Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Harry Potter and the wizarding world	By : zoy_grey Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 10767 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own nor make profit off of JK Rowling's world of Harry Potter, the characters or the timeline. I do own some of the characters that are of my imagination as well as the plot that I came up with.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
CHAPTER 8
Wormtail walked into the empty room they used as a temporary prison. For quite some time it was a prison only by name, but since last evening it was occupied by their newest guest – a person called Shadow.
Peter heard about him from newspapers, but didn’t know his identity; neither did the Dark Lord. Shadow was wearing a mask; and since yesterday no one removed it from his face. That made the wizard’s curiosity grow even more; he wanted to take it off and see for himself who was hiding under that mask; was it someone he knew; was it a friend or a foe.
Wormtail walked forward to the lying form of the other wizard and leaned forward. He studied the mask, but couldn’t remember seeing such pattern on any Death Eater before; besides, he seemed a bit short for any follower of the Dark Lord.
“I wonder who you are,” said excited Pettigrew and reached out to take the mask.
Suddenly, a sharp pain ran through his abdomen and he stumbled back and onto the floor. He tried to stop himself from puking and looked up to see Shadow standing in front of him. “Why you…!”
“Stupify,” came a loud voice from the door and both, Wormtail and Shadow, fell to the ground.
“Leave me here and take Wormtail away,” said another voice.
Barty conjured an armchair and placed his master in it. He levitated Wormtail out of the room and asked “Do you need anything, my Lord?”
“No. Get out. I want to talk with him alone,” answered Voldemort and sent a glare Barty’s way.
Moments later, Voldemort was left alone with the unmoving form in front of him. He observed the other wizard and confirmed he was right; it wasn’t a Death Eater, he was sure of that.
At the beginning he wanted to kill the bloody idiot for attacking children and leaving witnesses, but after everything Barty told him, Voldemort became interested in the person before him.
“You won’t be able to talk for a bit and since I find it frustrating I’ll take that chance to get to know you a bit more.”
Voldemort slipped into his mind with ease and looked there for anything useful; something he could use against Shadow. After a long moment of watching rather boring memories of a normal family life, he came across a few interesting ones.
“Quite interesting and unexpected I must say,” stated Voldemort, when he came out of Shadow’s mind.
The other wizard was already able to move freely, but didn’t seem to be planning on attacking the Dark Lord.
“I suppose you can’t attack me if you don’t want the Ministry to catch you,” said Voldemort and with one, unexpected move of his hand the mask from Shadow’s face was ripped off “I find it rather annoying not to see your face when I talk to you.”
The mask fell to the ground and the wizard tried to hide his face under the hood.
“I know what you’ve been doing,” Voldemort ignored Shadow’s attempts to hide his identity. “My servant reported to me what you have done to that child in St. Ives.”
“Servant?” asked Shadow.
“So you do speak, after all,” remarked Voldemort “A follower, if you prefer that world.”
The Dark Lord studied the person before him for good five minutes before he continued his speech.
“You might be a good addition to my group of followers…”
“Followers or servants?” asked Shadow with a sneer.
“You insolent…” Voldemort send a wave of pure dark energy his way, which caused the hood of Shadow’s cloak to fall and reveal his face. A mad cackle broke the silence, “I’d never expect you to be a son of one of my Death Eaters.”
Voldemort saw the shocked face of the wizard before him and added, “We haven’t met before, but it’s pretty obvious what family you belong to.”
This must have been the Dark Lord’s luckiest day; all his plans were going in the right direction – Barty’s missions were going well and now he had found another person who might help him a lot; he simply needed to convince Shadow to join his cause and from what he’d read in the wizard’s mind, the teen didn’t have a very good opinion about him.
“I have an offer for you,” he started “You’ll help me with Harry Potter and I’m going to tell you the answers to the questions bothering you. I have all the answers you seek.”
Shadow observed the dark wizard in the armchair before him. Even though the man looked the way he did, Shadow could tell he was powerful. For the last few hours he had spent in this prison he heard enough to understand he was being kept by the Dark Lord Voldemort himself; and angering him wouldn’t be the wisest thing to do. He knew he couldn’t defend himself – this was exactly the kind of situation he feared the most, when he started being ‘Shadow’. On the other hand, Voldemort already seemed to know how vulnerable Shadow was, yet he hasn’t even tried to attack him.
“What is it that you want from me?” he asked, trying to judge the situation.
“I want you to keep an eye on Harry Potter. I need you to gain his trust,” hissed Voldemort and stared at him.
“What if…,” Shadow hesitated “What if I refuse to help in your plot against Potter?”
The older wizard said viciously “If you refuse, your family dies. Refuse and you will die as well. That’s not a very smart choice. Especially, when I don’t intend to hurt Potter…and that seems to be the problem bothering you about my offer.”
Shadow already thought Voldemort knew legilimency so he wasn’t even surprised the man knew his thoughts. The question now was if he should accept the offer or not; he didn’t have anything against Harry Potter, so he didn’t feel well about doing something against him; on the other hand, though, he cherished his own life and didn’t want to die; besides, Voldemort said he didn’t plan to hurt Potter, but Shadow wasn’t sure if he could trust the words of that man.
“Well?” asked impatiently the Dark Lord.
“Alright,” answered calmly Shadow. “I’ll do it.”
“Perfect,” commented Voldemort. He tried to slip into the other wizard’s mind once more and even though he felt slight resistance this time, he was still able to read his thoughts. The younger wizard agreed to help him, but he had doubts and intensively searched for a way to get out of this situation. Voldemort only smiled inwardly at such cunning and slyness.
“Put your mask on,” he ordered and Shadow complied. “I don’t want anyone apart from me to know your identity, at least for the time being. Now, there is a pendant in the box on the table,” he pointed to the piece of furniture; the young wizard walked to it and took out the said pendant. “Take it and don’t lose it. That’s a portkey. It will allow you to travel here safely through the mansion’s wards.”
“Understood,” answered shortly Shadow.
“It will also let you know when I want to see you. The stone of the pendant will turn pitch-black and will slightly burn.” Voldemort instructed him, “Remember, I need you to gain Potter’s trust; you can’t scare him. And report to me everything, especially about his magic. I assume you’re already an expert in recognising people’s magical affinity.”

After the incident at the Quidditch World Cup the atmosphere at the Burrow changed. The Weasley kids behaved as always, but Mr and Mrs Weasley only pretended everything was alright. One could practically feel the tension in the air; although everyone chose to do what they always did and hope it was just an awful joke.
Harry couldn’t say he didn’t care about what happened a few days ago; he was shocked and to some extant scared when he saw the Death Eaters for the first time. Now, when he thought about it, no one has ever told him about the war; what was it like; what did witches and wizards fight for.
He was also worried about those constant, nagging dreams. He didn’t know what to think about it all; he wanted to talk about it with someone, but there was no person he could discuss it with. Ron and Hermione told him to talk about it with Dumbledore, but somehow Harry doubted the Headmaster would openly talk with him about his worries; if Dumbledore wanted to do that, he’d have already done that.
“Harry, dear,” said worried Mrs Weasley, catching his attention.
Harry looked at everyone at the table and saw that all of them were staring at him – Hermione, Ginny, Ron, the twins, even Bill and Charlie.
“You look a bit pale,” said Molly and looked at Harry’s face and the untouched bowl of soup in front of him. “And tired,” she added “Oh, yes, tired.”
“I’m gonna be fine, Mrs Weasley, really,” he stood up and headed to the stairs “I’ll just take some rest. Sorry I’ve made you worry.”
He walked upstairs, to Ron’s room and decided the only person he could talk to was Sirius; he simply needed to write to him.
“He doesn’t look well since that attack during Quidditch World Cup,” commented Ron, when his friend shut the door to his room.
“No wonder,” said Bill “he found himself so close to the wizard who cast the Dark mark. Harry was really lucky.”
“No more talking. Your dinner is getting cold,” said quickly Mrs Weasley, who felt very uncomfortable with the subject they’ve brought up.
She knew none of her children took lightly what happened, but at the same time none of them was fully aware of the danger it meant. Mrs Weasley and her husband were the only ones in their family who remembered the last war; their sons were too young for that. Molly feared history might repeat itself and this time her children would most likely take part in fighting; she didn’t want that; she didn’t want to lose anyone else from her family.
Sometimes Molly thought about the war and how to stop the Death Eaters and Voldemort, but no matter how many times she did that, she always came to the same conclusion – only Harry Potter was able to stop that madness so probably this time her son’s friend would do the same. However, such thoughts made her feel awful – how could she relay all her hope and put all the responsibility on one teenage boy; that was cruel, but on the other hand, she wasn’t the only person thinking that way.

The last days of summer holidays ran by quickly. It was already 1^st September and once again children from the wizarding world travelled to London, to get on Hogwarts Express and go to school.
The three Malfoys entered Platform 9 ¾ and proudly headed to the train. By one of the doors they’ve spotted a familiar group of witches.
“Narcissa, Lucius, how wonderful to see you,” said politely Mrs Greengrass; she kept her reserved mask on, but it was obvious she was genuinely happy to see them.
“Draco is growing into a fine young man,” complimented another witch standing next to Daphne and Astoria Greengrass.
“Carys?” said surprised Lucius “Narcissa told me you’re feeling better, but I’d never expect to see you here.”
Mrs Malfoy greeted both Stella and Carys, and looked a bit mad at her husband for his comment.
Carys sent a bit sad look Lucius’ way, but quickly regained her composure. She placed a hand on Daphne’s shoulder and said “I wanted to see my goddaughter off.”
Lucius watched her for a moment and intensively thought about something. He wasn’t very close with his wife’s cousin; Carys was a first year in school when he was in his sixth year; he could say more about her brother, Evan, who was a Death Eater like him. He never even asked Narcissa about her family matters, especially on the Rosier side, so no wonder he never heard about Carys being godmother of one of the Greengrass girls.
“I see,” replied Lucius and turned to his son “Come, Draco. We’ll find a compartment.”
The three women stayed behind with the two girls; there was no need to rush since they already had seats.
“I’m happy to see you here. You seem to feel much better now,” said Narcissa with a polite smile.
“Yes, I’m doing my best. I haven’t been here for my goddaughter for all those years,” answered Carys.
“Don’t be so strict to yourself,” Stella placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “After all, you were the one who suggested naming my daughter ‘Daphne’.”
Narcissa observed the blonde witch and for a second there she saw sadness showing in her eyes. For some time now, she suspected her cousin was hiding something from them; she didn’t know what it was, but it was getting more and more obvious there was something that pained Carys; something the witch didn’t want others to know about. Mrs Malfoy was starting to think that maybe her cousin suffered that she didn’t have children like Narcissa and Stella.
“I always thought I’ll give that name to my daughter,” admitted Carys.
The youngest Greengrass moved impatiently in her place, gaining attention of the three women and her sister.
“What is it Astoria?” asked Stella, confused by the girl’s unusual behaviour; most of the times, her daughters behaved appropriately to their family status; that’s why seeing Astoria fidgeting like that, especially in a public place, was surprising.
“Can I go meet my friends, mother? I’ll find a seat with them,” asked Astoria.
“Alright, but come back here to say goodbye,” allowed her Mrs Greengrass.
With slight amusement she watched her daughter rush towards two fourth year Slytherins. This summer she heard a lot about Astoria’s new friends, but she has never met them. Stella studied them suspiciously.
“Aren’t they your classmates, Daphne?” she asked.
The girl looked in her sister’s direction and saw her talking with a fourth year boy and girl “Yes, they are. But Astoria gets along with them pretty well.”
Narcissa and Carys looked their way interested. Somehow both of them thought the two older Slytherins looked familiar.
“Aren’t they…” Narcissa hesitated, thinking about something and continued after a while “Aren’t they Muggleborns Draco has told me about?”
“Muggleborns?” asked Stella and Carys in unison.
“Yes. We found out quickly, but we’re not talking about it out loud outside of our House,” explained Daphne in a hushed voice.
“Why on Merlin’s name did you allow your sister to befriend them?” asked Mrs Greengrass and at the same time tried to contain her shock and growing anger.
“I introduced them myself,” answered Daphne and rushed with further explanation, because her mother was starting to look very angry. “I didn’t want people from other houses to bother Astoria in her first year. And most students seem to be neutral towards those two, probably because they are Muggleborns. Besides, they are quite good with spells.”
The witches watched two black haired Slytherins following Astoria and walking towards their group. Three women tensed up when they realised the girl wanted to introduce her friends to them; and naturally, they’ll have to be polite to them.
“Mother, these are my friends, Andrew Cameron and Jamie Simmons,” started Astoria.
Both Stella and Narcissa acted with reserve towards the newly met teens, but Carys studied them closely. They may have been Muggleborns, but if there was nothing unique about them, Daphne would never let them get close to her younger sister; and Carys knew that very well.
While Stella was going out of her way to be neutral and polite to her daughter’s Muggleborn friends, Mrs Malfoy couldn’t help feeling suspicious about those two. She vaguely remembered Draco telling her and Lucius about those classmates and their unusual attitude; even though her son never openly admitted it, she could sense from Draco’s words that he had some interest in them and their magical development. There was also something else that Narcissa found interesting – according to her son Cameron and Simmons were not related, yet they could easily pass as siblings based on their looks; and for a moment there she had this insane impression that they reminded her of people she used to know, but then she thought it ridiculous.
“Mingling with rich kids, are you?” a fifth year Hufflepuff boy stopped by their group and sneered at them. “You think the pure-bloods will like you if you befriend this little snake?”
Mrs Greengrass was about to say something, as was Daphne, but the two Muggleborns were faster. Andrew stepped protectively between the other boy and Astoria, stared at him viciously and asked “Cadan, shouldn’t you be with your friends?”
“Don’t think aunt Jenna and uncle Aiden will be happy to know you’ve befriended a little girl to buy your way in the pure-blood community,” answered Cadan looking down at Jamie.
“Just as I’m not happy when others annoy my friends,” said the girl glaring at her cousin. “Now, run along. I’m sure your friends are waiting for you.”
Both Astoria and Daphne were used to such scenes, especially between those three, but Mrs Greengrass, Malfoy and Rosier watched stunned; they have never expected such behaviour from Muggleborns.
In the short moment the entire scene took place, Narcissa haven’t seen exactly what happened that the rude fifth year boy walked away, but then she saw Jamie hiding her wand in the sleeve of her robes. Mrs Malfoy glanced at Stella and saw the other witch also noticed that. Narcissa finally understood what Draco meant whenever he told them about those Muggleborns – they acted in a way they would have never expected of them; and they stood in Astoria’s defence.
“Please forgive that,” apologized Andrew “Jamie’s cousin never got over the fact that Jamie was sorted into Slytherin.”
Cameron and Simmons excused themselves and headed to the train with Astoria.
“Now you understand why I allowed Astoria to be friends with them?” asked Daphne with a smirk.
“Yes,” answered her mother “and that was a very wise decision.”
Stella watched her daughters disappear inside the train, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what just happened before her eyes. She still wasn’t certain if it was a good idea to let her children associate with some Muggleborns, but on the other hand Astoria was happy; and both of those teens were good with magic, according to Daphne; not to mention they were…
“They had dark aura,” said Narcissa in a hushed voice. “You’ve sensed that too, haven’t you?”
“Indeed,” agreed Stella and looked at her friends. She was a bit surprised to see Carys standing there without saying a word and pale as snow with an expression she couldn’t quite understand. “Are you feeling well, Carys? Suddenly you paled?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” she answered and her eyes sparkled happily. “In fact, I haven’t felt better in the last thirteen years.”

Harry woke up with a stinging pain in his forehead. He touched his scar and indeed it felt warm. He sat straight in his seat, rubbing the burning scar.
“Does it hurt, Harry,” asked a concerned voice of Hermione, who stopped reading one of her school books. “Your scar. It’s hurting again, isn’t it?”
“Not much,” he lied. The truth was he almost forgot how painful it was when that scar burned, but for the last few months it started hurting again; he didn’t know the reason why he felt pain again, but he didn’t want to worry his friends.
Hermione however couldn’t be fooled so easily. She stared disapprovingly at Harry like a mother does at a naughty child. She remembered quite well when Harry’s scar hurt him for the first time and with whom that was connected; the fact that they haven’t heard anything about Voldemort for a long time wasn’t helping; all in all, Hermione had a bad feeling about it all.
“Mione, you don’t think it has something to do with You-Know-Who?” Ron, who up until now was completely focused on the newspaper, looked up at his friends, surprise written all over his face.
“Well, you’ve read this,” she pointed at the article in the Daily Prophet, “and you’ve been there, Ron. It can’t be a coincidence that the Dark Mark and Death Eaters appear during Quidditch World Cup, and now, Harry’s scar hurts again.”
Harry agreed with her it couldn’t have been a coincidence, but when it came to the incident on the World Cup there was something odd that he haven’t told anyone yet, not even Sirius. When the Death Eaters showed up and everyone tried to run as far as they could, Harry was scared of what could happen to him and his friends, but at some point he had this strange feeling he shouldn’t be running away; he shouldn’t be afraid; and then, with all the dark spells flowing around, he felt at ease. The next day, Harry couldn’t quite explain why he felt that way, but he decided it would be wise to keep quiet about it; people might misinterpret it if he told them.
“You also said you’re having those strange dreams again, right?” kept asking Hermione and he nodded.
“What does that have to do with anything?” asked Ron.
“Have you forgotten? In our first year Harry had those dreams as well. Then his scar was hurting him also and later Voldemort attacked him,” she pointed out.
“You’re right,” the redhead agreed with her. “But what are we supposed to do about that? We don’t know for sure if HE is back? I mean, even the Ministry is searching now for the one who cast that Mark in the sky. The aurors weren’t even able to capture any Death Eaters. Pity, they didn’t catch Malfoy’s mummy and daddy.”
“You don’t know if they were there with the Death Eaters, Ron,” protested Hermione, who never liked to jump to conclusion without any evidence.
“Oh, come one, Mione. That git always insults you and you stand up in his defence now?” said indignant Ron.
“He’s got a point you know?” said Harry to the girl and walked to the door when he spotted the old witch with the trolley full of sweets.
“I’m far from defending Malfoy, but we really have no evidence his parents were with the attackers.”
“Well, he wouldn’t be standing there, feeling so safe if his family was truly on the Light side and against You-Know-Who,” said the redhead and walked to the trolley.
“True, but still,” Hermione didn’t want to blame others without a solid reason.
She watched her friends almost drooling over the many sweets offered by the old witch. ‘Big children,’ she thought to herself. After a moment, Ron joined her with a disappointed face, and holding only half of the sweets he really wanted to buy.
“Don’t pout, Ronald,” she said firmly “You’re not a baby.”
“I’m not pouting, Hermione,” protested the boy, but his face was burning red.
The girl looked back towards the door and saw her other friend still buying something, when a group of fifth year Ravenclaws walked by. Hermione knew them, or at least one of them – it was Cho Chang; the girl was really pretty and very popular among boys. For some time now, Hermione observed Harry’s reactions to that particular girl; it seemed he liked her. After almost a year of watching them, Hermione was under the impression Harry had a crush on Cho, and she really couldn’t blame him. She wished her friend to be happy, but on the other hand, she knew that there was someone else who had a big crush on Harry – Ginny. The problem was Harry didn’t seem to notice her feelings and treated her as his own sister.
“Hello, Harry,” said sweetly Cho while paying for her purchase.
“H-hi,” stuttered Harry and got to the floor to pick up the sweets he dropped.
The boy didn’t understand why, but the Ravenclaw girls started giggling. He got up just in time to see Cho smile at him again and walk away.
‘What was all that about?’ he thought confused watching them go.
“You want anything else, dear?” asked the old witch. Harry shook his head and got back to his seat.
He shared his chocolate frogs with Ron and after a while he noticed the awkward silence and someone’s gaze on him. He looked up at Hermione, who stared at him intensely and raised her eyebrows questioningly.
“What?” Harry asked surprised.
“You know what,” she said with a smile. “You like her. I can see that.”
“Who?” asked Harry, now seriously feeling lost.
“Yeah, who?” joined Ron, stuffing his mouth with chocolate treats.
“Cho, of course,” she said as it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Eh?!” was all Harry could master. “What are you talking about, Hermione? How did you come up with that?”
“Oh please, Harry. Admit it. You like her,” she kept pushing. “You dropped your food when she spoke to you.”
Harry didn’t like it when she got in that bossy, know-it-all mode of hers. He honestly didn’t have a crush on Cho; true, he dropped his chocolate, but that wasn’t because of the girl’s appearance and it seemed Hermione got this silly idea stuck in her head and she wasn’t letting go of it.
“Fine,” she chuckled “Don’t say anything if you don’t want to, but I have my eyes and can see the way you look at her.”
The teen was glad neither Mione nor Ron wanted to continue that topic, but it kept bugging him for the rest of their trip.
‘It’s not that I like her,’ he thought. ‘True, Cho is pretty, popular and her kindness last year made me feel strange, but that’s just because no girl, other than Mione ever talked to me like that.’
He looked through the glass door of the compartment and saw some sixth year couple kissing in the corridor.
‘Definitely not! I don’t like Cho in that way,’ he continued to watch different girls passing by their compartment and thought ‘I don’t like any girl in that way.’

Sirius sat on a worn-out mattress in the cave he has been living in for a week now, and took out the last letter he received from his godson. He already knew every word that was written in it, but he read it once more.
The man couldn’t stop worrying about the boy; awful things were happening around him and Sirius couldn’t be there for him. Seeing Death Eaters for the first time must have been a shock for Harry, but Black was interested in something else; something Harry didn’t write about.
“If only I knew how he felt around all that dark magic,” muttered Sirius to himself.
He stood up and walked there and forth thinking about his situation. He wanted to go back to Britain to protect Harry and tell him everything he knew about that last years of the war, but he knew it was risky. The other matter was how Harry would take the news.
“I doubt anyone has discussed it with him,” the man ruffled his hair irritated “But he has to know what happened. I have to tell him. I owe it to James and Lily.”
Sirius lay down on the mattress and replaced the letter with the Daily Prophet Harry send him. It helped him keep track with what was going on in his country and whether they were still looking for him or not.
Honestly he hoped the Ministry would focus on Voldemort now after the World Cup, but once more everything was against him. The aurors still remembered about him, especially since there was a new criminal attacking kids and the Daily Prophet claimed it was him.
“Really, why would I attack kids?” he said annoyed and suspiciously studied the photo that someone managed to take of the culprit. That photo however didn’t help much, since it was taken from afar and there was visible only a dark silhouette of Shadow jumping off the roof. “Why are you doing that, I wonder. You’re not hurting them obviously…then why?”

A large man in a worn-out coat stood in the doorway to the library. He knew his master expected him, but even so, he decided to wait for permission to enter. His master has been in a slightly better mood for the last few days, but there were still moments when he was too unpredictable and unstable.
“Come in,” hissed a hoarse voice in the library.
The man walked in and kneeled down by the armchair in the centre of the room.
“Let me have a look,” said the Dark Lord and studied the wizard before him.
He was tall with broad shoulders; his face was covered with scars and that characteristic blue, magical eye that moved around all the time.
“Oh, yes,” hissed the icy voice with contentment “you’re ready to go.”
“Yes, my Lord,” the wizard got back on his knees “I will not fail you, my lord.”
“You’d better, otherwise it might end painfully for you,” Voldemort waved his hand and the door to the room closed with a loud thud. “You proved to be a loyal servant for the last months, Barty. However, there was a small change in the original plan.”
“What change, my Lord?” he asked confused; he was preparing to impersonate Mad-Eye for weeks, he only hoped his master hasn’t changed his mind about him going to Hogwarts.
“You will continue to follow the plan, but there’s going to be a small ‘addition’ waiting for you in Hogwarts,” he smirked thinking about how well everything was going for him.
“An addition?”
“Yes, there will be one more spy inside the castle, but each of you will have a different task and you’re going to work separately until I say otherwise,” Voldemort could see by Barty’s face that he was trying to figure out who that other spy was and judging by the younger wizard’s cleverness he’d already found the answer. “You will not seek him, as he will not seek you, unless I want you to work together. Is that clear, Barty?”
Crouch couldn’t think of anyone else than Shadow as a spy. Right now, the Dark Lord had only two loyal servants, him and Wormtail, but it looked like his master took a liking to their unexpected ally.
“Yes, my Lord,” he finally answered, bowed low and left the room.
Barty went down the stairs to the large trunk and headed outside to get out of the protection wards.
The weather was dreadful and perspective of impersonating the old auror wasn’t very thrilling. The Dark Lord wanted him to do some research in Hogwarts, get to know the students and their magical abilities; but most of all, to teach them about magical affinities and maybe a few neutral or even minor dark spells. At the beginning he thought it would be boring, since he was absolutely sure majority of children in Hogwarts were Light wizards and the rest was simply forbidden to use dark magic. However, when he saw what Shadow has been doing with wizarding children’s magic he was getting excited for the upcoming school year.
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Harry Potter and the wizarding world