No more lies (To Victory)

CHAPTER 2

••°°••

Harry was so happy it was ridiculous.

He got rid of those two pests he had to call friends. 

Students gave him a wide berth, except for the slytherins, who were watching him all the time.

He was on top of all of his classes and even talked McGonagall into letting him change Divination and COMC into Arithmancy and Ancient Runes.

It wasn’t easy.

First, he went to both of the professors’ and requested them to switch, where he was told no initially, but Harry refused to be denied and demanded they test him on his knowledge of the subject.

He surpassed his peers and he knew it.

He’s been studying both subjects since first year, although he really got into it only after Tom demanded for him to learn. Both were incredibly useful, especially in warding.

They were confusing at first, but Harry got the hang of it in no time with quite an excellent tutelage from Tom.

Professors Vector and Babbling were absolutely gobsmacked with his results and said he was way above the level of 4th year and in this case, he could change his electives, which Harry very gladly did.

Professor McGonagall was against this at first.

At first.

When Harry proclaimed that the rules of Hogwarts state that he could change the electives if he so wished, for as long as he was capable of performing well in classes - which he was - McGonagall agreed, if a bit reluctantly.

She was one for the rules, after all.

Dumbledore was a different story.

He threw a hissy fit worthy of a toddler when he found out.

Good thing it didn’t need the approval of the headmaster, only the head of the house, but Harry was called to his office nonetheless.

That was fun, actually.

He received the note from Snape - perhaps a way for Dumbledore to ensure Harry would actually show up and a useless intimidation tactic, but instead, he asked the professor to be present as well, which shocked Snape and amused him.

It was entertaining to see the usually stoic professor so confused about him. Harry knew Snape wanted answers and not getting them was frustrating the man to no end, if recent stalking was any indication.

What could he say? Harry liked to play with his food.

“My boy, come in. Lemon drop?” Dumbledore asked, looking at him a bit wearily, but still had enough sense to put his grandfatherly mask on and smile at him. Ew. 

Bloody old goat.

Harry didn’t want his potion-laced lemon drops.

Minerva was present as well, with professors Vector and Babbling.

“No, thank you.”

Dumbledore looked at everyone present, eyes straying to Snape: “Severus, you can leave.”

“Mr Potter asked me to stay, so I will,” Snape answered curtly. He wanted some answers too, damnit.

That caused a ripple of surprise among other professors.

Harry Potter asking the one professor that he didn’t get along with to stay? 

Dumbledore looked unhappy.

Portraits intrigued. 

“Well, Minerva informed me that you decided to drop the Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, choosing Arithmancy and Ancient Runes instead?” Harry nodded. “I'm afraid I can’t let you do that, my boy. Those electives are very important and you’re simply too far behind.”

Harry snorted, raising an eyebrow in a very Tom-like fashion.

“I’m afraid that is not your decision, headmaster,” Harry spoke up coldly. The professors were slightly taken aback by it; they have never heard him use such a tone before, especially with the headmaster. “Hogwarts rules state that any student may change electives as long as they can perform in class well.”

“However-”

“There is no however, headmaster. Professors Vector and Babbling already agreed and tested me, professor McGonagall already approved the change. I’m not sure what else do you want.”

Snape had to give it to the boy - he knew what to say to get what he wanted and to rile the old coot up.

It was, however, surprising to hear.

As far as he knew, Potter agreed to every whim of the headmaster. And judging by the speed the boy tended to break school rules, Severus wasn't sure he knew they existed at all.

“Yes, in fact, he’s far ahead of his peers, Albus. If given, I’m sure Mr Potter could pass OWL’s with minimum of EE,” Vector spoke proudly.

Snape perked up at this. 

How was Potter so good?

Especially without taking the subject previously?

Yet another thing to investigate, it seems.

“Like I said, Albus, I already approved and Harry has a schedule already.” Minerva looked annoyed. She clearly didn’t approve of Albus' meddling and wasting her time.

Dumbledore, seeing he will get nowhere, tried another approach.

“Harry, my boy, but how would Hagrid feel if you stopped attending his classes? You are his favorite student, he’d be thoroughly disappointed. Ever think of that? And divination is very important.”

Harry narrowed his eyes.

What was the old coot playing at?

Guiltily him won't work; he couldn't care less how Hagrid would feel, but why was Dumbledore so insistent on divination?

It would make sense if he had the Sight, but he doesn't. 

“I simply don’t care, headmaster. As far as I’m concerned, this is a waste of everyone's time and your interferences won’t change it any bit.”

Albus' eyes hardened.

“You will do as I say, Harry. I’m your magical guardian and I-”

Harry outright laughed, the coldness of it making hairs on the back of professors’ necks stand up.

Snape suddenly had a flashback of someone else laughing exactly like this just before throwing a crucio .

“You forced me to compete in this absurd tournament, headmaster, and thus, because of the age-line and all participants having to be of age, I was immediately declared emancipated. Therefore, you’re no longer my magical guardian and let’s face it, I could have you thrown in Azkaban for neglecting your duties for being one.” Harry’s eyes bore into a slightly pale wizard and his smirk turned malicious. He's had it with this bastard manipulating and trying to order him around. “Let’s not forget that not only did you not tell me anything about my heritage, you deliberately hid everything about the magical world from me, including my heirships and family heirlooms, and not once did you tell me about being my magical guardian. I found out about that by a complete accident when Gringotts sent me a letter of my emancipation. Funny how that goes, doesn’t it, headmaster?”

The man’s face was completely devoid of colour.

The portraits were shouting angrily in the background.

Snape watched how Potter stalked over to Albus’ table like a predator getting ready to strike.

He’s never seen such a malicious and mocking look on a teenager's face before and it honestly terrified him. Snape wondered how his colleagues were reacting to this, but he didn’t dare look in fear he’d miss something.

He was finally getting some answers, even if they left him even more confused.

“If you dare to meddle with my choices again, headmaster, I’ll make sure to press charges of your neglect .” Harry said it so quietly, that Snape was sure he was the only one apart from the old coot that heard the threat.

What did the boy mean?

Once Harry received a nod from the old bastard, he turned around and left without another word, leaving them all stunned.

Albus sighed, and motioned for them all to leave.

Nobody dared to question him.

Snape was sure the other three would be obliviated by tomorrow.

“What did he mean, Albus?” Snape asked. 

“I’m afraid young Harry is somehow blaming me for being forced into participating. He’s under a lot of stress and is lashing out. He’s a teenage boy, Severus. I’m sure he’ll come around and apologize once he realizes we are here for him and he makes up with his friends. He will make the right choices, he just needs someone to show him where he's wrong."

Snape almost snorted at the absurdity of the explanation.

He’s never seen Potter more stress free than now, but he agreed nonetheless, not wanting to irk Albus even more. Merlin knows what he’d do.

But he did need to find Potter and get answers.

Dumbledore was pissed.

How dare the brat do this?

How dare he talk to him, great Albus Dumbledore like this?!

How will he introduce the prophecy to the boy if he doesn’t care for divination? And who’s fault was that? Perhaps Miss Granger dropping the subject last year deterred the boy? Or was it constant premonitions of his own death?

He’ll have to remedy this.

The boy must follow the prophecy and defeat Voldemort!

And the worst part, the boy didn’t seem depressed at all! He lost his friends, Albus made sure Black wasn’t messaging him - he should be lonely and sulking, asking for forgiveness! And instead? Instead the brat decided to defy him!

No matter.

If Ronald and Hermione won’t be able to bring him back into the fold, there is always Ginevra. That girl is still obsessed with Potter, she’ll be easy to guide.

And long term, he’ll get the Dursleys to up the abuse in the summer. Potter needs to learn his place. He will, with time.

And once Voldemort returns… Harry will only have him to turn to.

Yes… he will come out on top, like always.

Perhaps a slight compulsion potion to ease along the way.

Harry was slightly fuming.

That barmy old coot tried to hinder his choices again.

He could admit he stepped a bit too far, threatening the bastard, but Harry was just so bloody mad.

Dumbledore should be lucky he hasn’t been fed to the basilisk yet. That would be fun to watch.

Tom will most likely be pissed at him for drawing too much attention from Dumbledore, but it was a tad bit too late now.

He will have to check his food and drinks, nothing new there, and probably watch for who else Dumbles will send his way, but he was still relatively safe.

The part about pressing charges now was a complete bull.

Harry will do it once the goblins have enough dirt on the old coot to bury him deep under the ground, and it won’t happen until the time is right. He still had a role to play.

Fuck, he revealed his cards a bit too soon. So much for not snapping.

Harry quickly went down to the second floor bathroom and hissed open , once he was sure Myrtle wasn't there.

“ Stairs .”

He didn't feel like sliding. Harry felt like angrily stomping down the stairs.

He walked down deeper into the chamber, into the hidden room behind Salazar’s statue where he knew Tom would be waiting.

The second his hand touched the notebook - ehem, diary, that Tom vehemently insisted it was not - Tom appeared, looking him over with a critical eye.

“Something happened,” he exclaimed. “You’re angry.”

Harry inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself as best as he could.

“Well, Dumbles tried to force me to not change my electives, bringing up just how much it would hurt Hagrid and he was strangely insistent on divination. He damn well knows I don’t have the gift, so he either wants me to waste my time or is hiding something. Or he’s enjoying the amount of weekly death threats I receive,” Harry blurred out quickly, frowning even more.

“Yes, he must be hiding something, although your death premonitions are kind of amusing- don’t glare at me, it’s fun making up the ways you’re going to die. Didn’t you write in that dream diary that a crystal ball cracked your skull open during a lesson? Or, what was it, Trelawney drowning you in tea cups? Please, you enjoy her reactions.”

That brought a reluctant smile on Harry’s face. Tom was right, of course, and the smug bastard knew it. He was the one to suggest quite a few scenarios and then cackled at Harry’s expense.

“Perhaps so, but it’s still a waste of time.”

“I agree.”

“However, his insistence is weird. He even tried to use the guardian card, and I may have… lost it a bit there.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed.

“Lost it how, exactly?”

“Well… I told him he had no right and may have even threatened to press charges for neglecting his duties as my magical guardian, which are true, but I didn't want him to know I'm aware just yet.”

Tom’s face was unreadable.

“His face went so white when I started mentioning a few things he failed to do, it was hilarious. But… I have no idea how he’ll react to this. He may try something drastic, he may wait for this to play out. I have no idea.”

“This is troubling…” Tom started pacing. “You can’t change what you did, but you can use this to your own advantage. Surely Dumbledore will try something to get back to your good graces, suggest that your heirships are a waste of time and he didn’t want to burden you or such other nonsense, now that he’s aware of your knowledge. He needs his golden boy to do the dirty work after all. He’ll probably call you in to talk once he thinks you calmed down.”

Harry sighed deeply, cursing his life once more. Why is he the one getting the burnt of senile megalomaniac attention?

“That’s what I’m afraid of. If I don’t agree to dance to his tune again, he might try using potions and such. If he does, I’ll just send the evidence to goblins; they’ll be delighted to receive even more dirt on the old coot, but it still doesn’t change the fact that Dumbledore knows he’s not in control of me... not like before.”

“Well, I’m sure he got that loud and clear since you dropped that mudblood and blood traitor and are acting like yourself, dear,” Tom’s eyes were glinting in delight. He's been waiting for this moment to come. “No more hiding now, Harry. They will soon realize your power and that you are not one to be messed with. That you are above them. That you are not one to be controlled by anyone.”

Harry blushed slightly at the intense way Tom was staring at him. With so much conviction and glee.

“You do realize he still might do something, right?”

“You said it yourself; with so many foreigners and Ministry officials in Hogwarts, he won’t be so reckless. A lot of people will be looking at him for letting an underage wizard compete already. Which brings me to another point, have you made any alliances yet?”

Harry pursed his lips.

“Slytherins won’t leave me alone.”

Tom snorted. “They sense your power and are drawn to you like moths to a flame.”

“Perhaps, but it’s becoming annoying. They’re always staring. Always! At least one of them sits with me during lessons, not so subtly trying to get some information or gain my favor. And you should see how panicked they become when I use one of the secret passageways to disappear.”

“I’m sure a round of crucio will teach them to behave,” Tom said offhandedly.

Harry glared. “They’re not my minions, Tom, and I'm not Voldemort.”

“They might as well be. You told me yourself, they raised their wands in order to protect you. Tut-tut, Harry. Very soon you’ll have your own minions, as you call them, to order around.”

Harry’s glare intensified. Tom looked way too smug in his humble opinion.

“Better them than Weasley and Granger,” Harry muttered darkly. 

Tom hummed in agreement, but didn’t breach the subject of those two any further.

“However, you have an excellent chance to gain alliances from foreign wizards. Dursmtrang students are taught Dark Arts and it would be beneficial for you to make foreign connections.”

“And Karkaroff?” Harry asked, already expecting a furious response.

“He shall die in the most painful way possible. He betrayed his Lord. I’m sure Voldemort will remove all of his limbs and scatter them all over the continent once he has a chance.”

“You don’t want to do it yourself?” Harry was a bit surprised. So far, even if this was the young version of the Dark Lord, Tom reacted to any slight committed against Voldemort as a slight against himself. He was sure Karkaroff will be the first traitor to go.

“I wouldn’t be against it, Harry, you know this, but it would draw too much suspicion at this moment.”

“He seemed to dislike me. Although he’s been avoiding me altogether since my name came out of the goblet. You think..?”

Tom was quiet for a moment.

“I don’t know what kind of man he is, but he’s a traitor. He knows if Voldemort comes back, he’ll be killed. No, someone loyal entered your name. My followers showing up during summer and your situation are not coincidental - Voldemort is certainly involved. I’m just not sure how. A test, maybe?” There was a pause. “Don’t fret, Harry. We will find out one way or another. I’m sure we can come up with an interesting way to punish them for - what was it? Ruining your one peaceful year?”

Harry snorted.

Yes, he hoped this would be one year without something happening to him, but it was too much to ask, was it?

“No, fates are too entertained at my disposal to just leave me be.”

Tom hummed.

He seemed to be entertained too, the annoying prat.

“So. Did you find anything out about the first task or were you too preoccupied glaring at everyone who dared to cross your path?”

Harry sighed. 

“Not yet. There is a wand weighing ceremony happening tomorrow - don’t ask, I have no idea. I’ll see if my spies have any information then.”

Tom didn’t look happy. “You are at a disadvantage, being the youngest. You need to find out-”

“Merlin, Tom, I know!” Harry cut him off and started pacing. “And you’ve been tutoring me for a few years now. I’m hardly at a disadvantage, unless you are doubting your skills?”

Riddle shot him a murderous glare. “My tutelage has been excellent, Potter. You’ve had an honor to be taught by the Dark Lord himself-”

“Alright, alright! I’ve heard a thousand times of how great and powerful you are, oh future Dark Lord, there’s no need to boast about your skills. I get it. You’re brilliant at everything you do.”

“Good. Which means we’ll be venturing further in your studies and I expect you to delve even deeper into learning curses and any protective and healing spells we can muster, seeing as you’ll be needing them more than ever. Unfortunately, during the tournament you’ll have to stick to only legal spells - unless you’re in danger, of course. I expect you to protect yourself by any means necessary if danger arises.”

Harry nodded. Tom’s always been insistent he uses whatever means necessary to keep himself safe. 

Even if it means killing someone outright.

“For now, I think it would be to your advantage to practice parsel spells. They are more powerful and no one can counteract them.”

“I know, I know. And I can now access the Restricted Section without having to dismantle the wards.”

“There is nothing in there that I don’t already know-”

“You’re not all knowing, Tom!” Harry cut the other wizard off, who seemed to take that as an insult. “You are not! Don’t even glare at me. Sure, you’re a genius and know shitton of stuff, but you are sixteen. Your magical knowledge stops there and you can’t just venture out on your own to learn stuff either. Right now we’re pretty evenly matched.”

Tom’s eyes twitched. He seemed tense, but after a moment of consideration, relaxed.

“Perhaps, Harry. You’re still awfully lacking in arithmancy and need to do better in history though.”

“History is a joke. For all I care you can just consume Binns- wait, can you do that?”

Tom seemed equally shocked at Harry’s question.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I suppose it’s possible on some level - ghosts are souls, echoes, but they don’t have lifeforce or magic. It probably wouldn’t work. But what you can do is contact the Board of Governors and file a complaint. Perhaps even exorcise him - it’s not that difficult, people just think it’s barbaric to force ghosts to leave.”

Harry was confused. “Why?”

“Nobody knows what happens after. It’s viewed as a form of killing sometimes. Nevermind that, Harry. It’s getting late and you should get back before you’re missed.”

“Nobody’s gonna miss me there,” Harry grumbled. He’d much rather stay here than go back to Gryffindor tower. They were loud and obnoxious, and half were cross with him for being the fourth champion. He’s been spending time in the tower only to sleep and sometimes didn’t even do that - the Chamber had a bedroom.

“Perhaps not, but appearances must be kept. Especially now that you dropped that pathetic gryffindor act.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smirk, his reluctance to leave easing. 

He liked spending time with Tom. But he liked terrorising others by being himself even more.

“Fine. I’ll go. I’ll come back tomorrow when i can slip away.”

Harry was certain of one thing - Severus Snape was after him.

The man not so subtly stared at him from the moment he entered the Great Hall for breakfast and until Harry very swiftly left after Snape stood up from his chair.

Hm, seems the Potions Master has had enough and wanted answers directly from Harry.

Thank Merlin the Wand Weighing ceremony was during Potions. He can play this cat and mouse game a bit longer.

Which brings Harry to this ridiculous ceremony.

When he entered the classroom the ceremony was taking place, he noticed Cedric was still missing and there were quite a few people there.

“Mister Potter!” a man practically ran towards him, smiling like a complete idiot. “Wonderful to see you here. I am Ludo Bagman, Head of the Magical Games and Sports department. I was one of the great wizards to organize this special event!” 

Harry shook the wizard's hand a tad too tightly and gave him a smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir. It’s always good to put faces to names of people responsible for forcing me to participate in this ludicrous tournament.”

The man’s smile dropped and eyes widened. He struggled to get his hand back from Harry, who made sure to skim through the man’s surface thoughts.

It was pathetic.

All the man could think about was how much money he’s going to make and that he could earn a lot of gold on pretense of helping Harry.

That put him directly into Harry’s shit list.

Bagman excused himself immediately and went to speak with Dumbledore, who seemed to be joyous. 

Meddling bastard.

Harry took a moment to observe everyone in the room.

Delacour was chatting with Madam Maxime, looking very well put together. Krum was standing next to Karkaroff, who looked irked to even be there and kept shooting Harry dirty looks. 

Bloody traitor.

His days were numbered.

Then there was Olivander, chuckling at whatever it is Dumbledore was saying, Bartemius Crouch Sr - a head of some other department in the Ministry. Harry didn’t care all that much, per say, except that at times the man looked way too skittish.

He was hiding something.

Harry was sure of that.

And then...

“Harry Potter? My my, look at you!” a woman dressed in an almost neon green suit, followed by a photographer, thrust herself in front of Harry, looking eager. “The youngest champion!”

Harry forced his face into a polite smile.

“I am. And who might you be, Miss..?”

“Oh, such a charm!” the witch giggled. “I’m Rita Skeeter, a reporter of the Daily Prophet.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Skeeter.” Harry bowed his head slightly, gifting her a charming smile. “I’ve read quite a few of your stories. They are delightful.”

The witch seemed pleased by that.

Recently she’s been portraying Dumbledore as a peacock because of his choice of clothes and insinuating it as Dumbledore having an almost fetish of exotic birds - it was complete and utter nonsense, but it brightened Harry's day just a bit.

The door opened again, this time Diggory rushing in, looking slightly ruffled.

“Ah, and the last champion is here!” Crouch Sr shouted. “Champions, please step forward. The ceremony will begin.”

Harry stood up next to Krum, subtly trying to sense what kind of magic the wizard reeks of.

“Mr Olivander here is the Britain's Wand Master and he will be examining your wands. They are the most important thing you will use during this tournament and we must make sure your wands are working properly,” Dumbledore explained.

“Yes, yes. Shall we begin?” Olivander asked, receiving a nod from the Ministry official’s. “Ladies first. Miss Delacour?” He waited until the witch handed him her wand. Olivander examined it closely. “Nine and a half inches, rosewood and… ah, unusual, unusual. I’ve never used Veela hair before - I find them way too temperamental.” Ollivander looked unhappy, but flicked the wand and summoned a bouquet of flowers, giving them to Fleur.

“The veela hair was my grand-mère.”

“Your grandmother’s? I suppose it works better for you then, having a blood connection…” he handed back the wand, announcing it has no issues.

Krum was reluctant to give his wand.

“Ah, Gregorovitch' work,” Olivander seemed unhappy with all the wands that weren’t made by him, apparently. “Ten and a quarter inches, hornbeam wood, a... dragon heartstring core, works well will transfiguration?” Krum nodded. “A bit too thick for my liking and seems quite rigid,” Olivander said and summoned a flock of birds, ignoring Krum’s insulted look, gave the wand back and called for Diggory.

The wizard seemed to brighten.

“One of my own, I see. Twelve and a quarter inches, ash and unicorn hair… looks taken care of. Still works well?”

“As always,” Diggory nodded, accepting the wand after the wandmaster found no issue.

“And… Harry Potter.”

Harry felt eyes on him immediately, as he stepped forward and handed his wand.

It felt wrong just giving it to someone, whether they meant harm or not.

“Eleven inches, holly and phoenix hair. One of the most powerful wands I’ve ever sold.”

Harry’s eyes twitched.

Could the man just not shut up and call even more attention to him? He didn’t want Dumbledore to question his power and then try to bind it or something, if he saw Harry as a threat.

Olivander flicked his wand, summoning a rabbit and banishing it.

“Works perfectly,” he announced, and Harry’s fingers itched to grab the wand. “I still expect great things from you, Harry Potter,” the wizard handed Harry the wand, but his eyes never left Harry, seemingly scanning his soul. Harry forced himself not to squirm - he was bloody uncomfortable.

“Pictures now! Pictures!” Skeeter shouted from behind them, the photographer trailing behind. It seemed to snap everyone from their thoughts.

“Very well,” Dumbledore said, moving aside to speak with Madame Maxime.

Harry wasn’t happy.

He was forced to sit down in the throne-like chair with other champions around him, while the photographer named Bozo snapped picture after picture.

However, just because he didn’t like it, he had no intention of looking like a scared little kid.

Harry straightened his posture, crossing his legs and leaning back slightly to show his nonchalance and that he was in no way intimidated by being the youngest.

Harry made sure to stare directly into camera, his expression relaxed and a small smirk on his face that just screamed superiority , except for his eyes -  they were cold yet amused. Especially after the photographer failed to make any of them smile - save for Diggory.

The boy was grinning like a loon.

Tom was right about one thing - the way you are perceived by others matters. A lot.

And it seems that this is the year he will be exposed to the whole world and Harry had no intention of looking like a lost duckling. 

No, he will show everyone that not only he is not scared, but that he is capable. That he is powerful.

“And now, interviews!” Rita screeched after taking the last portrait of Diggory and her eyes zeroed in on Harry. “Mr Potter. You first. Come with me.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed as the witch almost dragged him to a small room that was practically a broom closet.

He went to test her aura.

“Now, Mr Potter. You are the youngest champion. Why did you enter despite the age line?”

“I did not, Miss Skeeter. I had a full intention of having a peaceful year. However, someone - either maliciously or as a prank - entered my name and the Goblet seemed to think I was worthy to participate. I had no choice on the matter.”

Skeeter seemed confused and shocked.

That’s not the answer she was expecting.

“You- you didn’t?”

“No. I have enough money and fame already - I have no need for more. Especially not by participating in a dangerous tournament with older opponents.”

“Hm, that seems plausible, Mr Potter. Surprising, yes, but plausible. Hm...” she watched him critically, as if looking for something she could latch onto. “You seem confident, Mr Potter. Aren’t you worried you’re outmatched?”

Harry almost snorted. He? Outmatched?

Cedric wasn’t weak by any means, but he was average. He had no idea about the abilities of others, but he was certain neither of them were as capable as he was.

After all, they weren't the ones being tutored personally by a young Dark Lord with a need of perfection at all times.

Harry just raised an eyebrow in a very Tom-like fashion and smirked.

“Of course not, Miss Skeeter. I am confident in my abilities, and so was the Goblet, it seems. Of course, I am taking more time to study and prepare, but it doesn’t make me… inferior.”

“Your parents would’ve been so proud of you, I’m sure. What do you think?”

Was this the angle she was taking? Trying to make him emotional? Have an outburst by mentioning his parents?

“I wouldn’t know, Miss Skeeter, seeing as they are dead and I never knew them.”

The quill started scratching something so quickly that it brought Harry’s attention to it.

He narrowed his eyes as he read a few lines.

-Potter seems overconfident, trying to hide his crippling terror behind a mask-

-eyes shining with tears as he mentions the parents he never had-

-lying about not-

Skeeter pulled the parchment away from Harry's line of sight. 

Alright, that’s it.

His eyes narrowed, losing the friendly mask of politeness he's been wearing this whole time.

“Lying about what I’m telling you, Miss Skeeter? Tut-tut. Not very nice.”

Skeeter smiled at him.

“Nonsense, Mr Potter. My quill writes down everything you say and don’t say.”

“You know, slandering a minor in papers, an heir to a Noble and Ancient house no less, could render you jobless these days.”

“Is that a threat?!” She screeched, her smile no longer welcoming and dripping with fake sweetness.

Ah, there's the real Rita Skeeter.

“Of course not, Miss Skeeter. But know this: if what is in that paper - those lies, is printed out anywhere, there won’t be any place on this earth I won't find you. In fact-” he held out his hand and flicked his wrist towards that bloody quill and parchment, both bursting into flames immediately. Skeeter jumped back, eyes wide with fear and then shock at Harry's wandless magic. “Here. No more temptation.”

Harry gave her an absolutely sweet smile, as if he hadn’t threatened her just seconds ago.

“You- you burned my quill!”

Harry shrugged.

“Shouldn’t have tried to make a tragic story about me, Miss Skeeter. Oh, another thing-” this time Harry pulled out his wand, ignoring the witch flinching as he started hissing.

He put a secrecy ward around the witch, that would make her feel burning pain in her hands if she tries to write down lies or anything Harry doesn’t approve about him. One of his and Tom’s inventions.

“What did you do!?”

The witch seemed stuck between running and getting ready to attack him.

Harry’s smile turned bloodthirsty and the witch blanched.

“I don’t think I’ll tell you. I’m sure you’ll find out soon, however, it would be in your best interest not to do anything against me. You may write about me participating in the tournament and what I told you, but that is it. None of your made up lies. If you want a juicy story, try Dumbledore. He has more things to hide than anyone in this entire castle.”

The journalist's eyes started glinting in interest, despite Harry’s threats.

“Dumbledore, you say? There’s hardly anything-”

“Well, then you’re not doing your job. Try his brother, maybe”

“Brother?”

Harry frowned.

He knew for a fact the old coot had a brother and that Dumbledore was trying to hide his past, but did she really not know of his last living relative?

“Yes. Aberforth. He’s the owner of the Hog’s Head.”

“How delightful! I’m sure I’ll-”

The door suddenly burst open and Dumbledore walked in.

“Sorry to interrupt your… interview, but you’ve been in here for quite a long time. I’m sure you'd like to speak with other champions as well, Miss Skeeter?”

“Of course, of course. Perhaps with you as well, Albus?”

He seemed surprised by it, but nodded.

Skeeter went for Fleur Delacour next, pulling out a normal quill this time.

“Sorry for that, my boy. Miss Skeeter can be a tad… enthusiastic.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Harry grumbled neutrally and opened the door to leave, having no intention of speaking with the headmaster.

“Harry, I-”

“Potter! What are you doing here during lessons!” Moody shouted at him from the hallway, his magical eye darting behind him.

“Alastor, Harry was just in the Wand Weighing ceremony. He was permitted to skip the class.”

Moody grumbled.

“Whatever. What is that Death Eater doing here?”

Harry raised a brow, smirking when he saw Karkaroff looking at Moody wearily.

“Not here, Alastor. How about you take Harry back to his dormitories?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course you don’t want him hanging around Death Eaters. Come with me, Potter.”

Harry wanted to curse.

Firstly, because he didn’t need nor want to go back to his dormitories just because Dumbledore said so and secondly because he had his little spies to talk to.

Harry followed Moody to his office, looking around many, many weird objects that he was sure was a sign of insanity.

“Yes, yes, Moody has too many objects in his office and is a paranoid bastard. Heard that before,” the wizard grumbled before Harry could even open his mouth.

“Speaking in third person, sir?”

Moody very subtly flinched at that, but Harry noticed.

Hm, interesting.

“Are you prepared for the task, Potter?”

“Why such interest, professor?”

“You are the youngest champion, Potter, and are at a disadvantage. The other champions will cheat any way they can. You think Karkaroff or Maxime will let their champions go in blind? Oh no. Albus may think they are above it, but they are not .”

“So you are helping Diggory as well?”

Silence.

Ah. Moody was only going to help him. Why?

Dumbledore may have washed his hands off of both of them, but why did Moody care?

There was a sudden hissing near the door, and Moody jumped, his wand in hand, pointing at the place the sound was coming from, curse on his lips.

“Do not!” Harry shouted and erected a ward to block Moody’s spell.

Seriously, the man was casting curses without knowing what he was aiming at. Paranoid much?

“Potter! What is the meaning of this!”

Harry glared at the professor, walking closer to where he knew one of his snakes were coming from.

“That is my snake. I will not allow you to harm it.”

“Your snake? ”

Harry knelt down and let the snake slither up his arm.

“Master, I found out what you asked me of. There are dragons being held in the woods. I heard the guards speaking of the task, how insane it was.”

“Dragons, huh?”

“Yesss. Nesting mothers, Master.”

“Why would they bring nesting mothers? Are they insane?!”

“I don’t know, master.”

“P-Potter,” the stutter caught Harry off guard and he turned to see wide eyed, almost gaping ex-Auror staring at him. “You can speak to snakes?”

Harry raised his eyebrows, feigning confusion.

“Yes? I thought everyone knew that.”

“No, Potter, everyone does not know that.”

“Weird. It got out in my second year. The whole school knew.”

Moody seemed undecided between shock and suspicion.

“It’s a very dark ability, Potter. You should be careful and not demonstrate it.”

Harry snorted in disbelief. “Dark ability? It’s a gift, professor, and I will not treat it as some sort of taboo or disease just because people are prejudiced.”

Moody looked to be fighting some sort of internal battle, but in Harry’s opinion, he just looked constipated.

“The Dark Lord can speak to snakes,” he said bluntly.

“I’m aware. Good for him.” Then Harry smirked. They basically had a secret language.

“The wizard smells wrong, Master.”

Harry frowned, eyes shooting to Moody for a second.

“Wrong how?”

“I don’t know. But there is someone else in the room, but their smell is faint.”

Now Harry was certainly confused and even more suspicious.

“What is your snake saying, Potter?”

Harry decided to test the waters.

“I don’t think I’ll tell you. After all, you wouldn’t want to be associated with such a dark gift and all, professor.”

“Cheeky brat,” Moody grumbled, but was still looking at the snake uneasily. “Fine, Potter. Let’s talk about what you will do about the task. You evaded my question.”

“That is because you evaded mine. Why aren’t you helping Diggory?”

“By Merlin, Potter, be grateful I’m helping you!”

“So far you haven’t helped at all and I don’t recall asking for charity.”

Moody stared, but Harry swore he saw a hint of pride in his eyes? Then smirked.

“You speak like a slytherin, Potter. Sure the hat got the right house?”

Harry chuckled.

“You’ll just have to see, won’t you, professor?”

Harry didn’t wait for an answer and left the office swify, leaving a very confused and calculating Moody behind.

He probably blabbered too much to the ex-Auror and a friend of Dumbledore’s to boot.

Eh. Whatever. According to Riddle he must be himself from now on and that was him.

He would’ve loved to leave his snake Loki to follow Moody, but the wizard’s magical eye spotted him immediately.

Harry didn’t like that.

He won’t be able to send him to spy on Moody. The wizard would instantly know.

But what else could the eye see?

What if he could see when Harry takes out the Diary, however rare it is? Or can it see his second wand? His magical aura? His rings?

Harry has things to hide, things that need to be kept secret.

And Moody does too, if his suspicious behavior is any indicator.

Why was Moody so insistent on helping? Because he's younger? It seemed like a pretense.

No, the man had an ulterior motive, Harry just had no idea what it was.

And another, much bigger problem - dragons.

How was he supposed to fight dragons ?

“You can always try speaking with them,” Tom shrugged when Harry went to see him almost immediately, grabbing a few sandwiches from the kitchens and heading downstairs. 

“Can they speak parseltongue?”

“I have no idea, although it’s supposedly possible. You could always go to the forest and try talking to them.”

“I suppose.”

“What is the task anyway?”

“Loki didn’t know, only that it involved nesting mothers. It’s like regular dragons aren’t bad enough, oh no, let’s bring furious, overprotective nesting mothers! Brilliant idea!”

Tom snorted, but looked thoughtful.

“There is a reason why they did that… they would be protecting their eggs, maybe… maybe the task has something to do with those. That’s the only difference between a regular dragon and a nesting one I can think of.”

“Yeah, but-” Harry felt his face suddenly paling and he almost dropped Tom’s diary. “Merlin, I think I know what the task is,” he looked at the boy, horror showing on his face. “They’d probably tell us to steal her eggs or something. Destroying them would be inexcusable. Why else would they bring them here? Holy shit, they want to kill us all.”

Tom looked concerned as well.

“Well, I'm glad I’m not the one that has to do it.”

“Hey!”

“What? I’d never willingly go against a nesting dragon, and certainly nowhere near her eggs. I’m not suicidal. Quite the opposite, as my notebook proves. We just have to find a way for you not to get burnt to death if the parseltongue trick doesn’t work.”

“Really reassuring, Tom.”

The boy smiled charmingly at him.

“I do try, dear. Now. Let’s get over all spells that would protect you from fire and you can charm your clothes. I suppose you wouldn’t want to carve runes into your skin, so, this will have to do for now. Have you been practicing any elementals? Fire should come easy to you.”

Harry’s face reddened. He hasn’t tried any since the summer, when he was stuck in his room, summoning small fireballs and playing around with them.

The charms he used to burn people’s things were similar, but not quite the same.

“Not really.”

Tom sighed, as if expecting this.

“Harry…”

“Oh, give me a break, Tom. All I do is practice and study, fighting off Merlin knows what or who every year, dealing with backstabbers of friends and Dumbledore’s manipulations! And now this bloody tournament! I can’t always be concentrated on work, I need a fucking break before I snap!”

“You don’t have time for breaks, Harry! You have one week until the first task, then you can rest for a day or two!”

“Easy for you to say, when you don’t have to do shit! You just sit here all day, while your counterpart does all the dirty work.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed.

“Watch what you’re saying.”

“Oh please, you had it easy. Have you had murderers and dementors and bloody fucking dragons after you while you were in school? No? Only Dumbledore was following you around, well boo-hoo-” Harry was cut off after Tom snarled and surged forward, pushing Harry violently against the wall.

Nothing irked Riddle more than that meddling old fool.

“You have no idea what I had to endure! Don’t you dare to presume to know just because you can’t handle a little pressure.”

“A little?” he scoffed. “Seems more than a little and there’s nothing wrong with needing a break. Then again, you don’t need a break from fucking anything!” Harry shouted back. “And please, do tell me what was so horrible for you at my age.”

“I lived through war, Harry. You think it’s fun being sent to muggle world every summer, not knowing if you’ll come back alive?”

Harry snorted. “You just described my summers. Somehow it doesn’t make me quiver in my boots.”

The mocking tone only seemed to make Riddle more furious.

He pressed his hand against Harry’s neck and squeezed .

“You seem to forget, Harry, that you are only here because I allowed you to be.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it,” Harry hissed back, trying to push back against Riddle, but the boy was simply stronger than him. “You are only here because of me too. You seem to forget what would’ve happened if we hadn’t made a deal, Riddle.”

“Well, then maybe I shouldn’t have made a deal with a whiny child who can’t deal with a little workload and should’ve taken what I wanted!”

Harry felt hurt and was about to spit something just as nasty back, when he noticed the insane glint in Tom’s eyes.

It didn’t happen often, only when Tom was truly angry or was pushed too far.

He’d lose all reason and lash out, do something stupid like accidentally killing Myrtle. Harry didn’t want that look directed at him, and he was sure Tom was about to do something stupid again.

“Yes, I don’t see why I should wait-” he continued on, not noticing Harry’s sudden frown, and then he did something Harry didn’t expect; Tom grabbed the link connecting the two of them, the one keeping Tom corporeal when Harry was donating him his magic and yanked .

Harry fell to his knees, an involuntary scream escaping his lips as his whole being was set on fire.

Agony ripped through him; it felt as if Harry couldn’t breathe. 

This was bad. Really bad. Riddle was out of control.

“Tom-”

Before Harry could bring him back from the edge of insanity, there was another yank and his body went numb. The next moment, Harry’s world faded into black.