A/N:

This little story is my first attempt at writing fanfiction. Helpful reviews and constructive criticism or just your thoughts on the fic in general are more than welcome.

I hope you enjoy the read! Btw chapters will get longer. From chapter 3 onwards all chapters will have about 5000/6000 words.

Facts:
Harry is not the BWL, Neville is. Harry will be dark. Harry is straight.
My story starts during the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Up to that point all major canon events happened to Neville instead of Harry. (Neville saved the Philosopher's Stone, Neville saved Ginny, Neville was in the Shrieking Shack, Neville competed in the Triwizard Tournament). However this doesn't mean that Neville did everything the exact same way Harry did, just that overall the outcome was the same.
Of course all important changes will be mentioned in the story anyway, just wanted to give you a quick heads up what to expect.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter One

The Third Task

With a sigh Harry Potter craned his neck in hopes of seeing some action happening down on the Quidditch Pitch. Again all he could make out though, was a maze with walls so high nobody could see what was happening inside – brilliant idea for an event with a few hundred spectators.

He slumped back down in his seat and resumed reading his potions text. Normally all students could relax after their final exams, but Harry had a very special relationship to the resident Potions master, who had managed to force one last extra essay on Harry.

"They probably died in there." Theo Nott, sitting next to him, yawned while stretching his limps.

Harry threw Theo a tiny smirk. "Mhm… Rumour has it Hagrid offered one of those fire blasting skrewts as an obstacle."

"I still can't believe the ministry allowed him to keep those alive." Draco Malfoy chimed in, turning around to look at them incredulously from his seat in the row below. "But figures. Who wouldn't want a cute manticore cross-breed…"

Harry grinned back. "Ah don't be jealous Malfoy. I'm sure your father'll buy you one if you ask nicely."

The sudden appearance of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore himself down on the field halted their conversation.

"Draco what's happening down there?" Pansy Parkinson whined. Her small size obviously frustrating her once again.

Harry, not one of the tallest boys himself, was secretly thankful she asked the question.

"Nothing much. Dumbledore and the other judges are discussing something. Maybe the skrewt really killed one of the champions."

The Slytherins snickered.

Nothing exciting happened down on the field and they soon returned to their quiet chatter. Harry packed away his book – it was too dark to read by now anyway – and stood up to make a trip to the bathroom.

On his way back, just as he started to climb up the stairs to his seat, a pained cry made him turn around. A short distance away from him Cedric Diggory and Neville Longbottom lay on the ground, the latter clutching the Trizward Cup. Both looked deathly pale, Longbottom bleeding from multiple wounds, his left leg standing away in an odd angle.

All the judges looked at the boys in shock. Clearly that entrance didn't go as planned.

Harry watched Dumbledore practically run to the Boy-Who-Lived's side. Who would have thought the old man could still move so fast? As soon said boy spotted the headmaster he started to talk rapidly. Harry could only make out short phrases.

"Cedric… dead…"

"Portkeye."

"Voldemort… Voldemort back!"

Harry automatically took a step back. Longbottom couldn't be serious. The Dark Lord was dead. Had been for more than ten years. One couldn't simply return from the dead, death was final. Maybe something in the maze had messed with his brain?

Harry's gaze wandered to the headmaster and to his surprise the old man seemed to take the boy's claims serious. He rested a calming hand on Neville's shoulder and listened to his story with a grave expression. Whenever his eyes strayed in Diggory's direction they blazed with a fury Harry had not thought the kind man capable of. Did that mean Diggory was really dead?

Harry strained his ears to make out more of the quiet conversation, if it turned out that Longbottom was really telling the truth…

Suddenly a hand grabbed his right shoulder harshly and he was spun around forcefully. Severus Snape – his head of house and the bane of his Hogwarts existence.

"Potter." Cold black eyes looked down on him, the Professor's voice clipped and flat as usual, spiked with that underlying hatefulness reserved for Harry alone. "I do not think your presence here his required. I would suggest you join your housemates before I have to assign detention for sticking your nose where it does not belong. Have I made myself clear?"

"Perfectly, sir."

Harry gritted his teeth and made his way back towards the stairs. Leave it to Snape to show up at the most inopportune moment.

Just before Harry was out of hearing reach he caught a last sentence, one that made his blood freeze.

"Pettigrew helped…"

He turned around again trying to glean more information – any detention Snape could give him was worth learning more about that damned rat – but a screaming Amos Diggory drowned Longbottom's voice.

"My son! Cedric! I want to see my son! Let me through! Cedric!"

From a safe distance Harry watched as Amos Diggory broke down crying next to his unmoving son.

...

The End-of-Term Feast was a subdued affair. The Great Hall was decorated with black in memory of Cedric Diggory's death and Dumbledore's speech – where he confirmed that Diggory had apparently died by Lord Voldemort's hand – did nothing to lighten the depressing atmosphere.

All in all for the first time in years Harry Potter was not completely adverse to leave the castle behind and board the Hogwarts Express. As usual he shared his compartment with Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for about half an hour before Tracey spoke up.

"Do you think it's true? What Dumbledore said? Is He back?" She kept her voice perfectly neutral, not revealing what answer she deemed preferable.

Blaise and Daphne shrugged their shoulders. Theo looked out of the window, avoiding all eye contact. He had been acting strangely for the last few days, adamantly refusing to talk about the Dark Lord's return. For Harry, who was used to discussing thoughts of all nature with Theo, this was extremely frustrating.

Theodore Nott was his best friend. When they first arrived at Hogwarts both of them had been extremely shy, struggling to find their place amongst the condescending Slytherins. Oftentimes they were overseen next to the boisterous Malfoy and Blaise or the massive forms of Crabbe and Goyle. In the beginning their companionship had been one of convenience, but by the end of their first year they had become friends.

In light of Dumbledore's speech and Diggory's death, Theo's strange behaviour was only one more confirmation that Lord Voldemort was truly back. Harry knew about the rumours that Theo's father was a Death Eater. He had probably already received confirmation from his father but couldn't really say it openly – not even to Harry.

"I am not sure yet… we'll have to wait and see. But there is a lot indicating Longbottom told the truth." The others looked at him expectantly. Harry elaborated.

"Who else could have killed Diggory? Longbottom?"

Theo snorted.

"Exactly." Harry continued. "The idea alone is ridiculous. And then there is Dumbledore. What would he gain from lying about this?" Silence met him, but he could see the wheels spinning behind Blaise's eyes. That boy loved his conspiracy theories.

"Maybe his influence is waning and he tries to ensure his position by making the public feel they need him… Everybody knows he is the only one powerful enough to fight the Dark Lord."

"Right." Tracey remarked, sneering. "And when no Dark Lord shows up he'll just say sorry, my mistake? He would lose all credibility."

"Well… he could always stage a duel. Glamour somebody to look like the Dark Lord and…" He shut up without finishing the sentence. It seemed even Blaise realized how ludicrous this theory was. And that was saying something for the guy who once seriously suspected Snape to be a vampire scouting for students worth turning after graduation. In his defence, Blaise had been twelve at the time.

The others snickered while Blaise turned a light shade of pink – according to Blaise a Zabini worth his salt never turned red, no matter the situation. So far at least that statement held true.

The rest of the train ride was spent joking and talking about unimportant subjects, but Harry could not shake the feeling that the overall mood was not as light as usual.

Their conversation about Voldemort had shown all to clearly that even though the Dark Lord had not even officially returned, they were already getting cautious with their statements. None of them had revealed what they thought of His possible return, only trying to gauge the others' point of view. Not that this was surprising. If there was one thing they had learned over the years in Slytherin it was to always gain more information than to give and always make sure that there was somebody else in your corner before you took a position.

...

Harry crossed the barrier to the main part of King's Cross and looked out for his muggles. He refused to think of the Dursleys as family and was pretty certain the sentiment was mutual.

Not long and he found them standing behind a group of tourists. They hadn't spotted him yet and alternated between looking at the foreigners in annoyance and the barrier to platform 9 ¾ with thinly veiled disgust and fear.

Harry dragged his heavy trunk in their direction and silently cursed the law that forbade him to do magic outside of school for the umpteenth time. His life would be so much easier…

Dudley caught sight of him first. His small pig eyes narrowed he pulled on his mother's elbow and soon three hostile stares welcomed him "home".

So, that was my first chapter. I hope you liked it. The second one is only one click away. Please tell me what you think so far!