Twisted Fascination

Halloween took no time at all to arrive, though the Purebloods in Slytherin typically rolled their eyes and muttered, "It's Samhain, not Halloween."

I had thrown myself into research about the holiday, which was apparently Pagan in origin. I eagerly learned more between classes, happy to discover more about what most witches and wizards considered to be Dark Arts.

The Pagans apparently performed different rituals, most of which were only mentioned as Dark. Those rituals would be to appease some Ancient Deities, at least according to some books I read. Other books said that the rituals were to obtain Dark powers. There was one book I found, however, that said the rituals were merely a tribute to something known as Lady Magic.

Needless to say, I decided to research more into the older ways of witches and wizards.

Lady Magic was, apparently, the source of all magical abilities in witches and wizards. She wasn't a person, more of a concept really. It was believed by the older generations that Lady Magic would favor those who proved themselves in her eyes, though it wasn't truly known how to prove yourself to her. She also had two counterparts, Lady Fate and Lord Death respectively.

Lady Fate looked over the fate of all beings, magical or not. She did not favor one over the other. It was merely her responsibility to weave the threads of fate, which dictated how everything in the world would play out. She did, though, step back and allow Lady Magic and Lord Death to occasionally fiddle with her threads of life when they believed it necessary to keep the world surviving for longer.

Lord Death was, as you may have guessed by his name, death incarnate. He, supposedly, was the only one who could cut the threads that Fate weaved. Beyond that, there was only speculation on him. No one knew if he was benevolent or not, but more books than not said he was a vindictive monstrosity with no heart.

I was mulling over those facts one night, having finished my essay on Dittany's uses for Herbology an hour earlier. I wanted to know more about the Three Ancient Ones, and I would have sold Harry off to the Dark Lord if it meant I could learn just a bit more.

"That's an intense expression."

I blinked once, masking my expression. I then turned my head to look at the one who had disrupted my thinking.

It was Zabini, who held a piece of parchment in one hand, and his bag in the other. "What were you thinking of?"

"I wish to pursue certain knowledge," I stated as I turned my focus back to the fireplace I had been staring into. "It seems, however, that the knowledge is deemed as Dark, meaning I certainly won't find it in the library."

"Have you considered trying the Forbidden Section?" Zabini questioned.

"I have," I admitted, "Though, I don't know which book I must look into. Therefore, I am waiting until a better time to continue my research."

"What knowledge are you looking for?" Zabini asked curiously.

I gave him a sharp grin. "That's for me to know."

The boy looked displeased, but didn't argue. He instead glanced over at the windows of the room where the mermaids were looking in. "Well, I'm going to bed."

I merely hummed in acknowledgement.

Zabini took his leave.

I stared into the flames for a while longer, turning over what I had learned in my head. Once I found myself growing tired, I departed to the dormitory.

It was Thursday morning, Samhain, when the smell of baking pumpkin wafted through the castle's corridors.

I was incredibly hungry as I made for the Great Hall with the other Slytherins of my year.

Said Slytherins all seemed to happily chat about this and that, obviously eager to see what Dumbledore had set up for the feast that night.

The first class of the day was Herbology. We continued to go over our lesson on Dittany and its properties.

Then, the time for D.A.D.A. arrived. As usual, nothing of importance happened in the class.

It was announced during our Flying Class that we'd need to dress warm from then on, as snow was definitely going to fall during the next lesson. Beyond that, we flew around as normal, practicing certain moves and whatnot.

Finally, dinner came.

A thousand love bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter.

The feast appeared on golden plates suddenly, just as it had with the start-of-term banquet.

I was just helping myself to some sweet corn when Quirrell came sprinting into the hall.

His turban was askew, and terror was visible on his face. he kept sprinting right up to Dumbledore's chair and slumped against the table so he could gasp, "Troll - in the dungeons - thought you ought to know…" He then proceeded to sink to the floor in a dead faint.

I hummed once before continuing to serve myself corn.

Everyone without a brain began an uproar.

I merely served myself some mashed potatoes and smothered them with gravy. I was finally beginning to eat my food when Dumbledore stood up.

He sent several purple firecrackers from the end of his wand, silencing the hall. "Perfects, lead your Houses back to your dormitories immediately!"

"I know this is stupid to say," I stated as I remained seated, "But the Slytherin dormitories are in the dungeons, and Quirrell was stupid enough not to specify where the troll is in the dungeons."

As if recalling that detrimental fact, several Slytherins immediately went to our Head of House for better instructions.

Snape scowled before telling us Slytherins to simply stay put in the Great Hall before whisking away to deal with the troll.

I nodded once before continuing to eat.

"How can you eat in this situation?!" Parkinson asked me loudly, looking shocked speechless.

I looked at her with a dull expression. "What else are we going to do? Play chess?"

"There's a troll-"

"I am more than sure that the troll will be dealt with," I said reassuringly as Quirrell seemingly awoke. I watched the man stumble around before looking at us in surprise.

"Wh-what are you st-still doing h-h-here?" The man stuttered out.

"If you think we want to be mauled by a troll, you're dead wrong," I said firmly before relaxing myself. "Now, make yourself useful." I waved the man off dismissively before going back to eating.

Quirrell looked remarkably shocked as he stared at me, his mouth agape and everything. Then, he shook himself straight and hesitantly left the Great Hall.

I rolled my eyes at the fool before taking a bite of my chicken.

"You can't just talk like that to a professor," Greengrass hissed at me.

I blanched before swallowing my food. "Greengrass, do you honestly believe he is actually teaching us anything?"

"Well, of course-"

"I have learned more this year by reading my textbook than listening to that oaf," I commented, "Honestly, his stutter and overall meek demeanor make him the worst possible match for teaching this subject, and yet he's still in such a position. As far as I'm concerned, he's useless, and so is the headmaster for hiring him."

Nott snorted before sitting back in his seat. "He's not wrong . Let's just enjoy the feast, Greengrass." He then took a hearty swig of his pumpkin juice before eating even more.

Hesitantly, more Slytherins began to join in until it was like the troll was forgotten entirely.

I was just about to finish my plate when a thunderous crash came from the floor above us. I hummed once as we all looked toward the ceiling. Then, I casually said, "Well, someone should go get the professors." With that out of the way, I continued to eat my dinner.

"Stay here!" Farley demanded before she rushed from the hall, Wellington groaning softly before following after the girl.

There was another crash, followed by a roar that definitely signaled anger. More crashing followed, followed by an even louder crash, as if something the side of the front doors of Hogwarts just fell over.

I blinked once before smiling brightly. "Oh, dessert!" I took a pumpkin pasty, but only because it was Samhain.

Some third year looked over at me while giving a long-suffering expression. "Potter, you are undoubtedly the weirdest first year…"

"I'm sure there have been weirder," I assured the boy.

"Not this year," he grumbled.

I internally scoffed before taking a bite of my dessert.

Farley and Wellington entered the Great Hall at that moment.

"Alright, let's move down to the dungeons! It's been cleared and deemed safe!" Farley commanded.

Everyone abandoned their plates and made for the dungeons in an orderly fashion.

I casually took up the back of the line, just strolling along while listening into the chatter of the Slytherins. As we walked down to the common room in the dungeons, I suddenly overheard a question that made me pause.

"Why was Quirrell in the dungeons anyway?" Some third-year asked, earning a shrug from another third-year.

A boy butted into their conversation and said, "At least he made it up here to warn us before we wandered back down and became troll food."

He flinches at his own shadow. How in Merlin's name could he actually make it up to the Great Hall from the dungeons without fainting sooner? Furthermore, what was he doing down there in the dungeons? Was he trying to make a distraction? I narrowed my eyes sharply as we turned a corner. More concerning than that, however, is Dumbledore. Why he was so willing to put us in harm's way is beyond me. He could have had a death on his hands, but did he care?Oh, no. I barely held in a scoff.

We students entered the common room, where more dinner and desserts waited for us in a buffet style.

I passed right by, thinking things over. I sat down in a spot further from the fireplace, merely sitting in the shadows. I was displeased by my thoughts, and nothing would change that displeasure any time soon.

For the following few days, people seemed to avoid me, saying that there was something too dark in my eyes as I went about my daily life. They didn't want anything to do with someone who gave off an aura of danger, or so they said.

Well, almost everyone.

Nott was not one of those people. He merely sat down to me one day at the table in the Great Hall. Then, he proceeded to set everyone on edge by asking me, "So, what crawled up your arse and died?"

" Nott ," Greengrass hissed at the boy, looking horrified.

I barely held in a sigh. "Is that truly any of your business?"

"Is it because you're an insomniac?" Nott pressed.

"No," I denied, "I've actually been getting more sleep recently."

He hummed softly, his brow furrowed a bit. "Then, why are you so-"

"I do not believe that's your business," I stated, "Now, if you truly wish to get into a verbal spat over it, I suggest you do it elsewhere, as I'm not in the mood to get House points taken off." I motioned for him to run along like he was a pesky child, which he was, especially when I was trying to read my morning paper.

"Is there something wrong with you?" Nott pressed.

I felt my lips curl into a smirk. "I've been asked that on several different occasions. I assure you, the muggles cannot find a single thing wrong with me, and I doubt your Mediwitches could find anything wrong either."

Nott looked at me eagerly. "Is that a challenge?"

I looked back at him, my eyes surely flashing red. "Let's see what you can make stick, Nott." With that, I closed my newspaper and picked up my bag. "Now, I believe it's almost time for our first class." I departed from the Great Hall, eagerly awaiting what slander Nott would attempt to stick to me.

And boy, Nott sure made me wait.

I had almost forgotten about that little agreement when the newspaper came on Friday morning. I felt a demented sort of glee as I looked down at my picture that had to have been taken at the Leaky Cauldron. It was a shot taken without my knowledge, and it showed me sneering at Quirrell as he shuffled away from Harry.

Colton Potter is Actually a Dark Lord in the Making?!

Not much is known about Colton Potter. He is the brother to the Boy-Who-Lived, so most people would expect him to be just as Light as the one who saved the Wizarding World from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. However, it has come to several people's attention that he is likely a Dark Lord in the making.

     Colton Potter was sorted into Slytherin at the beginning of the year, and he's displaying many concerning habits already.

     One student at Hogwarts confided to me, "He's a parseltongue. Everyone in Slytherin knows it. That's not the worst part, though. His eyes can turn red."

     Another student was reported as saying, "It's all true. He's definitely a Dark Wizard in the making. To make things even worse, his temper is terrifying. He's liable to summon a fire just to get back at you for angering him."

     There was an incident on July 31st at Diagon Alley, where he was reportedly overheard threatening Lord Lucius Malfoy. When asked, Lord Malfoy refused to comment on the subject, but the informant said that Potter had red eyes as he spoke to Lord Malfoy.

     If Colton is a Dark Lord in the making, these would definitely be the first signs. I believe we should be cautious of this boy, especially with those actions displayed in public.

I just about laughed at the article, but managed to keep a mainly neutral face. I calmly read through the other articles, checked on the stock market, and finally folded up my newspaper.

Nott, the prat, wasn't too subtle about the smirk he gave me. He seemed confused, however, when I stood up from my spot and passed him by.

"I'll be in the library, finishing up my essay about Alchemy for History of Magic," I said to the others.

Nott frowned immediately, clearly displeased with my lack of reaction.

I was allowed to go alone, and I sat down in the library calmly. I then gave a wide grin as I began to carefully write out a letter to Rita Skeeter.

Dear Ms. Skeeter,

     I read your article this morning, and I wish to speak with you in person about what you wrote about. Unfortunately, seeing as how I am a student of Hogwarts, I'll be unable to speak in person with you until the winter break. If you are interested in talking to me regarding what your informants have said, please, contact me back.

I then signed my little letter and tucked it away to later deliver it to the owlery. After a small pause, I decided to write to Vernon as well.

Dear Uncle Vernon,

     I find myself in need of a ride once Winter Break begins. Rest assured, I won't bother you for anything else, and I'll even check the stocks again for you. I'll also add in a favor of your choosing, should you give me the ride that I need. I won't be staying with you for the holidays, but I will need to be transported from King's Cross station to a wizard's inn in London.

Best Regards,

Colton Potter

With that done, I did work a bit on my History of Magic essay before heading off to my first class of the day.

My fellow Slytherins continued to eye me wearily as I entered class, perfectly chipper. They appeared ready for me to lash out at any moment, but they clearly didn't know that I thrived off those kinds of incidents.

I made it through Double Potions with no problems, stopping by the owlery when everyone was at lunch. I then used a school owl to send my letter off to the Daily Prophet's main office at Diagon Alley. I used a different school owl to send a letter to Vernon and internally hoped that he wouldn't get too upset with an owl showing up. With that done, I decided to skip the rest of my lunch period to work on my History of Magic essay. I was quickly finding that the study of alchemy was based heavily in runes and purifying metals, which I found interesting.

Of course, there was also the Philosopher's Stone, created by Nicholas Flamel, which basically raised my interest dramatically in the subject. Apparently, it was a real thing and not just a muggle myth that something could extend your life, give you an abundance of wealth, and quite possibly tamper with reality as muggles knew it.

With lunch soon ending, I packed up my things and headed down to Herbology.

Herbology was as boring as usual, but at least I did learn a few things from it.

Then, classes ended for Friday, and we Slytherins migrated back to the castle.

Malfoy was eagerly talking about the Quidditch match that would happen tomorrow with Davis, who was constantly ignoring the annoyed glare of Parkinson.

Apparently, it would be the first match of the season, and it would be Slytherin against Gryffindor.

I had no interest in such a thing, and I decided to treat it as a normal Saturday, which meant I would be in the library. So, the next day, I woke up early, ate my breakfast, and headed out to the library to work on my History of Magic essay. I was more than happy to miss the Quidditch match as I wrote out my very detailed essay on alchemic studies and famous alchemists in wizarding history. I then set my essay to dry, went back to casually looking up facts about alchemy and how to do such.

It was about dinner time when I finally left the library.

I headed down to the Great Hall, only to find the majority of the Slytherin House looking very upset while the Gryffindors were extraordinarily happy. I ignored their attitudes and went to my normal seat.

"Where have you been?" Malfoy snapped as he glared at me.

I raised an eyebrow as I said, "The library. Where else would I have been?"

"Supporting our team!" Davis exclaimed as she looked at me like I had committed some grave sin. "It was the first Quidditch match of the year!"

"Oh, you actually expected me to show up to your little sporting event?" I scoffed loudly. "Well, I have better things to do with my time than watch a match where we lose, which we clearly did if the Gryffindors are so upbeat."

Several of the Slytherins around me scowled deeply.

"You don't have any House pride, do you?" Malfoy sneered at me.

"Oh, is that what you believe now?" I asked as I looked at him, rather unamused. "I could have sworn you thought I was the next Dark Lord, especially if the newspaper from yesterday is to be believed."

The already pale boy paled even more. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Oh, Malfoy, let's not play games," I said with a heavy sigh. "I know both you and Nott wrote to Rita Skeeter about me. I'm not daft ."

Malfoy didn't confirm nor deny any accusations I sent his way, but his face said it all.

I held in another sigh, that one of disapproval. "Of course, I hope you realize that taking things outside of Slytherin House is very frowned upon, and I sincerely hope you won't use such a childish tactic again." With that, I turned my focus to dinner and began to serve myself.

"You're not… upset?" Zabini questioned, looking at me with a furrowed brow.

"Quite the contrary," I stated, "I'm glad people realize who they will be messing with and will thus back off on any foolish ideas they may have previously had."

Zabini looked shocked, as did the other Slytherins.

"Wait, so, you won't be getting back at Nott?" Davis asked, earning a scowl from the boy in question.

I chuckled as if highly amused by the notion, but didn't comment further. I had my plans in motion, and I had no intentions of letting things out too soon.

"I guess you are related to the Potters after all," Malfoy muttered, giving me a small look of disgust.

I benevolently ignored the look, just like a good Dark Lord would until it was the best time to strike. I continued with dinner, and soon found myself almost all alone at the Slytherin table.

That's when Harry wandered over, looking extremely hesitant. He fiddled his fingers as he stared down at me, clearly not knowing how to start a conversation.

"What do you wish to know?" I questioned as I glanced at my younger brother.

"Do you know the name Nicholas Flamel?" He asked.

"Harry, if you don't know that name, I am quite worried about your History of Magic essay," I said with complete honesty.

"Oh, did he do alchemy?" Harry inquired as if he had no idea what I was talking about.

"He's the only alchemist in history to have ever created the Philosopher's Stone," I said, giving the boy a look like he really should have known that.

"The Philosopher's Stone?" My brother parroted.

"It can turn any metal to gold, and it can be used to produce something called the Elixir of Life," I stated as I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Wh-what does the Elixir of Life do?" Harry asked nervously.

"What do you think it does?" I asked rhetorically before just saying, "The library has plenty of information about Flamel in the alchemy section. Just… ask Granger. I heard she can read through several advanced books, so she'll be able to help you." With that, I motioned for him to run along.

He did as silently ordered, looking very eager to tell his little Weasley friend about what he had learned.

I barely held in a scoff before wondering why he was so interested in Nicholas Flamel, especially if it wasn't for anything school-related. I eventually shrugged it off as unimportant, especially considering Harry rarely used his knowledge to benefit himself. I figured I wouldn't get in trouble for giving him the answers he sought.

The following day at breakfast, I watched as three owls came and delivered me mail.

The first letter was from Vernon, who agreed to give me a ride, so long as I swore that I wouldn't bother him for a ride back to the station. He then went on to tell me to tell me that my brother could not come along, as he was picking up Dudley and didn't want the two to interact.

I was perfectly fine with that, so I moved on to the next letter, which was from Rita Skeeter. I opened it and saw that she had eagerly agreed to meet up with me during December.

She suggested that we meet at the Leaky Cauldron in one of the private meeting rooms on 27th She then asked for a letter to return to her if such conditions were okay with me.

I packed up my letters and took my morning paper from the third owl before heading off to the library. There, I wrote letters to Vernon and Skeeter both, confirming the times and dates that I would see them. With that done, I headed off to the owlery and sent the letters off, glad that no one else was really there to see me do such. I then returned to the library and read my paper before working on my Potions essay for the rest of the day.

With that, my monotonous life continued on.