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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
- 16
- 17
- 18
Chapter 16 : There’s A Way – January 11, 1994

Harry circled the Black Lake, needing the cold winter air to help clear his mind and get away from the chaos brought on by the student’s return from their break. They had returned, full of energy and refreshed, ready to tackle another term of school. Harry, on the other hand, felt as old as McGonagall looked.

Even Marvolo thought Harry needed some time alone to think, so he stayed in his diary.

Ever since the will reading, Harry felt like all the plates he’d been keeping aloft all year long were threatening to fall around him. He had all these secrets, but no one he trusted enough to relieve the burden with. His friends were just learning what kind of man the Headmaster was, and to Ron, who’s family practically worshiped Dumbledore, it was a large blow. For Hermione, who respected authority to a ridiculous zeal, it was like pulling the rug out from under her. It would take both of them a long time to come to terms with this, and even now, almost a week later, they both still looked lost.

And there was Lupin. Harry had hoped by disclosing a few select truths, it would open the werewolf’s eyes, but he was disappointed. Not once had Lupin stood up for Harry at Gringotts, not when Dumbledore tried to blackmail Harry or not even when the Old Man tried to swindle Harry out of his inheritance. Now Harry was kicking himself for getting his hopes up because he had been overly optimistic that a single conversation would change Lupin’s mind. After all, the Headmaster had done so much for Lupin, letting him attend school and even letting him continue after attacking a student. Dumbledore’s claws were sunk too deep into the werewolf who’d lost his pack. Harry’s plans to keep working on Lupin would have to take a back seat to his more urgent plans.

And in the background of all this, were his developing feelings for Marvolo. Harry was very well aware that they couldn’t have any sort of real relationship, not just because Marvolo lacked a physical body either. Soon enough, Marvolo would have to reunite with his main soul piece, leaving Harry alone. With so many uncertainties in the air, one of which was how sane a resurrected Voldemort would be, Harry wasn’t sure if he could handle that kind of abandonment. He and Marvolo were close friends now, but how much more painful would it be if Harry gave his heart to Marvolo as well.

Too bad Harry was already half way there. He absolutely adored the little touches, embraces, kisses, and the undivided attention Marvolo paid him. Already, he couldn’t imagine life without his friend, and it was already painful to think of Marvolo leaving him. Harry could only hope that when Marvolo merged with Voldemort, that Voldemort would be more more gentled. Marvolo had assured Harry that this would be so, but Harry still had his fears.

Suddenly, the winds changed directions and brought the echoes of a pitiful wail to Harry’s ears. Sighing, he put all his worries back under his shields and focused on the heart wrenching sound. Seems like someone was suffering even more heart ache than he was. Curious, Harry quickly made his way towards the sound, finding himself at Hagrid’s Hut. Hagrid himself was in Buckbeak’s pen, hugging and crying all over the hippogriff.

“Hagrid?” Harry called, stopping at the edge of the pen.

Hagrid gave a loud sniffle and turned around. “Oh ‘arry! T’is goo’ ta see ya.” He wiped his face with a large handkerchief that he pulled from one of his many pockets. “Come in, ‘arry. Buckbeak likes visitors.”

Harry wasn’t so sure about that. Its eagle eyes were pinned onto Harry’s small form as he climbed over the pen. Probably thinking I’m a snack, he thought morbidly. Hagrid stopped him when he stood before the large creature.

“Nows it’s very important ya not make eye contact with ‘im yet,” Hagrid instructed, and Harry instantly dropped his eyes to the ground. “Then ya bow ter ‘im like this, and don’t cha move ‘fore Buckbeak bows back.”

Harry copied Hagrid’s movements, hoping with all his heart that he was conveying the utmost respect to the noble creature and that he hadn’t just presented what would look like a tasty morsel. He stayed bowed until to Harry’s delight Buckbeak bowed back.

“Alrigh’, ‘arry!” Hagrid seemed pleased too. “Now ya can pet ‘im, if ya wanna.”

Buckbeak didn’t give Harry a choice as his beak nudged Harry’s midsection in what was probably a hippogriff’s version of a nuzzle, but it nearly knocked Harry over if it weren’t for Hagrid’s stabilizing hand at his back. And then the hippogriff turned sideways and sat down.

This clearly made Hagrid even more excited. “He wants ya ter ride him. Tis the firs’ time he’s offered.”

Harry shot Hagrid a dubious look, but with Buckbeak’s impatient snort, Harry quickly scurried on with a helpful shove from Hagrid. Once he was settled right behind the wing joints, Buckbeak quickly rose to his feet and gave one giant flap of his wings.

“How do I steer?” Harry cried out in alarm and a healthy sense of fear, but he couldn’t hear anything from below. Left to his own devices, he scrambled for some place to secure his hands and decided to just fling his arms around Buckbeak’s neck just in time for another powerful thrust of his wings.

Now that he was more secure, Harry found himself laughing joyously. This was leagues beyond riding a broom. The smooth ride of a broom was too easy, too artificial. It was like driving a car. But on Buckbeak, he could feel every drawn breath and every beat of its mighty wings. It was instinctual, it was powerful, and it was alive! After making a wide circle, they gradually returned to where Hagrid was waving up at them.

“Oh that was amazing!” Harry said breathlessly as Hagrid helped him off. He kept one hand on Buckbeak’s shoulder though, not ready to lose contact with the magnificent creature. “How can Malfoy possibly want to kill him?” Harry frowned, not even being able to comprehend such mean heartedness.

Hagrid gave him a soulful smile. “I knews ya hadn’t changed,” he said.

Harry gave his friend a questioning look. “What do you mean?”

“Ah, tis nothin’,” he answered. “The Headmaster juss said ya were goin’ dark an’ all. But I know yer a good boy, ‘arry.” He patted the hippogriff with a large hand. “An’ Buckbeak thinks so too. He’s a great judge of character, he is.”

Harry looked away for several reasons. For one, he was really going dark, but not evil in the way Hagrid thought. Second, it angered him that Dumbledore was trying to turn his friends against him. And third, he felt guilty that he hadn’t been of more help with Buckbeak’s case. “I’m sorry, Hagrid. I know I haven’t been coming down here as often as I normally do.”

“Is alrigh’,” Hagrid said amiably. “I knows how busy ya are, what with personal lessons wit’ Professor Snape and even with Andy.”

Harry lifted an amused eyebrow. “Andy?” Harry teased.

Hagrid coughed slightly. “Er, don’ let her know I said tha’,” he asked. “Twas a joke between us is all.”

Harry giggled and petted Buckbeak once more. “You’re actually very friendly,” Harry said. “To listen to Hermione and Ron tell it, you were barely approachable.”

“Actually, I thinks he likes ya, a lot.”

Harry froze, suddenly struck by a ridiculous idea. “Who owns Buckbeak?” Said hippogriff gave an indignant squawk. “Sorry, sorry,” Harry quickly apologized and searched for a way to make his point without insulting the proud creature. “I meant…If I wanted to bring Buckbeak home with me, how would I go about it? Is there a contract to sign or do I have to pay someone?”

Hagrid gave him a surprised look. “Well, Buckbeak ‘ere twas a gift from some folks who I helped with a li’l issue of a fire salamander infestation.”

“So you…” Harry leaned forward and whispered. “You own him? I could buy Buckbeak off you?”

Hagrid sputtered. “’arry, why on earth would ya buy Buckbeak…Oh hush up,” he scolded the hippogriff and tapped him firmly on the beak in admonition. “Stop bein’ so sensitive.”   Surprisingly, the hippogriff settled down as if truly chastised. He turned back to an amused looking Harry. “Where would ya even keep ‘im?” he asked.

“That’s not the point,” Harry said. “If I buy Buckbeak off you, that means Lucius Malfoy would have to go through me to get to Buckbeak.”

“Awww, ‘arry,” Hagrid’s eyes got all wet again. “I canno’ ask ya to do tha’ for me. Ya weren’t even in my class tha’ day.”

“I’m not doing this just for you, Hagrid,” Harry said, patting the gentle giant awkwardly. “I’m doing it for Buckbeak too. If Lucius Malfoy had his way, Buckbeak would be facing a public execution just to prove some stupid point. I can’t let that happen! ” Harry looked up at Hagrid hopefully.

In answer, Harry found himself engulfed in a pair of huge arms that nearly squeezed him to death. “Oh, ya don’ know how much this means ta me,” Hagrid cried. “Maybe we can work out visitation rights too.”

Harry wasn’t planning separating Buckbeak from Hagrid, so he nodded. Finally, he was dropped to the ground and had to brace himself from falling over. “Okay, this is what we are going to do, and if it all works out than we’ll give a little grief back to Malfoy Jr.,” Harry said with a rather Slytherin smirk on his face, and Hagrid leaned forward eagerly. “Tomorrow at breakfast, in the Great Hall…”

The next day, Harry made sure he and his friends had a clear view of the Head table. Harry gave Ron, Hermione, and Neville a quick run down of what to expect. If for some reason things went south, he would at least have the support of his friends.

When he thought the Hall was reasonably full, he pulled out some official papers that Andromeda had helped him prepare. Then, he walked up to the Head table where Hagrid sat between McGonagall and Sprout. By now, he had sufficiently gained the attention of his fellow school-mates and teachers, for it was unusual for a student to approach the Head table during meals.

“Good Morning, Hagrid,” Harry said loudly, projecting his voice so everyone could hear. “Here’s the papers I promised you. Everything’s all signed and dated.” Harry placed the papers in front of Hagrid who made a show of inspecting it. “Once you sign on the dotted line, Buckbeak the Hippogriff will be mine.”

Hagrid gave a dramatic sniffle, though his eyes were shining in mirth instead of tears. “I’ll miss the old bird, but this is fer the bess,” he replied.

Hearing this, McGonagall gasped in shocked and the whole hall grew silent. They all knew how much Hagrid loved that hippogriff. “You’re selling Buckbeak? Are you sure, Hagrid?” McGonagall asked in concern.

“Tis the only way ta save ‘im,” Hagrid answered, and promptly signed his name, even as he gave a sniffle. “That will be a galleon, ‘arry.”

This earned another look of shock. A galleon for a tamed hippogriff. It was perhaps the best bargain ever made in Hogwarts history!

Harry cheerfully dug through his pockets and produced the gold coin, which he dropped with a loud clunk onto the wooden table.

Suddenly, Malfoy stood up so quickly that his chair flew out from under him. “What’s the meaning of this,” he demanded.

Harry turned around with a grin. “I thought it was obvious,” he answered. “I am now the proud owner of Buckbeak, the one who made a score on the Malfoy scion. He’ll be legendary in Gryffindor!”

The Gryffindors cheered in support.

Malfoy’s face twisted into a snarl. “You can’t buy that overgrown bird! He’s scheduled to be put down in April and that bumbling oaf of a teacher will get sacked.”

“Correction, Malfoy Jr,” Harry returned. “Buckbeak is no longer Hagrid’s responsibility. He belongs to me now, and I will assume all responsibilities for Buckbeak’s actions.”

A low chatter swept through the halls, but quickly quieted, as the slower students suddenly understood the true purpose behind Harry’s purchase.

“My father will hear about this,” Malfoy cried in outrage. “I’ll have that creature’s head stuffed and hanging on my wall by the end of term.” Several loud gasps came from the younger years in all the houses at the gruesome image that painted. Sprout, McGonagall, and Flickwick all shot disapproving glares at the boy’s grotesque language.

Instead of being rightfully intimidated, Harry threw his head back and laughed. “And you dare to call yourself a Slytherin?” Harry shook his head in mocked disappointment. “Where’s the cunning? Where’s the sharp wit and even sharper tongues that your house is so well known for?” Harry pressed. “All you ever do is hide behind your daddy’s money and reputation,” Harry said, before his voice grew serious. “Why don’t you use some of that vaunted Slytherin smarts and think about this Malfoy Jr… Would your father really risk his reputation to drag this whole thing to court? Does he really want to sue me, the boy-who-lived, and…” Harry flipped his Potter ring around so it became visible to everyone. He made sure the red and white caught the sunlight just right and got several appreciative ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhhs.’ “…and the Potter and Black Heir, just because you got a little scratched up?”

At this, at least ¾ of the school started laughing and even some of the older Slytherins joined in. Apparently, they were sick and tired of the grandstanding and bullying tactics of a measly 3^rd year. Some of them even turned their noses up at the Malfoy Heir, who had just been out-Slytherined by a Gryffindor no less.

Of course Malfoy couldn’t let that insult go. He was so angry, he actually pulled his wand out, but Harry didn’t react. He knew Malfoy wouldn’t do anything in front of all the teachers. Especially since the only one who, maybe, would stand up for him was Snape, but Harry was reasonably sure that even Snape was sick of Malfoy’s whining. Just the fact that none of the teachers had made a single move to stop this little show meant they didn’t appreciate how Malfoy attacked one of their own, the most kind hearted out of all of them.

“I deserve some compensation for emotional harm and suffering,” Malfoy demanded. His father had said so, because he was the injured party. Why was no one seeing this? The bumbling oaf was clearly incompetent and irresponsible, and he should pay for harming the only son and heir of the Malfoy line. “I missed several days of classes, stuck in a sling, and missed a Quidditch game.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh, we are all so sorry that you refused a magical treatment for a little scratch. But even so, I cast the diagnostic charms on you myself after the dementors had attacked. Your arm had been healed weeks ago, and this I am willing to testify under veritaserum, if need be.” Harry crossed his arms. “So what will it be? Will you write to Daddy and drop the suit or make me drag the Malfoy name through the ground? Because by the time I’m done, the Malfoy family will only be known as the family of whining cowards.”

“How dare you!” Malfoy snarled. It was for his Family name that he was even doing all of this. His honor had to be repaid! These Light sided fools couldn’t possibly understand.   Draco was going to teach this half-blooded freak a lesson in honor and raised his wand.

Seeing the situation escalating, Snape quickly rose to his feet. “Enough Mr. Malfoy,” he snapped, dark eyes flashing. He strode down the Slytherin table in several long strides, and snatched the raised wand out of Malfoy’s hands. “Don’t you even know when you’ve been backed to a wall? A proper Slytherin knows never to pick a fight in a lion’s den. We are the house of schemers and sly attacks...” His voice faded away as he took a firm hold of the boy’s shoulder and pushed him out of the hall.

To everyone else, it seemed like Snape was coaching Malfoy on how to get even, but Harry understood the warning for what it was. For the next couple days, he was going to keep his wand close at hand.

“Well, that was an interesting start of the day,” Dumbledore said, drawing everyone’s attention back on him. “Congratulations, Mr. Potter, for coming to the aid of a staff member. 20 points to you. Now, let us all enjoy our breakfasts before…” the bell interrupted his speech. “Oh well, there’s the class bell. Now off with you, and know that the teachers will be keeping an eye on the Slytherin and Gryffindors. There will be no attacks or retaliations on either side.”

After that, all the students shuffled around, gathering their things, but the excited chatter and occasional burst of laughter rose to an ear aching level. All day long, the teachers found inane and rather silly reasons to give Harry points. Even when he simply picked up a book he’d drop, Sinetra had awarded him 10 points for keeping the hallway clear of obstructions! Random students were coming up to him and shooting him a ‘that was awesome,” or a “you sure showed him.”

When Marvolo finally came out of his diary, at first he’d seemed bemused by all the positive attention his charge was getting, thinking it was some kind of prank Harry had pulled. That was until he learned what the source of all this unusual behavior was.

“You did what?” Marvolo didn’t exactly shout, but then again he didn’t need to. While Harry called Marvolo a very dear friend, he didn’t forget that Marvolo was an incarnation of the Dark Lord. A simple flash of those pale red eyes was all it took to emphasize his point. “You humiliated the Malfoy Heir, and you don’t think there will be any repercussions?”

But still, Harry was Harry, and he couldn’t let go without trying to defend himself. “No one else had the gall or political weight to stand up to Malfoy,” he said, crossing his arms. “And I couldn’t let Buckbeak be sacrificed to something as stupid as the Malfoy Pride.”

Marvolo studied the slightly indignant boy before him. Sometimes, the boy possessed such wisdom and cunning that he truly lived up to his title as Slytherin Heir to Marvolo’s Slytherin Lord. But times like this reminded him that Harry was equal parts Gryffindor. It was a contradiction, but his performance at the Great Hall showed how Harry could make these two unlikely qualities work for him. To be moved by such emotions and be so bold as to challenge the Malfoy Heir before the entire school was completely Gryffindor, and yet the cunning and maneuvering to humiliate Malfoy was completely Slytherin. After all, buying the hippogriff and transferring ownership had been a stroke of genius on Harry’s part. Hagrid, and his half giant status, would not have fared well against Lucius, not like Harry would.

“If you survive the backlash of Malfoy’s revenge,” Marvolo said, still sounding slightly doubtful. “I shall help you refine this queery mix of Gryffindor and Slytherin tactics.” Indeed such a mind would make Harry a formidable opponent in the future

Harry beamed up at his friend, relieved. If the worst happened, he would still have Marvolo’s support.

“Of course, you will also be facing Severus later as well.”

Suddenly, Harry’s face paled, and Marvolo laughed.

Thanks to Marvolo, instead of enjoying the fruits of his labor, he was now fretting over what Severus was going to do to him. And of course, when it came time to face his teacher, the evil apparition gave him a grin before disappearing into the diary.

“Traitor,” Harry muttered before knocking and letting himself into Snape’s office.

“I thought you might show yourself sometime,” Snape drawled, facing the nervous looking boy with a rather stern look. “Do you care to explain yourself?”

Harry shot his teacher a hopeful look. “I know Malfoy Jr.’s like your favorite, but he was being absolutely intolerable, and I’m sorry I made a spectacle before the whole school but I didn’t think anything less flashy would’ve gotten through to Malfoy.” As Harry spoke, the more passionate he became and forgot he was nervous about Snape’s reaction. He gazed up at his teacher in confusion and no small amount of resentment. “How come you haven’t done anything to stop Malfoy from attacking Hagrid?”

“Idiot boy!” Snape snapped, only getting a defiant glare back. “Of course I have. Multiple times. I appealed to his sense of Slytherin pride, made it clear that it wasn’t cunning nor advantageous to make enemies out of the teachers that have control over him for 9 months of the year.” Then Snape gave a frustrated huff. “He was going to drop the ridiculous notion until he was egged on by his father. Lucius demanded that the Malfoy Honor be restored by blood, but of course it was only a ploy to get a leg up on the Headmaster.”

Harry’s eyes widened. He hadn’t realized there were other driving forces behind Malfoy Jr’s attitude. Most likely, his little show in the Great Hall would look like he was championing Dumbledore by way of Hagrid, and brought the, admittedly powerful, ire of the Malfoy Head onto himself. “Great,” he moaned, finally realizing the ramification of his actions. No wonder Marvolo had been angry, and Snape too.

Snape gave Harry a smirk, seeing comprehension dawning in his eyes. “Let this be a lesson in not prodding the sleeping dragon,” he noted. “And you had better warn Andromeda about what happened.”

Harry nodded. His lawyer had prepared the papers for Harry to buy Buckbeak, but she didn’t know his plans about attacking the Malfoy family. That wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation either. Maybe I’ll just write a letter to her, he thought rather cowardly.

_O o 0 ^O0 o _Oo 0 ^O0 o _O o 0 ^O0 o _O

February 10, 1994

After the 20^thline of, ‘The adults in this school are here to teach me, and I will not disrespect them,’ Draco was ready to stab his quill into the paper and rip it to shreds. After the 40^th line, Draco was ready to stab his Quill into Professor Lupin himself! It had been more than a month since Potter’s little show in the Great Hall and the teachers were still giving him detention and taking points away for the stupidest things. If Draco hadn’t won their Quidditch game against the Ravenclaws, he was sure the entire Slytherin House would kick him out or something. At least his godfather was doing his best to shield him from the backlash of his foolishness.

Thinking about Uncle Sev made Draco confused. He knew now he should have listened to his godfather. Uncle Sev had warned him that it was a bad idea to target one of the teachers, even if that teacher was the stupidest bumbling fool of the lot. But at the time, everything was working so beautifully. They all tiptoed around him, afraid he was going to sue them just as he was doing to Hagrid. And the giant Oaf, himself, practically burst into tears whenever he was in Malfoy’s presence.

But then that four-eye Scarhead had to ruin it all. For most of the year, it looked like the boy-who-lived was too busy doing whatever he was doing to really pay attention to what was going on. And then suddenly, he had the idea of actually buying the bloody hippogriff off the half-giant! Behind all the anger and humiliation Draco felt, he could admit it was a brilliant idea, a very Slytherin idea, one that a Gryffindor couldn’t possibly have come up with on his own.

And yet, the scrawny four-eyed freak, countered every single argument Draco tossed at him in the Great Hall. No one was feeding him lines, and judging by Uncle Sev’s surprised look, he hadn’t gotten any coaching either.

Just as he reached the 90^th line, his internal musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. Glancing up, he saw Lupin open the door to let 2/3rds of the Golden Trio in, the Mudblood Know-It-All and the Weasle. Draco sneered at them, ignoring the smug look that the Weasle threw at him. The Gryffindors were becoming utterly unbearable in their smug looks. As if they had done anything to look smug about, Draco thought bitterly. It was all Potter’s doing, and yet the single person who had gloating rights wasn’t even using it! It confused Draco to no end.

“Are you almost done, Mr. Malfoy?” the teacher asked.

“Just about,” Draco replied, trying not to roll his eyes. As if he’d say no, not when it was obvious the teacher wanted him out.

“Then pack up,” the teacher ordered. “And remember, I won’t tolerate anymore name calling, especially towards your teachers.”

This time, Draco did roll his eyes, but he was also aware that they wanted him out of this room quickly. With a rather sinister grin, he muttered an eaves dropping charm, and attached it to one of the many knick knacks on the teacher’s desk as he passed. Then he sped out of the door and quickly ducked into an unused classroom, and activated the charm on his end. Sure enough, the sound of the three voices easily transmitted to his wand.

“…classes going?” came the teacher’s voice. Draco smiled, knowing he hadn’t missed anything important.

“Oh, things are going great, Remus,” the Weasle answered, and this made Draco’s eyes widen. The use of first names were definitely a sign of familiarity.

“Umm…was there a reason why you called us?” came the Mudblood’s voice. For some reason, she sounded nervous or anxious. “We’re suppose to meet Harry in the library.”

“This will only take a moment. There is something important, I’d like to ask you two.”

“If this is about Harry,” the Weasle said, also sounding nervous. “I don’t think he’d like us talking about him behind his back.”

Draco heard one of the three sigh deeply, before the teacher spoke. “I understand, but if you could give him a message for me…” Draco waited and imagined the two Gryffindors nodding or accepting. “Since the Will reading, you know the Headmaster and Professor Snape are fighting for custody of Harry, right?”

Draco had to slap a hand over his mouth to prevent a gasp. Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, is up for adoption? How could something as big as this not get around the school grapevine? No wonder the Scar Head looked so distracted all the time.

“Yeah, can’t believe Harry’s parents actually considered the Greasy Git as father material,” came Weasle’s voice, which was quickly followed by some kind of indecipherable shriek from the Mudblood, and then a muttered ‘sorry’ from the Weasle again.

The dynamics were fascinating. Somehow, Potter got his friends to accept the Slytherin Head, something he never thought the Weasle would ever do.

“Professor Snape seems to take good care of Harry,” came the Mudblood’s voice, almost defensively, and it was beyond Draco’s ability to imagine that the girl was actually defending his godfather against another teacher.

“There are things in Severus’ past that would only hurt Harry later on,” the teacher said. “It will be best if the Headmaster gains custody of Harry. There’s a lot that Albus can do that Severus cannot.” Then the teacher’s voice turned pleading, and Draco sneered. “Please make Harry understand. This is in his best interest. Severus has a dark past and will only end up hurting him.”

The Weasle sounded like he was going to argue, but something happened to quiet him, and Draco wished there was a visual component to this spell. He suspected it was the Mudblood’s doing because it was her voice that spoke next. “I think Harry’s really happy with Professor Snape, but we’ll tell him what you said,” she said.

To Draco, who had been trained to hear lies and knew the Golden Trio well enough, thought the Mudblood’s voice was too fake, or that she was merely humoring the teacher. But, somehow the teacher didn’t catch this little detail.

“Thank you, Hermione, Ron,” he had said, sounding relieved. Draco rolled his eyes. Gryffindor gullibility apparently worsened as you got older.

After that, Draco ended the spell when he heard the two students leave the room. No doubt they were heading to the library to tell their leader. Meanwhile, Draco had a letter to write to his father.

Greetings Father,

Once again, you have my apologies for the shame I have brought upon our family. But I hope that what I have to say will go far in making it up to you, Father.

Thanks to the eavesdropping charm you’ve taught me, I have overheard a very interesting conversation between Professor Lupin, Granger, and Weasley. I can only assume from the conversation that Potter just recently had his parent’s will read. In light of this, Potter’s guardianship is in question, and the two candidates are Uncle Sev and the Headmaster. Surprisingly, I surmise that Uncle Sev has a fair chance in winning because our DADA teacher pleaded for Granger and Weasley to convince Potter in accepting the Headmaster’s guardianship.

I wonder why Uncle Sev was even considered a candidate…

Anyway, I hope this news reaches you well, and you find it as interesting as I did.

Your Loving Son,

Draco

Draco folded his letter up and gave it over to Titus, his eagle owl to deliver. As he had written, he hoped this would put him back into his father’s good graces again. He shuddered at the thought of having to go home for Spring Break if his father remained so displeased with him.

The letter that came back to him a couple days later made Draco suddenly wonder if he had done the right thing by telling his father.

My Son,

This is intriguing news, indeed. News of Potter’s guardianship has not circulated through the ministry, no doubt your fool of a Headmaster has been trying to keep things as low profile as he could. I will make some inquiries of my own, and get to the bottom of this and take the appropriate steps. Meanwhile, I expect you to keep an ear out for any news pertaining to Potter’s guardianship. This could be the opportunity to cement our popularity in the eyes of those muggle-loving cretins. It would be a shame if we let it slip through our fingers.

As for your Godfather’s involvement in the Potter affairs, I can only say that he has a long history with Potter’s now deceased mother. That is all I am saying about the matter.   If you wish to know anymore, I suggest you go to your godfather.

LM

A/N: I hope my way of saving Buckbeak was unique and clever. The whole time turner thing just doesn’t sit well with me and I rather ignore such a device exists at all. Whenever time travel is introduced into a story, it just makes all the events in that story irrelevant, because you can just go back and have a do-over, like what happened in PoA. They failed to rescue Sirius the first time, used a time turner and rescued him the second time around. Why not use a Time Turner to erase all the tragedies that happened? So to me, Time Turners are just an easy way to solve a problem, and I am ignoring the fact that they exist in canon. And don’t even get me started on giving a 13/14 year old girl time travel capabilities just to get her school work done…argh!

Anyway, sorry for the rant. Next up : Marvolo and Harry track down a certain Rat we all love to hate!
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In Servitude of the Dark: The Hand That Guides Me