Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Harry Potter and the wizarding world	By : zoy_grey Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 10766 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own nor make profit off of JK Rowling's world of Harry Potter, the characters or the timeline. I do own some of the characters that are of my imagination as well as the plot that I came up with.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
A/N: First of all, I should apologize to everyone who's reading this story, for my super long absence (graduating university, writing my thesis and this story isn't exactly the best combination ^^'). However, I assure everyone that I do intend to continue with this story :)

delia cerrano: I planned to reveal the pairing sometime after chapter 15-16 ;) And although I normally like Harry/Draco, I have to disappoint you...this time I have a different pairing in mind ^^' But I already have an idea for a different Harry/Draco story.

Sergej: Thank you for the nice review, it actually gave me motivation to find some time to write the next chapter ;)

CHAPTER 12
The next morning Harry, once more, woke up as the first person in the dormitory. However what surprised him was the fact that he slept all through the night and he felt regenerated. He laid there in bed trying to remember everything that happened yesterday; anything that could explain why he felt different that morning.
A warm sensation spread gently inside his chest and that’s when the realisation struck him. He remembered everything that happened yesterday; his meeting with Shadow and then reunion with his dark friend. Harry focused on the warmth inside him; it felt familiar. He’s been feeling it for some weeks already, but it always felt as if something was fighting within him; now, on the other hand it felt different; it was flowing through him freely and it made him calmer.
‘Tempus,’ he said in his thoughts, still marvelled by his newest discovery. When the spell revealed it was almost half past six in the morning he sat up and looked for his glasses on the night table. Carefully touching the table, Harry found the glasses, put them on and finally got a clear vision of the chamber. “What the…,” he stopped midsentence, when he noticed something peculiar.
There on his night table laid his wand. He analysed what happened just a moment ago.
“Did I just cast a nonverbal, wandless spell?” Harry whispered to himself completely baffled.
“Harry?” said a quiet voice from the other end on the room. “Are you alright?”
Harry looked in the direction of the voice and saw Neville propped on his arm and staring at him with worried yet still sleepy expression.
The plump boy was one of the very few students who actually treated him the same way as always; and that Harry was thankful for.
“I’m alright, Neville. Go back to sleep,” he told him and smiled to himself.
If he was to be entirely honest, he never felt better. Not to mention that finally, after over a week, he started to see hope in the whole situation.
He headed to the bathroom in a cheerful mood. Now that he thought about it all, he realised there were people who believed him and were his friends after all; Neville and a few other Gryffindors were nice to him; he even had Jamie on his side, or at least he hoped he did, since it was always very difficult to read that girl. Then he remembered Shadow and finally understood that his previous suspicions were correct; even though the Daily Prophet and half of the wizarding world claimed him to be a criminal, Harry was certain the man wasn’t; if the wizard was indeed a villain he wouldn’t help him the other day, would he? And the fact remained that Harry listened to Shadows advice and he felt amazing.
Stepping under the shower, Harry could hardly contain his excitement for the upcoming school day. He wanted to try out his newly discovered powerful magic; because there was no doubt about the strength of it; not after he effortlessly performed nonverbal spell which he should learn in sixth year.

Just as he expected the day was going exactly how he imagined it would. Harry was overly excited about his new abilities, but no one could blame him; anyone would if they discovered all of a sudden that casting spells was so easy and all of them were twice as powerful as they used to be.
However there was something else that made his day even better. It was watching how his so-called friends were doing in Charms and DADA class. Harry knew he was quite good with both, charms and defence, but he never expected to actually beat Hermione in spells.
In Charms, he sat alone, in the back of the classroom, so that nobody would bother him. They were practicing the summoning charm that day. At first Harry simply sat there and observed how everyone was doing. Finally, when he was sure no one was paying attention to him, he took out his wand and tried to summon the book from the other end of the table. He wasn’t even surprised anymore, when the book quickly moved towards him.
After a while he stopped practicing and took the opportunity to check how others were doing.
The books and other small objects were flying around the classroom, but they hardly ever landed where they were supposed to. Harry felt a small smirk forming on his face, when the pride grew in him.
“Ouch,” he heard someone say in the first row. “Watch out Ronald. I’m trying to concentrate here,” said Hermione.
Somewhat amused, Harry observed his friends struggling to summon their books. However, after a minute, ha was stunned that even Hermione had problems with that spell; she was always the first person to do the spells properly, but it seemed this time it was him who was actually the only person able to do it.
Now, when it all seemed so easy, the class became boring and dragged awfully long. Harry tried switching between casting the spell out loud with his wand, out loud but wandlessly and nonverbally but with his wand. However, that bored him too after a while.
His attention was drawn by Dean and Seamus laughing at Neville’s attempts to summon his book, which ended with the said book hitting professor Flitwick in the head.
‘Idiots,’ he thought. ‘They can’t cast it themselves, yet they’re laughing at Neville.’
Then an idea popped into his head. Would he manage to summon the book nonverbally and wandlessly?
‘Might give it a try,’ he decided and looked at Neville, who sat exactly in front of him, and was being encouraged by Flitwick to try again with the spell. Focusing as much as he could on the other Gryffindor’s book he cast the spell nonverbally. ‘Accio.’
At the same time, Neville gave one more try, lifted his wand and said the incantation. To his biggest surprise, the book finally moved and steadily floated towards him.
‘Yes, that’s right. Now to make it land in front of Neville,’ Harry instructed himself in his thoughts. When the book was exactly before the other boy, Harry stopped concentrating on it and the object landed where he planned it to. ‘Perfect.’
“Well done, Mr Longbottom!” squealed happily professor Flitwick and patted stunned Neville on the shoulder.
While everyone else was dumbstruck by what just happened, Harry felt a smirk forming on his face. Yes, he was glad for two reasons – one, he managed to make all of his classmates to shut up; second, he actually did a nonverbal, wandless spell that was introduced to them only today.
When the class finally ended, the students rushed outside, leaving Harry to be the only one left in the room. He didn’t mind, though. He was so excited he wanted to try one more thing. He walked to the door and without turning around he said in his thoughts ‘Accio schoolbag.’
Immediately the object, which was left by the desk Harry occupied earlier, quickly flew across the room and landed exactly in the boy’s outstretched hand.
“Marvelous!” squealed unexpectedly professor Flitwick. “Absolutely marvellous, Mr Potter! Professor McGonagall will be delighted to hear her fourth year Gryffindor is already doing nonverbal magic.”
“No please, professor. Please don’t tell anyone just yet that I can do it,” when he saw the disoriented expression on the wizard’s face he quickly added. “Let it be a surprise for the tournament.”
The teacher nodded in understanding and Harry left the classroom.
‘Oh yes, listening to Shadow’s advice was the best thing I’ve done this school year, so far,’ he thought and hope rose in him that maybe he’ll be able to survive the tournament after all; with enough practice and a bit self-study to even his chances with the other three Champions.

For the next few days Harry was still marvelled by his new abilities; and even the fact that he was more and more exhausted with every passing day, he still tried to practice as much as he could. Whenever he had some time he sneaked away from others, hid himself in the abandoned corridor, where he met Shadow, and trained.
He already revised the entire first, second and third year spells from every subject; he felt rather confident he wouldn’t fail if he needed to use those during the tournament. Right now he was concerned about the fourth year spells. Maybe he had already overdone it and was too exhausted, but he couldn’t get them to work properly. The teen didn’t allow himself to be discouraged by that; especially now, when he knew his godfather was cheering for him and that he was capable to do more complex magic than his classmates.
It was definitely a nice and reassuring thought that Sirius believed him and was there for him. In his latest letter, Sirius wrote he wanted to talk with Harry and later probably he’d be able to meet with him; that lifted Harry’s hopes and gave him motivation to do his best.
“Potter, I need a word with you,” said professor McGonagall after Transfiguration class one day.
Harry obediently waited, while the rest of the students were leaving. He caught some of them snickering and making sarcastic remarks about him being in trouble, but Harry did his best to ignore it.
“Listen Potter,” started the witch as soon as they were alone. “I tried to get you out of this silly tournament, but I wasn’t able to do much. I understand the pressure and stress you’re under, but I see it’s taking a bigger toll on you than everyone expected. Honestly, you look dreadful.”
‘Thanks, professor. That was really helpful,’ he thought sneering inwardly.
“What I want you to do is, go to Madam Pomfrey and ask her for some potion to boost your energy or some nutrition potions, and then go to your dormitory and get some rest for the day.”
“But professor, I can’t. We still have classes…” the teen protested. He still had so much to catch up on that he simply couldn’t afford to lose any more time; not if he wanted to survive whatever surprise was waiting for him in the first task of the tournament.
“As remarkable as your attitude may be, I neither think you should push yourself right now, nor do I remember you ever being very eager to study this hard,” professor McGonagall raised her eyebrow and said that in a tone that nobody would even dare to argue with her.
Harry knew she was worried about him and wanted to help, but this really ruined his training plans.
“I’ll inform the other teachers you won’t be attending anymore classes today,” Harry nodded to that and headed to the door. “And Potter…I’ll ask Madam Pomfrey if you visited her or not.”
With resignation the teen walked slowly out of the classroom and headed towards the hospital wing. Actually, he was planning to just skip the visit to Madam Pomfrey and train all afternoon - since he was already excused from classes for the day; however, knowing his Head of House as good as he did after three years, he knew he’d get himself in detention for not listening to her instructions.
‘Oh, let’s get it over with,’ Harry thought and walked through the doors to the infirmary.
As always, Madam Pomfrey rushed around the hall taking care of some students. Just by looking at them, Harry could tell they were second-years or younger; and very much intimidated by the school nurse.
He laughed inwardly remembering how scary the woman seemed to him, when he was in his first year; she never missed the chance to lecture students and rant about their recklessness. Now, he knew she did all that because she worried about them all.
“Mr Potter,” sounded the stern voice of the witch when she finally noticed his presence. She eyed him searching for any major injuries and asked, “what seems to be the problem? You haven’t broken any bones again, have you?”
“Not yet, but I might be a regular here this year,” he said with a sneer.
Madam Pomfrey quickly understood what the boy meant and she looked at him with sympathy.
‘So, even Madam Pomfrey doesn’t have much hope for my survival in this tournament,’ thought Harry. ‘How wonderful.’
“You look a bit pale though,” added the witch and rushed to him to check what was wrong.
“It’s fine, I’m just tired,” he answered sitting down on one of the beds closest to the cabinet full of different potions and other medicine. “But professor McGonagall ordered me to come here and then take some rest.”
“Good thing she did that. You were probably pushing yourself too much,” the witch took out a small bottle and turned around to face him. “And you most likely don’t get enough sleep. A dreamless sleep potion should do the thing…”
“But I sleep very well,” Harry interrupted her. “I sleep all through the night and feel perfectly fine in the morning. It’s just that I get tired rather fast and by the end of the day I can’t even perform magic properly.”
For a moment, the school nurse watched him curiously. She seemed to be debating on something and with slight hesitance she finally walked over to her cabinet once more. Harry wasn’t sure how to understand her behaviour, but he didn’t have enough time to think about it either. Madam Pomfrey came back with a bottle of transparent liquid and handed it to him.
“You’ve never seemed to have problems like that before, Mr Potter, but I think this will help you.”
The teen wasn’t great with potions but he honestly couldn’t remember any potion that looked like the one he was just presented. Nonetheless, he took it.
“Well…I haven’t got all day Mr Potter. Drink it up and off to bed you go,” she rushed him with her usual stern tone. “No forcing yourself today and you’ll be as good as new tomorrow.”
Not thinking much, the boy drank the potion and left the hospital wing. Already on his way to Gryffindor Tower he felt a bit sleepy, which he thought must have been the potion’s doing.
When he reached his dormitory, he felt so exhausted he let himself go to sleep, hoping that just like Madam Pomfrey said, he’d be as good as new in the morning. His trainings could wait until then.

Barty was pacing nervously in his chamber. That night he was called to his master’s house; the older wizard most likely wanted a report from him. That in itself was unusual since the Dark Lord made it very clear that he’d be unable to go back to Riddle House during his entire mission. It made him wonder if something was wrong.
As the time went by he was losing patience. Barty would prefer to go to his master straight away and find out what was wrong, but he knew that would cause trouble.
He had a feeling old Dumbledore was getting suspicious about him, but he definitely hasn’t discovered the truth about Mad-Eye. Nevertheless, he had to watch out for Dumbledore; it wouldn’t be wise to give him any reason to distrust him. That, however, meant Barty had to wait until midnight to sneak out of the castle and outside Hogwarts’ protection wards to apparate to the Dark Lord.
“Finally,” he muttered to himself when the clock struck midnight and walked to the door.
Making sure he was alone, Barty sneaked out of his chamber. He walked as fast as the old auror’s body allowed him to; he knew his master didn’t like to wait long. A few times he walked into some ghosts, but fortunately enough they didn’t notice him. Barty was sure that if they did, they’d immediately report it to the Headmaster.
“Almost there,” he told himself walking outside, towards the school’s wards.
When he was far enough from the castle he walked through an invisible magical barrier and sighed relieved.
The wizard focused on Riddle House and in mere seconds he was standing in the backyard of the house he knew so well by now.
For a moment he focused on the magic flowing around the house and he couldn’t come out of admiration how powerful the Dark Lord was. The older wizard’s magic seemed to grow with every passing day.
“What are you doing here?” asked suddenly a voice coming from the building. “You should stay in Hogwarts until the end of school year.”
“The Dark Lord himself ordered me to come here today,” answered Barty with a sneer.
Moment later he felt a slight pain run through him as the last bits of Polyjuice potion stopped working. Finally in his own body, he straightened up and walked proudly towards the plump wizard before him.
“Where is our lord?” he asked.
“In the study,” said the other wizard in a way anyone would notice he disliked Crouch jr. Nonetheless, he followed the other wizard closely with a bit of excitement – he still believed that Barty disobeyed their master and came back to their hideout for some trivial matters; Wormtail couldn’t wait to see the other man getting punished by the Dark Lord for his actions.
They entered the dimly lit house and walked upstairs.
The house was a real mess; even though normally Barty couldn’t care less about it, this time it bothered him a bit; he couldn’t understand why his master wanted to stay in such a filthy place, especially since it required only some magic to repair the estate in mere moments. However he knew better than to question the older wizard’s actions; if he wanted to live in a place like this and make it new quarters for him and his Death Eaters then be it. Barty just hoped that he would get as many missions to take care of as possible, so that he wouldn’t have to spend too much time in this house.
“You’re finally here,” called an irritated voice when the two wizards stopped in front of the door to the study.
Hearing the irritation in his master’s voice, Wormtail clapped his hands and moved to the side, waiting for a curse to come straight Crouch’s way. To his biggest surprise, nothing like that happened.
“My Lord,” said humbly Barty and kneeled by his master’s side as soon as he entered the room. “I’m afraid I had to take extra safety measures not to cause any suspicions. Old Dumbledore is not too willing to trust me completely and Severus watching my actions closely isn’t much help either.”
“Snape is on their side, my Lord,” interrupted Wormtail and lowered his head quickly when his eyes met with the horrific red gaze of Voldemort.
“I do not remember calling for you Wormtail,” hissed dangerously the older wizard. “I thought I told you to take care of the preparations for the ritual…or do you find it not all that important?”
“N-no, my Lord. I just thought t-that I’ll check if you n-need something else,” stuttered the plump man and slowly walked backwards to the door.
Voldemort observed the wizard go and he couldn’t help but feel slight amusement; it was entertaining to watch how Wormtail feared both him and his snake. Not to mention, that since Barty left for Hogwarts, he didn’t have much interesting things going on; so he made Wormtail his private puppet.
“I’ve heard that something has been bothering you lately,” started the older wizard as soon as the door to the study closed and Wormtail was nowhere close to the room.
Hearing that, Barty made a confused face. It was true that there was something on his mind; for a few days to be precise, but what surprised him was how his master knew about it. He wasn’t supposed to report to him during school year, so he didn’t; that however didn’t explain how Voldemort found out.
“Don’t be so surprised,” hissed the Dark Lord recognizing Barty’s befuddlement. “I told you before. I have another spy in Hogwarts.”
“Shadow,” slipped out of Crouch’s lips. “But how? How did he know? I haven’t seen him in school…not even once.”
Voldemort let out a strange yet creepy laugh and said, “Indeed, he proves to be a good spy. He tells me that there is something bothering both you and him about Potter. So…what is it then?”
The younger wizard’s mind was still trying to remember any situation when Shadow could have found out about him being worried because of Potter’s behaviour.
“Well, it’s true my Lord. At the beginning of the school year I found out something odd about Potter’s aura…in fact, he didn’t seem to have any magical aura around him. However some time ago, all of a sudden, I started sensing his magic. It was strange, because I could almost see it, yet it wasn’t dark…more like neutral with inclination towards dark,” the wizard started explaining.
“Yes, I’ve heard of that change in the boy already,” interrupted Voldemort. “Shadow helped him release his true magical affinity.”
“What? But my Lord…why did you let him do that?” Barty couldn’t find a reasonable explanation for why anyone would help Potter; after all, the boy was the reason the Dark Lord vanished for so many years; why would Shadow help the boy gain more power? Why did Voldemort allow that?
“I do not need to explain myself to you,” hissed maliciously the older wizard and immediately the other man was silent. “Shadow acted on my orders. If the boy is indeed anything than Light, than having him on our side might work in our favour. From what I’ve heard he’s been doing rather well with his magic since then.”
“True, my Lord. Potter had an incredible improvement in school, however…for the last two or maybe three days he’s been doing average again, if not pitiful at times,” the man paused and watched the changing expression on his master’s face; the other man seemed quite upset about this latest news. “Although, I’m not sure what might be the cause of it.”
Seeing the older wizard deep in thoughts, Barty thought it might not be a bad idea to offer his help in the case; maybe he’ll be able to find out what caused the sudden change in Potter and at the same time he’d please his master.
“Do you want me to check into it, my Lord?” he started.
“No,” was the short answer Voldemort gave him; the wizard narrowed his eyes and observed the younger man for a while. Finally making up his mind he said, “I think the time has come for you and Shadow to know about each other’s tasks and work together.”
“My Lord,” the younger wizard hesitated. “You want us to know our true identities?”
“Yes…and no,” a smirk formed on Voldemort’s face. “He is not one of my Death Eaters and I don’t want anyone to know his identity just yet. You, however, are a completely different matter. If you two are going to work together it would be wise to reveal your identity to Shadow.”
“But…won’t it be too risky? If he’s not a Death Eater, he could betray us. If I may say so…I think it would be safer…”
“It will be safer for you if Shadow knows who you really are,” interrupted Voldemort. “He holds a personal grudge against Mad-Eye.”
“I see,” was all Barty could say, but inside a thousand questions ran through his mind; he wanted to know who could Shadow really be; he knew quite a few wizards who held a grudge against the old auror, but none of them seemed likely to be Shadow.
“Return to Hogwarts before they notice you’re gone. And wait for Shadow to contact you,” said the Dark Lord before his gaze landed on an old looking book he was reading before Barty arrived. “If Potter comes to you seeking answers about magic and magical theory…do enlighten him as much as you can.”

As was his habit by now, Harry slipped out of Gryffindor Tower after dinner and went to the fourth floor corridor for his daily training. He became rather fond of the place; no one went there to bother him and he could practice in peace.
The only problem was something felt wrong with his magic again and it worried him. Harry felt much better after the potion Madam Pomfrey gave him, but that didn’t change the fact that he went backwards in terms of his magical skills – he couldn’t perform any nonverbal spells anymore and even wandless magic seemed difficult again. It frustrated him that all of a sudden he went back to how things were before he met Shadow; and that wasn’t good in his situation; not with the first task of the tournament getting closer with every day.
For the next two hours or so, Harry attempted to summon and levitate his bag from one end of the corridor to the other, but with no success.
“What’s going on,” he called frustrated. “Why isn’t it working?!”
“Having problems?” asked someone standing in the darkness.
Startled by the unexpected arrival of someone, Harry turned around, wand in his hand ready to cast spells at the stranger. He narrowed his eyes trying to see anything in the darkness. At the same moment he heard someone’s laugh. Immediately Harry recognized that voice and felt somewhat relieved.
“Shadow?” he asked uncertain; after all, it wouldn’t be good if someone found out he knew the criminal chased by the Ministry.
“Did you expect someone else here?” the wizard laughed and walked closer to Harry; he sat on a bench by one of the walls. “What’s changed since our last meeting?”
“I’ve done everything you told me and it felt wonderful.”
“I know you did. I saw improvement with your magic,” answered impressed Shadow.
“I felt great and I could even do spells I couldn’t before. Though I suppose I’ve overdone things and had to take some potions,” Harry started explaining, but stopped when suddenly the other wizard stood up, walked closer to him and grabbed him by his robes.
“What potions?” demanded Shadow.
“I don’t know. Some nutrition potions that Madam Pomfrey gave me,” Harry rushed to give the other man some answers, but he didn’t understand much of what was going on. “Why do you ask? Why is it so important?”
“Do you have it with you?” Shadow stretched out his hand and waited for the vial of potion.
Still not completely understanding the situation, Harry took out a vial of transparent liquid from his bag and handed it to the other wizard. For a moment there, Shadow observed the potion; then suddenly dropped the vial on the floor and stomped on it crushing it into pieces.
“What are you doing?!” Harry yelled at him.
“That,” the wizard pointed to the destroyed bottle of potion “is the reason I started the so-called attacks on kids and teens. That is also the reason your magical performance is getting worse with every day.”
“What are you talking about? I feel better after drinking this.”
“For now,” said Shadow and wandlessly disposed of what was left from the potion.
Irritated Harry threw his bag on the floor, sat on the bench and glared at his companion. He needed answers; he wanted them and he wanted them now. Again he felt like in first year when people were hiding things from him and he didn’t like that feeling.
“Care to explain a bit more?” demanded Harry.
“I don’t know who and why, but someone is giving this potion to kids with a bit darker magical affinity than the wizarding world would feel comfortable with. Pomfrey is giving it to students, but I truly doubt she knows what this really is doing to people’s affinity. Besides, she’s not the only one who’s distributing it,” answered calmly Shadow.
“What’s so wrong about it? It’s just a nutrition potion,” argued Harry.
“It’s not illegal, but it can be dangerous to some witches and wizards. It works like an average nutrition potion, but only for people with light affinity,” he said and paused to let Harry process that information.
“You mean to say it can be harmful to someone neutral or dark?” the teen finally said.
“Exactly, though it’s particularly nasty for dark witches and wizards. When I attacked, as they say, all those kids what I really did was put them in a temporary coma…more like a really long petrificus totallus. In that state however, no potions or spells would work on them.”
“What did you do that for?” asked Harry a bit excited that he was one of the few if not the only person who knew the true motives behind Shadow’s attacks. “Tell me everything you know, Shadow.”
The other wizard stood there observing him for a good minute before he finally spoke “Alright. You deserve to know the truth.”
Shadow leaned his back on the wall, next to where Harry was sitting and started his explanations.
“Some time ago I’ve noticed that a certain group of children and teens is having odd health problems. I refused to believe that something that seemed to be a regular flu could influence their magical abilities. Not to mention the strange potion that seemed to make them feel better, but their magical performance remained ridiculously weak.”
“You think that’s the potion Pomfrey gave me?” asked Harry a bit calmer now. “But she’s such a good person, she wouldn’t hurt a fly. Why would she give something like that to students?”
“She may be a wonderful witch, but the person who suggested her to use that potion, definitely likes to meddle,” said Shadow with a sneer.
“But still…why would anyone do that? And what do you mean by meddling?” kept asking the teen.
“You really haven’t noticed?” answered Shadow with a question. However seeing confusion written all over Harry’s face, he continued. “Nothing like that happened to you before, but now, when your magic changed to be a little bit less light, someone gives you the potion that will block your true magical affinity from surfacing. Doesn’t that make you wonder? Someone is meddling with things that should be left natural. That’s why I approached all my so-called victims, because I believe they have the right to use their magic, regardless of what some light wizards think.”
“Why are you blaming light wizards all the time?” asked Harry a bit offended. He knew already he wasn’t light, but his parents were and it made him feel a little uncomfortable to hear someone offending them.
“I’m not trying to convince you to think badly about them, but only a light witch or wizard could come up with a potion like that; a potion that blocks mainly dark magical affinity.”
Harry didn’t look exactly convinced by what he just heard, but on the other hand Shadow already helped him once, then why would he lie to him now. He stood up and unconsciously started pacing through the empty corridor. The teen tried to make sense of everything he just heard – on one hand, Shadow’s theory did explain a lot; young witches and wizards attacked by him indeed felt much better and their marks in school have improved; also, remembering previous years in Hogwarts, Harry had to admit he did notice odd epidemics of flu every now and then. Now when he thought about it, every time that happened, the same group of students caught the flu and no one else.
The other wizard watched Harry walk there and forth thinking. He had a good guess what was on the young wizard’s mind and he couldn’t blame him. For over three years people were hiding things from him and showing him only one side of the conflict; Harry Potter knew only the light side’s story; he knew little to nothing about the dark side’s version of events. Now all the new information and new magical abilities confused the teen and normally Shadow would give him time to deal with the situation slowly; after all, he needed time to rethink his own situation and beliefs as well. However, the wizard knew they didn’t have much time. The plan was already in motion and the Dark Lord was pressuring him more and more with every passing day to work on Harry Potter.
“Listen,” he started, walking closer to Harry. “I don’t want you to share exactly the same beliefs I do. I wouldn’t mind to see you have your own beliefs, opinions and worrying about yourself a bit more, Potter.”
“Easy for you to say,” said Harry with a sneer. “You probably grew up in a wizarding family and knew everything about magical world. It’s not that simple to have my own beliefs, if I was raised by Muggles.”
“I’d say that’s a good thing to start with,” commented Shadow with a laugh and walked towards the darker part of the corridor. “First of all, don’t take that nutrition potion for two days and do as little magic as possible. Then go ask Moody to tell you more about magical affinities. You’ll benefit from it more than from that potion. And finally…try to remember what you wanted, what you dreamt of when you were a kid.”
Harry watched his companion disappear in the darker part of the corridor. After a moment of silence, he knew he was alone again. The teen paced there and forth, contemplating on what he just heard. Harry didn’t understand why anyone would plot all those things, but he knew one thing – he was fed up with all the secrets around him; the teen wouldn’t mind others having secrets, but for some odd reason all of those concerned him.
Not even thinking about his actions, the young wizard took out his wand and allowed his magic pour out of him. He didn’t even say any specific incantation, just focused on his anger and frustration, and the next thing he knew was bright red light coming out of the end of his wand and fly towards the far end of the corridor. With stunned expression Harry watched the spell hit the wall before him with enormous strength.
‘What in Merlin’s name happened just now?’ he said to himself, still shocked, yet at the same time fascinated that he managed to cast such a powerful spell. After all, he wasn’t able to do that for at least three days now. This sudden occurrence made him wonder again if what Shadow told him was actually right; maybe Shadow was telling him the truth again; maybe he truly should take a break and wait till his magic gets stronger.
‘Maybe I really need some rest. After all, Shadow never really lied to me so far,’ Harry thought to himself while gathering his belongings and rushing back to Gryffindor Tower. ‘Not to mention all the people Shadow confronted and how well their magical performance turned out in the end.’
Later that night Harry was already in bed and the last person awake in the dormitory.
He wasn’t surprised that even Ron didn’t wait for him to get back to the chamber, but what was surprising the most was the realisation that he didn’t care anymore; Harry noticed that everything that happened during the last few weeks changed his relations with Hermione, Ron and his other classmates. He didn’t feel the need to make up with his friends anymore. He found a new friend; a companion he has known for longer than Hermione and the Weasleys. After all, Harry met the dark companion from his dreams before he even knew he was a wizard; moreover, he had a feeling he met his dark friend much sooner; when he was still a child and the only family he knew were the Dursleys.
Remembering the Dursleys and his childhood spend with them, Shadow’s words from earlier that night popped into his head. The mysterious wizard wanted Harry to remember what he dreamt about when he was a child.
‘I wanted nothing more than to get away from them. I wanted some distant relatives to show up and take me away from the Dursleys.’ Harry thought to himself feeling anger slowly growing in him, because he actually had a distant relative that could have saved him back then – it was Sirius, and again the Dursleys never told him about his godfather. The teen hated them for hiding such important things from him. He thought about it many times before and he always came to the conclusion that his life could have turned out differently; he could have been raised in a grand house, like Malfoy, and would knew everything about the wizarding world. ‘I already have my own opinion on different magic related matters. I hate the Dursleys for taking that away from me…they are the worst type of Muggles.’
The moment he thought that last sentence Harry realised he sounded like Malfoy and other Snakes, but that wasn’t quite it. Indeed, the teen meant what he thought; he truly hated the Dursleys for being ignorant Muggles, who berated everything that had to do with magic. It didn’t mean he disliked Muggles in general though; but he admitted there was a group of nonmagical folk that Harry wouldn’t mind giving a lesson to on how they should not act towards wizards and witches.
Feeling his eyelids getting heavy Harry smiled to himself; Shadow’s advice proved to be a good one again and the teen already started forming his own opinions on wizarding community and its problems. Not only that – his old dreams woke up hope in him again and now he wanted to get away from the Dursleys, live with Sirius and most of all get back at all those who made his life so messed up…his Muggles relatives and the wizard responsible for his parents’ death.

It’s been three days since Barty’s meeting with the Dark. He sat in his office in the castle and thought about his task – he needed to find out what was the first task in the Triwizard Tournament, but so far he had no luck. It seemed everyone who knew something, kept it a secret.
He was brought out of his thoughts by a sudden knock on the door. The magical eye in his head moved quickly to check who was on the other side of the door. To Barty’s biggest surprise the person standing in front of his office was Potter.
‘What could he possibly want?’ ran through the wizard’s mind.
Moment later Barty recalled what the Dark Lord told him – he was to help Potter and answer any questions he might have. ‘Could it be?...But how did Master know that Potter will come to me to seek answers?’
With a swish of his wand the wizard opened the door to reveal a somewhat stunned teenager.
“What is it, Potter? What brings you here?” the man asked the moment the teen entered the room.
For a while he observed the younger wizard before him and had mixed feelings; he saw the teen struggling to say something, but wasn’t certain if it was alright to ask about it. “Spit it out sonny.”
“You see professor Moody…I wanted…I was wondering if you could tell me more about those different magical affinities,” seeing that the question didn’t shock or anger the teacher, Harry started asking more and more. “It made me wonder, the nature of magic…and if it’s a good or a bad thing to have one or another magical affinity; or maybe it’s something neither good nor bad; what about neutral magic.”
“One curious lad, aren’t you Potter?” said the wizard, laughing inwardly at the situation. He knew his Lord could predict a lot of things, but actually seeing the boy act exactly like the Dark Lord suspected he would, was fascinating.
However he needed to focus now and explain as much as he could to the boy – after all Voldemort told him to do so.
Barty haven’t noticed how fast the time flew while he talked with Potter; but finally after about two hours he was sure the teen got all the answers he needed.
“Professor,” asked Harry already standing up and wanting to leave. “I’ve got one more question. You said that it’s a natural thing to have one of those three affinities and that it’s very risky to try and change one’s magic, but if that’s true then why no one ever told us about it before? Why haven’t we ever heard about neutral magic? And why…” he hesitated.
“Why what Potter?” pushed him Barty.
“Why have I always heard that everything connected with dark arts is wrong and evil, if you just said that one cannot choose their own affinity? Does it mean someone with dark affinity is evil from the moment he is born?”
“Because the Ministry, as well as some other witches and wizards who survived the war don’t want kids like you to know the true nature of magic. Magic is neither good nor evil; even a light wizard can be an awful person, just like a dark wizard can be capable of great love and good things. It’s all about the person’s personality rather than their magic,” the older man stood up, walked to his desk, picked up an old looking, grey book with silver ornaments on the cover and handed it to Harry. “Here, take it. This might help you understand more about neutral magic.”
“Thank you, sir,” said surprised Harry, taking the book.
“But remember, Potter, not everyone likes the idea of students reading about this,” he stared at the boy and Harry immediately hid the book in his bag.
As soon as the younger wizard left his office, Barty started wondering what was going on. He was content he had already managed to fulfil one of Voldemort’s tasks, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking something odd was going on. On one hand, the Dark Lord wanted him to get Potter into the most dangerous tournaments known to the wizarding world, but on the other hand, he was to introduce the boy to neutral magic if the chance occurred.
- 11
- 12
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Harry Potter and the wizarding world