groomed heir of a respectable pureblood family. He told the boy to stay around the vicinity so he could grab some much needed supplies, and also to give the boy a bit of the freedom to explore the area- though he would never admit the latter.

Snape was further surprised, shocked even, when he returned from the Apothecary with the his needed supplies, to see the boy staring longingly at a boomslang through the windows of Anguis Array. Snape tapped the Harry on the shoulder, causing the boy to jump a bit, which was a little strange as the boy seemed unusually enamoured by the snake. Most children, even Slytherins, were usually wary and afraid of snakes. It wasn't due to the scorn towards the serpents with the notion that they were evil and dark, like the Gryffindors; but rather the Slytherins ability to appreciate the dangerous beauty serpents held.

Instead, Harry asked hopefully if Hogwarts allowed serpentine familiars. Snape nodded, replying that it was fine so long the snake could be controlled by the child. He hadn't added however, that there was no way a child could have full control over the animals as there were hardly any children with actual familiars. Having a familiar required a wizard or witch, with a significant amount of magic in their cores, that was compatible to the magic of the animal itself. Animals of the magical world all held a certain amount, and type of magic, unlike the muggle animals, which made them much more intelligent than their muggle replicas.

Snape nearly gapped in astonishment when Harrison James Potter, beacon of the Light, the boy that was meant to be the Golden Boy of Gryffindor like his father, stepped out of the shop with a boomslang curled around his neck as he cooed at it lovingly and smiled up at Snape, proudly telling him that the snake's name was Parisinus. Severus Tobias Snape would have opened in jaw so wide till it dislodged if not for the fact that he was Severus Tobias Snape, cool, indifferent, stoic potions master that has a ten inch stick stuffed up his ass. Harrison James Potter was stroking his snake lovingly and silly with joy, which was nuzzling the crook of his neck, purring in satisfaction. Snakes did not _purr_. They weren't meant to be _cooed_ at. They were snakes, not kittens! And yet, there Potter was, treating the deadly snake wrapped around his neck like it was a bloody kitten!

What more, the snake that known for its aggression and was _letting _Potter treat it like some fluffy, domestic animal!

The amount of control the boy had over the snake made the shocking amount of magic his core held blatantly obvious. Serpentine familiars were rare for a reason. Snakes were highly intelligent animals, even more so than the average magical animals. They were extremely temperamental and it was next to impossible for a human to own a snake as a pet, not a familiar. Snakes held a great amount of magic, _dark oriented magic,_ making them incredibly powerful. They looked down on any human who was not their master, which included their owners, however powerful they may be. There had only been certain cases whereby a snake hadn't shown animosity towards a human other than their masters, and the other human, in all cases, also had a snake familiar; and even such cases were rare.

To have magic compatible to a boomslang, one of the most dangerous snakes in Africa, was an unmistakable reflection of the power bottled up in the small body of the boy.

He quickly collected himself as he tore his stare away from the snake, which was bearing it's fangs at him, and turned around to lead the boy to Ollivanders, but not before seeing the boy rap the back of his familiar's head lightly, hissing at it with reprimand, as if the snake would understand him. Snape hastened his pace, wanting to rush back to his labs, feeling the impending headache as his head started to throb.

After what seemed to be eons spent at Ollivanders, Snape brought the boy back to the orphanage, where the boy thanked him for taking time out to bring him to Diagon Alley. He then walked off to a safe distance away from muggles before apparating back to Spinner's End, but not before thrusting a potion for the boy's eyesight that he got after his trip to the Apothecary.

Merlin, he needed a drink, a strong one.

* * *

Harry was ecstatic when the man in strange robes revealed to him the existence of the Wizarding World. The exhilaration though, was soon dulled down by doubt, which was soon cast away. Any normal person would have been dubious of such a revelation. Most would most likely thing that the man, Professor Snape as he was introduced, was some deranged asylum escapee, but no, not Harry. Harry _knew_ he was different. He knew he had certain powers. Powers that he discovered when he was seven, when a class bully decided to physically attack him, and had been practising to control ever since. Powers that seemed _magical_. Harry would never admit it, but he finally felt like he might belong some where. He always felt different, special from everyone around him and however that stroke his ego, it bore him. He didn't have any challenge in life and he didn't have any companions.

He was lonely.

And knowing that there were other people who were also like him gave him hope, hope he wished he didn't have, that maybe, just maybe, there would be someone who would finally understand him; a friend.

Harry was so high up in the clouds that he didn't even feel insulted when Snape sneered about his father and him. Usually Harry would have been ticked, not by the fact that the man had slandered his father, but rather because this man whom he didn't even know was comparing him to a man he had no memories of. True, James Potter was his father, and he carried the genes of the man, but he didn't even remember how the man looked like.

The orphanage wiped whatever positive feelings he held for his parents. He learnt how heartless people were, parents or not. It didn't mean that simply because the child was birthed by them, that they cared for the child. Whilst his parents had passed away, not abandoned him, he didn't feel any more cared for with knowledge of the fact. His parents obviously did not care enough to at the very least assign him proper guardians should anything happen to them, not the sorry excuse of guardians the Dursleys were. They may have loved him, but he held no love for people who sent him to a hell hole, obviously knowing what sort of people the Dursleys were.

The fact that Snape knew his father also proved that his father was not a muggle, and from what he gathered from the snarls and sneers of his professor, his mother too, was a witch, and that they both were active in the war waging in Britain when he was a year old. That meant that they knew how high the possibility of them passing on were, and that morphed his feelings of disregard to them into dislike.

Harry was rather amused by the obvious bias Snape showed as he politely conveyed the message of, no I'm not my father, to Snape. No doubt his daddy dearest must have been quite the prick to the man for him to be so sour towards a boy he hadn't even met before. Snape seemed to be a bit less of an ass but more wary, or at least observant of him; but Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He was a bloody wizard and he was about to leave this boring orphanage in a week!

Snape informed him that they were to purchase his school supplies, and Harry asked if he could do it alone, in hopes that he would have more time to explore the new environment, and sneak out of the orphanage to stay in a Wizarding hotel, or whatever accommodation the Wizarding World held, since Snape told him his parents had left him a small fortune in the Wizarding Bank, Gringotts.

Much to his dismay, Snape outright denied his request, leaving no room for argument as he dragged Harry off. The physical contact and rough treatment annoyed Harry but he just kept quiet as the man led him to a distance from the orphanage, before he suddenly felt like he was squeezed in a vacuum after he heard a loud pop.

The next thing he new, he was in a pub, feeling rather queasy from the weird teleporting thing the man did. He hid his discomfort well though, both of the form of travel and rowdy crowd, as the man pulled him through till they came face to face with a brick wall. Snape tapped what Harry assumed to be his wand in a sequence Harry noted, and the wall folded horizontally, revealing what he presumed was their destination, Diagon Alley.

Harry wasn't too surprised by the whole new environment he was in; after all he expected no less of a Wizarding Society. They had magic and anything less than what he saw would be disappointing. He was did however, spare a few interested glances at the different creatures and practices. The goblins were one of the beings that perked his interest and he made a note to purchase a book on them later on. The way they got to his vault was rather fun, he felt. It was like a roller coaster, something he always heard his classmates talked about, and there was a sort of thrill the rushed through his body that finally made him feel like he was alive.

They then made their way to purchase his school books after getting other school supplies he needed. He felt like he was in paradise when he saw the rows after rows of books. He had the time of his life browsing through different books. They were all on topics he had never seen before. He grabbed a few on the Cultures, Traditions and History of the Wizarding World, Arithmancy and The Basics of Spellwork that would be required for Spellcrafting, Runes, Ancient Latin, and Magical Creatures. He wanted to know _everything_ about this new world in which he was now part of. Snape has been kind enough- as kind as the grumpy man could be at least- to let him spend more time in the store, and in turn, he decided to rush rather than take his time to go through every book leisurely like he normally would.

They then went to buy robes which Harry was more than happy to. He hated the pieces of cloth that were falling apart after being patched together time after time, and now that he has the money to, he would indulge a bit and buy the finest clothes he could, if not to rub into the faces of the other children in the orphanage. Snape told him to stay in the vicinity rather than follow the man, something he was grateful for. His professor was obviously giving him a bit of freedom to explore the area on his own and Harry was more than happy to do so. He changed out into his new clothes, throwing away his old ones, and made his way to the pet shops he had seen further down.

Harry paused when he walked by Anguis Array. From his knowledge of ancient languages, something his loved due to his passion for history, Anguis stood for snake. He saw the most beautiful creature every, whose beady black eyes, stared right back at him. He was captured by its beauty. The exotic scales, a mix of black and a green as vibrant as his eyes, covered its body and its eyes seemed to convey the intelligence of the animal.

_:Quit staring man-hatchling,: _The snake said.

_:I'm sorry, I was captured by your beauty,: _He replied apologetically.

The snake stared at him in shock, he didn't know how he knew what the snake felt, but wondered if he didn't something to offend it.

_:You speak.:_ It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

_:Yes, is it not normal?:_ He asked rather curiously, he assumed talking snakes were the norm, after all, it was the Wizarding World.

_:No, it is rare,:_ The snake hissed in reply, _:Come in and buy me master,:_ she demanded.

Again, how he knew it was a female, he didn't know.

Just then, someone tapped his shoulder, causing him to tense up and jump in surprise. He relaxed when he realized it was Snape, and proceeded to ask if he could bring a snake to school- a rather ridiculous question he guessed, from the subtle expression of shock on his professor's face.

When his professor said it was fine, he went in right away and bought the snake.

_:My name is Parisinus. Don't speak in parseltongue when around the humans, they do not take it well,: _Parisinus said as he wrapped her around his neck and felt a slight tingle upon contact of her smooth scales.

He merely stroke her in acknowledgement as he paid the shopkeeper for his new familiar.

He gained a new companion, even if it was in the form of a boomslang, as Parisinus informed him, and he felt a warm gush of emotions from the fact.

Parisinus started hissing threatens and barring her fangs as Snape stared rudely at his familiar, something that Harry couldn't blame him; she was after all, gorgeous. He reprimanded her under his breath when he turned to walk away and rapt her head lightly. She merely sneered about rude man-lings and smelly humans in return which caused Harry to chuckle. His professor indeed smelled strongly of potions, something his snake obviously did not like.

Snape brought him back to the orphanage with his snake hidden in the bag with his books, and he thanked the man before plopping onto the bed with a grin on his face and taking Parisinus out. He didn't even need his horrid glasses that kept slipping down the bridge of his nose any more, thanks to the eye-sight correcting potion his professor has thrust into his hands before they parted, sneering about his disgusting glasses.

It was the best day of his life.

* * *

A week later, he was staring at the magnificent train, coated in shiny red that had steam chugging out. He changed into his robes, so Parinsinus could curl inside them and enjoy the warmth of the heating spell he learnt how to cast a day after his visit to Diagon Alley, before finding an empty compartment to settle in. He took a book out, enjoying the comfortable silence of the compartment, which was destroyed however, the moment a red head ginger opened the door to ask if he could sit there. Harry nodded and the boy thankfully lugged his trunk in, whining about his brothers kicking him out of their compartment and the rest of them being full. He then continued to go on about the different houses, a boy name Draco Malfoy whom he evidently detested, and the evil snakes. Harry had closed his book out of courtesy, but was rather uninterested at the babblings of the boy. The last part however, annoyed him. The boy sitting across him was obviously a bias bigot. He wouldn't bother if not for the fact that he just called his familiar evil. Parisinus did enjoy threatening any human who came with a radius of a meter of him, hissing rather creative ways to kill them and main them. She did also like scaring people and chasing animals.

Harry liked to think that Parisinus was mischievous rather than evil though.

"Sorry, but snakes aren't evil. I have a familiar who's a snake and she's rather lovely," Harry snapped.

Colour seemed to drain from the ginger's face as his eye widened comically and looked away.

A pregnant silence filled the air, as the rude red-head finally decided to shut up. However, it didn't last long as the door was slammed open, much to the annoyance of Harry, as a frizzy brunette stuck her head in.

_God were all the children so rude? _

She then went on explaining that she was looking for some boy's toad, but Harry didn't pay much attention to her, distracted by her birdnest of a hair. He idly wondered if there was some creature between the thick locks of her hair.

It wasn't until he saw a hand stuck out in front, snapping him out of his musings.

"Hello, my name is Hermoine Granger," she said.

Harry didn't really care what her name was, she was irritating, why would he even want to know her? He however took her hand and quickly shook it as he replied, "Harry Potter."

"Merlin! You're Harry Potter?! I'm Ron! Ron Weasely!" The red head suddenly jumped up.

He reached out to swipe Harry's fringe away as he exclaimed, "Can I see you-"

Harry didn't even have the time to react to the other boy's question before he shot forward invasive, attempting to see his scar. But before he could touch Harry however, Parisinus got up from her slumber and coiled up in an S-shape, ready to strike were Weasely to come any closer.

_:Rude man-child don't you dare touch my master!:_ She hissed angrily.

Ron Weasely let a high-pitched shriek, that would put a girl's to shame. It was so loud that Harry was sure the whole train could hear him.

"Bloody hell mate! Keep your snake it check!" Ron yelled before shrinking back.

Harry calmed Parisinus down, who then curled back under his robes while he shrugged rather unapologetically to him. It was the idiot's fault for coming too close anyway. Where did he think Parisinus would be? In his trunk? Over his dead body she would.

"Sorry," Harry said anyway.

Harry was uncharacteristically forgiving that day, he didn't really even know why he hadn't let Parisinus bite the two annoying additions to the compartment. The other girl even helped herself to flipping through his book without any permission and sat next to Ron.

The compartment door slammed open again as two identical redheads popped in and started teasing their ickle-ronnykins. Harry couldn't even bring himself to bother any more, instead, petting Parisinus.

After the two left, Ron and Hermione started talking to him and he actually participated in their conversations, although it took every ounce of patience he had to snap in annoyance. Instead he would just grunt whenever they said anything that annoyed him, which was every sentence. The two shrugged Harry off as shy, and thought naught of his behaviour.

Soon, they arrived at Hogwarts and led by a man Harry was rather sure was a half-giant and split into groups of four as they sailed in small boats towards the castle of Hogwarts.

* * *

They were greeted by the Deputy-Headmistress, a severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses. She briefed them on the sorting after introducing herself as Minerva McGonagall, then entering the castle, leaving the children outside. A blonde boy who was poised and proud, leered at Ron and made fun of his family. Harry found it rather amusing honestly, and for some reason, a small part of him felt a bit annoyed at the blonde. He didn't know why, but shrugged it off as Professor McGonagall returned and led them to the Great Hall to be sorted.

The first years were sorted individually as Ron continued whining about some unimportant thing and Hermione reciting everything she read in her books.

When it came to Harry's turn, every stared at his direction, causing him to tense up uncomfortably. He sat on the stool to put the hat on. It barely even touched his head before it screamed, "Slytherin!"

Ron had gave him a dejected and disappointed look from across the hall at the Gryffindor table, where he was sorted to, and so did everyone else other than the Slytherins who politely clapped.

He felt a sort of unpleasantness in his chest. He felt like he had disappointed them. But he quickly pushed it away, reminding himself to not be ridiculous.

* * *

The three friends- Harry didn't even know when he thought of them as that- seemed to be rather close and everyone thought of Harry's sorting into Slytherin to be a fault of the sorting hat, especially since both of his best friends were Gryffindors.

They might have been Harry's friends, but Harry was still incredibly irritable when it came to the two of them. They were all his dislikes in personification. They were bigots, immature, obnoxious and boisterous. However, he still hung out with them, and he constantly pushed aside any snide comment he felt like sneering at them. They were after all, friends.

* * *

The first year was far too dramatic for Harry's liking. Hermione was bullied for being a know-it-all, and had hidden in the girl's lavatory on Hallowe'en, and Ron dragged him to "save" Hermione from the troll that had broken in. Harry thought the boy was ridiculous for even assuming that two eleven year olds could face against a troll. Trolls were daft, but they were tough. Harry just followed though, since Quirrell screamed that the troll was in the dungeons. However, they soon found out that the troll wasn't in the dungeon; no, it was in the first floor girl's lavatory.

"Stupefy!" He shouted, pointing his wand at the troll while Ron was screaming, throwing derby from the troll's rampage, and Hermione brawling uselessly crouched under a sink.

Harry knew it wouldn't work. He wasn't powerful enough. It took an incredibly powerful wizard to be able to stun a troll and he knew that there was no way he would be able to. But he had panicked and had shot the first spell he could think of. Much to his surprise, and relieve, however, he had somehow miraculously managed to stun the troll.

That however, was just the start of it all.

The trio often snuck out at night, getting into all sorts of trouble, thanks to Ron Weasely. Harry simply went along with him, despite the annoyance. They were friends, and that was what friends did right?

Harry had been poisoned, by Snape as accused by Ron, even though Harry doubted so. The man didn't have a reason to do so, but Hermione insisted that the only person who could brew a tasteless, scentless poison was him. Harry rolled his eyes, and thought inwardly about how stupid they were and how someone could simply purchase the poison from Knockturn Alley. Harry had luckily stuffed a bezoar he was carrying in his potions kit, which he brought as the class after breakfast was potions, and nothing serious came out of it.

If an attempt at his life wasn't dramatic enough, it turned out that his Defence professor turned out to be Voldemort, the man who was out for his life. Ron had Hermione had dragged him to the third floor corridor, determined that they had to save the Philosopher's Stone from Snape's clutches. Harry doubted that Snape had anything to do with it, but didn't care. After all, why would he give up the chance of getting to experiment and research the Philosopher's Stone? It didn't matter if Snape was out to steal it or not, he could always steal it for himself if the other man wasn't, and return it later on to say he held onto it for "safekeeping" so as to not get into trouble.

Or maybe not. After all, why should he give up the chance of possessing such a wondrous object? Harry didn't have anything against nicking things. After all, he had nicked the map from Fred and George after seeing them using it when he was trying his invisibility cloak. Harry's childhood skewed his morals. He didn't really have any qualms against "evil" deeds like stealing. He did so many times before he came to Hogwarts. There wasn't any way for him to get things he wanted otherwise and it was the fault of the owners for being careless with their objects.

Over the course of the year, Harry had developed a mistrust for Dumbledore. The Headmaster was a powerful wizard; Harry could feel it from the man's aura. But such a man had allowed uncountable accidents to occur right under his nose, and Harry felt that the man was up to something.

Said distrust was only deepened when they managed to get through the "obstacles" with ease. Hagrid has let slip how to overcome the obstacle of fluffy, and the second obstacle, devil's snare was taught in Herbology already. They were all ridiculously easy, so easy that a first year could get through them with practical ease. Ron, being the Gryffindor he is, decided to sacrifice himself and played against the chess pieces, only to be defeated. Harry took over from him, having played chess a few times with Ron before, beating him every time, and quickly got pass the board. He managed to convince Hermione to take Ron back and inform the teachers; after all he couldn't possibly nick the stone with her around could he?

He got through the flames after downing the potion, and found himself face to face with Professor Quirrell. Harry tried to make an excuse as to why he was down there but was interrupted by a voice that commanded Quirrell. Quirrell then unwrapped his turban and turned around.

Harry found himself looking at the most grotesque thing he had ever seen. There was a bloody face on the back of the man's head. It demanded to know why Harry was down there, and Harry for some reason, couldn't lie to it. It sounded amused when it found out Harry was there to steal the stone, not protect it. He then got Harry to stand in front of the mirror that was in the middle of the room.

In the mirror however, wasn't his reflection, but an image of him, inspecting the stone with fascination. Then, he suddenly felt the stone in his pocket. He grabbed it and looked at it in amazement. Before he could stop himself, he gave the stone to Quirrell. The thing behind Quirrell's head was pleased.

"Lord Voldemort rewards his followers should they please him. Tell me Harry, what do you want?" It purred.

Harry didn't find himself as panicky as he should have been. For some reason, he trusted Voldemort. He merely replied, "I want a wizards oath that you won't harm or kill me, and that you will let me research the stone."

Voldemort agreed, and thereafter fled. Harry acted as if he had been attacked and robbed off the stone he was trying to protect, and the Headmaster believed him.

In the train back, Hermione and Ron reminiscent the year, but the only thing that occupied Harry's mind was Voldemort.

* * *

If he thought his first year was bad, his second year was even worse. He was revealed to be a parseltongue while in a duel with Draco Malfoy, who had conjured a snake up. The poor snake was panicking and was in distress and it was too late to salvage the situation. Harry had already bent down to coo at the poor snake, thinking of Parisinus, and the whole school, save the Slytherins and turned against him in a blink of an eye.

Everyone started accusing him of being the next Dark Lord, and it only escalated when a series of attacks upon the student body, by what Harry quickly figured out was a basilisk. Harry wasn't really bothered by the rumours, or at least he told himself he wasn't.

Everyone, including his friends turned against him. The Slytherins never welcomed him in the first place; not when he was the reason to their families' downfall. The situation with the Slytherins took a turn for the better after it was common knowledge that he was a parseltongue. The too, thought of him to be some scheming Dark Lord on the rise and started to thread around him with more caution, instead of treating him with blatant animosity as they previously did.

His two friends however, had turned against him in a blink of an eye and accused him of attempting to brainwash them, and that he was an evil git that was out to trick them. And that hurt Harry more than he realized it would.

Harry realized, that the only reason why he even tolerated the two, why he was even _friends_ with the two, was because he was naive. The only reason why he felt hurt by his peers were his own fault. He had _allowed_ them to betray him. He had _given_ them something to betray him with. He was a fool to think that the Wizarding World would be any different from the Muggle World. Wizard and Muggles, despite all the differences, were ultimately the same; they were both humans. He was a fool for putting himself in such a vulnerable position, for allowing himself to be friends with people he disliked for the sake of comfort from the solitude he had. He shouldn't have bothered with them. He already had Parisinus as a companion. Parisinus was the only one he could hold a substantial conversation with. He spoke to her every night. He could trust her with his emotions and thoughts; after all it wasn't like she could spill them to anyone. He had such a wonderful companion, and yet, he was greedy and seeked for more. He had been unknowingly hungering for companionship of which he never had throughout the previous years, and that had rendered him vulnerable.

The more he dwelled on his folly, they more sillier he felt. He had let himself waste precious time he could have spent last year on studying, to be dragged around by his _friends_. He had allowed them to abandon him, simply by being _their_ friend.

He didn't wallow self-pity as he did seven years ago, when the Durselys abandoned him.

No, instead, he picked himself up from the dirt he was once again flung into by his peers. He had learnt much from the incident. He discovered the holes in the walls he built around his heart. With a mistake there was always a lesson learnt.

And from this mistake, he learnt one very important lesson.

His friends wanted him for his fame, and became his enemies when the famous boy became infamous.

His enemies started being friendly, because of his ability to speak parseltongue.

There were no permanent friends or were there any permanent enemies; only permanent interest.

* * *

His third year, was relatively normal if one turned a blind eye to the dementors that lurked the perimeter of Hogwarts. Apparently, Sirius Black, the man guilty of betraying his parents and resulting in their death had escaped from Azkaban and was after him. The Headmaster initially refused to allow the dementors to be in such close proximity to the children, insisting that the wards of Hogwarts was enough to keep Sirius Black away. Lucius Malfoy however, kindly reminded him of the death of Ginerva Weasley, Ron's younger sister, in the school the previous year, and that the culprit had still yet to be found.

Their old defence teacher, Lockhart, mysteriously disappeared after he exclaimed he was going to rescue the youngest member of the Weaselys. Harry was rather sure the incompetent fool fled, in fear for his own life. He was replaced by Remus Lupin, someone Snape seemed to strongly dislike. It didn't take long for Harry to figure out that the man was a werewolf. He was always gone during the full moons and Snape was dropping pretty heavy hints whenever he took over the werewolf's classes.

His third year flew by with no anomalies, until he suddenly received a letter one morning. He never received letters. He had no friends nor family members to send him letters. Harry checked the letter, to ensure the owl dropped it on the correct lap, and indeed, it was addressed to Harrison James Potter. In it, was a plain, white paper with words elegantly written in red;

_I haven't forgotten my promise to you, my child_

It didn't take a genius to figure out who it was.

* * *

Harry stood outside the owlery, having sent a letter in reply. He didn't know if Voldemort would receive it, but was rather confident the owl would have a way to delivery the message. It was due to the mysterious magicks animals had. They were around for much longer than humans had been, and much about their magical capabilities were yet to be known.

Harry leaned over the wall, looking over the forest covered by a blanket of snow. The serenity of the view and the near eerie silence throughout Hogwarts was refreshing for Harry. He'd much rather spend his time in the silence of the school than to visit Hogsmede that was as always, bustling with life.

Professor Lupin saw him, and walked up to him after sending off an owl, saying, "You look a lot like James, but your eyes, they look just like Lily's."

Harry hummed in acknowledgement and gave a nod before turning away and walking off.

"I'm sure they'll be very proud of you!" Professor Lupin shouted as he left.

Harry didn't care. He didn't need approval and acknowledgement of people who he had never knew.

* * *

It was a week into his fourth year, and the school had been buzzing in anticipation since the announcement of the Triwizard tournament Hogwarts was to host. While the students were excited about the tournament, Harry was excited about Voldemort. The Dark Lord had held a raid at the World Quidditch cup just a week back. It meant that the man was growing stronger, and that life was going to become more chaotic; more interesting.

Life in Hogwarts was dull. It was boring and the classes moved at a pace far too slow for his liking. He applied to skip a year and take his OWLs this year, which was immediately approved by the Board of Governors. After all, he topped all his classes with ease, and never received a grade that was lower than an O. Harry hated school. He hated classes. Subjects taught in Hogwarts were not only useless, but also as biased as Ronald Weasely was. It was always a clear cut between the dark and the light.

Harry had taken an interest in the Dark Arts after reading a book he got from Knockturn Alley in his second year. He was after all, a dark oriented wizard. Harry could feel people's magic in their auras, and it usually gave a good indication of what sort of a wizard the person was. Snape's magic was like the icy wind of winter; much like the man's chilly demeanour. Dumbledore's magic felt like the scorching sun in the middle of summer; far too bright that it blinded, and far too hot that it burnt. Some people however, had such weak auras, like Ron, that he wasn't able to feel their magic unless he came into contact with them. The ginger's magic was like him; plebeian.

Harry often wondered how Voldemort's magic would feel like. Ever since the man rise to the public again, Harry found that his thought often surrounded the man. Even now when he was reading, he could feel his focus shifting from the book to Voldemort. He couldn't feel magic as well as he can now when met Voldemort, but even then, the man's magic sent pleasant chills down his spine. He felt comfort in the man's magic, as unusual as it seemed. Harry should have been scared, terrorized of the man back then; especially since he was after his life. Instead, he acted like some obedient puppy around the man. Any logical thoughts were hazed by the mere warmth he felt by being around the man.

Despite Harry's fascination however, he wasn't going to blindly follow the Dark Lord. He wouldn't allow himself to become and obedient puppy like he had been when he was eleven, with pleasing the man being the only purpose in his life. He wanted to know what the Dark Lord planned to do. He wanted to know he ideals and beliefs before joining the man. Harry obviously was not going to fight for the Light; not when they've already messed up so much of Wizarding Britain. Harry hated how the ministry had banned all sorts of ancient practices and traditions without reason. He refused to call accommodating the muggleborns a reason for such a drastic ban. Harry fumed silently as he thought about the idiocy of the Ministry.

However, his train of thoughts were paused when a dreamy blonde suddenly walked up to him.

"Hello, my charm that mysteriously disappeared last night seems to be sitting here with you," she smiled as she sat across him.

Harry looked at her in confusion and she pointed to the necklace made of bottle caps sitting by the ledge of the table.

"Oh, I didn't notice it," Harry replied as he took the necklace to return it to her. He wouldn't be surprised if the girl was being bullied. After all, things to mysteriously disappear, not even in the Magical World.

"Don't worry, I'm sure it felt that you needed it more than I do. Nargles do tend to like the dark; nasty things really," the girl smiled, "I'm Luna Lovegood."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement before getting up and heading to the Great Hall for dinner. Parisinus was sleeping in his dorm, comfortably under his duvet, as usual. She hated crowds and commotions as much as he did and would avoid having to be in the Great Hall. Luckily for her though, she was a snake, not a student compelled to dine in the Great Hall. Today however, he was going to drag her along; he wasn't going to sit through the chatters that were sure to be twice, if not thrice times worse today.

* * *

A joyous laugh came from beside him. Everyone around him looked at his direction, staring at Potter who was- god forbid- laughing. The boy had snake, that was very obviously pissed the fuck off, and he was laughing like he was having the best time of his life.

None of the Slytherins had ever seen much emotion displayed by Potter before. Sure, there were times he was annoyed, peeved, or irritated but that was it. No one, save for Draco, had ever seen the Boy-Who-Live choke on his food and laugh. The laugh however, caused a shiver to run down the spines of many, Draco included. How the hell could someone be laughing as if they were just told the funniest joke in the world, when the only thing speaking to him was the deadly, enraged snake curled around his neck, barring its fangs every other minute? The Slytherins weren't sure which was scarier; Potter's snake, or Potter laughing.

Draco Malfoy, for one, decided that Harry laughing was definitely scarier. Draco got along fairly well with Harry, or so he would like to think. At least as well as one could when the other party was Potter. The boy had been different ever since he fell out with the mudblood and Weasley; a good choice in his own opinion. He seemed far more like a proper Slytherin, cunning, calm and scheming, unlike the Gryffindor he was before. He always got into trouble and snuck around with that mudblood and blood traitor. Harry had indeed been rather reserved and stoic previously, but he became even more so after the fall out. Malfoy had wanted to speak with his housemate ever since his the revelation of his ability to speak to snakes, but never really had the chance to. The only time he really had the opportunity to talk to the boy alone, was when he went back to the castle to grab his pouch, which he left in the dorms. He saw Harry sitting with his snake by the fireside, giggling- oh god he was giggling?- to his snake.

Draco asked him what his snake said, something he always wondered since he could always hear Harry speaking to his snake at night, and Potter replied with a grin, "Nothing much really, just the usual. Parisinus is just coming up with all the possible ways to kill Zaibini for corrupting her innocent ears with his lewd activities."

Merlin, Harry sure had a weird sense of humor.

Another one of the boy's bone chilling laughs rang from beside him, causing a chill to run down Draco's spine.

He really hated it when his friend laughed.

* * *

Harry could see the obvious shock in the face of his fellow Slytherins and it amused him to no end. He too, was human and had the ability to feel happy. Simply because they didn't have the ability to tickle his funny bone, meant that he didn't know how to laugh.

Parisinus glared at a first year who's mouth was wide open and said, _:Close your mouth you fool, or I will slide down you gullet and eat you inside out, then regurgitate your innards all over you.:_

_:Well that's a new method,: _Harry giggled as he nuzzled Parisinus.

_:Of course, what fun will it be if I were to kill the same way every time?:_ She replied, sending Harry into another bout of laughter.

The Headmaster was commencing the selection of the Champions.

Harry didn't really pay much attention to the man announcing the names of the Champions for each school, focusing instead, on summoning mice discretely to feed Parisinus who was threatening to slither off and catch her own.

Bending down to pick up the stunned rat, Harry nearly jumped in surprise when he heard his name being called.

"Harrison James Potter!" the headmaster bellowed.

And with that, colour started to fill the dull canvas of Harrison James Potter's life.

* * *

**I'm looking for a beta, do PM or comment, preferably with an edited, improved portion of this chapter, if you're interested!**

Parisinus stands for emerald in latin. Anguis mean snake in latin. You can refer to the link on my profile if you're curious as to how Parisinus looks like. I do admit I have a rather soft spots for snakes, especially boomslangs because of their breath taking beauty.

A/N: Do leave a comment if you spot any errors. I don't have a beta (and would really really appreciate having one) yet and am a bit unsure of certain western cultures/practices cause I'm as asian as asian gets. I'm not clueless but I still worry that what I type etc might seem a bit awkward(?)

I tried to compress most of Harry's childhood so I can get straight to the interesting parts. I don't really like having a ten chapters or so all on Harry's childhood, so yeah. It's my first fic so I hope it's fine!

-Lavi

29/06/13


	2. Chapter 1: The first task

_From previous chapter:_

_The Headmaster was commencing the selection of the Champions._

_Harry didn't really pay much attention to the man announcing the names of the Champions for each school, focusing instead, on summoning mice discretely to feed Parisinus who was threatening to slither off and catch her own._

_Bending down to pick up the stunned rat, Harry nearly jumped in surprise when he heard his name being called._

_"Harrison James Potter!" the headmaster bellowed._

_And with that, colour started to fill the dull canvas of Harrison James Potter's life._

* * *

**_Chapter One_**

Draco gaped in astonishment as Harry's name was read out. His mouth was opened so wide that he wouldn't have been surprised if it had dislodged, like Parisinus's did right next to him.

He didn't see any trace of anxiety, surprise or befuddlement in Harry's face; instead Harry looked _amused_.

He _knew_ Harry wouldn't have placed his name in the Goblet. Many entered the tournament in pursue of fame and glory; two things that Harry already had. Some, like Weasely, entered in hopes of getting their hands on the prize money, a fine sum of a thousand galleons; but Harry didn't need it either. The Potters were an old pureblood family and it was no doubt that they had left behind enough money for Harry to have lived the rest of his life in luxury, without even having to lift a single finger.

The Triwizard Tournament was _dangerous_. There was a reason as to why it had been abolished many years back, and why the age line had been drawn this time. People had _died_ from in this tournament! All those who put their names in were well aware of the risks involved. They had decided to forgo their own safety in hopes to gain eternal glory. Blatantly put, they themselves decided to put their necks on the line; to take a gamble by joining the tournament.

No doubt would Harry not have any problems getting across the age line, why would he waste his efforts doing so when he didn't even have a reason to?!

Someone had placed Harry's name in the goblet.

Someone was trying to get Harry killed, and there the boy was, amused by the situation, and composed enough not only to walk to the front without falter, but to also feed his bloody snake before doing so.

Merlin, his father was so going to hear about this.

* * *

Harry quickly fed Parisinus her rat before swiping his hands on his robes. He really hated having to touch those filthy pests. Normally, he'd let Parisinus hunt for her own prey in the Forbidden Forest. In his first year, Parisinus would bring him rats or small birds whenever she came back from her hunts, regurgitating them onto the foot of his bed. Apparently, she deemed him too skinny and decided to take upon the task of feeding him. Even now, she'd do so from time to time, but it wasn't to feed him; it was to annoy him. The first time Parisinus brought him the carcasses, he nearly gagged and instantly banished it, much to Parisinus's displeasure. He then explained to her how humans and snakes consumed different foods, which resulted in Parisinus slithering off, ranting about weird man-childs and how ungrateful they were. Since then, Parisinus would still bring him dead carcasses from time to time, solely to annoy him.

He had however, denied her hunt tonight, by bringing her here. The least he could do to make it up to her was to get her a rat or two.

After she was done with her meal, Harry draped her across his shoulders and made his way to the front of the hall. Whispers spread about the hall like an epidemic as he strolled down the aisle.

Harry was thrilled when he heard his name called. It took him a few moments to register what happened, but when it did, he grinned inwardly. No, he did not put his name in; neither had he asked anyone to. Which simply meant that someone out there was thrusting him into harm's way. It was a challenge and threat; one that Harry warmly welcomed. With every step he took, adrenaline rushed through his body.

Someone wanted him dead; and Harry was anticipating it.

* * *

"Do zey vant us back in ze hall, boy?" asked the French girl in a strong accent as she flipped her hair and looked at him with haughtiness.

_Ah, a Veela._

Harry was about to reply the Veela as a hoard of enraged adults stormed into the room while exchanging words of rage.

"Vat is the meaning of this? I never heard of ze host school being allowed two champions!"

"Foul play!"

"He must have asked an older student to put his name in the cup!"

"Silence!" Dumbledore yelled, putting a stop to the arguing adults.

"Harry, my boy, did you put your name in the Goblet?" Dumbledore asked as he grabbed Harry's shoulders, shaking him slightly.

"My _dear_ headmaster, I am _honoured_ to have you think so highly of me. However, I would just like to remind you that you had _personally_ drawn an age line around the goblet; you who is a highly accomplished wizard. As a mere fourteen year old, it shocks me to know you think of me able to not only surpass your line, but also hoodwink an ancient object," Harry replied politely as he took a step back and removed Dumbledore's hands from his shoulders.

Mad-Eye roared in laughter as Dumbledore frown in disapproval.

"My bo-"

"The boy is right _Albus_," the Headmaster of Drumstrang sneered, "how could he have done it alone? I'm sure you had a part to play in ensuring Hogwarts would have two champions."

"Pardon me sir, but in case my words couldn't penetrate through the thickness of your skull, do let me remind you that I am _fourteen_. You are treating a fourteen year old as a threat, to your champion, who may I say seems more than capable of defeating a small boy such as I?" Harry drawled as he gestured over to the Bulgarian boy.

"Viktor. Viktor Krum," the boy said, nodding at Harry.

The man's face flushed in a mixture of anger and embarrassment and looked like he was about to pounce onto Harry when his student said, "I agree with the boy, Headmaster Karkaroff. Rather than talk of cheating, should we not discuss about the boy? He is too young. It is too dangerous for him."

"We have no choice," Barty Couch said, "He is bound to the goblet."

The Bulgarian boy made a weird sort of grumble while the Veela just looked at him in disdain. The other Hogwart's champion, Ferick or something, kept silent the whole time, opting to look at him in a sort of curiosity instead.

"Well, I guess that's it then. Good night." Harry said as he left to find his familiar who had slithered off somewhere as per usual.

* * *

Harry sat by the lake with his toes dipped into the water. The school grounds were completely silent; a stark difference from the usually bustling grounds. Students were all in their classes which left the hallways and school grounds completely empty. He was excused for the day due to the Wand Weighing Ceremony compulsory for all champions to attend. He was supposed to return to classes once he was done with the ceremony, especially since he would be taking his OWLs this year, but he didn't care; classes weren't much of a challenge anyway.

Harry hated the amount of attention he was receiving from this. He imagined the tournament to be a bit more..._action_ rather than the ridiculous amounts of waiting time between each task and the pointless media coverage involved. Just minutes before, he had a shrewd journalist who nearly pulled him into a broom cupboard for an interview. And she would have succeed, having caught Harry off guard, if not for Parisinus who snapped at her. She had lunged forward at the fowl woman, sinking her fangs into her striking, red glasses. Harry took the chance and ran off, laughing his ass off on the way. It was a miracle he didn't roll down the stairs, considering how hard he was laughing. Parisinus keep ranting about the woman, complaining about everything, from her clothes to her scent. She even went as far as to compare the woman with Dumbledore!

Harry let Parisinus slither off into the forest to hunt for prey as he sat by the lake. She hissed to herself about red glasses clashing with purple robes, causing Harry to let out a giggle again. It was hilarious when Parisinus was mad.

The past week had been _horrible_. He couldn't find peace anywhere; not even the corner in the library. People were constantly whispering around him, sending him not-so-subtle glances which were starting to get on his nerves. For Merlin's sake they were wizards! Could they not use a silencing charm if they were gossiping? He wasn't bothered by whatever they were saying, rather he was peeved by the constant chattering. One bunch, in particular, were the swooning fangirls of Viktor Krum. He seemed to have the '_fourtune_' of running into him whenever he was in the library.

_Ah speak of the devil. _Harry thought as someone asked, "May I sit here?"

He turned around and didn't see the usual bunch of hormonal teenage girls trailing behind, so he just nodded.

"I never caught your name," Krum said, leaning forward, towards him.

"Harrison Potter," Harry replied curtly.

The two fell into a comfortable silence as they both soaked in the serenity of the castle grounds.

Moments later, Parisinus came slithering back hastily.

_:What's with the hurry?:_ Harry asked, picking his snake up.

_:Dragons.:_

* * *

Ever since the night a week before, Viktor was captured by the green-eyed beauty. The boy's elegance, composure and wit had him enthralled. Not to mention that the boy was only fourteen. Such maturity at a young age...

Viktor still felt outraged by the whole situation. The fact that the adults were squabbling over petty things such as inter-school rivalries rather than investigating the happenings made him lose all respect he held for the headmasters in the room. The boy was only fourteen! They were allowing a fourteen year old to compete in such a dangerous tournament! The Wizarding population was falling and every single magical child should be protected from such outrageous occurrences! He could tell that the boy was powerful, and would no doubt be able to cope well; but the attitude of the adults was simply intolerable.

Viktor was resolute to get to know the boy. He spent the whole week trying to track him down, only to have him running away every time. Most often, Viktor would find the boy huddled in a dark corner of the library, reading a book or doing his assignments. The moment Viktor entered the library however, the boy would flash a look of annoyance and immediately pack his things up and leave.

Today however, he promised himself not to let the boy slip away.

The Wand Weighing Ceremony was a good opportunity for him to speak to the boy and he wasn't going to miss such a golden opportunity. The boy went first, handing Ollivander his wand. He quickly passed Ollivander his wand to inspect once the boy was done with his. The boy had pocketed his wand and was about to leave, much to his dismay, when a journalist he recognized to be Rita Skeeter, grabbed the boy's arm. The boy's familiar definitely wasn't very pleased by the woman's actions and lashed out at her. Angry hisses filled the room as Rita shrieked when the snake crunched her glasses. Viktor felt his lips curl up, feeling amused by the spectacle cause by the woman. He wasn't the only one either. The boy had let out a laugh so joyous and enchanting. It sounded like a siren's cry to Viktor and couldn't help but want more of it. Suddenly though, the boy had dashed out without warning with his hissing snake wrapped around him.

Luckily for Viktor though, Ollivander was done with his wand just at that moment. Viktor grabbed his wand rudely and chased after the sound of laughter ringing through the empty halls. Finally, he found the boy, sitting by the lake alone. He sat by the boy and asked for his name.

Harrison Potter.

A name as beautiful as the boy.

The two fell into a silence Viktor thoroughly enjoyed. It was something he rarely had the luxury of having; with all the fangirls trailing him around.

After half an hour or so though, the boys snake came slithering towards them, hissing to the boy who then hissed back.

And just like that, the boy got up and left.

* * *

Harry was utterly disappointed in the first task. It was a breeze for him to get by dragons. Many people weren't aware but dragons, like snakes were able to communicate in parseltongue. It didn't matter what dragon he got; they would all respect a parselmouth. Harry watched the other Hogwart's champion pace about nervously around the tent as he waited for his turn. Before he left, he turned to the three of them and said, "Good luck."

Harry smirked at his comment. He didn't need _luck_.

The Veela sashayed out of the tent with a false bravado without even a glance back at them. By the time she finished, Harry was about to doze off. He slept stayed up last night reading and hardly managed to sleep. It didn't help that he was the last amongst the four and had to wait for more than an hour waiting for his turn.

Finally, after Krum had accomplished the task, Harry's name was called.

He walked out to the tent, face to face with a raging dragon.

"_Sonorous_," he cast, pointing to his throat.

_:Calm down, my lady,:_ Harry said as the crowd gasped.

:You speak?: the dragon replied in astonishment.

_:No, this is but your imagination. Of course I speak,_: Harry replied, rolling his eyes.

_:I apologize, it has been long since my kind has met a speaker. What do you have to ask of me, my dear speaker?:_ she asked, bowing in submission.

_:Amongst your eggs is an imposter. I am tasked to retrieve it,:_ Harry said as he walked towards the nest.

_:How dare those humans! I thank you for help, speaker,:_ the dragon replied as she allowed Harry to pick the golden egg up.

Slytherin house cheered while the rest of the audience just stared in shock.

Harry grinned at the predictable reactions of the students and took a mocking bow before leaving the stadium.

* * *

As expected, the castle was filled with celebrations from the success of the first task.

Harry had tied with Krum at forty points. Dumbledore had awarded him with six points, no doubt due to his usage of parseltongue. The French Headmistress and Karkaroff has awarded him eight and seven points respectively while Ludo Bagman and Barty Couch gave him ten and nine points.

Harry laid by the Black Lake, away from the ongoing commotion. He fiddled with the golden egg, wondering what was in it. He got up and was about to open it when a voice interrupted him.

"I suggest you don't; it screeches like a banshee."

Viktor Krum sat down beside him and Harry lifted an eyebrow.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with the rest?" Harry asked as he laid back down on the grass, staring up at the night sky.

"The same reason as you," he said.

"Why do you avoid me?" Krum asked, staring intently at Harry's face.

Harry was puzzled. Since when was he avoiding the other boy? His eyebrows shot up as he replied bemused, "My dear Krum, what makes you think I've been avoiding you?"

"Viktor. Please call me Viktor," he replied, taking no offence in the blatant sarcasm. "You would leave the moment I entered the library and the last time we were here, you ran off abruptly."

Harry laughed at the misunderstandings of the Bulgarian champion and explained, "I leave because of the girls that follow you; there's not point staying in the library when I can't get my peace. As for the last time, my snake told me of the dragons, which is why I ran off to confirm that the dragons did speak in Parseltongue."

"I apologize. Would you like to join me in my rooms instead? As champion, I have a private room on the ship with a study. It is the least I can do," Viktor offered.

Harry accepted his offer, rather pleased. After all, who was was he to say no to a quiet, private place for him to relax at?

* * *

**A/N: **I'm sorry that this chapter is so short! I wanted to separate the three tasks so it wouldn't be so awkward/confusing. I have yet to edit this so it'll be great if anyone could point out any errors I made (:

Note that this will not be Viktor/Harry.

**I'm still looking for a beta!**

Evil genus asked about Sirius and I thought that some people would be wondering so I decided to reply here instead of PM-ing her. Sirius _will _appear in the next chapter or so, so don't worry!

-Lavi

2/07/13


	3. Chapter 2: The Yule Ball

_From previous chapter:_

_"Why do you avoid me?" Krum asked, staring intently at Harry's face._

_Harry was puzzled. Since when was he avoiding the other boy? His eyebrows shot up as he replied bemused, "My dear Krum, what makes you think I've been avoiding you?"_

_"Viktor. Please call me Viktor," he replied, taking no offence in the blatant sarcasm. "You would leave the moment I entered the library and the last time we were here, you ran off abruptly."_

_Harry laughed at the misunderstandings of the Bulgarian champion and explained, "I leave because of the girls that follow you; there's not point staying in the library when I can't get my peace. As for the last time, my snake told me of the dragons, which is why I ran off to confirm that the dragons did speak in Parseltongue."_

_"I apologize. Would you like to join me in my rooms instead? As champion, I have a private room on the ship with a study. It is the least I can do," Viktor offered._

_Harry accepted his offer, rather pleased. After all, who was was he to say no to a quiet, private place for him to relax at?_

* * *

**Chapter 2: The Yule Ball**

For the past few months, Viktor would meet Harry at breakfast and would walk him to his classes and then leave to study in the library, where he would wait for Harry's classes to end. They spent their time relaxing by the Black Lake whenever Harry had a free period in between which assuaged much of their stress. The two was most often in Viktor's rooms which were in Harry's opinion, more of a suite than a room. There was a library, a potion lab and a study room adjacent to his bedroom. Viktor explained that Drumstrang took the Triwizard Tournament very seriously and was willing to supply their champion with whatever they required to help them win. Harry had snorted, telling him how things were no different for him as the champion of Hogwarts. Harry rather enjoyed the other boy's company. He was a man of few words and didn't disrupt him when he was reading or doing his work. He held the same interest as he had towards dark magic and could hold conversations with Harry that were longer than the total amount of conversations he had over the past four years in Hogwarts. He even allowed Parisinus free access to his rooms!

"Good morning," Harry mumbled as he got up, rubbing his eyes.

"Morning," Viktor replied.

Some days, like today, Harry would fall asleep while reading or would loose track of the time and opted to stay over rather than breaking the curfew. He had no qualms sleeping next to the other boy since the bed was large enough to fit at least four people, and they both kept to their own space. Viktor was an early bird who would always wake up at six in the morning to leave for a jog. Harry on the other hand, enjoyed lazing around on the huge, soft bed; something he hardly had the luxury to do. He would roll about in the bed, stretching and yawning before finally dragging his feet to the toilet to get ready for the day.

Today was no different and Viktor had already showered and changed by the time Harry woke up. The two of them left for the Great Hall as usual, discussing about the second task. They managed to solve the egg thanks the Parisinus. The two of them had been attempting to make sense of the unbearable screeching when Parisinus entered the room, threatening the swallow the egg whole and spit it back into the depths of the Black Lake where it belonged. Harry shut the thing, asking her to repeat what she said. She hissed of the fish-humans who she would hear from time to time while hunting. The two then stripped to their boxers, stepping into the bathtub where they submerged their heads under the water, listening to the screeches that became pleasant singing. They had already found out how to stay underwater for an hour; however neither of them had yet to figure out what was it that they would sorely miss. Harry highly doubt it would be a person since there wasn't anyone he would sorely miss. The two people who he might actually miss were Voldemort and perhaps Viktor, but he figured that they wouldn't be able to invite the Dark Lord to stay underwater in the hands of merpeople for an hour, and Viktor was a fellow champion which made it impossible.

They sat at the Slytherin table, eating their breakfast in silence as the students around them chatted. There were rumours that Viktor was helping him in exchange for sexual favours, that he a pillow biter who seduced Viktor. Harry didn't care much about them and neither did Viktor. After all, both Harry and Viktor were accustomed to the vicious rumours people often spread. Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived; and never once had people stopped talking about him. Viktor was the Bulgarian Seeker; jealous competitors and hardcore fanatics often gossiped about him.

They were about to leave for classes before Professor McGonagall stopped the both of them in their paths.

"Mr Potter, Mr Krum, a moment if you may," she said, leading the two into an empty classroom where the Veela, who's name was Fleur Deaclour as told by Viktor, and Cedric (apparently not Fedrick) Diggory.

"Now that all four champions are here, I would like to brief the four of you on the Yule ball," Professor McGonagall said.

"As you may know, the champions of the tournament are to start the dance. Hence, it will be required for all four of you to bring along a partner. Also, if you are not well versed in the art of dance, please do attend the classes that will be set up, so as to not disgrace yourselves," she continued, "Are there any questions?"

The four of them shook their heads and McGonagall left the class.

* * *

Viktor was incredibly pleased by how close he and Harry had become. The boy was not only beautiful, but he was also smart. He spoke of things far beyond his age, and was a great conversationalist. He was incredibly pleased to see that the boy trusted him, at least to a certain level since he was willing to lower his guard and sleep in the same room as him.

He was about to send Harry to his classes as usual before the two of them were stopped by Professor McGonagall who informed them about the Yule Ball. His eyes lit up the moment she told them of their need to bring a date. He grew up in a pureblood family and was taught every forms of socializing as a pureblood heir should; and that included ballroom dancing. He was rather sure, from what Harry had told him, that the younger boy had no prior experience of dancing. It was the perfect opportunity for him.

He stood outside Harry's class, waiting for Harry to finish his classes, as he came up with the perfect plan.

* * *

The two boys sat by a quaint area by the lake, right beside the Forbidden Forest. Viktor was waiting for him outside of his classroom as usual, but instead of returning to his rooms, the boy asked if they could spend some time by the lake first. Harry didn't mind as much as he previously would, perhaps due to Viktor's company. Harry threw pebbles into the lake as he watched them skid the surface, before falling into the depths with a plop, creating ripples on the calm surface. They were about to compete in the second task in three months time and they had yet to figure out what they would _"sorely miss"_.

"Harry," Viktor said, turning his attention from the lake to the boy.

"Will you go to the dance with me?" he asked.

"Sure," Harry replied casually. Harry had being thinking of ways he could avoid having to attend the Yule Ball, especially since he had to attend with a date. He wasn't close to anyone in particular from Hogwarts and having to take someone he didn't know was going to be a chore he'd much rather skip. He could have asked Draco, but he wasn't _that_ close to the boy either. He was merely the most tolerable person he knew from Hogwarts. Viktor's invitation was a relief in fact, since he wouldn't have to think of finding a date, or a way to escape the ball.

One problem however, was the dancing. He had no idea how to dance, having grown up in an orphanage, and _did not_ want to learn how to dance with the other students. As much as he hated to admit it, it was far too embarrassing. He looked down to hide the blush creeping up his face to the tip of his ears, and said meekly, "I don't know how to dance though."

"Don't worry," Viktor reassured, "I will teach you."

* * *

Dance lessons were rather fun, albeit awkward. Harry wasn't used to such close contact with a person and it was very uncomfortable for him to have someone's hand on his waist. There was once when Parisinus suddenly slid in between them, in chase of a rat, causing Harry to trip and topple over. Luckily though, Viktor had caught him on time but he still ended up on the floor, rolling in laughter when Parisinus hissed angrily after losing chase of the rat, _:Silly humans and their useless fancy movements! Wait till I bite off your limbs and have to learn how to slither like a snake! Only then will you learn true grace!:_

There was an influx in the number of invites both Harry and Viktor were receiving for the dance as Yule came around the corner. Neither had indicated that they already had a partner, which only further encouraged others more. Harry had ordered his dress robes earlier this year when it was stated as a requirement in the book list sent to them. He tailored a dark green dress robe with silver linings that, as much as a girl as it made him sound, matched his eyes perfectly. The buttons were rubies of the brightest reds which he insisted on having, despite the clash of colours. He dressed himself up and tied his hair into a short ponytail at the nape of his neck.

Viktor was already waiting for him when he exited the bathroom, clad in a wine red robe, lined with brown fur, much like his school robes. Viktor held out a rose and bowed as Harry approached him which made Harry let out an amused snort. Harry allowed Viktor to tie the rose in a crude knot on his wrist, which transformed into an elegant bracelet with a flick of his wand.

"May I?" Viktor asked, extending a hand towards Harry.

"You may," Harry smiled, grasping Viktor's hand.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was all dressed up and ready for the ball. He wore a handsome set of emerald robes made of the finest velvets, matched with a pair of dragon hide boots-which were of course also of the highest quality. He held his head up high as he strode into the Great Hall, that had been refurnished and redecorated for night, with his fiancée, Astoria Greengrass in his arm. She wore an amethyst gown matched with a pair of diamond earrings, that Draco had gotten her for Yule, and had her drawn up in an elegant bun.

He and his fiancée would no doubt be the couple of the night and all the attention would be on them. After all, who could blame those peasants for not wanting to feast their eyes on all the riches he could afford to spend on their outfits? Little did he know however, that he was so, very, wrong.

The moment the champions walked into the room, gasps and murmurs spread throughout. Harry Potter and Viktor Krum! Draco gapped at the unexpected sight. Merlin! Who would expect the two champions to get together? They were certainly spending an awful amount of time together but Harry has always strike Draco as more of an asexual person. There simply wasn't a person who could spark a sufficient amount of interest in the boy for him to be interested.

He quickly shut his mouth when he saw Harry smirked at him, and scowled back, knowing the boy was mocking his lapse of control.

Bloody Potter, this was the second time this year he had opened his mouth like some daft retard, all thanks to that boy.

* * *

Harry absolutely enjoyed the night. The astonished gasps and wide-eyed stares as he walked in with Viktor was certainly a sight he would never forget. Especially Draco, who's mouth was wide open for any passing fly to fly right in. The dramatics only escalated as the dancing commenced. He swore he heard a heartbroken sob as the waltzed by, causing him to bury his face in Viktor's robes to stiff his laughter. They settled down for dinner after a few dances and spent the time laughing at the reactions of the public. It was the first time in his life Harry's life that he had so much fun. He felt comfortable around Viktor. Viktor made him feel a way no one had ever made him feel before.

* * *

Viktor kept fiddling with the rose in his hand as he waited for Harry to finish his preparations. His nerves were calmed though, when the boy laughed at his romantic antics. The two had surprised everyone in the hall and Viktor couldn't help but feel smug that he was the one who had the privilege to escort the boy to the ball. The boy was definitely amused by the reaction of the crowd if the vibrations sent down his body where the boy's head rested was of any indication. Dinner was wonderful, especially in the company of Harry who seemed to be in an incredibly good mood. The Harry's joyous laughter put a smile on his own, usually stoic face.

When he felt as if his day couldn't get any better, Harry had wrapped his arms around Viktor's neck after they left the hall early, tired of the crowd. What the boy said after though, brought his soaring spirits crashing down back to the ground.

"Thank you for the day, it was the best day of my life. I've never had a friend before and I'm glad to have you as one, even if it's only now that I realize what you are to me."

* * *

**A/N: The chapters seem to be getting shorter and shorter. I do admit however, that it is because I'm trying to brush through the tournament and bring Voldemort back faster. D: I have been relatively free these few days, which is why I'm able to update so often but please don't expect such often updates in the future! I'll definitely try my best to update whenever I can though. **

**STILL LOOKING FOR BETA D8 **

-Lavi

2/07/13


	4. Chapter 3: The second task

_Previous Chapter:_

_When he felt as if his day couldn't get any better, Harry had wrapped his arms around Viktor's neck after they left the hall early, tired of the crowd. What the boy said after though, brought his soaring spirits crashing down back to the ground._

_"Thank you for the day, it was the best day of my life. I've never had a friend before and I'm glad to have you as one, even if it's only now that I realize what you are to me."_

* * *

**Chapter Three**

The moment Harry felt Viktor tense under his touch, he ripped his arms off and ran. The piercing chill of the December winds blew past him as he ran, perforating the nerve endings in the skin of his face. He tore open the curtains and threw himself into the comforts of his bed. Fortunately for him, he didn't run into anyone on his way to his dorm, as everyone was in the hall celebrating their Yule. He couldn't believe what he did and said. He was drunk of the overwhelming feelings of joy he had never felt before and spluttered out things that had him wallowing in regret now. What made him not only call, but tell the boy that Viktor was his friend? He didn't even consider Viktor as a friend in the first place; he neither needed, nor wanted friends.

_You know you do, you know how much you want companionship. _A voice inside him said.

He shook his head in denial; no companionship was for the weak. Only weak people succumbed to their needs for companionship and Harry was anything but weak. Hanging around Viktor however, was much more enjoyable to Harry than spending time on his own. Perhaps, Harry did regard the older boy as a friend, but it still didn't mean that he should have voiced it out. He had made himself vulnerable once again and he loathed that feeling of emotional attachment.

Dread pooled in Harry's stomach as he dragged his feet to the Great Hall for breakfast. Even if he had came to terms with his newly realized feelings for the other boy, he still felt incredibly awkward having to face him. He had be dragging his inevitable trip to the Great Hall, but eventually washed up and went to the Great Hall, albeit late. He was greeted by thousands of murmurs and stares, as he stepped into the Great Hall. He was accustomed to all the commotion, but he hadn't done anything yesterday to garner such attention. He shrugged it off and sat at the end of the table where the Year Ones were, away from the usual place he normally sat. His owl dropped off his daily copy of the Daily Prophet as he spread jam over his toast. On the cover page sat a picture of him and Viktor in an embrace- or at least what it would seem like from the angle of the shot. As if regretting telling Viktor of his feelings wasn't enough; the whole scene was now captured down and publicized for the whole wizarding world to see.

Joy.

He grabbed his toast and left, but not before glaring at the offensive newspaper.

* * *

Harry decided to skip classes that day, opting to sit by the lake instead. He'd rather take in some much needed fresh air and get away from all the nosey students than sitting through his stuffy, mediocre class. He grabbed a book on runes from his trunk and trotted down the stairs. He stayed in his bed till the first lessons commenced to avoid the ruckus, which left the common room empty. He was about to leave the Slytherin dormitories when suddenly, a surge of sharp pain pierced his scar, making him clutch his forehead in pain. It felt like minutes, even hours, before the pain subsided into a dull thrum. He wiped off the cold sweat with the sleeves of his robe before making his way to the lake.

It wasn't the first time his scar had hurt, but it was the first time it had caused him such excruciating pain. He had read up countless of books, in search for answers to why his scar hurt. Scars, even magical scars, were not meant to hurt like his did. Scars were an aftermath of an injury; not an injury on their own. He couldn't find a single clue, despite his extensive research, to what could have possibly caused the pain. Could it have something to do with Voldemort? Voldemort, was a man of remarkable skill and power, and Harry wouldn't find it surprising if the cause of the pain was him. Even though he knew who the cause of the pain most likely was, he still was clueless as to _why _his scar hurt.

He pushed the pain aside, flipping through his book instead. He had lately taken up an interest on Ancient Runes. Ancient Runes an ancient language that dated back to as long as the time of Merlin. It was an ancient, powerful form of magic, but as many historical things, most of it was long forgotten. He had chanced upon the book while browsing through a rather dubious looking bookshop along Knockturn Alley, and it sparked his interest in Ancient Runes. Most books only covered the translation of the runes and a rare few would skim through the history of it; but never did he ever find a book that was as in depth as this was. The book talked about the origins of Ancient Runes, of how and why it was made to come about and the many uses of Ancient Runes. Magic had existed long before wands had, and in the past, runes were used by wizards to channel their raw magic. Wizards would concentrate their magic and transfer it over to the surfaces they were carved on. They were a much more powerful than spells as they were an undiluted form of magic. Unlike spells, the wizards would have to channel their exact desires for the runes to work, which made runes much more specific and specialized than spells. They were permanent, for as long as they remained on the surface they were carved on. The downside to them however, was that the process of forming a rune could take long periods of time. He had initially planned to use gillyweed for the second task, but with the discovery of a book on how to form runes in Viktor's library, he decided to try crafting a rune instead.

He would either have to carve it onto his skin, or onto a pendant which he could wear around his neck during the task as a necklace. Most likely it would be the latter as rune carvings on human skin was irreversible. The human skin would absorb the magic, making it impossible for the rune to ever be erased. While being able to breath and see underwater would come in handy, having to experiment on himself was not something Harry would want to do, especially when the results were permanent. He picked up a a stone from the ground and started tracing random runes on it with his wand. It helped him to think of how he should construct certain runes. So far, he had succeeded in simple ones such as a placement rune, something which would return objects with runes carved on to a specific locus which had a matching rune carved on it. The first few tries had failed horrendously. He didn't specify _magically_ what he wanted, but instead thought of it repeatedly mentally as he carved the rune. The sense of satisfaction he felt when the stone he carved the rune on returned the the ground on which a corresponding rune was carved got him hooked onto experimenting with runes.

He was thinking about what type of run he should carve. Another downside of runes was that most only had one function. It required large amounts of magic and years of experience in rune crafting for a wizard to be able to craft a multi function rune. He had tried crafting one, but even after multiple tries, he still couldn't get it right. Ancient Runes were still a foreign form of magic of which he had little to no experience in and he didn't have the capability to construct such a complex rune. He was wrecking his brains, trying to figure out how he could use his new found form of magic in the second task, when suddenly remembered something.

Thank Merlin for the eccentric behaviours of Luna Lovegood.

* * *

Harry strolled into the Great Hall minutes before the end of breakfast, as he did for the past month, grabbing a piece of toast before leaving the Hall to prepare for the second task. He twirled the chain of bottle caps around his fingers as he waited for the rest of the champions to arrive. He had first experimented his theory of using more than one runes combined with stones, but they were too heavy. Harry couldn't cast a feather light charm on the stones as it would have clashed with the magic of the runes and so, he decided to search for lighter alternatives. He could order pieces of metal to carve the runes on, but Wizarding metal was often refined with magic which would interfere with the runes, and he didn't have access to Muggle sources. In the end, he had gone to Lovegood, much to his embarrassment, to ask the girl for bottle caps. She handed him her necklaces, informing him brightly that they were made by muggle means as Narggles were attracted to magic. It seemed coincidental, but something about her smile made him feel as if she knew what he planned to use the bottle caps for.

The runes worked as expected. The different runes blended together perfectly and Harry was incredibly pleased with the results. He had spent the past few weeks getting used to the transformation caused by the runes, and improving them. Initially, he had crafted a rune that would allow him to breathe underwater, and one more that would allow him to see underwater. But after spending some time in the lake, Harry realized how difficult it was for the human body to maneuver underwater. The human body simply wasn't designed for anything but land, and Harry decided to make his hands and feet webbed, like that of a platypus, so it would be much easier for him to swim. True enough, with the addition of the new rune, he was able to swim much faster than he could before, and he could explore the lake, and search for the Mermaid Village, without having to tire himself out too much.

He heard Dumbledore announce the start of the second task, and jumped into the water, putting the necklace around his neck. Gills surfaces on the skin of his neck, and his feet and hands elongated, becoming webbed limbs. His eyes were protected from the water by a membrane, much like that of reptiles, and he was able to navigate the waters with ease. Deaclour and Diggory were lagging behind, both using a bubble head charm to breathe underwater. He saw a shark zoom past him which was without doubt, the animagus form of Viktor. Viktor had been learning animagi transformation before he came to Britain, and managed to partially transform into a shark. Upon decoding the hint, Viktor decided to continue practising his transformation, something he had put aside for the tournament. Sharks were swift and deadly creatures of the sea. They were one with the waters and it was no surprise that Viktor could overtake Harry so easily.

The route to the village was a route Harry was thoroughly familiarized with, thanks to his extensive exploration of the lake. It didn't take long for the melodious voices of the mermen to reach his ears, as he neared the village. He could see a shark circling four bodies that were charmed to sleep, wrapped tight in vines that held them to the floor of the lake. He swam closer and found the boy he was meant to save; Draco Malfoy.

Merlin, it was hilarious. The organizers were so desperate to find someone he would "sorely miss" that they simply chose the boy he sat next to in the Great Hall. Harry let out a choke of laughter, which came out as ascending bubbles. He pulled his knife which he had taken a habit to bring about since he started rune crafting, and freed Draco from the vines. Viktor was facing problems with freeing his hostage and bringing him back up as a shark, and hence, decided to follow Harry who had swam back up to the surface. The moment Viktor reached the surface, he transformed back and cast a bubble head charm on himself, before diving back down to free his friend. Draco had regained conscious the moment he breached the surface of the water, and Harry released him immediately, pulling his necklace off his neck. Harry swam to the platform where the matron, Madame Promfery was waiting for him with a fluffy, white towel. She wrapped him up in it the moment he got onto the platform, which made him roll his eyes in disbelief. She was a witch; couldn't she have simply cast a drying and warming charm instead? Harry shrugged the towel off, thankfully not noticed by the matron who turned her attention to a shivering and whining blonde, and transfigured it into a robe after he cast a drying spell on himself. He extended the favour to Draco who seemed rather grateful- well as grateful as an upset Malfoy could be he guessed.

Viktor soon reached the surface with a boy who Harry recognize was Viktor's room mate back in Drumstrang, followed by Diggory with a petite Asian girl, and a sobbing Deaclour. Apparently the mermen denied her entry to the village and had attacked her when she attempted to force her way in. Too bad for the Veela, Mermen and Veelas were known to have a long running feud, and it wasn't surprising that they had denied her entry, even if she wasn't a full Veela.

Ludo Bagman announced the results and Draco complained about manhandling and kidnapping old coots and their unethical treatment towards children.

"My father will here about this!" he heard Draco say as he turned to leave, but a large, familiar hand rested on his shoulder, putting his footsteps to a halt.

"May I have a bit of your time?"


	5. Chapter 4: The final task

_Ludo Bagman announced the results and Draco complained about manhandling and kidnapping old coots and their unethical treatment towards children._

_"My father will here about this!" he heard Draco say as he turned to leave, but a large, familiar hand rested on his shoulder, putting his footsteps to a halt._

_"May I have a bit of your time?"_

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Viktor was nervous.

He couldn't understand why Harry had ran away from him after the Yule Ball. Indeed, he was upset over being considered as only a friend, but he had made sure not to show it. He was glad to be Harry's friend, but he just wanted to be more...

Could it be that Harry found out? That he felt disgusted by his feelings for him?

Viktor didn't know and wanted to confront Harry the day after, but the blasted article ruined all chances of reconcile.

He saw the younger boy leave the hall the moment he saw the Prophet, and as expected the reaction was, he still felt his heart drop at the sight of Harry walking away. He had waited outside Harry's classroom for the boy to finish his first class, but even after the last student left the class, he still saw no shadow or hide of Harry. He decided to search by the lake, the library, everywhere Harry might have been at, but still, he couldn't find the boy.

It was only today, that Viktor had finally managed to catch Harry.

"May I have a bit of your time?" he asked.

* * *

Harry let out a sigh before entering the room. Even though he knew this would eventually happen, he still didn't know how he should deal with it. He sat across Viktor, taking a sip of the tea that sat on the coffee-table. Viktor had refused to let him out of sight and Harry insisted on taking a warm bath before commencing any serious talk, and so they reached a compromise; Harry would take a bath where Viktor could watch him.

"Are you angry at me?" Viktor asked earnestly.

"No, why would I be?" Harry replied. Viktor thought he was angry with him? Why on earth would Harry be angry over him? He was more angry at himself than with Viktor; after all, it was his slip of emotional control that strained their friendship, if Harry could even call it one now.

"I thought you were ang-" Viktor said before Harry cut him off.

"Yes, you've already said that you thought I was pissed off at you. No, no I'm not. I was angry that I lost control of my emotions; that's all," Harry sighed.

"But the article-" Viktor begun when Harry cut him off again.

"Viktor. You're not the journalist so why in the name of Merlin's tits would I be angry at you over such a childish thing?" Harry replied impatiently, rolling his eyes. Honestly! Did one of those nargles Lovegood always went on about invade Viktor's brain and obstructed all intelligent thought?

"I'm sorry, I'm just not use to these..._emotions_," Harry said, snarling at the word emotion, "I just needed some time."

"So we're alright?" Viktor asked hopefully.

"No, we're all left," Harry replied sarcastically.

* * *

Harry and Viktor soon fell back to their old routine. Harry quickly forgot about the whole embarrassing debacle, and Viktor never mentioned it again. Gossip and murmur followed wherever the two went together. With the way they were stuck to each other hip to hip, it was inevitable that everyone thought that they were indeed, as the Daily Prophet said, were dating. It didn't really help that the day after they made up, the Prophet decided to print another article on them, this time with a picture of Harry entering the Drumstrang ship with Viktor. This time, he made an effort to read what it had to say, but couldn't even make it pass the first paragraph before choking on his laughter. When Parisinus slid in, asking why in the name of Salazar was he making such a racket, he recited to her how "Viktor Krum, teen heart throb, had his own heart shattered when his boyfriend, the Boy-Who-Lived, saved a luscious blonde, who was the one he would sorely miss, from the depths of the Black Lake". That day, Viktor walked back into his room to find the Boy-Who-Lived and his snake rolling on the floor in laughter- or at least what the snake seemed to be doing.

However, it wasn't simply because they enjoyed one another's companionship that they always stuck together; Dumbledore also seemed unusually interested in Harry ever since the second task.

More than once, the Headmaster would try to catch Harry alone, but the two boys never gave them the opportunity to. Harry never liked that old coot and didn't really want to have to speak to the old man alone, one on one. Harry and Viktor were on their way back to the Drumstrang ship when suddenly, an all too familiar voice stopped them.

"Harry, my boy, may I have a word?"

* * *

Dumbledore had allowed Harry free reign for the past four years but now, he was going to have to take that freedom he granted back.

Initially, Dumbledore didn't want to put the pressure of the Prophecy upon the boy; he was still so young. But now, he had no choice. The fallout between the Gryffindors and the boy had greatly worried him, but Harry didn't seem inclined to befriend the slimy Slytherins either, so he decided to let it go. He truly did wish for Harry to be able to experience the joys of growing up, but with the type of magic the boy displayed in the second task, he had no choice but to interfere.

He hoped to be able to approach the boy when he was alone, but it seemed he had no such luck. Ever since the second task, the boy and the Drumstrang champion grew even closer; a fact that greatly worried him. Drumstrang was known for allowing Dark Arts into its curriculum and no doubt, Harry had already been influenced by the other boy in that aspect. The only way Harry could have learnt about such ancient, _evil,_ magic, was through that boy. Lady luck however, wasn't shinning on him. He could never catch the evasive boy alone, and even after trying for a whole month, he was nowhere near successful.

In the end, Dumbledore had no choice but to throw aside his initial plans and seek the boy out regardless of his company.

He found the boy with the Drumstrang champion, walking back to the Drumstrang ship, and stopped the boy in his footsteps.

"Harry, my boy, may I have a word?" he asked in a grandfatherly voice.

Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at him dubiously before letting out a sigh and turning around to his companion saying, "Viktor, I'll meet you in your quarters once I'm done."

"No, I shall wait for you outside the headmaster's office," the other boy replied firmly. Harry simply gave a shrug before turning back to Dumbledore and asking him to lead the way.

"Would you like a cup of tea or some biscuits my boy?" he asked as he sat on his chair.

"Thanks, but no thanks. With all due respect, it would be much appreciated if you could get straight to the point, Headmaster. I do have to prepare for the third task. It is only a month away," Harry said impatiently.

_Such animosity_, Dumbledore thought sadly.

The twinkle in his eyes faded as he stared at the boy with a mixture of disappointment, pity and sorrow. He had made many mistakes in his life, and Harry, seemed to now be one of them.

With a sigh, he said, "It is about the second task. It was an amazing display of magic, but Ancient Runes has been classified as Dark Magic and is banned by the ministry. Where did you learn such...diabolical magicks my boy?"

"Ancient Runes sir? How does one utilized Ancient Runes? Is it not just an ancient language? I think you might have confused my use of gillyweed with the form of magic you thought I used sir," Harry said earnestly with an expression of shock and confusion. He would have truly thought the boy innocent of his accusations, but he could see beyond the boy's façade and the glint of pride and amusement shinning in the boy's eyes.

"Harry, do not think of me as a fool," Dumbledore said seriously, voice dripping with disappointment, "The necklace you wore was a definite proof."

Harry's eyes started to water and he looked down, trying to shield his tears from the prying eyes of Dumbledore.

"W-why do you doubt me so much? Is it because I'm a Slytherin?" he said, sniffing. "I have no wish to dabble into the dark arts; it was what killed my parents. The necklace was a good luck charm given to be my Luna- something about chasing away evil spirits or creatures. Can't you see headmaster? I just want friends!" Harry said as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Dumbledore's features soften as he looked upon Harry crying. Perhaps, he had once again made a mistake. The boy was after all, still so young. Perhaps he was just being paranoid, especially with Voldemort growing stronger.

"I apologize, my boy. I have misunderstood you. Do understand however, that what I did was because I care deeply for you," Dumbledore said sadly. His slip of judgement made the boy tear, something he regretted. The boy was already suffering so much, and instead of helping the boy, he was making him suffer more.

"I'm sorry for taking up you time," Dumbledore nodded as Harry stood up to leave.

Harry exited the office silently as Dumbledore fell slack in his chair, letting out a deep sigh.

* * *

Harry wiped his tears away before leaving Dumbledore's office to meet Viktor. Viktor saw the redness in his eyes and followed him silently when Harry walked out of the office and headed back to the Drumstrang ship without a word. Once they reached Viktor's quarters, Harry shut the door, setting up extra wards before he suddenly burst out in laughter. Confusion was evident on Viktor's face but Harry couldn't stop himself from laughing. Merlin! The great Albino Bumblebee (1) actually fell for his ridiculous excuse!

After he finally managed to catch his breath, Harry recounted the meeting he had with the Headmaster to Viktor causing the stoic boy to actually let out a laugh.

Dumbledore seemed to stop breathing down his neck as much after the meeting, but seemed to constantly shoot Harry pitying looks, that annoyed Harry. Much to Harry's amusement, he even offered help to Harry as the third task neared. By Harry acted his part as righteous Gryffindor, declining with the reason of fair play.

The champions, save Harry, gathered in the small classroom where their parents sat, awaiting their children's' arrival. Harry decided that it would be a waste of time for him to join the rest considering his lack of parents. Harry was sitting by the lake as usual, when suddenly, Parisinus slithered up to him, hissing urgently.

_:Master, there is a man in the forest.:_ She hissed before turning around, leading Harry to the man.

She led him to a man who was definitely off the rocker. He was addressing the tree he stood beside, giving orders to "Percy", as he called the tree. He eyed the man warily from a safe distance, when the man suddenly jerked to his direction, seemingly noticing the presence of another wizard. _Crouch._

"Get Dumbledore! Tell him- tell him it was my fault! Stop him!" Crouch exclaimed as he ran towards Harry, gripping his shoulders and shaking him violently.

Harry pushed him off onto the ground, disgusted by the sudden physical contact. Crouch fell onto the floor, and started his nonsensical talking an imaginary person, suddenly calm and composed, as if he were a different person.

He went closer and prodded the man with a stick curiously, which cause another sudden change of demeanor is Crouch.

"Voldemort! He's after him! It's my fault! Tell Dumbled-"

"Potter? What are you doing here?" Professor Moody said as his wooden leg clucked with every step he took. He turned his attention to the lunatic mumbling and shivering and frowned.

"_Stupefy_!" he whispered, as a red jet of light shot out from his wand and hit Crouch.

Harry observed the whole scene, intrigued, as Parisinus slithered up his body, draping herself over his shoulders.

"I'll handle this situation. You better report to the Quidditch pitch Potter, the third task is about to start," Moody said as he turned around to face Harry.

Harry had turned to leave when he heard the Professor call him again.

"Potter, take this," Moody said as he grabbed Harry's hand, shoving a ring onto his finger, "Keep that, you'll need it for the task."

On his finger sat a gleaming, silver snake that coiled around his finger. Its eyes glimmered, ruby red and its body decorated with emeralds. The snake was animate, and would time to time, stick its tongue out, tasting the surrounding air.

Harry tugged the ring lightly before nodding towards his Professor. It was rather amusing how Moody was ordered him not to remove the ring when he couldn't even remove it. He shrugged and thanked the man before heading towards the Quidditch pitch.

It was time for the third task.

* * *

Harry navigated his way around the maze with ease. The hedges were thick and towering, but a simple point me spell was enough to direct him to the cup. He met a number of creatures on the way, but had no problem getting past them. He had always held an interest in magical creatures and even though he dropped the elective, he was still rather knowledgeable about the creatures that resided in the Wizarding world. The only reason as to why he dropped the elective in the first place was because of the menial tasks they had to do like learning how to care for bowtruckles.

Another advantage of the hedges was that nobody could see what sort of spells he used. He didn't have to restrict himself to using only light and neutral magic. While light and neutral magic were no weaker than dark magic, he simply preferred using dark spells. He felt an unexplainable sort of _comfort_ using dark magic and he could control, and utilize his magic in a much more effective manner.

He followed the direction his wand was pointing towards as he thought about Mad-Eye Moody. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he wasn't the real Moody, and that he was most likely part of the Dark Lord's army. He could roughly guess who the man was, but he wasn't _sure_. He hated not knowing things.

He knew for one that something big was definitely going to happen today, which made him shiver in excitement.

He turned at the corner and came face to face with Cedric Diggory.

He jerked back in surprise and due to the close proximity and pointed his wand at the fellow Hogwarts champion in reflex. Something was _wrong_. The boy's eyes were clouded, his face blank, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. Diggory suddenly spun around, pointing his wand at an unsuspecting Viktor who walked in on the scene.

Viktor fell to his knees, screaming in pain as Diggory muttered the incantation, "_Crucio_."

Enraged, Harry was about to stun Diggory when suddenly the ring on his finger started burning, and before he knew it, he felt like he was sucked into a vacuum and spat onto the floor.

The ring was a _portkey_.

He laid sprawled on the floor, robes soiled with the dirt of the floor. He quickly got up and cast a cleansing charm on his unsightly appearance before examining the area. It seemed like a muggle graveyard. If his deductions were right, and it was indeed Voldemort who was behind the whole thing, why in the name of Merlin was he in a _muggle_ graveyard?

Harry could feel the crease deepening in between his brows when he suddenly felt a gush of magic in the air. He spun around sharply, staring at the approaching figure, green eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Harry Potter," the person said with a smirk, arms spread and blood red eyes shining with reflecting excitement.

Harry's face split into an impossibly bright, nearly psychotic grin.

Finally, he could see his blank, white canvas being filled with a striking colour like no other; red.

* * *

(1) Albus Dumbledore translates to Albino Bumblebee in ancient vulgar latin LOL

**A/N: Finally! 3 I have the whole fic planned out tho everything is still WIP. I'll update it whenever I have the time to so yeah. **

**I'll try to find time asap to reply to all of your comments! I really really love reading through every single one of them and they're what inspire me to write (: **

-Lavi

12/07/13


	6. Chapter 5: The Dark Lord

_He laid sprawled on the floor, robes soiled with the dirt of the floor. He quickly got up and cast a cleansing charm on his unsightly appearance before examining the area. It seemed like a muggle graveyard. If his deductions were right, and it was indeed Voldemort who was behind the whole thing, why in the name of Merlin was he in a muggle graveyard?_

_Harry could feel the crease deepening in between his brows when he suddenly felt a gush of magic in the air. He spun around sharply, staring at the approaching figure, green eyes gleaming with excitement._

_"Harry Potter," the person said with a smirk, arms spread and blood red eyes shining with reflecting excitement._

_Harry's face split into an impossibly bright, nearly psychotic grin._

_Finally, he could see his blank, white canvas being filled with a striking colour like no other; red._

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"Harrison," Voldemort drawled as he walked around, circling Harry as he surveyed the boy. A slim, long finger reached out, fingernail scratching the frame of Harry's jaw, "You truly are the most _intriguing_ boy I've ever came across."

"Boy? Could it be that you've met a girl who was even more interesting than I am?" Harry replied, in feign shock, looking scandalized.

Voldemort smirked in amusement before turning around, beckoning Harry, "Come, we do not have much time."

Despite the thick heavy black robe Voldemort, the man still managed to walk with a sort of fluidity and grace that Harry could only describe as mesmerizing.

Even more captivating was the magic that rolled off the man in thick waves.

Voldemort's appearance were by no means, handsome, by conventional standards; in fact, he merely seemed like a more humanoid version of the aberrant creature Harry saw in his first year. To Harry however, it simply enhanced the exotic nature of the dark lord. The older man was such an enigma to Harry; he was a puzzle Harry would die to get his hands on.

The Dark Lord led Harry into a dingy mansion that seemed deserted for decades. Harry was brought into a sitting room, where there was only one tattered sofa in front of a small fireplace. Voldemort eyed the moth-eaten sofa in disdain and transfigured it into a settee and sat down, motioning for Harry to sit next to him.

Multitudinous amounts of questions ran through Harry's mind as he sat by the Dark Lord. There were so many things he wanted to ask the Dark Lord. How did the man manage to regain his body? Had the philosopher's stone worked? Where had he been for the past four years? Why did the Dark Lord arrange for him to be brought here? Why were they alone? Where were they? What did the dark lord want from him? Why did he feel this way around the Dark Lord?

The Dark Lord smirked, as if he knew what Harry was thinking, and said, "Patience, child. I will indulge your curiosities in the near future but we have more important things at hand."

Harry nodded, well aware of the finite time the two had together.

"Four years ago, I fled Hogwarts with the Philosopher's stone in hand, thinking it would be that of which could grant me a body. However, I underestimated _Dumbledore_," Voldemort said, sneering at Dumbledore's name, "He had charmed the stone so that only the retriever could utilize it. Thus, I remained for another year, in the pathetic state I was in."

"However, Lady luck was shining on me. The little stunt Lucius decided to pull, helped me gained more power; this time, enough to consume the soul of that stuttering fool and completely posses his body. My magical core was fully repaired and my magic was as strong as it was before, but the useless vessel didn't have the capability to cast such powerful magic; I needed my old body," Voldemort continued.

"One of my most loyal followers returned to my side and aided me in my rebirth. His father had freed him from Azkaban to grant his wife's dying wish, and placed him under the Imperious. However, my mark nullifies the effects of the Imperious; after all, it was I who created that spell. He cast the Imperious on his father with the wand he stole from his unsuspecting father, having him resume life as per normal, and left in search for his Lord. I laid low after my rebirth, building up my forces and establishing new allies. I broke into Azkaban, releasing my faithful; I was incredibly busy throughout but there was one thing I always had one my mind," Voldemort said, red staring into emerald.

"You," the Dark Lord said as he caressed Harry's face.

The smooth tenor of his voice, the passionate look in the Dark Lord's eyes and the soft touch was more than enough to send blood rushing up his face, and a tingling, foreign feeling down his nether regions.

Suddenly, the heated look in Voldemort's eyes disappeared. He turned his head towards the direction they had came from, face breaking into a sadistic grin.

"Ah, our guest has arrived. Come," Voldemort said as he got up and headed back to the graveyard.

The walked silently along the muddy path back to the grim graveyard, where they saw a panicking figure. Harry's eyes widened in realization as they went closer.

Diggory.

The Triwizard Tournament Cup.

It didn't take long for Harry to piece everything together. The Dark Lord had already laid all the clues out for him, and piecing them together was no chore.

"Welcome, Hufflepuff, to the rebirth of Lord Voldemort," the Dark Lord announced, arms wide spread in mock welcome.

Cedric Diggory's eyes widened in realization and his wand shot up, but before he could cast a spell, the Dark Lord summoned his wand over, and snapped it in two.

"Tut-tut. That was horribly rude of you, don't you think so Harry?" Voldemort mocked in false disappointment as he slid an arm around the younger boy, pulling Harry next to him and into Diggory's view.

"H-Harrison?" Diggory gasped in shock.

Harry scowled at the uninvited use of his given name and snapped, "It is rather rude of you to use my first name without prior permission you know?"

Diggory's eyes widened further and Voldemort's grin grew even wider.

"Don't you think the boy deserves some punishment, my love? Perhaps a _crucio_ would do him some good," Voldemort asked, turning to Harry and stroking the side of his face.

It wasn't a question, rather, it was a command. He took the wand offered by the older man and pointed it at Diggory who wore an expression of confusion.

"_Crucio_."

Shrieks of pain filled the graveyard as Diggory trashed on the floor in pain. Harry had never used a curse as dark as the cruciatus. It wasn't that he wasn't willing to, but he simply didn't have a suitable practice target, nor an undetectable place. The use of such a dark curse caused pleasure and adrenaline to gush throughout his body. Lost in the thrill of the unforgivable, Harry hardly paid attention to the arms wrapped around his waist, the warm body pressed against his lithe frame, the hardness that pressed into his hip and the warm breath hissing seductively into his ear.

Voldemort suddenly placed a hand over his raised arm, causing Harry to snap to realization. Harry spun around so quickly that he found himself face to face with the Dark Lord. Their eyes met. There was a short lived surprise that flashed in the Dark Lord's orbs, but it was quickly replaced with- arousal? He couldn't help but stare at the Dark Lord's lips, wondering how they would feel on his own. He mentally slapped himself for thinking such absurd things and took a step back, increasing the distance between them.

"As much as I enjoy seeing you torture, we do not have much time. After all, we still have a Dark Lord to raise and a showdown between the Boy-Who-Lived and said Dark Lord, no? Hm, this addition to our little _party _might have to be removed so we can carry out our plans without having someone babble though. What do you think Harrison?" Voldemort asked in mock consideration.

The message was clear; Kill Cedric Diggory.

Without batting an eyelash, Harry whispered the words.

"Avada Kedavra."

The panting, whimpering boy was suddenly silent and all movements ceased. Cedric Diggory was dead.

"It seems like poor Hufflepuff died before the Boy-Who-Lived could bring the both of them back," Voldemort sighed. Harry got the message; Voldemort wanted him to make it seem as if both he, and Diggory touched the cup at the same time which had them portkeyed to a graveyard where they witnessed the rebirth of the Dark Lord.

"Poor Harry, getting his blood taken for the rebirth and seeing his schoolmate die," Voldemort said as he bent down, sliding a knife along Harry's forearm, drawing blood. He then licked the wound, sensually lapping up the blood. Harry shuddered in pleasure of the warm muscles on his skin. Merlin, what was wrong with him? What was it about the older man that made him react in such ways?

"This is where we'll have to part, I'm afraid," the Dark Lord said as he straightened his knees, wiping the blood off his lips, "I will see you this summer."

The Dark Lord plucked his wand from Harry's grasp and pushed him onto the floor. Harry crouched on the grass, one arm slung around the corpse and another reached out to grab the cup.

The moment he felt the cool metal of the cup upon the tips of his fingers, the surroundings twirled until everything was a blur and all sounds disappeared.

Before they were brought back to Hogwarts however, Harry heard the Dark Lord's parting words.

"Farewell my love; soon."

* * *

With a thump, Harry fell hard.

He clung tight onto the dead body of Cedric Diggory, bursting out in tears and incoherent sobs. He saw Dumbledore rushing over and started chanting the words Voldemort like a mantra. Dumbledore pried him off Diggory and ushered him into his office. Dumbledore tried to coerce him into telling him about the happenings when his attempts of comfort didn't work. Harry simply kept crying in hysteria. The only things Dumbledore managed to coax out of the sobbing boy were "He's back", "Voldemort" and "He killed him" before the matron came rushing into the room and dragging him off to the infirmary.

They drugged him with potions, including a calming draught and sleepless dream, which he had no choice but to force down his throat. It didn't take more than a second before he felt his eyelids droop from the effects of the potions but before sleep managed to claim him, he broke into a shit-eating grin.

* * *

**A/N: Really short chapter but I wanted to leave this for Harry and Voldemort's meeting only. In a way, this is like a teaser of their relationship etc haha.**

**Thanks to everyone who commented! It really motivates me (: **

**One comment that made my day was from Dazzled, an anon. **

**"Dazzled:Amazing. Both the story line and your writing are amazing. I honestly**  
** think I have seen more errors in a published book than I have in this story. I**  
** thank you for writing this and eagerly anticipate the next instalment."**

**zomg you have no idea how happy this made me, especially since I didn't really expect people to like this story/my writing so much. I quite young (no really I am) and the country I'm from isn't exactly renown for its English. Haha I actually screamed ASIAN POWERRR when I read this and went gushing to my mum LOL. **

**Okay enough of my ADHD incidents and erm. yeah. /hides in a hole **

**14/07/13 **


	7. Chapter 6: Fern Green

**Chapter 6**

Harry lazed on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he recalled the tumultuous events of the past week.

He was getting better and better with evading people and their nosy questions; after all he did have lots of practice over the years. He couldn't bring himself to tell anyone about the happenings; even Viktor. The fact that he had been so...enamoured when around the Dark Lord was a fact he would bring to his grave. He would rather die than let anyone know how he behaved like some love-struck teenage girl. There was something about the Dark Lord that caused him to react in such an uncharacteristic manner. Harry had initially wrote it off as the characteristic of the man's magic; seductive and lazy, much like the man. The man's magic was like a rubber band; it was loose and relaxed when pressure wasn't applied, but was taut, alert and full of kinetic energy when pulled.  
As mesmerizing as his magic was, Harry was certain it wasn't the man's magic that had him reacting in such ways. There was more to it and no matter how hard he wrecked his brains, he simply couldn't come up with a plausible reason.  
The Dark Lord would be coming for him any time soon, and Harry was determined to not display any more of such pathetic weaknesses the scheming Dark Lord could use to manipulate him with. He knew what sort of a man the Dark Lord was an he couldn't afford to let his guard down like he did in all the previous encounters.

The man wanted something from him; and he wasn't going to give in to him so easily.

He suddenly felt a rush of familiar magic in his apartment and jerked up into a sitting position.

_Speak of the devil,_ Harry thought as the door creaked open.

"I see you've found my home," Harry said in amusement. It was no surprise that the dark lord had managed to track him down. He suspected that it was due to the ring that was still stuck on his finger. It didn't really bother him as much as it should. The ring _was_ after all, rather aesthetically pleasing and Parisinus seemed to rather like it.

"You call this a home?" Voldemort sneered as he looked around the room in disdain, "I though the Potters would have been rather well off."

True, the Potters did have quite a sum of gold in the vaults, but he had no access to those vaults until he was of age. Neither did he have access to the properties owned by the Potters nor the artefacts he was dying to get his hands on. The only vault he had access to was his trust vault and there was a limit to the amount of Galleons he could redraw from it annually so he didn't want to splurge on his living conditions, in case he had an emergency need for the money. He grew up in rather similar, or maybe even worse conditions so his living conditions didn't really bother him. He spent his money with much care, but tended to splurge on clothes and books. Fine clothings were a luxury he never experienced while growing up, and he saw no harm in spending a bit more on them now that he could afford to; especially since they would resize to fit him which made it a worthy investment.

Still, Harry felt rather insulted by the man's words. Defensively, he snapped, "Well not everyone had Malfoys at their beck and call."

Voldemort was obviously annoyed at Harry's tone and attitude, and Harry thanked Merlin for the oath Voldemort had made to not hurt him back in his first year, or he would surely be writhing on the floor under the cruciatus by now. "Come; I do not wish to stay in such a degrading environment any longer than I have to," Voldemort said as he grabbed Harry's hand, ready to apparate.

"Wait!" Harry said as he tore his arm away from Voldemort's tight grasp, dashing out to the adjacent room he had turned into a study.

:_Parisinus_,: Harry hissed as he grabbed the sleeping snake up, causing her to jerk awake in annoyance.

_:You better have a good reason behind your uncivilized behaviour,:_ Parisinus hissed.

_:We're leaving,:_ he said, wrapping her around his shoulders.

_:Hello beautiful,:_ another voice said as it approached from behind.

_:Another speaker,: _Parisinus replied, interested at the new parselmouth.

_:Yes,:_ Voldemort hissed in return before turning to Harry raising an eyebrow, :May we leave now?:

Harry nodded; he didn't really need anything else other than his clothes and he was sure Voldemort would have his house elves fetch them after they left.

With that, Voldemort wrapped an arm around his waist and they apparated to wherever the Dark Lord resided.

* * *

Harry was well aware of the discomfort that came along with apparation but experiencing it first hand was much worse than he had imagine. He felt as if the world was spinning around him and he was rather sure he would have fell if not for the strong arm that held him up.

Harry quickly pushed himself away from the Dark Lord as soon as he could stand stably, remembering his resolution to not show any weakness, however minute in front of the Dark Lord. The man raised his eyebrows in amusement before leading Harry up the stairs and through a corridor to a library where the Dark Lord sat behind a desk, motioning for Harry to sit across him. The manor the Dark Lord had brought him to was definitely not a Malfoy's; which disproved the rumours of the Dark Lord residing in the Malfoy Manor. It was simple and rather plain, which was a complete contrast to how the Malfoy's would be. There were no portraits along the hallways or anywhere, as far as he could tell, and there wasn't any unnecessary decorations or furniture.

The library however, made Harry's mouth drop. Books were the one thing Harry splurged on and he had his own sizeable collection but in comparison to the Dark Lord's, it was nothing. Books lined the shelves that reached the ceiling. The shelves covered the whole circumference of the circular room. In the centre was a large study table which was nearly the width of his height. On the smooth, black polished surface sat an inkwell and quill along with a small stack of paperwork.

Harry settled on the plush armchair and told Parisinus to entertain herself while they spoke. Voldemort informed her of another snake, Nagini, his familiar, which had Parisinus slithering off excitedly.

After the snake had left, leaving the two alone, Harry broke the silence and asked, "What do you want from me?"

Voldemort's lips curled into a smile, seeming to have predicted Harry's question. There were dozens of questions running through his head, but the most pressing and concise one was this.

"What do I want from you," Voldemort purred, reclining back on his chair, "There are many things I want from you. However, you will only get to know what it is I wish to seek when I do so. As for now, all I want is for the beacon of the Light to stay out of this war."

"Are you sure that is all?" Harry raised a brow, questioning dubiously.

"Ah, it would be rather..._pleasant_ if you were to join me, don't you agree?" the Dark Lord whispered as he leaned towards Harry.

"You'll have to wait for hell to freeze over if you want me to bow down to you and worship the ground you walk on," Harry snarled.

"I do not need to seek out groups to affiliate myself with to better solidify who I am; nor do I have any idealistic vision of myself. I have no wish to be part of your cult of death eaters," Harry continued, scowling at the thought of being one of the man's puppets.

"I never said that I wished for you to be one of my numbers," Voldemort said, "Alas, you seem rather opposed to joining me."

Before Harry could defend himself, Voldemort continued, swatting the air away, "No matter; Lord Voldemort will eventually get what he wants. For now, you will reside in this manor with me. You are not to contact anyone and you may not leave without permission. If there is anything you require, simply call for my house elf, Minny, and she will get you whatever you need. You may feel free to roam this side of the wing, the death eaters are banned from here. However, if you ever feel the need to _socialize_ and get to know my death eaters better, I highly suggest you call for me first. They are not aware of our relationship."

Harry highly doubted he had any say in the arrangements so he simply nodded in silence. He appreciated the fact that the man wasn't exactly forcing him to do anything against his explicit will, yet.

"What are your aims and goals?" Harry asked.

Voldemort seemed pleased by his interest in the war and told him, "I plan to tear down this pathetic excuse of a ministry we have. I will re-establish the old traditions, re-educate the children and rid the world of those filthy muggleborns. Our kind has been sullied by the interbreeding with muggles."

"Are you going to exterminate them?" Harry asked curiously. The Dark Lord's loathing for muggles was a well-known fact. He himself did not fancy muggles but his hate did not run as deep as the Dark Lord's did. He loathed mankind as a whole, not only muggles. People were all disgusting to him; both muggle and wizards.

"Exterminate them?" Voldemort repeated mockingly, as if the idea of having anything to do with muggles itself were a joke.

"No, I do not have the time to waste on insignificant creatures such as muggles. Instead, I want the muggle world become completely isolated. I will no longer allow them to dilute any more wizarding blood," Voldemort continued.

Harry was about to input his on thoughts on the situation, but was interrupted by the abrupt standing of the Dark Lord.

"We will continue this conversation over dinner. Come, I will bring you to your chambers," He said as he turned to leave the room. Harry followed the man further down the hallway, through a few turns, before the Dark Lord came to a slight stop in front of a door, hissing in parselmouth. The door swung open, leading the two men into a large room with walls painted fern green. Voldemort stretched out a hand, motioning for him to enter.

In the middle of the room was a large bed, big enough to fit at least four people comfortably. That however, was the only thing in the room. The room was depressingly bare of any personal touch and Harry planned to fix that the moment he could.

He heard the door click shut and turned around, expecting to be alone in the room. Much to his surprise however, the Dark Lord stood behind him, patiently waiting for him to finish admiring the room.

"This is my room," Voldemort said.

_His room? Then what was Harry doing here!_

As if he had read his thoughts, Voldemort explained, "I'm apologize for the lack of rooms within the west wing. There are no guest rooms in my manor and the only sleeping chamber there is is my room. I'm afraid you'll have to spend your nights in the same room as me."

Harry choked at the realization. Merlin! He was going to have to sleep with the Dark Lord? Blood rushed up his face, colouring his cheeks red with embarrassment.

"My, what thoughts could possibly be running through your mind to have you so flustered?" Voldemort asked teasingly, stroking Harry's face with the back of his hand. The cool hand, soothing on the warm surface of the rosy cheek.

_When did the man come so close?!_

Harry wanted to protest, scream at the man, objecting to such preposterous living arrangements but the only things that came out of his mouth were incoherent utterings.

The Dark Lord took a step away- Thank Merlin- and said amused, "Sadly, I happen to be a wizard, in fact a rather competent one, and have prepared a separate room for you."

"This will be where you shall stay," Voldemort said as he opened a door situated at the back of the room. Harry hadn't even notice the existence of the door there. Now that he looked closer, he could see three doors in the room; one of which he assumed led to the washroom and the other to a closet or so, as the man didn't seem to have a cupboard.

"I'm afraid I have business to attend to. I will have someone inform you once dinner is ready," the Dark Lord said before he exited the rooms, leaving Harry alone.

Relief washed over Harry when the Dark Lord finally left the room. There wasn't a second who could relax when around the Dark Lord. He refused to let his guard drop around the other man and had his walls raised high. Having to constantly reinforce his emotionless façade around the man was exhausting, especially since the man invoked such an array of emotions in him. The thought of having to sleep with the man was horrifying and even with the revelation of his own room, the fact that Voldemort was just a door away was nearly just as scary.

Harry had no idea where he was, not even the name of the manor he was in, but one thing he knew was that he wouldn't be getting much sleep while staying here.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy could not help but notice how awfully good the Dark Lord's mood seemed to be that day. It wasn't terribly obvious, but to someone like Lucius who grew up around his Lord, it was evident that the Lord's mood was much more pleasant than it usually was.

However, the Dark Lord's mood didn't seem to last long.

The Dark Lord's inner circle were gathered in the meeting room within the Dark Lord's private residence to report their weekly progress as per usual and like always, Lucius went first, updating the Lord about the happenings within the Ministry. Every single person was assigned a specific task, even the escapees from Azkaban. The war was about to escalate to its peak and the Dark Lord could not afford to allow any one of his most capable Death Eaters to loiter about, doing nothing. Including himself, there were five of them within the Ministry. Augustus Rookwood was an unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, which gave them insight to the highly confidential research of the Ministry. Theodore Nott Sr. was the head of the Department of Magical Transportation, an incredibly useful position he had worked equally hard to get. Thorfinn Rowle was an auror in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Walden Macnair was an executioner.

Macnair was not part of the inner circle. He was a lowly halfblood and the only reason as to why he had a job in the Ministry was due to his betrayal. He was assigned the task of being an executioner after he denounced his master, a fact that made Lucius look down on him even more. The four others had worked their way to the top of the Ministry while the pathetic halfblood unlike the pathetic halfblood. Macnair unlike the four did not hold any significant position within the Ministry and was like many others, a addition to their numbers.

Lucius bowed respectfully and went back to his position after he had finished his report on the progress of the integration of the Dark Arts into international laws. After the death of Bartemius Crouch Sr., Lucius had been promoted from the head of Britain for the International Confederation of Wizards (1) to the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. The promotion had made the Dark Lord incredibly pleased, so much that he granted Lucius's wish for his son to join the Dark Lord's army a year after he was of age rather than when he was sixteen. Draco was no doubt going to be a Death Eater, however Lucius wished to have his son go through at least a year of rigorous training before his heir joined their cause. He knew how dangerous and possibly fatal being a Death Eater was and he wanted to Draco to be fully prepared before he joined.

Narcissa had been overjoyed when she heard the news, she too had been incredibly worried about their precious son joining the Death Eaters unprepared. The education at Hogwarts simply wasn't good enough under the influence of that incompetent old coot.

There were eight others in the Dark Lord's inner circle; five of which were wanted by the ministry. Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov and Bartemius Couch Jr. The Lestranges were in charge of training the Death Eaters in the art of combat while Dolohov and Couch were tasked with the discussions with the Magical Beings.

The three others were Severus Snape, Peneus Greengrass and Josef Krum. Severus was a spy for the Dark Lord while Greengrass and Krum held positions within the French and Bulgarian ministry respectively.

The Inner Circle hardly suffered under the cruciatus, having spent enough time around the Dark Lord to know how to avoid angering the man. Today however, seemed to be Severus's unlucky day. The Dark Lord's good mood was replaced by an unadulterated rage that had the man's magic pulsing ferociously around the room. Severus had only said one sentence before he was writhing under the cruciatus curse. He told the Dark Lord of the Order members Dumbledore had sent to follow Potter, causing the Dark Lord to snarl in anger. After less than half a minute, the Dark Lord lifted the curse off Severus, allowing him to continue with his report. Apparently the Boy-Who-Lived had disappeared while on his watch, a fact that he had yet to report to Dumbledore. Some how, that fact made the Dark Lord lips curl up like the Chesire Cat's and seemed to please the Dark Lord greatly. The Dark Lord told Severus to tell Dumbledore that his golden boy was away in Bulgaria having a rendezvous with his "_boyfriend_". Krum seemed to flinch slightly at the Dark Lord's words but Lucius didn't give it much thought.

After the Dark Lord had dismissed the Death Eaters, they bowed respectfully before flooing off.

Hm, Lucius couldn't help but wonder what his beautiful wife would have the elves prepare for dinner.

* * *

The Dark Lord sat at the dinning table, patiently waiting for Harrison to arrive.

He had sent Minny to fetch the boy once the last Death Eater flooed out. He had yet to tell anyone of the addition of Harrison and didn't plan to do so until the boy was ready. He still required the boy in Hogwarts as much as he loathed something of his being within the reach of the old coot. He did not wish for the boy's identity to be exposed to even his Inner Circle due to the danger it might put Harrison in. Tongues would wag and were Severus to be a traitor, Harrison would be in a precarious state.

He heard the nearing footsteps that no doubt belonged to Harrison and surveyed the boy as he walked closer.

The boy was wearing a pair of fitting slacks and a loosely tucked shirt. His hair was still slightly wet which had the Dark Lord cringe in annoyance. He pointed his wand at the boy from his seat and with a flick, his hair was completely dry. The boy rolled his eyes as he greeted, "Well, hi to you too."

The boy dragged the chair slightly which caused the Dark Lord to twitch in annoyance at the sound of the chair scratching the floor. He'd forgive the child for now since he hadn't gotten rid of his trace yet. He snapped his fingers and food appeared on the table. The two ate in silence, finding it rude to converse while eating. He noticed the small amounts of food Harrison ate and frowned. _He would have that fixed_, he thought as he placed his cutlery down.

"So," Harrison started saying as the plates disappeared from the table, "What business were you up to?"

The boy seemed awkward, not knowing how to break the ice. He didn't seem like he was used to having conversations over dinner and the way he tried to start the dialogue was so painfully gawky that it was amusing.

"Why? Could it be that you're interested in joining me?" Voldemort smirked, as the boy scowled.

They spent the next hour continuing where they left of. Voldemort was impressed by the intelligence and maturity the boy held and for once, wasn't torturing a person who blatantly disagreed with him. Without doubt, he would keep the boy by his side regardless of what the boy said. The boy was a good asset and Voldemort was not one who would let talent go to waste.

They spoke of not only the war, but of the philosopher's stone and many other things. He would hand the stone over to Harrison and allow him to meddle with it as promised and in return, the boy would report his findings to the man. He noticed Harrison's inclination towards Ancient Runes and made a mental note to pass the boy a few books he would be interested in.

The boy stretched like a cat and yawned, eye lids starting to droop. Harrison was obviously tired from the events of the day and Voldemort had things to do so he got up and brought the boy to the bedroom, in case he got lost in the hallways. Harrison schlepped his feet, nearly tripping a few times in attempt to keep up with Voldemort's brisk, wide steps but to no avail. He hissed for the door to open and made his way to the bathroom to shower as Harrison came in after him.

When he exited the bathroom in a fresh set of garments, he saw Harrison sitting on his bed, seemingly waiting for him rather than in his own bed, sleeping as Voldemort thought he would be.

"Why aren't you in bed?" he asked the boy curiously.

"I have something I need to ask you," the boy said, seemingly nervous. Voldemort raised an eyebrow at the boy's words, urging him to continue.

"Why me?" the boy asked, emeralds staring intently into his eyes.

He smirked, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the boy asked that question. He sat beside the boy, caressing the soft skin of the boy's face.

"Do you honestly think I would answer all of your questions for free?" he whispered. The boy jerked away from his hand, glaring at him.

"What do you want?" Harrison scowled.

"Join me," he smiled.

* * *

Harry should have known.

The lack of sleep he had been having for the past few nights was starting to take a toll on his body and he was about to sleep when he suddenly remembered the pressing question he had forgotten to ask, having been caught up in the topic of the war and philosophers stone. It was a question he had been dying to ask for the past fourteen years of his life and the thought of waiting till the next day to get his answers was just too unbearable.

He waited for the only man who could give him the answers to come out of the bathroom, sitting impatiently on his bed. He asked him thinking the man would tell answer his question, but he forgot the one thing he should have kept in mind the whole time. The man was a Slytherin. Not only was he from the Slytherin house but he was the last living Slytherin, descendant of _the_ Salazar Slytherin. No doubt, the man expected something from him and Harry had a bad feeling he knew what the man was going to demand.

"Join me,"

Harry opened his mouth to protest, then closed it, remembering that this might be his only chance to get his answers. But were answers really worth having to degrade himself to such an extent, simply to know something that happened in the past? He could always search for the answers himself but he doubt he would ever come anywhere close to the truth.

"Join me in my meetings with my Death Eaters. That's all I ask," Voldemort continued, grabbing his chin and making him look at the man.

"You don't want me to be one of your Death Eaters?" Harry asked dubiously.

"No, you are above them," Voldemort answered sincerely.

Harry nodded without further consideration. So long he didn't have to grovel at the man's feet, he didn't mind joining their meetings.

"Deal."

* * *

**A/N: I actually went to search up what the specific shade of green I had in mind was named.**

**(1) Something like the UN.**

**This chapter is longer as I promised! **

Comments and reviews please?

17/07/13


	8. Chapter 7: The Malfoy Manor

_"Join me in my meetings with my Death Eaters. That's all I ask," Voldemort continued, grabbing his chin and making him look at the man._

_"You don't want me to be one of your Death Eaters?" Harry asked dubiously._

_"No, you are above them," Voldemort answered sincerely._

_Harry nodded without further consideration. So long he didn't have to grovel at the man's feet, he didn't mind joining their meetings._

_"Deal."_

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Harry felt the sudden jolt of magic rushing through his body after he spoke the word, "deal". It didn't surprise him that the Dark Lord had cast the sacramentum charm to keep him by his promise. The sacramentum charm was undetectable. There was no way one could detect the spell cast until the promise was set in place and both parties were bound by the spell. Breaking your promise would leave you in pain equivalent to that of the cruciatus which made the spell illegal, not that the Dark Lord would care.

"Now that you have ensured my abidance to our promise with the sacramentum, may you please tell me why?" Harry asked impatiently.

Voldemort raised an impressed eyebrow and started, "Fourteen years ago, when the war was at its peak, there was a prophecy. Seers and Prophets hold many similarities; both have the ability to speak of the future and have visions of them. However, Seers are the servants of fate. The futures seen in their visions are concrete. Prophets however, simply see snippets of what could be; their prophecies are mostly self-fulfilling."

"Only a portion of the prophecy was delivered to me, however, that alone was enough a reason for me to kill you. Despite so, I was aware that the source of the prophecy was a Prophet. Everyone thought I was going to kill you; both the Light and the Dark. One of my servants, Sirius Black, was in love with your mudblood mother and betrayed me when he thought I would kill you, along with your parents. I do not forgive betrayal." Voldemort hissed.

"It was his betrayal that led to everything." Harry muttered in realization.

"Yes. I planned to take your lives, then his. What happened that night however, I'm sure you know," Voldemort replied as he got off the bed, "Sleep child. There will be a meeting tomorrow at the Malfoy Manor I require you to attend."

* * *

Harry tugged the warm duvets around him even closer when all of a sudden, he felt his comfortable cocoon being ripped off his body. A stinging hex was sent to his arse which made jerk up from his sleep. He snapped out of his sleepy daze and grabbed his wand, pointing it at his assaulter. He lowered his wand when he saw those familiar pair of striking red orbs staring at his dishevelled state in amusement. He was tempted to snarl at the man for waking him in such an unceremonious manner but bit his tongue in time to prevent the offensive words from coming out. He was already in a horrible mood, having to wake up at such an unholy hour and didn't want to deal with the Dark Lord's prissy temper.

"We'll be leaving in ten," the Dark Lord said, causing Harry to scowl in displeasure.

Harry spent much of the previous night lost in thought. Even after the Dark Lord left the room, he sat by the same spot attempting to process the load of information he had been made privy to. The Dark Lord had left out many details in regards to the whole incident. The man hadn't fully explained what happened and suffered no repercussions from doing so due to Harry's impatience. Harry hadn't specified what exactly he wanted the man to tell him and it was that ambiguity that allowed the Dark Lord to manipulate the conditions of the promise.

Harry wanted to scream and rage at the Dark Lord, but more than that, he wanted to hit himself for being so complacent. Harry had no one to blame but himself for having let his guard down and the experience he had the night before made him even more determined to win the Dark Lord in this game he had dragged Harry in.

Harry got off his bed and made himself presentable before meeting Voldemort outside his room. Aside from the grand and lavish bathroom accessible only via Voldemort's rooms, there was a much smaller, simple bathroom connected to Harry's room. It was so small Harry hardly had any space to move about. It was a separate room with a mirror on the wall and a shower head. That was it. There were no sinks, no toilets, no soap, shampoo or towels; just a bloody shower head and mirror. Harry had used his own supplies which, thank Merlin, Minny had retrieved from his apartment and hastily showered. No doubt, he could have used the main bathroom, but Harry refused to allow the man to see him in such a state again. He felt naked and unguarded when those red orbs stared at him in his pyjamas and would much rather bathe in the tiny shower than let the Dark Lord see him in such a state of undress again.

He hurriedly grabbed a semi-formal robe before leaving his rooms to meet the Dark Lord. The man was clad in a simple white shirt and black slacks, with a burgundy robe worn over. Voldemort led Harry to the study room where he handed Harry a simple, blood red mask.

"Put this on until I tell you to remove it." Voldemort said before grabbing a handful of silver powder. With a yell of the words "Malfoy Manor", the man was engulfed in green flames. '_Honestly,_' Harry thought,_ 'this man has a serious control complex.'_ Being ordered around was something Harry did not appreciate. For now, he would listen like an obedient pet. Voldemort had the upper hand here; it was a place he ruled and a place Harry wasn't familiar with; it would be silly for Hary to blindly strut around such a minefield.

For now, he would be docile. Harry secured the mask onto his face before grabbing a handful of floo powder and mimicking the Dark Lord.

He stepped out of the fireplace and removed his robe. With a light pat, all the ash came off his robe. Harry often travelled by floo and the pesky dust was always a problematic result of his travels, which was why all of Harry's robes were dust repellent. Harry followed Voldemort through the foyer of the Malfoy Manor to what he assumed was the dining room.

Every inch of the manor was as Harry expected; filled with everything and anything that screamed "rich".

The dinning room was rather simple in comparison to the foyer and hallways, but the furniture and cutlery left one no doubt with the Malfoys' financial status. In the centre of the room was a table that stretched longer than the entire length of Harry's room. At the end of the table, where the head of the house usually sat, was an empty chair, no doubt left open for the Dark Lord. There were fifteen chairs, fifteen people in the room. All fifteen stood up and bowed to the Dark Lord as the man entered the room. Harry followed the man, ignoring curious stares being shot his way and stood by the seated Dark Lord.

"Narcissa, vacate your seat." Voldemort commanded with a wave of his hand. Harry glanced at the woman, sitting on the left of the Dark Lord as she got up. Next to her was his fellow Slytherin, Draco Malfoy.

With a graceful bow, the woman replied, "Yes, my lord."

The Dark Lord motioned for Harry to sit on the now empty chair which Harry assumed to be Mrs Malfoy's. The moment he sat, breakfast appeared on the table. Harry ate his breakfast without trouble, despite the constant stares he received; after all, fifteen pairs of eyes were nothing compared to the hundreds he received back in Hogwarts. Harry let his eyes wander down the table as he observed the various men and women. Harry could recognize a handful of the room's occupants; the Azkaban escapees, the Malfoys and much to his surprise, Severus Snape.

The moment the Dark Lord put his knife down, an overly enthusiastic voice asked, "My lord! May I ask, who that is?"

The owner of the voice was a witch who sat next to Draco Malfoy. She had thick, curly layers of pitch black hair that contrasted with her pale, white skin. Her features were sharp and defined. She was undeniably beautiful, but in a chaotic manner. Her dark blue eyes held a deranged air that screamed danger.

"Such impatience, Bella," the Dark Lord chastised mockingly, causing the woman to pout. _Disgusting, _Harry thought.

"I am sure that you have all heard of the disappearance of Mister Potter as reported by Severus yesterday," Voldemort said nevertheless, "Our dear friend here, happens to be related to his little disappearing act. Harrison," he said, beckoning Harry over.

Annoyed at being treated like a pet, Harry shot the man a glare before getting off his chair and walking over. Harry could see the widening of eyes and shocked gasps as most realized who he was. Voldemort stood up and took Harry's mask off, revealing the boy's face to the whole room. Other than silent gasps, the room was cloaked in a deafening silence. Harry had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from chuckling in amusement from the reactions his revelation met with; especially Snape's. The man's eyes seemed to be bulging, his face an ugly shade of purple. Shock morphed into disbelief and then into outrage. The amount of emotions the man displayed within that split second was more than the the amount Harry had seen over the past four years in Hogwarts.

There was an ugly scorn marring the face of Bellatrix Lestrange's face; but it was quickly replaced with a small frown and a look of deep thought.

The reaction that got a small choke of laughter out of Harry though, was Draco Malfoy. The boy's ajar jaw and arrant shock was simply a reaction too ostentatious compared to that of everyone else. He looked like someone just told him that his whole life was a bloody lie and Harry just couldn't hold back his laughter.

Other than his laughter though, the whole room was pin-drop silent. Questions were burning in the throats, but everyone knew better than to interrupt the Dark Lord and demand for answers.

"Harrison is under my protection. He will be attending all meeting with me, of course with his identity hidden." Voldemort announced. The message was clear: No harm was to come upon Harrison and no one was to speak of him.

"Yes, My lord." The room chorused.

"Draco, come." Voldemort ordered. All colour seemed to drain from the boy's face as the Dark Lord addressed him. Lucius hid his nerves and worries behind his well-constructed mask of nonchalance while Narcissa looked as if she was clamouring in anxiety; she had thrown aside her poised mannerisms. She was about to stand up in protest before Draco quickly got up and shot her a glare. Narcissa seemed to deflate in defeat as her son strode in false bravado to the Dark Lord. He squeezed her arm reassuringly as he passed her, an action that although subtle, was still caught by the Dark Lord and Harry.

The whole scene made Harry want to regurgitate his breakfast in disgust. The way Narcissa, a lady of such poise and stature, had her common sense hazed simply because of something so minuscule was repulsive. The Malfoys were loyal servants of the Dark Lord, no? Shouldn't they not be fazed by such a summon? It was pathetic how _family_ made had the Malfoys gripping in distress.

Harry glanced over at the Dark Lord and by the look of annoyance the man wore on his face, he was rather sure the man felt the same way. Did they really have to kick such a big fuss over such a small thing? Harry couldn't help but sigh and roll his eyes at the excessive dramatics.

The boy followed the Dark Lord and Harry to the foyer of the manor where Voldemort hissed, _:I assume you have your wand with you?:_

_:No, I think it's stuck up his arse,: _Harry replied, pointing to Draco who looked as if he were constipated, _:I think that's why he looks like he's going to faint any moment.:_

The Dark Lord raised an amused eyebrow and smirked at Harry's joke, causing Draco to tense up even more.

_:Perhaps you might want to check your own arse, maybe it's the reason why you were so grumpy when you woke,: _Voldemort teased, causing Harry to growl in annoyance.

_:That was beca-:_

_:Hush child, I do not have time. Tap the ring with your wand a say home. It will bring you back to my manor. The Malfoy spawn will explain to you whatever you wish to know about the Death Eaters. I have matters to attend after which I will check on you._: Voldemort interrupted.

With a nod, Harry grabbed onto Malfoy's arm, as he tapped his wand on his ring saying, _:home:_.

* * *

**A/N: Some one mentioned that the picture seems too mature for Harry. Actually, no; that's my ideal Tom Riddle :') spoiler Yes Tom will get his good looks back shhh.**

**For how the Harry I picture as looks like, do refer to my profile for the image link!**

**Ridiculously short chapter but I'll make it up with the next chapter. **

**I'm kind of stressed up recently with my studies (I plan to go over to US to do anthro since they don't offer it here) and exams and all that shizz so I won't be updating for a while; at least until my exams are over. **

23/07/13


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