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. |
A/N: Something someone pointed out, that I failed to make clear…
So, why doesn't Marvolo merge with the other Horcruxes, especially since one is right in the ROR?
Very good question. In my original outline, Marvolo did merge with all the other horcruxes, but then I thought Voldemort, being the paranoid Dark Lord he is, made so many horcruxes so he'd have back ups to his back ups. To consolidate or merge all these horcruxes into one place and one being, would be too risky, especially right under Dumbledore's nose. It would be like having only one horcrux, and even Marvolo doesn't want to take this risk.
So why not merge with only one or two horcruxes, just enough to make himself stronger?
The scar-crux's love for Harry is the only thing keeping Harry safe. Remember, Riddle-crux doesn't really care about Harry other than a mere curiosity, so if Marvolo merges with another horcrux, it will diminish the scar-crux's influence to only 1/3, which will make him too weak to influence the main soul piece when they finally merged. And then Harry would be in real danger, something Marvolo will do almost anything to prevent.
I hope that makes sense and doesn't sound too farfetched…
(¯`·._.·(¯`·._.·(¯`·._.· In Servitude to the Dark: My Obeisance ·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯)·._.·´¯)
Chapter 8 : I Will Compete If YOU Want Me To – October 30, 1994
Harry didn't sleep much after the Ritual of Morgana. It was an immense relief to be able to put much of the Prophesy behind him. It was the Prophesy that kick started this whole thing, sending Voldemort to kill him and his parents, resulting in Harry living with the Dursleys and putting him under the control of Dumbledore. It was a burden Harry didn't realize he was carrying until it was gone, and he felt so relieved. Sure, Marvolo had said there were other possibilities, but Harry chose to be optimistic.
Despite the thoughts that followed Harry into sleep, he managed to rise early with his dorm-mates the next day, wondering if there was any other 14 year old whose life was as hectic as his. Thank Merlin for Severus' potions. A sip of pepper-up was all Harry needed to get back into the spirit of the Tournament.
In the Great Hall, dozens of people were already milling around, examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the center of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.
Just as Harry predicted, Fred and George had indeed attempted something foolish. It was with great amusement that Professor McGonnagall had dragged the Twins out by their ears, with promises that they haven't given up yet!
It seemed while the Twins made it their mission to enter the Tournament, Hermione had found a mission of her own …S.P.E.W!
"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, began. "Are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about nonwand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."
"Our?" Harry repeated. "Who is 'our'?"
Harry and Ron glared at each other over the table.
But Hermione ignored the two, sure that her mission would bring the three of them together again. "We, and yes I do mean both of you, start by recruiting members," said Hermione happily. "I thought two Sickles to join - that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron - I've got you a collecting tin upstairs - and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting."
There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at the pair of them, and Harry sat, torn between irritation and disbelief. "Listen, 'Mione. Have you ever been down to the kitchens?"
"Kitchens?" Ron perked up. "When have you've ever been there?"
"Severus showed me," Harry snapped before turning to Hermione for an answer. "Well?"
"No, of course not," she said curtly. "I hardly think students are allowed to."
"Well, I've been there, and I've met the elves working there," Harry said. "They're really happy. They think they've got the best job in the world…"
"That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!" she interrupted hotly. "They don't know any better."
Harry stared at Hermione incredulously. He thought it was a little arrogant of her to imply that she knew better. "So are you saying that when the White Man went to conquer the world, to 'civilize' the savages, it was okay because the savages were brainwashed and uneducated?"
For a moment Hermione was blissfully silent, but it seemed this was only the calm before the storm. Hermione turned red and exploded. "That's not the same at all!" she said shrilly. "This is enslavement! S.P.E.W. is supposed to liberate them from their oppressors…"
Harry knew he tried his best, but there was no arguing with the girl when she was like this. For the first time this year, Harry and Ron agreed on something, because the two just gave in and paid the two sickles for the badges just to get her stop lecturing at them.
"See, we're all S.P.E.W. members now," she said happily, and Harry got the distinct impression that he'd just been manipulated to work with Ron.
By half past five, it was growing dark, and it was time for the announcement of the school champions. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table. "Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore.
"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, two seats away from Harry.
The flames inside the goblet suddenly turned red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it, and the whole room gasped. Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to original blueish hue.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."
A storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table, marched up toward Dumbledore, turned a sharp right, and walked along the staff table, finally disappearing through the door into the next chamber. The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.
"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"
When Delacour, too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so tense with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next…And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore snatched third piece of parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion is," he called, but hesitated and held the slip of paper out and stared at the name written upon it, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. There was a long pause, during which everyone in the room leaned forward as one, staring at Dumbledore. Finally, Dumbledore blinked, seemingly just realized where he was and cleared his throat. "Harry Potter."
No, that couldn't be right. Harry wanted to laugh, he wanted to scream, he wanted to cry. Of course he'd be picked to compete. He and Marvolo even discussed it one night, but that had been stupid speculations, flimsy theories thrown out there for why Dumbledore wanted to revive the dangerous tournament. Foolishly, neither of them thought it was actually going to happen. Harry wanted to bang his head on the table, and there was no applause.
Harry turned to his Gryffindors. "I didn't put my name in," Harry said blankly, and then to the Twins. "You know I didn't."
A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry remained frozen, still in his seat. There were some shuffling around at the Teacher's Table, some looking excited, some confused, and some frowning darkly.
"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called again, this time with a hint of impatience. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"
Harry shot the old man a glare, before he felt Neville nudging him. "Go on," he whispered.
With a dark look, Harry marched mutinously up to the Headmaster. "I didn't enter into this tournament!" Harry hissed furiously.
"We will discuss this in private," Dumbledore whispered back. "For now, through the door, Harry."
Harry suppose The Great Hall wasn't the place to pick a fight with the Headmaster, so he grudgingly nodded and made his way across the the teacher's table. Severus, as usual, was seated right at the end. For a moment, those sharp onyx eyes only stared down at him, and Harry gave him a look that screamed of frustration. Severus returned the look with a cocked head towards the door.
He went through the door, out of the Great Hall, and found himself in a smaller room. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him, and Krum and Delacour turned as he entered.
"Iz ser somsing wrong?" Fleur asked, noticing Harry's slow entrance. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"
Harry scowled. Apparently she thought he was some kind of messenger boy. "No, my name came out of the goblet too."
This got inquisitive looks from Fleur and Krum. "But you are too…what is ze word…small?…no young?"
"I know!" Harry exploded, as if releasing his pent up confusion and frustration. "I didn't put my name in the goblet. I didn't even want to…" Harry was interrupted when the door suddenly opened behind him and there was a cacophony of noises from the Great Hall as the majority of the adults poured into the waiting room.
"Extraordinary!" Bagman bellowed. "Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, competing in the first Triwizard Tournament in a hundred years!"
Harry eyes darted from one face to another, noting that most of the adults were quite excited by this. Even the Headmasters of the other schools looked positively intrigued. "Hold on!" Harry shouted. "I didn't enter my name. I don't want to compete."
"What are you talking about, Pup?" Sirius asked, looking just as delighted as the rest of them. "You beat Dumbledore's age line! Not even the Twins managed that."
Harry rolled his eyes. Of course his godfather, ex-pranster extraordinaire, would be delighted about that. Turning away from him, Harry tried to appeal towards the judges. "Listen, this is some sort of mistake. I'm too young to enter."
"That's true…" Bagman said hesitantly. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as your name did come out of the goblet…I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage…It's down in the rules. You're obliged…"
"Not if I just refuse to compete," Harry said stubbornly, crossing his arms.
"Well, if my godson refuses, then can't we just let the Goblet choose another name?" Sirius asked, and Harry shot his godfather a grateful look.
"But it doesn't work like that," Bagman protested. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out. It won't reignite until the start of the next tournament."
"Then, I'm afraid you've got no choice, my boy," Dumbledore jumped in. "If you didn't enter…"
"I didn't!"
Dumbledore shot Harry a reproachful look for interrupting, to which Harry ignored. "If you didn't enter yourself, then did you ask another student to enter your name?"
Harry glared. "No I did not. And if that were possible, your age line doesn't seem very effective for deterring younger students from entering, does it?"
This was met with an uncomfortable silence, until Karkaroff spoke up. "Well, why don't we just ask our impartial judges," he suggested, and they all turned to Mr. Crouch, who had been silent up until this point.
"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament. Regardless of how it went in." Most everyone nodded as if he had imparted some divine wisdom upon them.
It was no wonder why Percy practically worshiped the ground Crouch walked on, Harry thought meanly; Hermione too for that matter.
"This is utter madness," Severus hissed like the House he led, exasperated. "Can no one here see that it was a skilled witch or wizard hoodwinked the Goblet? To do such an underhanded act only indicates this persons unknown has malicious designs on Mr. Potter well being."
Both impartial judges, Crouch and Bagman, looked horrified by the very idea, as if the idea never even occurred to them. "Do you really think so?" Bagman asked.
Dumbledore decided to jump in and take control of the situation before his silver tongued Professor could interfere more than he already had. "How this situation arose, we do not know," he said. "It seems to me, however, that with the rules and the magical contract, we have no choice but to accept it. Precautions will be taken and Healers will be on hand to in case of any accidents."
Harry squinted at his Headmaster. Was it just him, or did Dumbledore seem too eager for Harry to compete.
Everyone, save for Harry, Severus, and Sirius, were delighted by this, especially Bagman. They all wanted to see Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, compete in this extremely dangerous tournament. Harry wouldn't put it past the Ministry to sneak his name in there, just in the hopes of recovering their reputation from the World Cup Riot.
As for the foreign Headmaster/mistress, if Krum or Delacour managed to beat him, it would elevate Durmstrang or Beaubaton's status well over Hogwarts.
Merlin, Harry just hated politics.
After that, the champions were given their instructions. According to Mr. Crouch, the first task was to test their daring in the face of the unknown so they weren't given any clues at all, which was to take place the 1st of December. They also were not allowed to ask for any help from their teachers or peers, but they could make use of the restricted section of the library. Finally, and in Harry's opinion, the only good thing about this whole mess was that he would be exempted from the end of the year exams.
When Mr. Crouch was done, Severus immediately swept Harry out of the room, with Sirius quickly catching up to them. "I'm going to talk to Albus," he said. "See how magically binding this contract is. Maybe as Harry's godfather, I have some say over how this turns out."
"For once you're actually using that grey matter between your ears," Severus sneered, still too irritated by the idiots back in that room.
Out of habit, Sirius glared back, but recognized the backhanded compliment for what it was. He turned to Harry with a reassuring smile. "Chin up, Pup," he said. "Even if you have to compete, don't think you have to do it alone. Why, it's practically tradition for the champions to cheat in this tournament."
Harry's eyes twinkled. "That sounds positively Slytherin," he said and laughed when Sirius looked at him in mock horror.
While Sirius went in search of the Headmaster, Severus escorted Harry back to his dorm tower. "You will be extra vigilant from now until the end of this blasted tournament," Severus said, stopping in front of the Fat Lady. "Do not walk the halls alone, do not drink or eat anything without casting a detection charm first, and loathe as I am to admit this, Black was right. Do not let that infuriating Gryffindor nobility get in the way of common sense. See this through like a Slytherin, and maybe everything will come out alright."
Harry just blinked at his teacher, never having heard so many words spill from the man's mouth before. It sounded a little extreme to Harry, but then again, whoever entered his name into this tournament was going to extremes to see him killed, so Harry nodded in understanding.
When Severus left, Harry turned back to the portrait and took a deep breath. It was time to face his dorm-mates. Harry really didn't know what to expect. He hoped after the shock was over, they would support him like any other school champion. He muttered the password, the portrait swung open, and Harry stepped into the celebratory chaos inside.
Someone had fished out the Gryffindor banner and butter-beer was passed all around. When they saw Harry come in, several Gryffindor's shouted his name and physically grabbed him and pulled him into the center of the crowd. Someone pushed a bottle into his hand, Lee Jordan placed one of the chairs behind him. Harry only sat down because he felt so overwhelmed.
"Tell us, oh Great One…"
"Cleverest of all Pranksters…"
"How did you get pass the Age Line…"
The Twins were making a big show of bowing down to him, and the noise in the room quickly died down, all of them wanting to hear how Harry Potter got around one of the Headmaster's wards.
Harry gulped. "Umm…I didn't," he said, which was of course not what they wanted to hear.
"Well, congratulations, you've done it again," Ron snarled, pushing through the throng of students. Hearing him, they immediately parted to let him through.
Harry glared back. "You jealous prat! I told you, I didn't enter my name into the Goblet. I've been against this whole tournament thing from the beginning."
"Or was that just a cover," Ron asked snidely. "Come on now, you can tell us. How did you get pass the Age Line, when not even my brothers did?"
"So this is how it'll be?" Harry returned, his earlier fears were confirmed. It was second year all over again. He turned to Hermione. "And what do you think?"
Hermione shot a glance at Ron and nervously twirled her hair. "I can't believe someone else would put your name in the goblet. I mean, logically, why would they? What's in it for them, if you compete? Unless you paid someone…but then it would have to be more than a 1000 galleons…"
"Hermione!" Harry snapped, shocked that she would actually suggest such a thing. "Did it ever occur to you two that someone entered my name so they could actually kill me?"
He only got twin looks of disbelief. "Who are you suggesting?" Hermione asked. "You fried Professor Quirrel back in first year. Whatever happened in 2nd year is over. Even your godfather, who we all thought was after you, turned out to be innocent. It's not like you got any real enemies left, right?" She looked at him suspiciously.
Harry was not ready to go into the whole subject of the Dark Lord or possible Death Eaters. No doubt, they would just laugh at him anyway. "Look, this has been a crazy day. I'm heading up to bed…"
"Wait," Hermione said urgently. "Now that you're the champion, you can recruit more people into S.P.E.W."
Hearing this, Harry's blood ran cold, and he just looked at the handful of badges that his supposed friend held out to him. "Let me get this straight," he said, his tone filled with disbelief. "You just learned one of your friends was entered into a deadly tournament, against his will…" Harry ignored Ron's rude snort, "…and all you can think about is your precious S.P.E.W.?"
Hermione sniffed. "Well, we all know you're going to beat this thing. You always do. Besides, it's not like the Headmaster will let you get hurt!"
"Did you forget how Old Dumbles tried to steal my inheritance, or how he sent me back to the Dursleys year after year, and hired Lupin, who attacked me in the Forbidden Forest?"
At this, the entire room gasped. Harry was so incensed that he didn't even care if the whole Gryffindor House knew. Hell, it might even work in his favor.
For a moment, Hermione was blessedly silent…until she opened her mouth again, and Harry wanted to rip his hair out. "Okay, fine. I'll help you study, prepare and research, and you can help me with the house-elves. They have no one to…"
Harry shook his head in disgust. "Apparently you care more about those elves, than you do your friend." Then he turned to Ron, who was still glowering. "And there's nothing I can say to you that will make this alright." Without taking a single badge, Harry trudge up to his room.
He was relieved that the dorm was empty, everyone being downstairs celebrating. "It's second year all over again!" He hopped into bed, pulled the curtains close, sealed them, and extracted the diary. He badly needed to talk to the one person who had supported him from the very beginning.
"Hello, Marvolo," Harry said softly after the apparition materialized out of the book.
"What is wrong, little one," Marvolo asked, instantly aware of the tumultuous emotions radiating from the boy. "You are troubled."
Harry snorted. "You can say that again. I got chosen as the Hogwarts' Champion."
Marvolo tensed, his eyes glowing red before dimming back to normal again. "Indeed. Do you know who entered your name?"
Harry was glad that Marvolo instantly knew Harry had not entered, not like his friends, or even his godfather. "No idea. Everybody thinks I somehow managed to trick the Headmaster's Age Line. Ron and Hermione, especially."
"Imbeciles," Marvolo snorted. "I may have my differences with Dumbledore, but even I admit that a ward erected by Albus Dumbledore would not be so easily tricked or broken."
"Do you think Voldemort has anything to do with this?" Harry asked.
Marvolo leaned back thoughtfully. "I have only been getting emotional impressions from him, and rare flashes of images that are incomprehensible at best. But knowing myself as I do, I would be keeping a close eye on everything going on in Hogwarts, especially while the Triwizard Tournament is being held. But, to answer your question, he is limited to his golem form, so I do not think he is strong enough to trick the Goblet or the Age Line. Perhaps one of the Death Eaters…"
"Lucius Malfoy?" Harry asked, wrinkling his nose. It was something that he hadn't considered. "But I would sooner think Lucius would want his own son entered instead of me."
Marvolo nodded. "That would be consistent with his goals of replacing me," Marvolo agreed, before frowning deeply. "It could possibly be Dumbledore, himself, who entered your name."
Like Marvolo, Harry wasn't too surprised by that. "Like a test or something," Harry added and swiveled around so he was facing his friend. "I don't like the idea of performing like a monkey for the Headmaster's entertainment, but I will if you me to compete, Marvolo."
Marvolo was silent for a moment, outwardly calm, but Harry knew that brilliant mind of his was spinning out all sorts of plans and scenerios, advantages and disadvantages. "This is a uniquely public opportunity to impress the Dark community," he began as if thinking out loud. "If you were to use borderline dark spells to complete your Tasks, the Dark community will not be so reluctant to support you in the future."
Harry nodded. He didn't really care either way. It made him furious on principle that he was selected when he didn't enter, but he was confident with all his training that he could survive this thing-maybe even win it. "If it will help you with your future plans, then I'll do it," Harry said.
Marvolo smiled down at the ever helpful boy, so eager to please and feel useful. It would be so easy for anyone to take advantage of his Little Serpent. "Well, regardless of the reasons why you were entered, The Triwizard Tournament is a test of magical strength and ingenuity, two of which you have in abundance."
Harry smiled at his friend. "Thanks, Marvolo." He didn't need fair weathered friends like Hermione and Ron, not when he had people like his godfather, Severus, and Marvolo who had so much faith in him.
A/N: Sorry, we had to get through the whole Goblet thing…I would have liked to just say, "Harry was chosen to compete," and be done with it, but scattered here and there was some non-canon stuff. Don't worry, after this we veer off canon and down the rabbit hole.
BTW, this is not the big blow up yet! There's more to come because Ron has too much suppressed anger and pent up jealousy to let it go that easily. With a mind of a prodigal chess master, you can be sure Ron will put that strategetic mind to good use, before he thinks about the consequences of his actions.
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