Twisted Fascination

I was attempting to enjoy my morning paper when an owl dropped a red envelope on my plate. I barely bit back an annoyed groan as I folded up my paper and picked up the Howler. I opened it just as a second Howler dropped onto my plate.

“Colton Seth Potter! I know you didn't get entered into the fucking Triwizard Tournament without writing to me! Do you know just how bad my goddamn heart dropped when I found out through Rita Motherfucking Skeeter that you had been entered without your permission, much less your knowledge?! Next time, write a letter and send it to me, or I'll do much worse than a single Howler!”

I watched as the letter promptly tore itself up, signaling that Sirius Black was definitely having the temper tantrum of the century. Hesitantly, I looked at the second Howler, which looked to be smoking so bad it mind as well have been on fire. I begrudgingly opened that one, and the stern voice of my godfather had filled the air like the calm before the storm.

“Colton, I just had to listen to Sirius rant at me for an entire hour about your lack of respect for those who care about you. If I could, I would send a Stinging Jinx via Howler, just so that you could have a taste of my suffering. The next time I have to sit through one of his rants, I'll actually curse you. Rest assured, Sirius and I will be at all the events just to publicly humiliate you for this.”

I tore up the letter with a large scowl, and I watched as it burst into flames right afterwards. I expected that to be the end of it, but a third fucking letter dropped onto my plate. I, seeing that it wasn't a Howler, calmed myself marginally. I opened it, only to see that Mrs. Weasley had written and said that she, as well as her husband, were quite worried about me and that Mr. Weasley would talk to Crouch about my participation. I groaned as I dropped the letter down and rubbed my temples.

Two owls came next, and they basically dropped a package the size of a textbook onto my plate. If that plate wasn't made of pure gold, it would have broken in several pieces.

I almost screamed in irritation as I grabbed the large package, only to pause upon seeing a small note attached from Crouch. I opened the package and saw it was the contract that was magically signed on my behalf when someone entered me into the Triwizard Tournament, as well as the rules to said tournament. I promptly forgot about my irritation as I seized the sizable contract, my newspaper, and the letter from the Weasleys. I shoved all of them into my bag and headed to the library for a bit of early reading, which naturally turned into an entire day of reading.

The contract was, of course, something that was impossible to waive, as expected. There were so many clauses added in that any possible kind of backing out or lack of participation was unacceptable, too. A contestant would die before they could half-ass their participation. The rules, however, said that just about anything was legal so long as none of the spectators, be they judges or otherwise, were manipulated and/or harmed during the different trials of the tournament.

I was grateful, at the end of the day, that I at least had free reign during the trials. I could perform any number of Dark spells and not get thrown out.

Expelled at the end of the year, perhaps, but not thrown out of the tournament. Even if I did get expelled, the prize of a thousand Galleons would be more than sufficient to live off of for the rest of my life.

With everything settled in my mind, I headed back down to the Great Hall for dinner. I calmly took my seat, ignoring how the other Hogwarts students seemed to all try and get a look at me. I served myself food and ate as usual, paying no mind to the masses.

“I heard you got two Howlers this morning,” Nott said as he leaned toward me a bit.

“I did,” I confirmed. “That's not what you wish to know about, though, now is it?”

“What will you do to them for sending Howlers?” The boy asked.

“I haven't decided yet,” I replied honestly.

Nott looked a bit disappointed by the news.

“In any case,” Greengrass cut in, “Have you been practicing for the first trial?”

“The trial is to test one’s bravery, not their preparation,” I said, “I will face the trial in the dark with only the spells that I know about.”

“You could die that way,” Zabini pointed out.

“I’ll claw my way to survival if I have to,” I assured the other Slytherins.

They evidently weren't assured by my words, but they didn't say anything more in the matter.

I ignored their worrying for the rest of the evening.

The following morning, of course, proved to be much more worrisome.

Harry was basically waiting outside of the Great Hall, and he was looking ready to break down crying.

I bit back a groan as I begrudgingly dragged my feet toward him, knowing he had gotten himself worked into a tizzy and needed me to calm him down.

“Colton, I need to talk to you,” he said urgently.

“I figured,” I said dryly.

He looked over my shoulder, and he shuffled a bit.

I sighed before saying, “Follow me.” I then began walking toward the marble staircase.

Harry sniffled as he followed after me.

I led him to an empty classroom and leaned against a desk lazily.

Harry made sure the door was shut before walking up to me. “You know how I had that dream during the summer?”

I immediately straightened up. “You had another one?”

“Yes, and I can't remember it clearly, but I know that you're in danger,” Harry said fretfully.

“Harry, as long as we're at Hogwarts, the Dark Lord won't touch us,” I assured the boy.

“But…” Harry trailed off nervously before mumbling, “Moody said that Professor Karkaroff was a Death Eater.”

“Ah, that,” I said, causing Harry to pause.

He then looked at me in shock and asked, “You didn't tell me?”

“Harry, he turned on the other Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. He's the reason four Death Eaters, including Rodolphus Lestrange, ended up in Azkaban. He's probably scared out of his wits, especially with Moody here to hover over him,” I reasoned aloud. “I didn't tell you because I didn’t – still don't, really – perceive him as a threat to you.”

“Well, what about you?” Harry pressed.

I raised an eyebrow at the boy.

“Just because you’re smart doesn't mean you can out-maneuver an adult!” He exclaimed as he threw his hands into the air.

“Harry, I really appreciate the concern, but I’m not going to just duel a Death Eater,” I stated.

“But he's dangerous,” Harry stressed.

“I know,” I assured my brother, “I’m not some foolhardy Gryffindor, okay? I'm not going to get myself in trouble unless I can help it.”

“We don't just get ourselves in trouble,” the Gryffindor grumbled.

“My point is that I'll try to stay in the shadows for now,” I said, “You try to do the same.”

“I don't go looking for trouble!” Harry squawked indignantly.

“I know that,” I said soothingly, “But you have to admit that trouble finds you a lot.”

After giving a withering glare, my brother mumbled, “You’ll actually be careful, right?”

“I'll actually be careful,” I said as I patted his shoulder.

He stared at me for a long moment before nodding.

I squeezed his shoulder gently before saying, “Let's go get breakfast.”

“Okay,” he mumbled as I dropped my hand to my side. He then followed after me as I led the way to the Great Hall.

I separated from him as soon as we arrived, and I headed over to the Slytherin table to collect my paper.

“What did he want?” Draco asked as he glared at my brother.

“How many of you know Occlumency?” I questioned as I looked at the fourth-year Slytherins.

They all glanced between themselves.

Finally, Draco replied hesitantly, “I do.”

I didn't hesitate to invade his mind and rummage through surface-level memories.

Draco, after wincing just slightly, immediately began to try to get me from his mind.

“You need more practice,” I chastised as I released my hold on the magic connecting us. “Who else?”

Parkinson looked apprehensive as she began, “Why did you–”

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Nott mumbled gravely.

“It is,” I confirmed, causing the others to look between Nott and myself in concern. I sighed heavily before leaning back. “You all need lessons in Occlumency.”

They once again exchanged glances before looking back at me with the utmost apprehension.

Zabini finally asked softly, “Are you going to teach us?”

“It may take a bit, but I'm hoping to at least give you all rudimentary understanding in the subject,” I said honestly.

“Then, I have no problem learning,” Zabini stated as he turned his attention toward his food.

I saw that the others shared the sentiment, and a bit of relief filled me. I then picked up my paper and glanced at the stocks before looking over the rest of the Daily Prophet for any hint at the Dark Lord’s movements.

Naturally, there weren't any indications that the Dark Lord was even in the British Isles.

I folded up my newspaper soon after and headed to the first class of the day.

As breaks in the day passed, I would use Legilimency to see who could and could not use Occlumency effectively. I wasn't surprised to know that Zabini knew Occlumency enough to ward away basic level thoughts. Of course, I was horrified to enter Bulstrode’s mind and find that she had a crush on Goyle. After that terribly attained knowledge, I decided to ask before I invaded the minds of the other fourth-year Slytherins.

Unfortunately, that came back to bite me in the ass when Pucey whipped his head around while we were all at dinner. “Are you actually using Legilimency on another Slytherin, Potter?”

“Yes,” I replied as I looked at the older student in confusion.

Pucey looked downright furious as he hissed, “You're not supposed to be using that kind of magic on another Slytherin.”

“What if they asked me to?” I challenged.

“I would rather have Sirius Black in my mind than you,” he said. 

“You would trust that mutt in your brain?” I asked incredulously.

“Over you? Yes,” he said.

I stared, thoroughly offended, for a moment before turning toward Draco. “What about you?”

“Don't involve me in this,” he pleaded.

“Look,” Nott interjected before I could become any more indignant, “We collectively believe that we need to learn Occlumency, and Potter generously offered to teach us.”

“You know Occlumency?” Pucey asked doubtfully as he gazed at me.

I was just about ready to curse the older Slytherin when I felt something try, and fail, to pierce through my Occlumency shield. I rolled my eyes to the ceiling before looking at Pucey with no amusement in my gaze.

He was staring at me with a fearful expression that bordered on terrified. “You – you know how to block that?”

“Yes,” I answered as my brow furrowed deeply.

“Merlin’s balls, Colton,” Draco whispered in awe.

Immediately, Pucey scowled at Draco. “Shut up, Malfoy.”

The pale boy didn't even look abashed, instead gazing at me as if I was some kind of God in the flesh.

Pucey turned his gaze back to me, a critical look in his eyes. “Who did you learn from?”

Before I could come up with a decent lie, Nott interfered. “Does it matter? He obviously knows how to use Occlumency, and he offered to share some insight.”

“Why do you even have an interest in learning?” Pucey demanded to know.

“You know why – my father made certain of that,” Nott hissed venomously.

Pucey flinched just slightly before finally sitting back. “Snape would be a better teacher.”

“Be that as it may, he's already got Dumbledore breathing down his neck,” I pointed out to Pucey, “I’m not going to make him teach Occlumency under the pressure he's already under.”

Pucey hesitated for a mere moment before finally starting, “Potter, if I look the other way–”

“Who has to know but us?” I asked with a raised brow. “Surely, you realize that everything will be traced back to me.”

Pucey sighed heavily before turning his head away. “Don’t get yourself killed, Potter.”

I nodded once, though I knew that if push came to shove, I'd be out on my own should the Dark Lord genuinely return.

§I’m still with you,§ the Dark Lord in my head assured me, which did exactly nothing to ease my concern.

Regardless of that, I turned back to Davis, who looked at me with absolutely no fear in her gaze.

“I'm ready,” she said confidently.

I immediately pierced her mind and began routing through her basic thoughts. I stopped after a moment, and I released my magic connecting myself to her. I deemed her inexperienced, and I turned my focus to Greengrass.

Greengrass merely blinked once as I invaded her mind before musing aloud, “Do you always make that pinch feeling?”

“No,” I said honestly, “But I figured it's best to give some kind of warning for my fellow Slytherins.”

She hummed before asking, “Could you do it on me with no pinch?”

I released my hold on her before gently blanketing her mind with my magic. I waited for a moment, merely hearing her surface-level thoughts before I began to rummage around.

She made a slightly startled expression before schooling her expression. “You downplay your Legilimency abilities, don't you?”

“I really can't go deeper than surface level,” I admitted.

“You probably could if you finished learning,” she said with a lopsided frown.

I merely shrugged before releasing my hold on her mind. I then looked toward Moon, only for Pucey to once again try and invade my mind, though that time he mind as well had used Snape’s technique of just ramming all his magic into my brain at once. I hissed in pain before snapping my head around to glare at Pucey, who I managed to just barely keep out.

Pucey was looking at me with a genuinely horrified expression. “Potter, I'm asking because I am concerned – who taught you?”

“Why do you insist on knowing?” I demanded.

“Because that technique was taught to my father by the Dark Lord, and no one's ever beaten it before,” Pucey answered gravely.

I blinked once or twice before saying slowly, “If I tell you, you could very well go after my teacher and then get me killed in the process.”

“Please, tell me it wasn't Dumbledore,” he requested.

I immediately made a face of disgust. “Like hell I would willingly let that old man root around my mind.”

Pucey sighed in relief.

I then proceeded to be subtle about invading his mind, and I proceeded to pull up various surface-level memories, only to pause upon one where I saw who I assumed to be Pucey’s father.

“Potter,” Pucey hissed as he forced me from his mind, “That wasn't funny.”

“I wasn't trying to be funny,” I stated, “I was trying to teach you that subtlety is much nicer than trying to break my mind in half.”

Pucey looked about two milliseconds away from giving me a detention when Draco asked, “Oh, is that why you winced?”

“It wasn't that bad,” Pucey grumbled.

“Do you want me to demonstrate to you just how painful that was?” I asked as I looked at Pucey with a smile.

“So you can cripple me?” Pucey asked as if I'd only cripple him. “Merlin, no.” He then looked at Warrington and said, “If I die within the next two years, look at Potter first.”

I rolled my eyes at his foolishness. I then looked back at Moon and received a nod. I quickly entered her mind and picked between a few surface memories before saying aloud, “You all need to learn how to keep calm. I'm invading your mind, not poisoning you.”

Draco pouted like the little kid he was deep down. “How do you expect us to keep calm when you could see something you're not supposed to?”

I immediately wrinkled my nose in distaste. “Then, don't think about snogging anyone. Problem solved.”

As a few other Slytherins snickered, Nott said, “Okay, I'm calm. Try me again.”

I did without batting an eyelash, and I found that he had, in fact, worked on his breathing exercises. I routed through a few memories before releasing my hold on my magic. “Good. You're calm. Open as a book, but still calm.”

Nott scowled. “How do you use Occlumency then?”

I gave the same basic pointers of avoiding eyes and the like that the Dark Lord had given me before saying, “If you truly want a better start, then I highly suggest you wandlessly practice the Floating Charm. Once you know how to manipulate your magic without a wand, it'll be much easier to protect your mind.”

“How do you do that, anyway?” Davis asked.

“It's all about intent when casting wandless magic like that,” I stated simply.

The other fourth-year Slytherins shared a few glances.

“Well, I suppose it'll be easier than doing it wordlessly and wandlessly,” Davis finally said as she looked at me.

“Exactly,” I said with a nod of approval.

“Merlin, Colton, you don't use your summer break as an actual break, do you?” Draco asked as if insulted by my lack of taking breaks.

“Between reading and homework, I do,” I argued right away.

The Slytherins nearby once again shot around a few spare looks, though that time they were clearly internally thinking that I didn't know how to relax on my break.

“In any case,” I said sternly after finishing my dinner, “I’ll be in the common room doing my Charms homework–”

“I heard you don’t have to do the end-of-year exams though,” Davis said.

“I’m still going to do them. Who knows what will happen if I let Granger get egotistical?” I asked as I eyed the Gryffindor from across the hall.

Draco snorted as a few others chuckled and shook their heads.

I took my leave, and I was content that night to make progress with my essays.

Of course, the next morning proved to be even more disastrous.

I was out of the common room as soon as curfew lifted, and I was casually sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall when Harry and his friends basically sprinted into the room and over to me.

Harry looked at me with a genuinely terrified look as he sat down right next to me. “Dragons,” he said, completely out of breath. “It's dragons.”

“What?” I asked with a furrowed brow.

“The first task,” he said while panting heavily, “You have to fight a dragon.”

I barely held in a groan of annoyance. “Harry, I'm – no one, rather – is supposed to know.”

“Hagrid showed Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff was hiding nearby,” Harry explained halfheartedly.

“So those from the other schools already know,” I mused aloud before looking at Harry. “Well, go tell Diggory.”

Harry's brow furrowed. “What? Why?”

“Diggory's the only one that doesn't know,” I stated, “He has an unfair disadvantage now, and I'm not fighting against a wizard who has a disadvantage. If I fight, it's on equal footing so I can crush them properly.”

Harry blanched at me, but understood that he had no choice in the matter.

“So, what are you going to do?” Ron asked.

“About…?” I asked as I looked at him expectantly.

“The dragon,” he said.

I blinked once. “Nothing. I mean, if I prepare myself accordingly, they'll know that I had prior knowledge and could penalize me.”

Ron stared incredulously at me.

“That's ridiculous,” Hermione criticized, causing me to glare sharply at her. She didn't back down as she said, “You could be going against a Hungarian Horntail, and you'll only get yourself hurt because you haven't practiced.”

I frowned at the girl, but I understood her point. I stared for a long moment before sitting back in my seat. “Why are you so concerned about me?”

“Because you're not bad,” she said, “Just rough around the edges.”

I blinked a few times, my brain slowly processing the fact that she had no idea what I was like despite spending half a summer with me.

“Work on some kind of way to defeat a dragon,” she demanded before grabbing her two friends and pulling them over to where Diggory and a few of his more loyal housemates sat.

I pondered her words for a moment before deciding that I'd simply have to research how to properly deal with an aggressive animal in my increasingly little spare time. I then caught my newspaper and opened it to check my stocks as usual.

Pucey, who couldn't mind his own business if his life depended on it, immediately came stalking over from the entrance of the hall. “What was that about?”

“Granger had the audacity to convince herself that I was ‘just rough around the edges’,” I said before scoffing loudly.

“Does this have anything to do with the first task?” Pucey prodded.

“They think I'm not preparing myself for whatever could happen,” I said.

“They're not wrong,” Pucey weighed in.

I gave him an annoyed look before lifting my newspaper up once more.

“I haven't seen you try to practice any seventh-year spells,” Pucey said.

“I’ve mastered most of them already,” I said with disinterest, “Besides, I doubt that I could use a simple Charm to best whatever I have to face.”

“Then, make a spell,” he suggested.

I paused before looking at Pucey with a raised brow. “You realize trying to make my own spell as a fourth year is illegal, yes?”

“Oh, so is crushing the knee of man with Dark magic, but you still got off in your second year,” Pucey sassed.

“That was accidental,” I pointed out.

“Pretend your new spell was accidental,” he said as if such a thing should have been obvious.

“I'll tell you what,” I said as I set my newspaper down, “You leave me alone until the end of the first task, and I won't use Legilimency on you for the rest of the school year.”

“Deal,” Pucey agreed right away before moving down the table to finally go bother some other poor soul.

I lifted my newspaper back up, and I lazily looked over my stocks. I then nodded, ate a small breakfast, and went off to my classes for the day. As the day passed, I found myself getting more and more curious about how one would make their own spell. I dug out my book on spell etymology and flipped through the pages, only to find that making one’s own spell was significantly easier said than done. For the time being, I settled on learning more advanced spells from the ancient grimoire.

The days passed by, and people seemed eager for the first trial in the Triwizard Tournament.

I felt completely unfazed as I went about the motions of doing well in class.

Krum and the rest of the champions were constantly in the library, disturbing the peace. Their little fanclubs were noisy, especially the girls asking Krum for an autograph.

I merely tried to keep my head down as I worked on my essays and occasionally gave Occlumency lessons to the fourth-year Slytherins.

“You know,” Nott said one night after having managed to make a pretty good attempt at keeping me out, “You could probably cripple an army if you wanted to.”

“Maybe,” I said as I decided that that night's teaching session was over. “I don't see the point of labeling myself as that kind of danger, though.”

“Why not? Having that power means you could protect yourself,” Parkinson said in a surprisingly childish manner.

I sighed heavily at that. “Yes, but what if I wish to protect others beyond myself?”

She blinked dumbly. “You do that?”

“I'm a human,” I said, “Of course there are people I favor and wish to protect.”

She flushed a bit before asking, “Like who?”

“You don't get the privilege of learning that until you've managed to begin learning Legilimency,” I said, giving a decent end goal for not only her, but also the other fourth years listening in.

A few glances were thrown around before determination seemed to fill the eyes of a few of them.

I internally cackled at how they would undoubtedly work harder to achieve that goal than they had been previously trying. I was such a good teacher.

“What’s the real reason you don't want to cripple an army?” Zabini prodded.

I blinked once before admitting, “I told the truth the first time. I can't protect those I hold dear if I’m thrown into Azkaban for being some kind of Dark Lord.”

Zabini looked a bit surprised, but he didn't dare open his mouth to say that he felt that way.

“Lessons are over for the night,” I said as I decided it would be wise to turn my attention toward my grimoire once more.

The others begrudgingly nodded and dispersed, knowing that they didn't have a chance at holding my attention when against my ancient book.

I stayed bent over it for a while, casually flipping through different pages before realizing that the book was never finished. I paused, blinking stupidly at the blank pages that resided about three-quarters of the way through the grimoire. I then hesitated before flipping through the rest of the book, only for a small note to appear on the very back, written in incredibly shaky handwriting.

‘Dear Colton,

You may be wondering why I got you an unfinished book. Think of it as a pet project (I heard from Harry that you always like having one.) You now have the space to work out some spell etymology in your free time, should you choose to do so. I would suggest it, as that's how I easily became an Auror – with the help of my naturally good talents, that is.

Best Regards,

Uncle Sirius’

I rolled my eyes at the note, but figured that it wouldn't hurt to go searching up spell etymology during my free time, especially considering that would help with my wordless and wandless magic. Furthermore, I figured that I could always use the help in mastering my spells, which I would desperately need to do if I were to come out of the tasks unscathed. I flipped back to the last spell noted, and I decided that I could potentially make my own spell and write down the spell etymology in that book if I so desired.

It was then that “Lights out” was called, and everyone shuffled to their beds.

As I laid in my bed, I figured that I could do some research into different wand movements and how they factored into creating spells. With that, I drifted off to sleep.