Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

In Servitude of the Dark: The Hand That Guides Me	By : xXxLuckyxXx Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 74969 -:- 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
- 6
- 7
- 8
A/N: Anyway, since I luv you guys all so much and it is still the weekend, I am posting another chapter! Chapters will come quickly for at least 46 chapters, because that's how much I've got written. Enjoy!

"spoke words"

written words

Chapter 7 : Knot of Misery – August 31, 1993

Morning, Marvolo. How are you feeling?

Adequate.

Harry cringed at the answer. Adequate for Marvolo was probably pretty crummy. I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to help make you stronger?

No apologies necessary, my Little Serpent, came the response and Harry grinned at the pet name. Was there an explanation for the dementor's presence on the train?

Not just on the train, Harry wrote back. Dumbledore says they'll be around the school too. They're looking for Sirius Black.

Idiots

Harry could almost hear the snarl and see the flash of red eyes. Is there anything I can do to protect myself from them? I don't even think I can get close to them without feeling sick. It took a moment for Marvolo to answer back, and Harry took a few seconds to check if his dorm-mates were still snoring away.

There is a charm, call the Patronus charm, Marvolo replied. I will teach it to you, but in the mean time I will show you how to make a Knot of Misery tonight.

Harry stared at the words, not liking the sound of anything with the word Misery in it. Is this dark magic? Harry scribbled down.

Yes, and it will serve as a decent introduction to the dark arts.

Will you be strong enough to leave the diary tonight? Harry wanted to know.

For this I will.

Okay. I'll see you tonight then. I have to go to breakfast now.

Be safe, my little one.

Harry gave the page a small smile before closing the book and tucking it safely inside the inner pocket of his robes. With September 1st falling on a Sunday this year, classes didn't start until tomorrow, giving the students an opportunity to look over their class lists, find their classes, and complete any unfinished homework over the summer, or in Harry's case to read ahead. With that in mind, Harry slipped his potion's book into his bag and after a thought also added an advanced Charm book he got over the summer. Marvolo had told him the name of the charm to ward off dementors, and Harry was determined to at least know the basics of it before his lessons with Marvolo.

Because it was only Sunday, students were trickling into the Great Hall at random intervals. Not Surprising, Hermione was already up, eating and reading, no doubt doing a final check on her homework. Neville was there as well, but the other three Gryffindor boys were still up at the tower. Harry nodded to them as they spotted him and then cocked his head towards McGonnagall, who was passing out their individual class schedules, as were the other three House Heads.

"Out of all the excitement this summer, I forgot to ask which classes you picked," Hermione said as soon as Harry seated himself.

"Hold on, let me check." Harry ran his eyes down the class list and frowned. "They must have gotten Ron's mixed up with mine," he finally said.

"Oh, why do you say that?" Both Hermione and Neville craned their necks to peak at the schedule.

"Because I decided not to sign up for Divination or Care of Magical Creatures after all," Harry replied. "Hold on, let me go talk to Professor McGonnagall."

This earned him a proud look from Hermione. "Runes and Arithmancy, then," she nodded.

Harry smiled weakly at her before heading back up the Head table. "Excuse me, Professor McGonnagall, but I think I got the wrong schedule." He slid it over. "See, I signed up for Healing and Politics, but I know Ron signed up for Care and Divination."

Professor McGonnagall shot him a stern look before examining his schedule. "No, there has been no mistake, Mr. Potter," she replied.

Harry looked at her frowning. "But I sent you my choices for Electives. I got all the right signatures and approval letters and everything."

McGonagall nodded. "Indeed you did, but the Headmaster believes these are the better courses for you."

Harry's frown darkened into a glare. "But it's my schedule!" Harry protested. "What right does Dumble…"

"Professor Dumbledore…"

"Fine. What right does Professor Dumbledore have to select my class schedule for me?" Harry asked, reigning in his temper to be reasonable. It wouldn't do to throw a tantrum and prove he wasn't mature enough for the special electives. "Professor, I pay for my own tuition here and I'd like to know why the Headmaster thought these classes, Divination and CoMC, are better than Healing and Politics."

"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall scolded. "These are perfectly fine classes…"

"No, actually, they are not," Harry interrupted, causing McGonagall's lips to thin out. From the side, he notice the other three Heads of Houses had turned to listen, startled that one of the students had actually interrupted the stern woman. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but these really aren't."

"And what do you know about the quality of classes you haven't even taken yet, Potter," Snape snarled. "Or are you already trying to get special treatment even before classes start?"

Sprout was about to interject, knowing well the famed animosity between the two, and not liking the fact that one of the students was being bullied.

But instead of being cowed as he would have before, Harry simply smiled. "Actually Professor Snape," he began in a perfectly reasonable tone. "In Professor McGonagall's own words, the instructor must have at least passed their NEWTS with an 'E' in their subject. According the Hogwarts : A History, Sybill Trelawny only got an 'A' in her NEWTS divination. And Hagrid never even got his OWLs let alone his NEWTs. I would say that is substandard, wouldn't you?" Then, ignoring the startled looks, he turned flashing eyes back on his Head of House. "Now, will you please tell me why the Headmaster is trying to alter my schedule?" Try as he might, he couldn't really keep the challenging tone out of his voice, but by Merlin! He paid 10,000 galleons for his Hogwarts tuition.

Harry waited patiently, knowing he had cornered his Head of House, simply because everything he said was true and he had dotted every 'I' and crossed every 't' in the application. So it was no surprise when Professor McGonagall stood up.

"This isn't the place for such a discussion," she said. "We will take this up with the Headmaster."

Harry nodded in agreement and followed his professor out. As he passed the dour looking Potions Professor, he gave the man a nod, a gesture that couldn't be interpreted as anything other than respect. "No offense, Professor Snape." And with that, the doors of the Great Hall closed upon two bewildered looking professors and one calculating one.

As Harry got closer to the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's staircase, the more wary he became. He was uneasy facing the Headmaster alone, especially since he knew the old man could read his mind through his eyes (Harry hadn't been able to fit occlumancy training on top of his everything else), but he knew Marvolo was still too weak to leave the diary. Attending an appointment with the Headmaster of a school should not feel like a march to battle, but that was how he felt.Figures nothing in my life is easy.

"Gobstoppers," McGonagall called and the gargoyle obediently jumped out of the way.

Harry followed his professor up the winding stair case, running over his argument in his mind. At the professor's knock, they heard a, "please, come in."

They both stepped in. As usual, Dumbledore sat on the other side of the large desk, not looking surprised at either of their presence. Fawkes was looking well, it being one of his better days.

Just as Harry wondered if McGonagall was going to stay, Dumbledore said, "Thank you for escorting young Harry in," he said, clearly a dismissal. "I can handle it from here."

Before McGonagall could respond, Harry quickly spoke up. "If you don't mind, I'd like her to stay, please." Harry didn't know why he said that, but only knew he didn't want to be left alone with the Headmaster, and even though McGonagall is clearly on Dumbledore's side, she was better than nothing. At McGonagall's hesitation, Harry added, "As my Head of House, I'd think you'd be interested on why I didn't get the classes I signed up for," he said, appealing to her feline curiosity and sense of Gryffindor duty. Marvolo would've been impressed with that little bit of manipulation, he thought inwardly.

"Quite right," McGonagall responded, looking at the Headmaster for an explanation.

It was clear to Harry at least that the Headmaster was unhappy with how this little get together was already turning out. For one, Harry was blatantly declaring his mistrust of the Headmaster by insisting on the presence of the third party. Secondly, with another school authority in the room, the Headmaster didn't have as much room to maneuver.

Either to buy time or just to make his guests frustrated, Dumbledore first offered them some lemon drops, and then tea, and then breakfast, all of which Harry and McGonagall both refused.

"Very well then. So what seems to be the problem, my boy?" he finally asked, grandfatherly eyes twinkling.

The twinkle naturally drew Harry's gaze towards the Headmaster's eyes, but before their eyes could connect, Harry quickly latched onto an equally distracting light, the reflection off the rim of Dumbledore's square rimmed glasses.

Throwing out his first choice of words, which were definitely uncomplimentary, Harry forced himself to be polite and respectful. "I'm sorry, sir, but I think you got Ron's schedule mixed up with mine," Harry said and told the Headmaster what he had told McGonagall earlier.

"I can see how you'd think that," the Headmaster allowed. "But I took the liberty of selecting these elective for you. Your unusual choices…how shall I put it? We are simply not able to accommodate extracurricular electives at this time."

"I don't understand," Harry said, unafraid to admit this, since clearly McGonagall was confused as well.

Dumbledore gave a put-upon sigh. "For two simple reasons, I'm afraid. The teachers you chose are not on the Hogwarts payroll, which means we would have to add their salaries into the budget, something that we cannot afford right now."

Harry held his tongue, wanting to listen to all the reasons first before he refuted them, all the while only focusing on the edge of Dumbledore's square rimmed glasses. "And the second?"

"Is that if I allow you to take extracurricular electives then I must allow every student to do the same," Dumbledore answered. "And again, the budget cannot afford this. The school by-laws that allow for extracurricular electives were written back in Headmaster Everard's time. It is no longer applicable and I would have taken it off the bylaws, but since no student had ever taken advantage of it in my time as headmaster, I had completely forgotten it was even there. So you see, my boy," the Headmaster continued cheerfully. "If I did this for you, I must for the others as well. Imagine if all the Ravenclaws each wanted their own teachers." He chuckled heartily.

Harry suddenly missed Marvolo's helpful little whispers in his ears, but knew he had to learn to fight his own battles. So Harry sat straight up and took a deep breath. "If it is a question of budget, I am willing to pay Madam Pomphrey for Healing lessons. Seeing how often I get hurt here, I think it's a worthwhile class and should be offered as an elective course. As for Mrs. Tonks, I am willing to pay her too, and since I came into this world as knowledgeable as a muggleborn, I think this is also important for my future."

From the side, Harry could see McGonagall nodding thoughtfully to all his well made points. It rose her up a few notches in Harry's eyes.

The Headmaster could see he was losing ground between the two of them. "You've made a couple good points, so I will allow the Healing lessons," he said, sounding magnanimous. "And there is no need for you to pay her. I am sure I can find some funds lying around."

"And my lessons on politics?" Harry asked, trying to keep from whooping at the small win.

This time Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid not," he said, as if regretting it. "And not for anything like budget or permission. It is simply too dangerous for you to leave Hogwarts at this time."

That suddenly reminded Harry of his missing permission slip, but he set that aside for now. One battle at a time, Harry reminded himself, and he hadn't yet won this one yet. "You're right, I didn't know about Black's escape from Azkaban until just recently," Harry admitted. "But Mrs. Tonks doesn't have time to tutor me except on the weekends anyway. We were going to have lessons in her home, so if you'd allow me to floo to her home or gave me a portkey that would take me directly there, then I would just be leaving one warded place for another."

"I cannot place your safety in the hands of unknown wards," Dumbledore countered. "While you are here, your safety is my responsibility."

And you've done such a good job with that, Harry wanted to snarl, but took a calming breath instead. "With the dementors here, I'm not as safe anyway!" Harry nearly cried out in frustration. Okay, so he didn't exactly have all of his temper under control, but who could blame him. Harry felt like he was navigating a verbal chess board.

"The dementors' presence is regrettable…"

"Headmaster Albus," McGonagall interjected, and Harry allowed himself a small smile. Apparently she was just as tired of the verbal sparring as he was. "Mrs. Andromeda Tonks is a highly qualified witch, and if not, her daughter just recently graduated the auror program. Surely between the two of them, Harry would be safe for six hours a day. And a portkey would ensure his safe transport. I don't see what the problem is, especially the special privileges you had just allowedanother certain student." McGonagall looked pointedly at the Headmaster, clearly hinting at something.

Harry's eyebrows shot way up. If he was following this right, Minerva McGonagall, Head of the Gryffindor House, had just blackmailed the Headmaster! It was a move worthy of a Slytherin, for certain. Although curious as to what these special privileges were, especially after the Headmaster had went on about not playing favorites, Harry was more interested in old Dumble's reaction.

It was fascinating to say the least. For a moment, he was just as shocked as Harry had been, but then it morphed into something that looked like he had sucked on a super sour lemon drop. And then finally, it turned to resignation, and Harry knew he had won his first face off with Dumbledore. It was thrilling and satisfying even if the chess field was merely about his class schedule. It still felt like a significant win to him, and hopefully would set the tone for the rest of their future interactions.

Gotta tell Marvolo about this tonight, he thought gleefully, trying not to wiggle in his seat.

"I see I cannot reason with either of you, so…" Dumbledore took Harry's schedule and made the proper adjustments. "I am aware that you will have to leave Hogwarts on the weekends, but I would ask that you keep your special privileges to yourself, as best you can."

"Of course, sir," Harry said, feeling generous enough to be polite. Harry looked over the changes. Healing was to replace the slot for Care of Magical Creatures and the Divination slot was blank. As agreed, his lessons with Mrs. Tonks would take up six hours on each Saturday and Sunday, in which he would floo/portkey back for dinner. This meant he'd have to sacrifice his Hogsmeade weekends anyway, even if he'd had gotten his permission slip signed. Harry mentally shrugged. It wasn't a big loss, not after weighing it against the importance of these political lessons.

"You may use my office to floo to Mrs. Tonk's residents," McGonagall offered, earning a grateful smile from Harry. Harry didn't want to be indebted to the Headmaster any more than he had to. "If that is all, Mr. Potter, there is some business I must speak to the Headmaster while I am here."

Thankful to be dismissed, Harry popped out of his chair and practically skipped out of the room, only pausing to say bye to Fawkes.

The two professors waited until the door was firmly closed before talking.

"You don't approve, Minerva," Dumbledore said.

"I admit I am perplexed," McGonagall replied. "I know you care about Mr. Potter and you are his Keeper in the magical world, but your interference in Mr. Potter's education seems to be a bit extreme. And also, the classes you chose for him don't appear to be in his best interest."

"On the surface, I understand your confusion, Minerva," Dumbledore said, stippling his fingers. "It is because I want him to have more time getting to know Remus Lupin, and if this year is as hectic as the years previous, I didn't want young Harry to be overwhelmed by his classes. I fear with Sirius Black's escape, Mr. Potter will have more on his hands than he can handle."

"But the classes he enrolls in this year will affect the rest of his Hogwart's education," Minerva said, still quite troubled. "Surely, the threat of Black will not continue through his OWLs and NEWTs years."

"I'm afraid it's more than that," Dumbledore countered, his voice turning serious and solemn. "The events of the Sorcerer's Stone from Harry's first year has convinced me that Voldemort is not, in fact, as gone as we had all thought. In fact, even as we speak, he is steadily gaining strength. I know not when he will make himself known, whether it will be within Harry's Hogwart's years or not, but Harry must not be so distracted by mere homework and tests, not when Voldemort will surely come after him."

As the Headmaster spoke, McGonagall grew more and more alarmed. To hear the Leader of the Light predict the return of the war and the return of the most feared Dark Lord in recent memory sent a wave of foreboding over her. "Oh, that poor boy," she whispered, her heart going out to the boy who held a special place in her heart since she dropped him on the doorstep of Privet Drive.

"And now you understand," Dumbledore said. "I will be with him every step of the way, of course but I'm afraid the greater burden will fall on his shoulders."

Minerva nodded. "I apologize for doubting you, Albus."

Dumbledore nodded in acceptance. "My position as this school's headmaster notwithstanding, I do want Harry to enjoy his years at Hogwarts. I may even suggest Remus to teach Harry the Patronus charm."

"That will make the boy happy, and to hear some of the stories of his father's adventures." McGonnagall smiled wistfully as she remembered some of those adventures, before she stood up. "Now, I must get back to my lions. Thank you for taking the time to clarify a few things. At the next opportunity, I will see to it Mr. Potter understands that you only have his best interest at heart."

"That will be most appreciated," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling once more. As he watched his Deputy Headmistress vacate his office, his gaze turned onto what looked like a half played chess board with all the players in various positions.

It was unfortunate that Harry was asserting his independence so early, and worse to gain Minerva's sympathies. It wasn't detrimental to his plans yet, but if Harry continued on this track, Dumbledore would have to rethink his plans. Of course it would be simpler just to snuff out Harry's newfound independence before it really took root, but that route weighed heavily on his conscious. This late in Albus' life, he didn't want to add another stain onto his soul. It was bad enough when he had knowingly left the defenseless child in the care of abusive relatives. Oh yes, he had known exactly what kind of people the Dursleys were, but had needed them to wear down the boy's stubbornness and cause him to see Albus as his pseudo-grandfather, his rescuer.

He needed to make Harry love the magical world so much that he was willing to die for it.

As Dumbledore contemplated, he moved one of the white chess pieces back a move.

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

September 1, 1993

By the time Harry got back down to the Great Hall, breakfast was over and the tables were cleared. Ron was likely hanging out in the tower with Seamus and Dean, Neville was likely at the greenhouses, and Hermione was certainly in the library. Harry decided to send a letter to Andromeda to expect him next weekend after breakfast via floo and the salary she expected, since Hogwarts wasn't going to pay her after all.

That done, Harry went for the lake to enjoy the warm weather before it got cold again. Propped against a tree for shade, Harry withdrew the 3rd year potions book that he was determined to finish before class tomorrow. But it was Marvolo's diary that occupied his time as he relayed the confrontation between himself and the headmaster. Writing in the diary also served a dual purpose of feeding Marvolo his magic as Ginny had first done last year. Knowing this, and knowing Marvolo had something planned for tonight, Harry easily poured in the rich emotions that verbally dueling with Dumbledore had evoked.

That night, long after everyone had fallen asleep, Harry cracked open the diary, relieved to see silver curls rising from out of its pages. Harry didn't say anything, more intent on inspecting the form of his friend. It appeared Marvolo had reverted back to when he was first created, back in the Chamber of Secrets. He gave Marvolo of sad smile. "I'm sorry, Marvolo."

"Nothing a little time with you won't fix," Marvolo assured him. "And it was certainly worth the sacrifice."

"It must be terribly frustrating though," Harry argued. "Not having a body and all. Trapped in a book."

Marvolo shot Harry a concerned look. "It is not the same for me, little one," he said. "You know I am horcrux, merely a soul—or two soul-fragments, made to endure the endless wait inside an inanimate object until I am needed."

Harry shook his head, denying it. "No you're not! You're real enough to me, and I know you'll eventually merge back with him, but until then, I don't want you to disappear or fade away."

"Have you already forgotten? I am immortal, little one," Marvolo smirked. "Now, these morbid thoughts are better put to use in our spell tonight."

Hearing this, Harry gathered up the diary, his all-purpose bookbag, and threw on his invisibility cloak. "We're not going to the Forbidden Forest, are we?" Harry whispered as he followed the ghostly light before him. "Because that's where the dementors are."

"Put on a silencing spell," Marvolo advised before answering. "No, what we need is still on Hogwart's ground, in the greenhouses in fact. Surely the Headmaster hasn't allowed those creatures so close to the school?"

"Dumbledore said they're to stay at the border of the wards," Harry replied. "But you never know."

Marvolo shook his head, amazed that the Ministry has only gotten stupider over time. "Severus must be brewing a storm of dream-less sleep. The nightmares alone…"

"Because of the dementors?" Harry asked.

"Indeed. What do you know of these creatures?"

"Not much," Harry admitted. "No one knows where they came from, but now they guard the wizarding prison, Azkaban. They have the ability to suck out happy thoughts…"

"Not just suck up," Marvolo corrected. "They actually feed on happy memories, leaving behind only depression and misery. What else can they do?"

By now they made it out of the castle via some mysterious tunnel that Harry hadn't known existed. The half moonlight was enough to bath the whole scape in a pale light, and so Harry had little trouble picking his way to the greenhouses once his eyes adjusted. "They can also steal your soul," Harry answered with a shiver. "It's called the dementors kiss. Once that happens, the body is left behind, soulless, and eventually dies."

"That's good enough for now," Marvolo said. "We will discuss the defenses against a dementor in a moment. Now what have you learned about the difference between light and dark magic?"

Harry paused, having to mentally switch gears. "Light magic is based on calculations that get translated into Latin root incantations and wand movements. The power is drawn from the wizard's core and conducted through a magical focus, like a wand."

"That's correct. And Dark magic?"

"Dark magic is based on sacrifices," Harry answered slowly, making sure he got this right. The explanations in his books were not as clear cut as the explanation for Light magic. "The caster must give something of himself into the spell, whether its emotions, blood, tears, hair, or other body parts. That's how they are powered and how they're anchored. But the source of dark magic isn't from the wizard's core, but drawn from nature. Because of this, it is much stronger than Light magic, but also more dangerous."

"That is correct," Marvolo complimented and Harry smiled. "The problem Light wizards have is that they don't have enough power to cast their spells, but it is opposite for us. We get too much power and cannot control it, or worse it controls us. That is where the myth that dark magic is addictive comes from or that it twists you up."

Harry and Marvolo paused in front of Greenhouse #4. Because some plants were nocturnal and Snape had to have easy access to the herbs for his potions, night or day, the greenhouses remained unlocked. So the two easily slipped inside. "What are we looking for?" Harry whispered, not wanting to wake any of the plants up. Some of them were sensitive to noise.

"It is called knotgrass," Marvolo answered. "They are like regular grass, but longer, more slender, like twine, and more flexible."

Although Harry kept a look out for a plant that matched the description, it was obvious Marvolo already knew exactly where the plant was from his own time in Hogwarts and headed straight for it. Once Harry glimpsed the plant, he thought it looked more like thick hair, or skinny flattened noodles all tangled up together.

Under Marvolo's watchful eyes, Harry selected several strands, and cleanly sliced them off with a potion's blade. He stored all but one into the potion's portion of his backpack. "Now what?"

"What I am going to show is called knot magic," Marvolo said. "It is something a lot of dark children grow up learning because it is easy to do and doesn't require a wand. Basically you are storing a spell or curse inside a knot, and to release it you simply untie the knot."

"So…I'm going to tie a patronus charm into the knot?" Harry asked, still not understanding.

"I don't think that has ever been done before," Marvolo said, amused and intrigued by the idea. "But since you don't know how to perform the charm, it is a moot point. No, you are going to tie in as many horrible feelings as you can into the knots. As a dementor approaches and tries to read your memories, the knots will untangle, releasing your misery. With no happy thoughts to feed on, it will grow disinterested and move on to the next victim. At the very least, it will buy you time to make an escape or to gather your wits to cast the patronus charm. Too often a wizard can cast a patronus, but in the face of a dementor, they allow themselves to be trapped in their memories and completely forget how to cast the charm."

"So my emotions will power the magic," Harry said, nodding as he began to understand. "But what is the sacrifice?"

"Your tears."

Harry blinked. "Tears?" He didn't think he knew how to cry anymore, and he certainly didn't remember the last time he had shed any. It wasn't exactly a luxury the Little Freak was allowed to indulge in.

Apparently understanding Harry's dilemma, Marvolo already had the answer. "You will cast lacrima on yourself," he said. "It will induce tears. As you tie your horrible memories in the knots, it will serve as sacrifice enough along with the tears."

Harry was quiet for a moment, wondering if this was even worth it. To dredge up all those horrible memories again…but then he realized it was because of the strength of his suffering that made him so vulnerable to dementors in the first place.

"Is Dark magic always like this?" Harry asked quietly. "All pain and suffering?"

"No, it is alluring, seductive, and thrilling." Marvolo smiled at Harry reassuringly. "It is just unfortunate that this is your first exposure to dark magic. I wouldn't have used this as a first lesson except the dementors make it prudent that you learn this first. Wait until you learn the patronus charm, which is based on happiness. Light wizards would have you believe it is light magic, but they conveniently forget it is powered by emotions just the same."

Harry nodded. He was beginning to see the hypocrisy and self righteousness that the Light side liked to spout.

They didn't need perform the spell in the greenhouse. So instead of risking being caught, both Harry and Marvolo trekked back to Harry's bed where he could slip into a meditative state and bring up all the horrible memories he had pushed into the back of his mind. As Harry quickly found out though, thanks to the dementor on the Hogwart's Express, all of Harry's memories were readily accessible.

So over the next couple hours, his nimble fingers worked in the knots along the length of the 14 inch strand of knotgrass, and soaked it in the tears that flowed freely from his eyes. With knots over knots over knots, Harry managed to tie in 32 memories until it finally resembled a dark ball of rope, about the size of a snitch.

When he was done, he was surprised to find that he didn't want to touch it, let alone wear it as an amulet. In fact, he was quite repulsed by it. "There's something wrong with it," Harry said, unable to pin down the cause of his distress. There was just something wrong with it.

"A sign that you successfully tied your misery into it," Marvolo said, sounding proud. "You feel uneasy around it because you sense your own pain in it."

"Kind of like how you said about walls remembered suffering and my cupboard?"

"Indeed. It would take dozens of dementors to unravel your Knot of Misery. Well done."

Harry wiped away his tears and gave a watery smile. Conjuring a thin rope, he managed to work a regular knot in the ball of knotgrass before tying the rope around his neck. "Sleep with me again?" Harry asked.

Marvolo hesitated, knowing Harry had used a lot of foreign magic that he wasn't used to using and would need to be fresh for a full day of classes tomorrow.

"You're better than dreamless sleep, you know," Harry said. "And after those memories…"

Hearing this, Marvolo relented. There was no point in avoiding magical exhaustion if Harry was just going to be physically exhausted from nightmares, and since he had taken dreamless sleep last night… "Very well, but only until you fall asleep," Marvolo said, slipping into their usual position with the ease of having done it almost every night before. "Sweet dreams, my little one."

"Mmm…g'nigh…" Harry mumbled, already drifting off.

A/N: My biggest fear in this chapter is Dumbledore. I hope I didn't bash him too much. A lot of people have warned me about that. My Dumbledore doesn't manipulate Harry for selfish reasons, but justifies his manipulation by believing he's doing it for the benefit of the Wizarding World. He is a "ends justify the means" kind of guy. I also figure he would stunt Harry's education for the same reasons why he never trained Harry properly and why he didn't try harder to get a competent DADA teacher.

I am stunned, flabbergasted with the responses I've been getting for this story, especially since its my first. I wish I can personally thank all my reviewers and faithful readers. If only there was a way to PM on adult-fanfiction.org. Guess I am still learning the ropes.

Up next is Harry's classes and the obligatory face off with Snape. We also get to learn a little more about Snape's character.
- 6
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

In Servitude of the Dark: The Hand That Guides Me