Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

In Servitude of the Dark : My Obiesance	By : xXxLuckyxXx Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 39418 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 12
Disclaimer: This story is based off of J.K. Rowling’s amazing Harry Potter series. All characters, locations, themes from the world of HP belong to her. This is not for money or profit. I am just having fun playing in her magical world.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
A/N: Hello everyone, I'm back. Sorry about the longish wait. Like I've said before school is taking up most of my time, and I am also splitting my time up to help my grandma. Plus, when I did try to update, my internet crashed on me, and that was in the middle of replying to reviews! So I am sorry if I didn't get to yours, there was a common question to a couple of them, so I will answer it here.

Can Harry still speak parseltongue? For now, the answer is yes, because there is still a link between Harry and Marvolo. Once Marvolo completely merges with the main soul piece, then the scar-crux link will be severed, and Harry will lose the ability to speak to snakes. Even then, with Harry being a horcrux for so long, I think it would have permanent effects on Harry's mind and magic…for instance he will have a higher affinity towards the other horcruxes (hint…hint…).

I hope that answered that question sufficiently…

(¯`·._.·(¯`·._.·(¯`·._.·In Servitude to the Dark: My Obeisance·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯)

Chapter 6 : Back to Hogwarts – 4th Year – August 15, 1994

The first time Harry saw Severus wield a sword, he immediately fell in love with the notion. Even though the wand was the deadlier weapon, for some reason a clean, sharp blade spoke more to the Gryffindor part of him. Shortly after Marvolo caught Severus up on where Harry was in his magical and physical training, they both decided it would be prudent to start Harry on weapons.

To Harry's surprise, Severus actually had a room inside his manor completely devoted to weapons, which he aptly named as the Weapon's Room. "Wow, can you really use all these?" Harry asked, eyes wide, and waved his hand to take in all three walls.

All sorts of swords, from several time periods and continents, were hung up and displayed on the far wall. There were such swords as long, broad, short, oriental, curved, double edged, single edged, and all combinations in between. The wall on the right had all sorts of long distance type weapons including, cross bow, long bow, throwing stars, throwing daggers, darts, boomerangs, and even a slingshot. The left wall had all other weapons like mace, wooden staff, fan blades, battle axes, sai, spears, and whips.

"Don't be absurd," Severus said. "No one can master all of these weapons. This is just my Family's collection."

"Most of these are just for show," Marvolo confirmed. "However a wizard who is serious in the blood sports, as all my Inner Circle Death Eaters are, is adept at using a couple of weapons." Marvolo turned to Severus. "I believe your favorite is a double edged long sword."

Severus inclined his head and went to remove a blade that had to be at least 35" long. Harry practically salivated when his teacher gave the elegant sword a few practice swings. It cut through the air in a very satisfying 'whooosh'.

Harry's reaction, of course, did not go unnoticed by Marvolo. "I have always enjoyed watching your sword dances, Severus. Perhaps a demonstration is in order?"

Harry nodded eagerly.

"It has been a long time…" Severus replied, but even as he spoke, he was already removing his outer robes and rolling his sleeves up.

Harry watched as Severus at first tested the sword in his grip, swinging in it in different angles as if to get accustomed to its weight and feel again. Harry could immediately tell when his teacher went from practice to the real demonstration. His teacher's dark eyes narrowed intensely, his center of gravity lowered and was well balanced between his shifting stances. Harry's eyes glittered on how the blade swished through the air, sometimes moving so fast that it was just a blur.

It was no wonder Marvolo called it a sword dance. Severus treated the long sword as if it were a living extension of his arm. As the blade flashed and cut through the air, Harry could almost envision Severus' cutting down his imaginary opponents. A mid level thrust to spear through the heart, a wide and low slash to sever tendons behind the knee, and a forward downward arch to behead the enemy. All the while, Severus' long legs carried him from one end of the room to the other in long, graceful strides, his body twisting and turning to meet imaginary parries and dodges. Severus poise and mastery was so complete that at no time did he ever lose control of the blade.

Severus ended the deadly dance with a groin to head, upward slice that would easily disembowel a man. Having practically held his breath during the entire demonstration, Harry clapped excitedly. "That was wicked!" Harry crowed. "When will I be able to do something like this?" He turned expectedly towards his two teachers.

"Unless you take to the blood sports as fast as you do Quidditch, it will be many years before you reach this level of mastery," Marvolo answered honestly as Severus wiped down the blade and replaced it on the wall.

This did not diminish Harry's enthusiasm the least bit. He was willing to work long and hard if he could look like his teacher.

"Your first task is to choose a weapon that will suit you," Severus added.

Immediately, Harry's eyes landed on this platinum looking giant with all sorts of gems twinkling on its hilt. "Oooh!" He reached out for it like a kid in a candy store and hefted it up with a clumsy two handed grip. The tip clunked heavily against the marbled floor, almost tipping the lightweight boy over too. "Er…"

Suddenly, Severus doubted the wisdom of putting such a dangerous weapon in the hands of Harry Potter. He gingerly removed the monstrosity out of the teen's hands, and shot an uncertain glance at the Dark Lord, but the apparition was only looking indulgently at his charge. Marvolo steered the enthusiastic child away, and towards section that was much more fitting of Harry's smaller size.

Seeing them, Harry scowled. "Shouldn't I get a longer weapon to make up for my size?"

Marvolo shook his head. "And trip over it?" he returned in amusement. "No, you will never be strong enough nor big enough to fight head on with some like Severus." Seeing Harry glare angrily at this, he wrapped himself around the disappointed child. "Your skills lay in your speed and agility, my little one. You will strike like a snake, fast and fatal from the shadows."

That mollified Harry's disappointment-a bit.

Harry spent most of that day handling all sorts of weapons, waving them around to get the feel of their weight and balance in his hands. Meanwhile, Marvolo explained how each one was best used, sometimes having Severus demonstrate. Like the rapier was used primarily for thrust attacks, the machete used for hacking, and the katana for slicing. Harry didn't have the arm length for thrust attacks, nor was he strong enough or tall enough for hacking, and the katana was too long for his short arms. Harry learned for himself that the huge broad swords and elegant long swords just made him feel too clumsy.

After a couple hours, Harry decided on a shorter, curved scimitar. It was good for deflecting and its curved edge made for quick draws and let him attack from unexpected angles. To compliment Harry's scimitar, Severus picked up a near identical one. If Harry thought he would instantly start on sword forms, he would be disappointed. Instead, for the rest of the night, Severus had Harry do drills, swinging the sword in all 8 directions until Harry swore he was going to have nightmares of his teacher calling out the numbers.

And then, Severus stepped in, using his own scimitar to counter, still in drill fashion. The first time the two blades crashed against each other, Harry was not at all prepared. His wiry arms stung painfully, its vibrations reverberated all the way down to his toes. The shock of it nearly made him drop his weapon. Severus smirked back, and Harry's eyes narrowed in determination. By the end of the night, his fingers felt numb, and his arms felt like lead weights, too heavy to even bother wiping the sweat from his brow.

To give Harry's poor arms a break, they alternated weapons training with magical dueling. Thanks to all his previous training, Harry was not completely pathetic, which was a pleasant surprise for Severus. Still, it was soon obvious to Harry that practicing against a live person, an Inner Circle Death Eater no less, was far different from practicing against a dueling dummy. What was an academic exercise quickly turned into a real fight. Severus was not going easy on him, knowing what was at stake, and Harry got real bruises, real cuts, and sometimes even real broken bones. The danger of it all, made Harry appreciate the value of dodging and being quicker on his feet.

There was only 2 weeks before school opened again, and it seemed like everything had to be fit within this 2 week window. Harry was only in his fourth weapon's lesson when Severus received a phoenix patronus from the Headmaster, carrying a summons for him to report to Hogwarts.

Hearing the summons, Harry quickly rested the tip of his scimitar on the floor. They were all expecting some kind of summons, so it shouldn't have made Harry feel nervous, but lately anything to do with Dumbledore made him anxious.

"My Lord, I am sure this pertains to the riot at the World Cup. Is there anything in particular you wish for me to report?" Severus asked Marvolo, quickly falling into his role as spy.

"You may relay your suspicions of Lucius," Marvolo answer. "However do your best to distract him from my or Harry's involvement."

"It shall be as you say," Severus replied before turning to Harry. "I want 100 swings for each direction. Do not stop or rest until you've finished your drills. I will be back tonight." He nodded to the both of them, before turning on his heel and leaving the Weapon's Room in a swirl of black robes.

Hearing this, Harry groaned.

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

August 18, 1994

"Albus, you wished to see me?" Severus said, opening the door to the Headmaster's office without waiting for the customary invitation. There was no point anyway because he knew the Headmaster had set up detection charms and would know whether or not he knocked.

"Prompt as always. Have a seat, my boy." Albus indicated the vacant chair and prepared tea set. "Tea?"

Severus shook his head, studying his employer as he sat down. Though it was hard to tell with Albus, it looked like the elder wizard had seen better days. "Any trouble with the ICW?"

"Just the usual bickering between old men," Albus answered, stroking his long beard. "However, because of the…distinctive outfits worn by our rioters, there are some who are quite unsettled. Tell me, Severus, is there cause for concern?"

"As you probably know," Severus began. "I had the dubious pleasure of speaking with Lucius shortly after the attack." Though Lucius was a fellow Death Eater, it didn't mean Severus liked the pompous and arrogant man. It often baffled Severus why everyone thought he was so close to the Malfoys, just because he was chosen to be Draco's godfather. That honor, if you could call it that, had nothing to do with friendship, but everything to do with what a Potion's Master and teacher of Hogwarts could do for the Malfoy Heir.

"Yes, you made the front cover of the Daily Prophet," Albus replied, twinkling in amusement, knowing how such a picture would irritate the Potion's Master.

Severus scowled back. "Indeed, Lucius came up to me simply to gloat, not in so many words of course. He basically admitted to me that he wants to become the next Dark Lord. The World Cup Riot was his way of demonstrating his power, and asked me to reconsider my loyalties." Here Severus rolled his eyes. "How successful he will be, only time can tell."

Albus looked genuinely surprised by this. "So this has nothing to do with Voldemort returning?"

Severus shook his head. "I believe this attack can be laid at Lucius' feet from start to finish."

Albus continued to stroke his beard thoughtfully. "If that is the case, then you are correct. I don't think Lucius has the power or cunning to lead this generation of dark wizards, despite his popular position in the ministry. However, it would be unwise of us to completely discredit the potential threat Lucius can have to the Light. I want you to keep me updated on that and be alert to any possibilities of Voldemort's return."

Severus inclined his head in agreement, not too surprised by the order. Who else would the Headmaster ask to infiltrate the dark community? Then he leaned forward. "Have you had any indications or signs of the Dark Lord's return?"

Albus shook his head. "Only a growing sense of foreboding. Each year it becomes stronger," he replied, cryptic as always. "I understand you took Harry to the World Cup, with Sirius' permission. How is he handling all this?"

"I removed Harry from the camp at the first sign of danger," Severus easily lied. "He was a little disappointed having missed out on all the excitement…typical Gryffindor, but otherwise he was more excited about re-enacting some of Quidditch plays than the attack."

"That's unfortunate," Albus said, frowning.

Severus raised an eyebrow, honestly perplexed. "How so? I would think you'd want to keep Harry safe from the Death Eaters."

"It is time that Harry sees for himself what we are fighting against," Albus replied. "Before now, all he knows about the Dark have been abstract theories and stories. But if he could see for himself just how ruthless and vile the Dark really is, he will be less susceptible to being seduced into the forbidden arts."

Severus frowned at this, and not just because of Albus' prejudice against the Dark Arts. "I believe Harry has suffered enough to fill his nights with nightmares. There is no need to haunt him with the screams and deaths of those burned in their tents or the tears of terrified children."

"You cannot shield him forever, Severus," Albus said. "Sooner or later, the boy will have to face his destiny and defeat Voldemort."

"But not alone," Severus returned sharply. "And not without preparation. Speaking of which, do you really think it wise to let Hogwarts host the Triwizard Tournament? Especially just after what happened with the World Cup?"

"Fear not. I will set an age line. Only those in 6th or 7th year may enter the tournament," Albus replied, waving his hand negligently. "Besides, it is the best time to encourage international cooperation and relations. We will need our foreign allies before too long, I think."

Severus wasn't so sure about that, but let the matter drop. He stayed in Albus' office to discuss the next year's curriculum. Having taught the same subject for more than a decade there was very little Severus had to prepare for. That was not so for Sirius, who between volunteering his time to help the Ministry, also had to brush up his DADA knowledge and set up his classroom and office.

When Severus got back to Prince Hall, it was shortly before dinner. With Harry's Hogwarts Letter in hand, he found the boy still in the Weapon's Room, having abandoned the scimitar. Instead, the boy was throwing small knives at a target, 5 meters away, while the apparition of the Dark Lord observed and gave instructions.

Both of them turned, sensing Severus' magical signature. "Look, Severus," Harry was the first to speak up, gesturing to the target.

Judging by the impressively accurate aim, this was not the first time Harry practiced with throwing knives. Then Severus studied the small daggers, each one no bigger than Hedwig's flight feathers. He approved of the Dark Lord choice of long distance weapons. The small knives were very versatile and easy to hide.

During dinner, Severus was treated with an hour by hour account of Harry's day. The boy seemingly spoke without having to breathe or even chewing his food before swallowing. "…and Marvolo said you could teach me how to brew poisons so I could lace the throwing knives…"

Severus choked a little, hearing this. Teach Harry Potter how to brew poison! That sounded even worse than putting a scimitar into the boy's hands. About to open his mouth to say so, one stern look from the Dark Lord had Severus shut his mouth. Severus might have only met the apparition a week ago, but he could already see how the horcrux catered to Harry's every need. There didn't seem to be a limit to what the apparition would do, as long as Harry was smiling at the end of the day.

It wasn't just one sided either. Harry, who Severus knew was a very private and distrustful teen, was completely open with the Dark Lord. He allowed the apparition to touch, however intimately or possessively, without reserve. Later, Severus learned that Harry was continually and voluntarily feeding the apparition his magic. To Severus, this parasitic relationship didn't seem very healthy, but he'd never seen Harry more happier than when he was with his friend.

When Harry finally wound down, the Dark Lord turned to ask how Severus' meeting with the Headmaster went. Severus recounted the infuriating conversation. In all the time he worked at Hogwarts, Severus never remembered leaving that office satisfied.

"It appears we are all waiting for someone to make a move, then," Marvolo concluded.

"Are you concerned about Lucius trying to take over?" Severus wondered.

At this, Marvolo snorted. "Lucius is a mediocre wizard who was only ever useful in the politically arena," he answered. "But with Harry at my side, I have no need for one who thinks himself above his station. If Lucius dares to betray me, it will be no big loss to remove him."

The next day, Harry received his Hogwarts letter. Because of all the chaos that came from the riot, all the Hogwarts Letters were delayed, but thanks to Severus, Harry got his early. "Dress robes?" Harry asked quizzically, noticing the unusual item under the list of 'requirements.'

"It is a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament that a dance be held either during Winter break," Severus answered.

Harry's eyes widened. "Dance?" he asked.

"Yes," he answered, amused by Harry's shock. "Have anyone special in mind?"

At this, Harry shot a troubled glance at Marvolo and squirmed uncomfortably. "Ummm, no. When did I have time to even find someone I'd like?" he asked, flustered. Suddenly an image of Ginny Weasley popped in his mind and he shuddered. "I'm going to go get ready."

Severus waited before Harry was out of ear shot before turning to the Dark Lord. "I didn't think you would let Harry go to the dance."

"And why not?" Marvolo returned. "As long as it is a girl he chooses and one of respectable status, I care not otherwise."

"Ah…" That answered the mystery of Harry's orientation. All wizards and witches were bi-sexual, but leaned stronger towards one gender or the other. To Severus' knowledge, Harry had never shown romantic interest in any of his classmates, and not for lack of trying either. But if Harry preferred his own gender, then the Dark Lord would not feel quite so competitive over a female companion.

They met Sirius in Diagon Alley, sipping butter-beer in a rather hidden corner of the Leaky Cauldron. He insisted that he missed out on shopping for Harry all those years, and not even the Minister of Magic himself could keep him from his godfatherly duties.

Severus noticed how Sirius' eyes darted around the room as if looking for something or someone. "Are you expecting anyone else?" he asked, silently praying that it was not the Weasley Clan.

"Huh?"

"Eloquent as always." Severus rolled his eyes. "I asked if there was anyone else you're waiting for?"

Sirius absently scratched the back of his head. "Oh no, but I've got the oddest feeling someone's been following me, you know? Or someone's watching me."

"Followed?" Harry repeated alarmed and sunk a little lower into his chair before giving the murky tavern a suspicious glance too.

"Yeah. Just this morning, after I left Hogwarts, I even thought I heard footsteps. But a detection charm couldn't find anything." He shrugged helplessly.

Harry's eyes went wide, but Severus merely nodded, not seemingly alarmed by this at all. "Are you keeping up with your meditation?"

Sirius looked back guiltily. "Between the Ministry and Hogwarts, I haven't exactly found the time."

"You idiotic buffoon," Severus scolded. "It's no wonder you look as shifty as Knockturne thief in an antique shop."

"Hey!"

Severus ignored Sirius' protest and pulled out a potion vile. "It's a mood stabilizer. Drink it. I'll owl a batch to your Hogwart's office."

Realizing his godfather's paranoia was only because of the lingering dementor effects, Harry rose back up in his chair, feeling a little silly for getting all worked up too. "So you're staying at Hogwarts now?"

"That's right, Pup," Sirius replied. "Too much to do otherwise. Er…unless you need me back at Prince Hall?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm good." It was probably better that Sirius left them alone for the rest of Summer so Harry wouldn't have to worry about training with Marvolo. "So are you done planning your classes yet?" Harry asked, sipping at his iced tea.

"Are you kidding? I'm still trying to make some sense out of what your last few teachers taught!" Sirius replied, and then he turned to Harry with incredulous disbelief. "I mean, pixies? Really? I even had to go ask McGonnagall to see if I got the right syllabi. It's no wonder no one caught onto me when I was a fugitive, well except for you, Pup."

Harry chuckled. "Well, it's not like we ever had a proper dueling instructor. The one time we had a demonstration, Severus took out our DADA teacher with a single disarming spell. Maybe you can include that into your plans. Oh, and curses too. Professor Lupin was good compared to the others, but all he covered were dark creatures."

"That's good," Sirius replied. "As an ex-auror, all I am really qualified to teach is dueling and magical defense anyway."

After they finished their drinks, Harry showed his godfather the list of school supplies he needed. Sirius' eyes lighted on the 'dress robes,' and happily dragged Harry to the Diamond District. That was the start of Harry's whirlwind shopping spree. Money, of course, was not going to be an issue, not when you had the Head of the House of Black as your godfather.

Harry was happy learn that he'd outgrown most of the clothes he bought last year. With a whole year of regular meals he finally got a small growth spurt of 3 whole inches, putting him at 5'2"-aided by liberal use of nutrition potions. For a newly turned 14 year old, he was still slightly small for his age, but he no longer looked like he had leprechaun or goblin blood in his ancestry. Also, a whole summer of physical training put wiry muscles onto his still small frame.

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

August 31, 1994

Harry was glad to be on the Hogwart's Express. He had the option of following Severus directly to Hogwarts last week for the beginning of the year staff meeting. But as much as he enjoyed his time at Prince Hall with Severus and Marvolo, it was a little stressful for a 14 year old boy to be constantly in the presence of such intense people. So he was feeling a little lonely for company his own age.

Harry, arriving by the Knightbus, managed to get onto train a little late. Just as he found all this friends collected in a single compartment, the train was already starting to roll. "Hey guys," Harry greeted as he pushed open the compartment door. They all looked up and waved welcomingly to him, except for Ron in the far corner. When their eyes met, Ron's turned dark and he deliberately turned away to engage Neville in whatever they were talking about before Harry interrupted them.

Sensing the tension between Harry and his former best friend, Neville looked confused and Hermione looked apologetic. "They've been at this since Ron found out Neville missed the World Cup," Hermione whispered, looking quite exasperated with all this Quidditch talk.

"And that's Ireland's SkyHawk play," Ron said, doing his best to pretend Harry wasn't there. "See how Moran…."

Well, Harry wasn't going to let Ron's attitude cut him out of the group. "So, you didn't get to go?" Harry butted in.

Neville looked between Ron and Harry, feeling like the other two were actually fighting over him, something that has never happened before. "Ummm…Gran didn't want to go," he finally said, looking miserable. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though."

"It was," Ron continued. "Look what else I got…." He rummaged in his trunk and pulled out the miniature figure of Victor Krum.

"Oh, wow," Neville stared as Ron tipped the figurine into his hand. "What was he like?"

Ron shot a nasty glare in Harry's direction. "Ask him," he sneered. "The players all flew up to the VIP Box, and Harry was in it. We should have been too, but somebody stole our seats."

Harry opened his mouth to argue back, but Hermione decided to jump in before curses started flying. "Well, I for one thought Neville was lucky. He didn't get caught up in the riot later…" she shivered, her eyes looking haunted. "It was absolutely horrible."

Thankfully, Hermione's distraction worked. The topic of the World Cup Riot was still a very hot topic. "Severus took me away before I got to really see anything," Harry had to say. "But the Prophet got this picture of them wearing masks and black robes."

Both Ron and Neville shivered at the mention of Death Eaters. "Dad is still running around Ministry dealing with the fall out," Ron said quietly. "And Percy just runs around feeling important, sucking up to Crouch or whoever else is around."

"At least someone in your family knows who the right sort are." All conversation froze when Draco Malfoy appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, his enormous, thuggish cronies, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer. Evidently, they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Harry absently left ajar.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," Harry said coolly.

Predictably, Malfoy just ignored Harry as if he hadn't said anything. Ever since Harry won the Buckbeak incident last year, Malfoy was a little more careful in dealing with Harry. But the other ones in the compartment were all fair game, especially Ron it seemed. "So…going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know…you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won…"

"What are you talking about?" snapped Ron.

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated as if Ron were a mentally challenged child. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

Before Harry could answer, Hermione jumped in. "Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy," she said testily.

A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's pale face. "Don't tell me you don't know?" he said delightedly, turning back to Ron, who was growing redder by the minute. "You've got a father and a brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? Merlin, my father told me about it ages ago…heard it from Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry…Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley…yes…they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him…"

"If you mean the Triwizard Tournament, that's old news," Harry interrupted, feeling smug at the sound of Malfoy's jaws clicking shut. That was until he realized his friends were staring at him too, and not in a good way. "What?"

"You mean you knew something was going on, and you didn't tell us?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I thought you both knew," Harry replied defensively and shot a glance at Ron. "I mean your father…" Harry trailed off, realizing too late that he was only making things worse. "Well, he was talking up a storm with Ludo Bagman at the World Cup!"

"What does Bagman have anything to do with this," Ron shouted back. "And don't you dare blame my father. He could've got a promotion at any time…he just likes it where he is."

Harry held his hands up, as if warding against his friend's anger.

"Don't get your wand in a twist, Weasley," Malfoy laughed, thoroughly enjoying the sudden tension between the Golden Trio. "Potter's just finally realizing how low your family really is. Took him about four years to realize it, but better late than never, I suppose. You better be careful or he'll leave his little sidekicks…"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry hissed, irritated at how Malfoy was just aggravating everything. "What does it matter who knows what anyway, when it's obvious you aren't going to be picked for Hogwart's Champion." Not wanting this to degenerate any further than it already had, Harry immediately closed the compartment door and sealed it magically. But it was too late. They could hear Malfoy and his cronies laughing hysterically down the corridor.

The mounting tension in the closed room was stifling. Ron was in the corner, glaring both at the compartment door, where Malfoy had stood, and at Harry, almost like he didn't know who he was madder at. Hermione had her arms crossed, looking annoyed at everything. And poor Neville pushed himself against his seat as if he could disappear right through it. But true to his Gryffindor nature, he was the one who gently broke the silence.

"Er…Gran's on the Board of Governors, and I didn't know about the tournament either," Neville began throwing Ron a look of understanding before turning to Harry curiously. "Can you tell us what it's all about?"

"Yes, Harry, please enlighten us common folk," Hermione added snarkily. It was obvious she was annoyed that someone knew something she didn't.

Harry bristled at her tone. Considering how they kept talking behind his back last year, he thought it was a little rich of her to take offence. "Look, it's not like I was trying to keep it a secret," he snapped and turned to Neville. "It's called the Triwizard Tournament, where three of the best magical schools, Hogwarts, Beaubaton, and Durmstrang, come together. A champion is chosen to represent each school by some special ritual, and the three champions compete against each other for the prize. The last Triwizard Tournament was about a couple hundred years ago and the tournament was abolished because it was so dangerous. I mean, students died! Personally, I think the Headmaster's an idiot for reviving it."

"So, are you going to compete, then?" Ron asked, his voice low and angry. "I'm sure they wouldn't stop Harry Potter from competing."

Harry glared back. "Didn't you hear what I just said? People died!"

"Yeah, but not the Boy-Who-Lived," Ron argued back.

"You're impossible!" Harry threw his hands in the air. "What the hell do you want me to say? I'm sorry your family didn't tell you anything. They probably wanted it to be a surprise. But it's not my fault. I only found out because I've been staying with Severus." Of course, he wasn't going to say he found out through a vision Marvolo had.

At this, Hermione glanced at Ron uncomfortably. "Your family was teasing us about something happening at Hogwart's this year and about us not wanting to go back home for Christmas break, remember? It drove the Twins nuts."

It was obvious Ron knew what she was talking about, but he humphed anyway and turned his back to them all. His bad mood continued for the rest of the journey. He didn't talk much as they changed into their school robes, and was still glowering when the Hogwart's Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of the Hogsmeade station. Hermione tried a couple times to entice him back into conversation, but eventually gave up, muttering 'stubborn prat.'

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads. Several dozen carriages, pulled by thestrals, which only a few people like Harry could see, were waiting for them outside the station. The four gratefully climbed into one of them, the door shutting with a snap. A few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages were rumbling and splashing its way up the track towards Hogwart's Castle.

A/N: My first experience with weapons was very much like Harry's. After an awesome demonstration, I went to pick up the biggest, most impressive sword on display. I was stunned by how heavy it was and nearly dropped it on my own foot! Even now, I prefer the bow over swords, but Harry's a Gryffindor, so he gets a sword. LOL.

As for Sirius' little paranoid moment, I think you guys can guess what is going on. Cookies to those who guess correctly!

And sorry again for the slowing updates, and even more sorries for not replying to all of your wonderful reviews. I am averaging 93 reviews/chapter which is exceeding beyond all my wildest expectations. But with everything going on in real life, I can't keep up with them and provide regular updates at the same time. I do read every single one, and each of them-with the exception of a rare one or two-makes me as happy as you guys getting an update.

Up Next - Sirius as the DADA Professor!
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In Servitude of the Dark : My Obiesance