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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
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Chapter 12 : Cold Case Reopened – November 15, 1993

The next morning, Harry was still very much feeling the effects of yesterday's healing marathon. All he wanted to do was curl up and go back to sleep, but he already slept through breakfast. And he didn't want Snape to come up to the Gryffindor Tower to check on him. Shortly after their truce, Harry noticed Snape was taking a personal interest in his health. If he didn't eat enough at breakfast, the eagle eyed man would give him that narrowed look that promised unreasonable loss of point in potions class. Once he even threw a nasty little scourgify on Harry as they passed each other in the halls. Apparently, Harry had missed a smudge after cleaning up from Herbology. It was really strange, and Harry couldn't predict when the next urge would hit his teacher.

"It's like I'm an honorary Slytherin or something," Harry grumbled as he rolled out of bed. If he wanted to make it to lunch on time, he'd better hurry.

Even though it was lunch time, owls were flying in and out of the Great Hall. Dishes were pushed aside so students could write letters to their frightened parents, reassuring them that they were okay. As Harry strode in, he nodded briefly to the three 7th years, who helped out in the infirmary last night. Like him they also looked like they just rolled out of bed. All three of them looked at him in surprise before returning the nod. Most of the Head table was empty, including Snape, who was probably brewing something or checking up on the injured students. 34 students was still a lot for just Madam Pomphrey to handle alone.

"Can I borrow Hedwig," Hermione asked just as Harry sat down. She and Ron were also busy writing letters. "I'm thinking all the school owls are going to be used up."

For a moment, Harry felt a pang of sadness for not having anyone to write home to, or at least no one that would care. It irritated him that she would just assume he didn't need his owl today, which he actually did, but he supposed if he had to soothe a frantic parent in another country, he'd be kind of insensitive too.

So, Harry nodded. "Sure, 'Mione," he said. "I'll just floo to Professor Tonk's after lunch."

"Oh, come on!" Ron protested. "You're not thinking of going to your lessons, are you?" he asked incredulously. "Even Professor McGonagall doesn't expect you to attend your lessons today."

"Actually, Professor Snape wrote me a letter excusing my absence," Harry said as he began eating. "But that's not the reason why I need to see her."

At this, Hermione looked up from what looked like an epic length letter. "You've been awfully secretive lately," she said with a critical look.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know. It's just we haven't seen much of you lately. At least never for long before breakfast and never long before curfew. We don't even see you at lunch anymore."

"Yeah, what have you been getting up to?" Ron asked, stuffing his mouth with some kind of meat.

Harry cringed, wondering what Tonks would say to that, since they just started lessons on table manners. "Well, all three of us have vastly different schedules," Harry answered slowly, not liking the curious looks on his friends faces. "In fact, I'd say Hermione's been rather scarce around here too. With your class load, you have to be taking weekend classes or something."

"I have the Headmaster's approval," Hermione replied defensively. "Besides, we're not talking about me. We're talking about how different you seem after summer. Did something happen to you over the break?"

"Yeah, you're turning into a…a SlythClaw or Raverin or something," Ron added.

"A Raverin?" Harry repeated, chuckling.

Ron punched in him the arm. "I mean it! You come in dressed like them, you're now Snape's favorite or something, and you're being all secretive and shifty."

"You are spending an inordinate amount of time with Professor Snape," Hermione pointed out. "It does seem rather inappropriate."

Ron didn't realize his own strength. Harry rubbed his bruised arm, and he was starting to feel boxed in. Plus even after sleeping in, it still wasn't enough, and the last thing he needed was to get ganged up on. "Well, if I hadn't spent all that time with my healing teacher," Harry said slowly as if talking to very young children. "I wouldn't have been able to help patch up a quarter of our classmates or brew medi-potions for Professor Snape and Madam Pomphrey. Let me ask you two what you were doing yesterday when I was trying to help keep our classmates from dying!" the last part Harry had hissed out in anger. Okay, so that was an exaggeration. The worse he had dealt with was a bludger sized bruise to a 4 th year's thigh, but still!

Ron and Hermione both looked stunned for a moment. "Well you don't have to say it like that," Hermione objected.

"Yeah, we all know you were some kind of hero yesterday," Ron added darkly and waved to one of the many copies of the Daily Prophet. "The Headmaster made sure everyone knew it."

Harry shook his head, his appetite gone. "I don't have to take this from you two of all people," he said before getting up. But as he walked out of the Great Hall, he could hear a pair of foot-steps following him and sighed heavily. It wasn't until he reached a rather empty hallway before he turned around to face his persistent friends.

"Look, Harry," Hermione said quickly as if fearing Harry would turn away again. "We're just worried about you. Please look at it from our point of view. A sudden change in someone usually means something big has happened in their lives."

"And considering it's you, it was probably a bad thing," Ron finished. "Plus, you absolutely hated Snape in the beginning of the year. You even walked out of his classroom, remember?"

Harry felt a little guilty for venting his grumpiness at them. He looked between his two friends and decided to give them the benefit of a doubt. Besides, he knew how they were with a mystery. Even if the Headmaster, himself, told them to drop it, they wouldn't. So Harry decided to give them just enough to satisfy their sense of curiosity. "Alright, something has happened…"

"I knew it!" Hermione yelped, but quickly grew quiet at Harry's look. "Okay, sorry, go ahead."

"Come with me," Harry said instead and took them to the nearest empty classroom. Once the door closed behind him, he threw up all sorts of privacy and security charms.

"Where did you learn those?" Hermione asked, having studied his wand movements. "It's not from anything in our year or even fourth."

"Sixth actually," Harry corrected. "Now do you want to hear this or not?"

They both nodded.

"And you both promise not to tell anyone," Harry added. "Everything I'm going to say is very private, and I don't want the whole school or the whole wizarding world to know about this. I'm not going to deal with another incident like the parseltongue thing last year."

"We promise," Hermione said and Ron nodded.

"Alright, over the summer, I decided I didn't want to live like a house elf anymore and decided to go to Gringotts," Harry said. "There, I learned a lot about my parents, especially my Dad."

"And this turned you into a Slytherin?" Ron asked, confused.

"Will you stop it about the Slytherins?" Harry snapped. "And no, it wasn't what made me more 'Slytherin.'"

"Yes, shut up, Ron," Hermione scolded. "And let Harry finish."

"Anyway, I learned that my father wasn't all I thought he was," Harry continued. "Apparently, he was just as spoiled and attention seeking as Snape had accused me of."

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, scandalized.

"You can't listen to what those slimy snakes say about your dad," Ron added. "Your dad was a hero. He was…"

"Yes, yes, I know all that," Harry interrupted. "But listen to this. My Grandfather, Charles Potter, knew his son was so irresponsible that he banned my father from accessing the family vault, leaving him an account that was separate from the family's. It was a good thing too, because the goblins told me that my father practically gave all his money, which was nearly a million galleons, to Dumbledore to fight the war. If the accounts hadn't been separated, the Potters would not only be penniless, but I would also inherit my father's debt of 100,000 galleons."

Hermione shook her head. "That can't be true. The Headmaster wouldn't take personal donations like that. The ministry has funds to fight wars, so the Headmaster wouldn't need your father's money."

Not if Dumbles was building his own army separate from the ministry, Harry thought privately.

"And that doesn't explain your change in attitude with Professor Snape," Hermione added.

Harry sighed, wishing the girl hadn't been so perceptive. "I can't tell you much of that, since it will be violating Professor Snape's privacy too. But let's just say my father was friends with Sirius Black back in their Hogwarts days, and their gang bullied and terrorized the school."

"They were pranksters," Ron quickly defended. "Brilliant ones…oomph," Ron gasped when Hermione nudged him a little too hard with her elbow.

Harry's eyes narrowed, all his alarms going up. "How did you know my father and Black were pranksters?" he asked slowly. "What do you even know of him?"

"Look, we were just doing some research," Hermione spoke up in defense. "You know, since he actually broke into your dorm with a knife."

"Yeah, turns out your dad was friends with him," Ron added excitedly. Obviously, he'd been waiting a while to get this off his chest. "And he was heard muttering, 'he's at Hogwarts, he's at Hogwarts,' while he was in Azkaban. Apparently, he's going after you, mate!"

Harry kept the sneer off his face, but it was disgusting how Ron still thought all this was some kind of adventure. "And why did neither of you tell me this?" he demanded, his voice now cold.

"Well, we thought you would have asked. You know, like how we researched about Nicholas Flamel, back in first year," Hermione said, realizing before Ron that Harry was seriously mad at them. "We were only trying to help."

Harry shook his head. "No, no you weren't," Harry growled. "Because if you had been trying to help, you would have told me right away. I might have been scarce, but I always returned to my bed before curfew hits. Ron could have easily told me. But no, you guys waited, wanting me to ask you two about personal information of my parents." Harry took a breath, reigning in his temper. "You know what I think this is?"

Hermione and Ron shook their heads meekly, because they knew it was true. With a danger like Sirius Black, they should have warned Harry immediately.

"I think this is a game to you. For Ron, it's like some kind of adventure like with the Sorcerer's Stone. And with you, Hermione," Harry said. "It's a game of one-upmanship. You are always so quick to share your ideas, your research, but I haven't needed to go to you for anything lately, not even homework. In fact, I now hold the highest grade in our year. But now, you somehow got a hold of some secret that you just know I would beg you for, and decided to keep it from me." Harry took a step forward, ignoring the look of horror on her face. "Forget that your friend never even knew his parents, not like you two. Forget that he would give up his entire fortune for a family like the Weasleys or the Grangers. And forget that fact that the madman out there had betrayed my family to Voldemort and is now coming for me. Because having this one little secret over me, makes you two feel special, too, right?"

"It's….it's…it's not like that," Hermione sniffled, tears pooling in her eyes. Even Ron looked pale and shaky, his freckles standing out horribly. "I'd never do…"

"Oh, but you did, Hermione," Harry said. "And I think you know it too. Both of you," he added, including Ron as well. "And if you tell anyone about this, I don't think I will be able to forgive you."

And with that, he threw the door open, deactivating all privacy spells, and marched out. He decided to use Snape's floo instead of McGonagall's because the longer walk through the dungeons would give him enough time to calm down before meeting with Professor Tonks.

Harry's earlier guess about what his teacher was doing was correct. Harry found Snape brewing away a storm in his personal lab, with three cauldrons going at once. Harry took a tentative whiff at identified at least one of them was the calming draught. "What are in the others?" Harry asked curiously.

"Tinkture of Hope and Dreamless Sleep," Snape answered. "I theorize that a little hope will counter the melancholy the dementors inspire. Now what are you doing here?"

Harry gestured to the fireplace. "There's some things I needed to talk to Professor Tonks about and I let Hermione borrow Hedwig."

"And have you eaten yet?" Snape asked.

Harry dutifully nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good. You can't afford to be missing anymore meals. Well, go on. You must be back by dinner."

Harry nodded his thanks before lighting the fireplace and throwing the grey powder in. "Tonk's Residence," he called.

It was a few minutes before his teacher answered. "Good afternoon, Harry," she greeted. "I heard about what happened with the dementors. Are you alright?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied. "But there's another matter that I'd like to speak with you about."

"Well, come on through then," she invited.

Harry gave her a moment to step away before he stepped inside the fireplace. He silently thanked his teacher once again for showing how to floo properly. Apparently, clumsy flooing was a side-effect of having a powerful magical core. It's because the innate magic fights against the magic of the floo or any artificial magical travelling method like portkeying. His teacher believed the only type of magical transportation Harry could tolerate was flying and apparating. But, at least she made it so that Harry wouldn't land on his face whenever he exited a fireplace, even if he still stumbled a bit.

It was routine now for Mrs. Tonks to meet Harry at the fireplace and settling in the library where their lessons were held. "So what was it you wanted to speak with me about?" she asked as she ordered a house-elf to bring them a tea set.

"I wanted to ask you what you knew about Sirius Black's trial," Harry said. "I know he was a cousin of yours."

"I see," Andromeda responded somberly. "There wasn't much known about it. It had been a closed trial, you see. A good many of the trials were closed then simply because there were so many, so I don't even think it would have been newsworthy except for the fact that he had…"

"I already know how people think he betrayed my parents," Harry said as his teacher had trailed off.

Harry's word choice did not go unnoticed by the eldest Black. "What do you mean, 'how people think'?"

"I have reason to believe that he didn't betray my parents," Harry said. "When the fidelius charm was cast, my father was convinced to switch secret keepers with Pettigrew."

It took a moment for the meaning to sink in, but when it did, Andromeda's eyes widened. "Are you saying it was Pettigrew who had betrayed the Potters all this time?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"Do you have proof?"

Harry shook his head. "I only have a very reliable source," Harry said. "But I can't reveal him, not even if it meant freeing Sirius Black. So I want to hire you as my attorney and I want you to pull the court records. See what he said under veritaserum, see if they asked for a pensive testimony, things like that."

Immediately, Andromeda had conjured up a quill and parchment. "I should get the auror's report as well…I may need to make use of the Potter seal," she said.

"That's fine," Harry agreed. "Even if you have to use the boy-who-lived angle, do it. I want to find the truth about what happened. Also, if you can manage it, could you also look for my parent's will?"

"Your parents will?" she repeated.

"Yeah, Gringotts said they lost it," Harry answered. "The only reason why I could even be named as the Potter Heir was because my Grandfather didn't pass it on to my father. So it went directly to me."

"I'll look into it that as well," she promised.

Harry and Andromeda spent the rest of the afternoon making plans and writing letters. Despite being excused from lessons for today, Harry decided to stick around anyway. He was still irritated with his friends. So, Andromeda turned it into a lesson in composing proper correspondences, since he was addressing people like Amelia Bones, a high member of the Wizengamut and next in line for the Head of the auror department. Andromeda also suggested he write a letter to the Minister as well, but Harry remembered someone telling him that Minister Fudge went to Dumbledore for all his problems, and Harry didn't want this getting back to the Headmaster.

Andromeda agreed.

One thing that weighed heavily on Harry and Marvolo's mind was his exposing the form of his patronus before all the professors. It wasn't that Harry regretted it, but now they had a real problem. They were just lucky so far that all the professors had been so busy with the after math of the attack, especially Dumbledore, that they hadn't had time think about what happened. No doubt once they had a moment to sit down and think about it, they'd start to wonder where the snake patronus had come from.

Altering perception after the fact was impossible, unless you went around and obliviated their memories to build new ones. That wasn't feasible in this case, since the entire school had come out to watch the first game of the season.

"But you only need to alter the perception of a couple professors," Marvolo pointed out.

Harry nodded. It was only a couple professors he was worried about – Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, and Flitwick. All the others were of little consequence since they minded their own business when it came to all things Harry Potter.

"So four teachers," Harry concluded. It was a lot more manageable than the whole school, but still. These were the four most powerful and perceptive professors in Hogwarts. It wasn't like he could just go up to one of them and obliviate their memories, even if he knew how to do the spell. And with Dumbledore and Snape, they had formidable mental shields to block such attempts.

"You are thinking too much like a Gryffindor," Marvolo said. "Forget Light magic. Can you not think of any other way to influence them?"

Harry frowned thoughtfully. Well, direct attacks were very Gryffindorish. So, something more subtle, something that affected the mind and body.

"Recall what you know about the body elements," Marvolo prompted.

"The body is a reflection of nature," Harry recited, eyes going distant as he tried to recall that lesson. "The body is like the earth. The feelings and emotions are like fire. The mind, thoughts, and ideas are like air, and the spirit is like water." Harry blinked and looked up. "Since we are trying to change their thoughts, we use the air element?"

Marvolo nodded. "In the future you will become adept enough to make your dark spells and add them to your Potter grimoire, but for now I will teach you one of my own."

Harry went after Flickwick first, since he was supposed to teach the patronus and no doubt Dumbledore would ask him which students the patronus belonged to, before he took any further action. Harry found the diminutive teacher in the halls, carrying a stack of scrolls. A discrete flick of his wand caused the scrolls to tumble out of the professor's hands. Then Harry ran up to him, under the pretense of helping Flickwick pick up the scattered items.

"Oh no need, Mr. Potter," he said cheerily, and gave his wand a wave.

While they waited for all the parchment re-roll themselves back up, Harry gathered his magic into his lungs and throat. As in all dark magic, there was a sacrifice and a driving force. For this one, the sacrifice was his breathe and the fuel was his determination. He pictured the moment his patronus flew into the Quidditch pitch, held it in his mind as he began the quick incantation in parseltongue.

Come and gone, of no import.

Misty, hazy memory,

Like a sigh in the wind.

So mote it be!

"Five points to Gryffindor for helping a teacher," Flickwick said, once he gathered all the scrolls back into his arms.

Harry nodded his thanks and just as Flickwick turned away, Harry softly blew a gust of air in the teacher's direction, imagining the memory of his cobra patronus being carried away on the eddies of his breath.

The little professor gave no indication that he felt any different. He hadn't paused or turned around, and continued on his merry way. Harry was a little disappointed that there was no reaction, but he suppose that was a good thing. If Flickwick had sensed something, then there was no way he'd use this spell on Dumbledore or Snape.

"Did it work, you think?" Harry side whispered to Marvolo. He knew he felt something. The breath that came from his lungs had felt heavier, like it was actually carrying something. There was also a faint tingle in the air, half lost in all the magic of Hogwarts. If he hadn't been feeling for it, he wouldn't have felt it himself.

"The Old Magicks can be like that, subtle and insidious," Marvolo said. "That is why it is so difficult to block or avoid. And your belief and faith in the magic will make it into a reality."

The spell was not like an obliviate. An obliviate erased a memory, leaving a 'hole' in the mind that could be detected by a mind magician. Instead, this spell made the memory seem so unimportant, so dull and boring, that the victim naturally forgot about it.

Harry decided to trust his friend on this and went to hunt down his other teachers. One down, and three more to go.

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

December 10, 1993

Nearly a month passed without incident from the dementors or Sirius Black. In that time, the Gryffindors had a rematch against Hufflepuff. They were nearly tied 150 to 120, Gryffindor, when Cedric Diggery, the Hufflepuff seeker, found and caught the snitch. Ron wouldn't talk to Harry for an entire day after that.

"If you were still the seeker, we wouldn't have lost to Hufflepuff…Hufflepuff!" he had said.

A week after that, Ravenclaw and its new seeker, a girl named Cho Chang, utterly decimated the Hufflepuff team, bringing Gryffindor back into the running for the Quidditch Cup. If Slytherin beat Ravenclaw, which was a good possibility with all their faster brooms, then Gryffindor could play Slytherin for the Quidditch Cup.

Another interesting thing that happened was the change in Harry's unicorn wand. When Harry first disguised it to look like his Holly wand during the dementor attack, he decided to keep it on so he could use this wand in class. But when it came time to clean it, he had to take the illusion off. Expecting to see the usual pearlish swirl of the horn, he nearly dropped his wand when he saw black swirls twirling up the wand as well. Now the wand alternated in black and white.

Thinking something was wrong with it, like it was dying or something, Harry frantically called his friend from the diary and hurriedly pushed the wand forward for inspection.

"Well, this is interesting," was Marvolo's answer after a moment of study.

Judging by the pleased look on Marvolo's face, Harry decided he was scared for nothing. But that didn't mean he wasn't confused. "What happened to it?" he asked, as he traced the black swirl that alternated with the white.

"Have you ever seen a black unicorn?" Marvolo asked.

Harry's eyes widened. "I didn't even know they exist," he admitted.

"Oh, they certainly do, but they are far more rare than their Light counterparts," Marvolo explained. "Unicorns, as a species, are creatures of purity. Remember how I said that it didn't matter if you were pure of Light or pure of Dark?"

Harry nodded, casting his mind all the way back to the end of second year. Seemed so long ago…

"Well, this is why," Marvolo said, gesturing to the unicorn horn. "Your magic is still pure but is now balanced between Light and Dark, taking on the essences of both the Black Unicorn and the White Unicorn."

Hearing this, Harry looked at his changed wand in awe and pride. Now that he was calmer, he could see that the black wasn't purely black, just like the white wasn't purely white. Both had a pearly gleam that shown in the candle light. He thought it suited him much better than the completely white horn, since he now considered himself a practitioner of both the dark and light arts.

Finally, a month after beginning his inquiries of Sirius Black, Harry had received disturbing news from his lawyer. Apparently, there were no records what-so-ever about a trial for Sirius Black! There was the auror reports and the arrest reports. There was even a report of Black's transfer from a holding cell to Azkaban. But no court report. The ministry had tried to claim it was just lost or missing, but Andromeda pushed through the idiotic bureaucracy until she reached Madam Bones. Madam Bones used her Wizengamut connections and discovered that the last minister didn't even give Sirius Black a trial in the first place!

When Harry first read this, he wanted to curse the entire ministry into oblivion. It was no wonder Marvolo wanted to tear it down and start over. Now, the situation was in Amelia Bones' hands, but even she had a lot of red tape to cut. The ministry not only didn't want to admit they had made such a fundamental mistake, but they would also look doubly bad because they made Sirius Black into a scapegoat and turned it into a crazed ministry man-hunt. So their solution was to hush up the press, stonewall Bones' inquiries, and hope Sirius Black was never found.

Come winter break, the Boy-Who-Lived was going to storm the ministry walls and turn their neat little lives upside down if he didn't get any answers soon!

A/N: Sorry for those die hard Hermione fans. She does seem a little OOC here, since I really pushed her nosiness and her competitive edge. I think she's just desperate to stay in Harry's life, even as he is outgrowing her. She doesn't understand what's going on with Harry, why he's changing so much, and in her desperation she does what she normally does, go to a teacher. Understandably, she picked Remus for the personal connection he has with Harry's parents, but it just keeps backfiring on her. Poor girl. Her efforts will pay off eventually though, I promise.

Next up...Harry finally confronts Remus!
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In Servitude of the Dark: The Hand That Guides Me