Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

In Servitude of the Dark: The Hand That Guides Me	By : xXxLuckyxXx Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 74965 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. I just play in her world.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter 10 : Halloween Attack – October 26, 1993

"You were the one who put the curse on the Defense position?" Harry asked, shocked. "But why?"

"Simple, Old Man turned down my application for the position," Marvolo replied with a smug smirk. "So I told him if he could refuse a more than competent candidate then I cursed him to never find a competent teacher to take the class again. I think, since I tied the curse to the Old Man, once he steps down then the curse gets broken."

Harry shook his head in amusement and asked the room for a refill on his hot cocoa. Harry, and by association Marvolo, had fled the Gryffindor common room after Ron and the quidditch team found out Harry had missed Quidditch tryouts. But it really became a pitchfork mob when they found out Harry had classes on the weekends and wasn't going to play for them this year. His only days off were going to be on the days Gryffindor played. Being persona non grata among the Gryffindors for a while, Harry decided to escape to the Room of Requirement.

"I wish he had hired you," Harry complained. "You've been an amazing teacher, and the things you could have taught us!"

"That was precisely why Old Dumbles didn't hire me," Marvolo pointed out. "Now, since you are here and not with those fools…"

"Gryffindors aren't fools," Harry automatically protested.

"You can continue working on your patronus," Marvolo spoke as if Harry hadn't interrupted. "And then back to your occlumancy shields."

Harry's shoulders slumped. It was a hard bit of magic that Harry still hadn't gotten down yet. "Why must I learn the patronus?" he wondered and lifted his Knot. "This should protect me well enough. I haven't had one dementor induced nightmare or moodiness."

Unfortunately, for Snape and Madam Pomfrey, the same couldn't be said for the rest of the school. Students were still coming in waves for Dreamless Sleep and Calming Draughts. Even the few 7th years, who could perform the patronus, suffered random bouts of depression and nightmares. After all, you couldn't keep a patronus hanging around all the time, not like a Knot.

"Because the Knot is only for defense, while the patronus can actually fight offensively against a dementor," Marvolo answered. "Also, when I am fully resurrected, I will seek an alliance with them once more. So if you want to stay with me, you'll have mastered this spell."

Marvolo had said the magic words. Harry would put up with a whole lot more than mastering a Patronus to stay by his friend's side. So he obediently pulled out his unicorn wand and closed his eyes in search of his favorite memory.

"Mastery in this spell and in the dark arts requires mastery of your own mind and emotions," Marvolo began lecturing softly in a smooth, soft voice. "As you already know, it is our emotions that power a spell, and the dark wizard who can invoke such emotions faster and stronger will be the victor…"

Harry allowed the soothing tones of his teacher's voice wash over him. He had tried many memories, like his first broom ride or when he caught the snitch for his team, but these were all quick surges of happiness. The fleeting, superficial emotion did not last long enough to sustain a corporeal patronus. After a little searching, Harry finally settled on the memory of when he first cradled the unicorn horn in his hands. This moment signified a turning point in his life. It was freedom to practice any magic of his choice, and it was independence from everyone who sought to control him-Dumbledore, the Dursleys, and the ministry. That, in addition to the feel of Marvolo's ghostly arms surrounding him, created Harry's most happiest long-lasting memory yet.

Harry let the joy fill his mind and encompass his core before he cried out, "Expecto patronum!"

Suddenly, a long bright light burst from the tip of his wand. Harry's eyes fluttered closed as an infusion of absolute bliss surged within him, making him feel light and warm at the same time. It kept building and building and building…until it finally reached a point when his patronus solidified. Harry only managed to catch a glimpse of it before it disappeared into a wisp of smoke. Just like all his previous ones.

"Why can't it hold its form?" Harry wondered, suddenly feeling bereft and rather empty when his patronus disappeared. Harry dropped his wand arm and took a deep breath, trying to recover from the magical high. He didn't like the odd emptiness in his chest and was determined to get it right, if only to feel that surge of absolute bliss again.

So for the next hour, Harry kept practicing, shortening the time it took for the patronus to take form and shortening the time it took to call up his memories. By the end of their session though, Harry's patronus still tended to disappear on him rather than stick around to find any danger.

"Enough," Marvolo interrupted before Harry could raise his wand again.

Harry panted and wiped the sweat from his brow. "No, I can get it this time, I'm sure of it."

"Lower your wand, now." Marvolo' tone had gone hard. "That's an order, Harry."

Harry glared back, reacting to the anger he felt. "No, you just want to stop me from learning this spell…" he raised his wand up again, not noticing how shaky his hand was. But before he could cast the spell, a sharp stabbing pain suddenly lanced through his scar. Harry hissed and dropped his wand to clap his hands over his forehead.

It was like a douse of cold water or a slap in the face.

Harry groaned. "I got carried away again, didn't I?" he asked slowly lowering his hand. The sharp pain had gone as quickly as it came, but left a dull throbbing ache around his scar. He looked up at Marvolo who looked torn between concern and the need to remain stern.

"Get a headache draught and we will discuss it," he finally said.

Harry nodded meekly, feeling bad that he had upset his friend. He downed the draught, but the best medicine was Marvolo's cool hand over his scar. Harry leaned into, relishing in how its coolness was soothing the heated throb.

"You are in control of yourself, not the magic," Marvolo reminded sternly. "Many wizards more powerful than you have fallen to the seduction of emotions-charged magic. You must have the will and fortitude to stay in complete control of the magic. Do not let yourself become lost in it again."

Harry nodded again. "Yes, sir." He did realize how dangerous this was. If he had kept going, if Marvolo hadn't stopped him, Harry could have gone on until he permanently damaged his magical core.

Marvolo could sense the defeat in Harry's voice and sighed. The thing about Harry was that he didn't need to be scolded more than once or twice. If you've earned his respect and loyalty, Harry would take every reprimand and every chastisement to heart. He absolutely hated to disappoint those people he actually looked up to. It was this amazing capacity to submit that Dumbledore wanted to cultivate and mold into an obedient soldier who would happily sacrifice himself for a rare praise.

Marvolo knew just how deep the Old Man's 'grandfatherly look of disappointment' had torn into Harry's heart before. It used to drive the boy wild to make up for that disappointment. Marvolo could just see his Little Serpent striving harder and harder, putting himself into more and more dangerous situations each year just to please the Old Man.

But Dumbledore had mishandled Harry so badly that he lost him to Marvolo. "No harm done. You will gain more control as you practice. Next time though," Marvolo said, coiling his wispy body around the other's slender frame, like a full body hug. "Just heed my words. I do not enjoy inflicting pain on you, my Little Serpent."

Harry nodded, feeling better, knowing he was forgiven. "Thank you, Marvolo. I know you're just watching out for me."

After that, and a quick shower, Harry returned to a room that was refurnished for soothing meditation. The lights were dimmed, pillows littered the floor, and the room provided soothing sounds of a bubbling brook. Occlumancy training was the perfect thing to clear his mind of how the patronus charm had effected him.

Mindscapes were very personal, and the best ones matched the occlumen's personality, magic, and level of creativity. Marvolo had a very strong personality, aggressive magic, but he wasn't very creative. He favored the more logical and sophistocated mind, and so his mindscape resembled the labyrinthine underground tunnels of Slytherin's Citadel, filled with traps to destroy or ensnare the intruder.

Harry also had a strong and stubborn personality, though his magic was more defensive than offensive and his level of creativity was very highly developed from his time locked inside a dark cupboard. And therefore, Harry's mindscape resembled that of the Forbidden Forest and all it entailed. Naturally, the deeper you went the more private the memories became. Memories like his friendship with Marvolo, his second wand, and his other secrets lay in the heart of the forest, guarded by a phoenix and a basilisk. The rest of his memories were guarded by dozens of acromatulas and their webby networks. Anyone who tried to attack here would get trapped or attacked by the giant spiders.

As the days rolled by and the weather turned cooler, Harry couldn't use his favorite spot by the lake anymore. Ron was still mad at Harry for quitting the team, even though the team itself had gotten over it and chosen some fourth year to take his spot. And Hermione's temper grew shorter and shorter as the term wore on. Somehow she looked even more frazzled and busier than Harry was, which was saying a lot considering how hard Marvolo was training him. Hermione hadn't even asked for his notes in Healing yet. And every time he or Ron tried to get her to slow down or just drop one of her classes, she'd hiss and snarl at them, refusing to admit defeat. The mystery of Hermione's schedule was an ongoing saga amongst the Gryffindors.

Marvolo and Harry just figured she was taking weekend and night classes. It would explain her exhaustion.

Meanwhile, Snape was still working on finding an appropriate classroom with appropriate practice subjects for Harry's healing lessons. He had approached St. Mungoes, but the board of directors refused to let Harry practice on their patients. It was understandable, since Harry had only begun his healing lessons, but Snape hadn't been happy.

"I'm afraid we are going to have to rely on your own classmates for practice subjects," he said. The look of disgust on his face made it clear what he thought of that. "For anything more than nightmares, bruises, broken bones, and the odd sniffle, we will just have to rely on books, as loathe I am to admit this."

"Well, I've got another idea," Harry said, rocking back and forth on toes. Thus far, he had kept the RoR a secret from everyone, because it had been his sanctuary away from all the drama of the Gryffindor Tower. Harry couldn't explain it, but he had a strong desire to impress the Potion's Master as the snarky man was fast becoming one of the very few adults he trust and respected.

Hearing the cheerful tone in Harry's voice, Snape gave him a suspicious look. "I am not allowing pranks that mimic the effects of dangerous magic."

Harry blinked. That was actually a good idea, but… "No, this isn't like that. Please sir, will you just come with me?" Harry was already out the door before Snape could answer him.

"Impertinent Brat," Snape muttered, making it sound more like fond exasperation. He followed after the boy, quickly catching up with his long strides. "And where is this place you are taking me?"

"Don't worry, it's still in the castle," Harry assured him.

This made the tall teacher pause. "Must I remind you that there is a homicidal maniac outside these walls? Not to mention those infernal dementors?"

Harry kept his mouth shut about Sirius Black and nodded. "Like I said, still inside the castle. It's on the 7th floor." Harry was quiet after that, enjoying the confused look on Snape's face as he tried to remember what exactly was on the 7th floor. Harry also noted that Snape, unlike other people, was self-contained and poised enough not to bombard him with questions, no matter how strong his curiosity was. Harry figured it was a quality of Slytherins or just really scary people. Marvolo was the same way.

Idly, he wondered what Snape's mindscape would be like. It was probably a room full of volatile cauldrons, ready to explode at the first sign of attack or something.

Finally they arrived across the rather ugly tapestry of the dancing troll, and Harry quickly shot out a stream of dense fog before the troll noticed them. It was practically instinct now for Harry to cover his movements, and there was no snake in this tapestry. "No witnesses," Harry said seriously at Snape's look of surprise.

"Barnabus the Barmy?" Snape asked. Harry had covered the portrait before he got a chance to identify the picture.

"If it is a troll trying to learn ballet, then yes," Harry answered. Then, without further explanations, Harry started pacing back and forth in front of the brick wall, calling forth the room he had first created for Healing. Professor Snape actually took a cautious step back when the door magically appeared in the brick wall.

"What is this," he asked.

"It's our new classroom," Harry said as he opened it and stepped inside. "Or better known as the Room of Requirements."

Snape stepped inside with a look of impressed awe, noting the gurney, the mannequins, and especially the mini potion's bench on the side. "I had heard rumors of this place," he admitted. "A room that appears for those who have sufficient need for it and can be anything the user wants."

"That's right," Harry agreed and as if to prove it, a wall of medi-magic books appeared before them. "You can't take anything out of it though, except what you have brought in. You can eat in here, but once you leave, it disappears from your stomach too."

Harry had learned that the hard way. One night he planned on a long training session and decided to skip dinner in favor of eating in the RoR to save time and for privacy. But then when he left, he could actually feel the food disappearing from his stomach. It was not a pleasant experience. So now, he went to the kitchens and brought food in.

"So this is where you've been spending your time, then? " Snape asked, changing the topic. Lately, the boy was rather scarce around Hogwarts, only showing up during mealtimes and even missing some. Snape wasn't sure if he approved of the self-imposed isolation. The boy was slowly withdrawing from his friends, and Merlin knows what he could get up to, especially in a room that could grant all your needs.

Harry heard the note of disapproval in his teacher's voice. "I am always back before curfew," he said defensively.

"And if something dangerous got passed the school wards?" Snape added, with a raised eyebrow. "How would any of the teachers know that you were all right?"

"Well now you know," Harry answered obviously. "Besides, I'm probably in the safest place in the whole school." Except for the Chamber, he mentally added. "The door disappears after you walk inside."

This made Snape pause. "That's true," he reluctantly admitted. "Very well then, this will be the first place I look for you if anything happens."

Harry nodded. "Will you promise to keep this place secret?" he asked. "I don't want the entire school to know about it."

"Unless in an emergency," Snape countered. "If there is danger on the school grounds, I am sending the students in here."

"Deal."

"Now let's see what this room can do."

O o 0 O 0 o O o 0 O 0 o O o 0 O 0 o O

October 31, 1993

Halloween wasn't about dressing up as monsters. It also wasn't about stuffing yourself with so much candy that you thought you'd puke. It was about honoring the ancestors who've died before, and realizing that the veil between Life and Death was at its weakest. Today, the veil was thin enough so that Marvolo could stay out of the diary and roam free by Harry's side.

Not surprisingly, Marvolo had quite a lot to say about the farce of Halloween that Dumbledore allowed within the walls of Hogwarts. As a semi-ghost himself, Marvolo had been deeply offended.

Harry also thought it sad that one of the most magical nights of the year was reduced to this superficial spectacle. According to Marvolo, Samhain, was traditionally the night where you could work the most powerful of magicks, like summoning deceased loved ones and other rituals that otherwise wouldn't work without the magic of Samhain.

"What a waste," Marvolo had said in disgust.

Looking around the Great Hall during the Halloween feast, Harry could pick out those who still revered the Old Ways versus those who had completely forgotten their magical roots. The former group held expressions similar to Marvolo's or bored indifference, and were mostly huddled around the Slytherin table. Even those who weren't Slytherins gathered there, apparently finding solidarity amongst their like-minded peers. The other group celebrated loudly and carelessly, and to Harry's chagrin tended to stick close to the Gryffindor table.

Because of such an obvious divide, Harry (being a Gryffindor) couldn't cross this imaginary boundary, without betraying his views on dark magic and the Old Ways. He settled for watching the other side enviously, and tried to ignore his rambunctious house-mates, not an easy task.

"Can't you give it a rest, Hermione?" Ron grumbled. "It's Halloween for, Merlin's sake." He pushed a very sugary confection towards her, no doubt in hopes to tempt her from her book.

Hermione gave the frosted laden cake a disgusted look, which in turn offended Ron.

"You know Hermione's parents are dentists," Harry finally spoke up before the two could get into one of their spats.

Ron looked sheepish. "Oh right, the teeth healers." He shook his head. "Still don't know how sweets can rot your teeth. Makes no sense to me."

"Ron, what does your family do for Halloween, you know before you entered Hogwarts?" Harry suddenly asked, hoping he could learn something, maybe a Light family's tradition. Seeing as how the Weasleys and Potters were both Light families, they would probably practice the same traditions.

Ron perked up. "Oh, a while back, Dad discovered muggles actually go house to house asking for candy and such. Isn't that such a brilliant idea?"

Privately Harry was disappointed, but seeing as how Ron never bought candy from the snack trolley any excuse to get free sweets really must sound brilliant to him.

"…so ever since then, we go into the muggle world, dressed exactly like we normally do and fill our bags with sweet. Muggles have the best kind of candies."

Harry sighed, and Marvolo looked disgusted. "Blood traitor," he cursed.

Harry just managed to keep from automatically defending Ron. Instead, he ducked his head guiltily. He wanted to agree with Marvolo now that he actually knew what a blood traitor really meant. More and more, he was seeing that his chosen path was taking him away from his friends.

Being the perceptive phantom that he was, Marvolo noticed Harry's conflicted feelings and made an effort- a small one -to tone down his vitriol. "The Old Man should at least let the students with dark families go home where they can celebrate All Hallow's Eve in their own ways."

::That's true:: Harry whispered in parseltongue. Harry had learned back in second year that parseltongue was more difficult to over hear than normal speech. Unbidden, Harry's eyes wandered straight to Malfoy. He was still wearing his cast, apparently an accident with a Hippogriff, that everyone secretly knew was long healed. When Malfoy first showed up with a cast on his arm and whining about Hagrid, Harry was half tempted to throw a diagnostic spell on him just to see what would happen, but he had a feeling Snape would tear his head off or something.

"You're still going to teach me how to summon a sprite, though right?" Harry whispered.

"Tonight at the witching hour, my Little Serpent" Marvolo promised.

Harry nodded, unable to suppress his excitement. At first, Harry was disappointed that summoning his mother's spirit was way beyond his abilities. In fact, contacting the dead was mastery level dark magic, something Harry realized he wouldn't be messing around with for a while. But they weren't going to let the most magical night of the year pass without taking advantage of it. Instead of summoning dead spirits, Harry was going to perform the ritual of Calling for Sprites.

This was a ritual that almost every dark child attempted when they were 10 years old, before going to Hogwarts. It was like a milestone, like taking your first steps or riding your first broom.

A sprite could be fire, air, water, or earth. One or all four could answer the call, depending on your power level and how Magic favored you. In fact, the greater number of sprites you managed to call and bonded to was a mark of prestige in the dark community. After the sprite was bound, they could then be ordered to complete small tasks for the price of a little blood and magic from their Caller. It was a balanced trade of favors.

Needless to say, Harry found it hard to sleep that night. Luckily for him though, his dorm-mates had gorged themselves so fully on the feast and candy that they were sleeping off the sugar crash by 10 pm. Some didn't even make to their dorm rooms. Harry planned to sneak out to the Forbidden Forest at 11 o'clock, giving him enough time to prepare before midnight - the witching hour.

As Harry waited, he worked on his occlumancy shields to pass the time. Harry was just putting the last finishing adjustments to his mindscape when he was gently brought out of his trance by his friend. Once it was obvious Harry was awake, Marvolo put a hand over the boy's mouth. "Quiet. There's an intruder."

Eyes widening, Harry discretely turned in the direction that Marvolo pointed. He would've let out a gasp if the hand didn't remain over his mouth. Their beds, 5 in all, were arranged in a circle, and in the center of this circle stood a silhouette of a man draped in raggedy clothing, standing over Ron's bed.

Harry reached for the unicorn wand beneath his pillow, but decided to wait and see what the intruder wanted from Ron first. It was obvious he was searching for something, and muttering things, but neither Harry nor Marvolo could hear or understand it.

But then the man shifted and Harry spotted the knife, as its sharp edge caught the faint candle light that Neville kept by his bed. Just as he raised the knife, ready to strike, Harry aimed his wand and shouted stupefy!

Surprisingly, the man had dodged it. If the situation hadn't been so dire, Harry would've been impressed with the man's reflexes.

"Wah?" Ron was startled awake by Harry's voice, but he only had enough time to freeze in terror before he was caught by Harry's stupefyinstead.Harry cringed guiltily, but at least Ron wouldn't be waking the whole tower up.

During his distraction, the intruder got a hold of Ron's wand. "Somnio nebuli!"he whispered and a white, dense cloud engulfed the room.

"It's a sleeping mist," Marvolo told Harry.

But Harry already recognized the spell and quickly countered with an air freshening charm to clear the air immediately around him, leaving the other students to sleep.

"Hold it!" Harry said firmly, and made his wand glow to light up the man's face. His hair was knotted and lanky, his cheeks sunken in, beard overgrown and an air of sour stench wafted off him. Beyond that, his eyes glinted like the edge of his knife in Neville's flickering candle light. "You're Sirius Black." Harry said, recognizing him from the picture in the Daily Prophet.

While Harry studied him, Sirius in turn drank up the miniature version of his old friend. "You must be…Yes, you have to be little Harry…splitting image of James…" So many emotions flashed across his sunken eyes that Harry couldn't read him. Finally it settled on hopeful, but wary. "It's not what it looks like."

"Just stay right there," Harry ordered as he pulled out his holly wand, causing Sirius to blink. Keeping the unicorn wand pointed at Sirius, Harry tossed a diagnostic charm on Ron to make sure his friend wasn't bleeding to death or anything. Only the stupefycame back in the reading.

"Impressive!" Black complimented with a grin, almost as if he had forgotten he was held at wand point. "That was left handed, wasn't it? Last time James tried something like that, he blew his hand up…had to go to Mungoes for that…"

Harry gave the man a weird look. Clearly Azkaban affected the man more than just the physical. There was a kind of crazed look to those eyes that Harry didn't like. "Why were you slashing up Ron's bed?" Harry demanded, interrupting Black's senseless reminiscing rant.

As if Harry had reminded him, suddenly the urgency and anxiety returned in Black's eyes. "Right, right…Keep focus…" Sirius shook his head, looking much like a shaggy dog. "I can't explain everything right now, Harry," he said quickly, eyes already darting around in search for that elusive something. "But I promise I will. I'd never, never hurt you, Harry. You gotta believe…"

Harry sighed in annoyance. "What exactlyare you looking for?" he interrupted again. He realized if he let Black carry on, he'd never get to the point.

"Weasley's rat. Wormtail," Black answered distractedly. He already returned to riffling through Ron's things. "I'll explain later…"

"Ah, he means Peter Pettigrew," Marvolo interjected. He had been standing off to a side when it was clear the man was no real threat to Harry. "He is a rat animagus. I suppose it is possible the coward has kept hidden as a wizard's pet all this time."

"You mean Pettigrew," Harry said, since Black couldn't hear Marvolo's voice.

"You knew?" Black asked, stunned, before suddenly breaking into a crazed and maniacal smile. "Brilliant!" he cackled. Then, without warning, he took two quick steps forward and grabbed onto Harry's pajamas tightly-almost desperately. "You must help me find that traitorous bastard…He betrayed your parents…and he was the Secret…"

"Get your hands off me, Black," Harry growled, wrenching himself out of the man's tight grip. He did notlike getting manhandled, courtesy of Uncle Vernon, and quickly pushed the deranged man back with his sparking wand tip. "I still don't know if you killed those muggles. Seeing you with a knife over my best friend's bed doesn't look good, does it? Now I want the truth about what happened that night."

For a moment, Black looked confused and hurt before he opened his mouth, maybe to answer, maybe to apologize, or maybe to rant some more, but Harry would never know because just then a loud blaring siren wailed through the Gryffindor tower, rattling the windows. Instantly, Black disregarded his search efforts and picked up a random knick knack from Ron's dresser.

"Tag him!" Marvolo shouted. "He's escaping."

Hearing this, Harry instantly shot a magical marker on Ron's wand, just as he heard Black say, "portus," and disappeared right before Harry's eyes, leaving Harry to wonder what just happened.

"Quick, back to bed," Marvolo ordered.

Harry cursed and scrambled into bed. A few seconds later the door to their dorm was practically thrown open. Remembering his dorm-mates had a sleeping mist cast on them, Harry pretended to fall asleep as well, though he had positioned himself in a way that he could keep watching.

His Head of House, still in her sleeping wear, strode in with wand in hand, but came to an abrupt stop after seeing the damage to Ron's curtain and bed. She gave a startled gasp before waving someone else in.

"Stay with the children," McGonagall ordered. "I'm getting the Headmaster."

Harry wanted to roll his eyes. Could she not do anything without Dumble's approval first? If it were up to Harry, he would have checked if any of the students were harmed or not. It took a few minutes, but eventually all four Heads of House squeezed in along with the Headmaster himself.

It was Snape who cast the diagnostic charms, but when he came to Harry's bed, it was obvious Harry hadn't been affected. Thanks to the Slytherin's quick thinking, Harry's cover was maintained, though he was sure Snape was going to grill the truth out of him later.

After that, was a couple hours of controlled chaos. The third year Gryffindors were transported to Madam Pomphrey, in which Harry secretly cast the sleeping mist on himself, only to be reawaken minutes later in the infirmary. Meanwhile, Dumbledore sent half the teachers and all the ghosts on a castle wide search, while the rest of the teachers gathered all the students to the Great Hall and kept guard there.

By the time the third year Gryffindors were all sorted out, the Great Hall had become one giant dorm room. The House tables were all pushed to the edges, purple sleeping bags were neatly organized and laid out on the floor, and most everyone was ordered to go back to sleep. Considering the level of whispering in the room, this was highly unlikely. But the only thing anyone knew, including Ron, was that there had been an attack on the third year Gryffindors, and it had been Sirius Black. Each new bit of information only served to fuel another wave of frantic whispering.

Later, an investigation showed the man had escaped by way of a self-made portkey, using Ron's wand. And by 3 o'clock in the morning, the search was called off.

While everyone else was shivering in fear or kept awake by curiosity, Harry was grumbling about the fact that his ritual to call for sprites would have to be postponed until the next night of magic, which was Yule, during winter break. That, and the fact that no one had seen Ron's rat.

A/N: This was an unbelievably hard chapter to write. I hope no one was disappointed by the Harry and Sirius' very first encounter. I know a lot of people were looking forward to the big moment. It's just a glimpse though, and I promise there will be lots more Sirius in the future. It just seemed odd to me that the first time Harry actually faces Sirius wasn't until 300+ pages into the 3rd book, and then suddenly decides to live with the man that just broke his best friend's leg to murder another human being. You'll also notice my Sirius is a little more unstable. Even in his animagus form, I feel he should have been a little more affected by the 12 years of exposure to the dementors and the false imprisonment than canon portrayed. Unless Rowling had some kind of instant Crazy-Be-Gone potion that I didn't know about.

As promised, I will pose the next chapter ASAP once I've done the final polishing. Keep an eye out for it!

Next up, the dementor/Quidditch scene. Even though Harry's not the seeker anymore, he will still play a central role here.
- 9
- 10
- 11
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

In Servitude of the Dark: The Hand That Guides Me