Chapter IV
Harry's shirt was mostly opened, his sun-kissed skin revealed to Tom's hungry eyes, his dark nipples peaking from the edges of the dark green shirt. In front of him was another situation, just like the his first lesson with Tom. Tom just sat in his chair, a look of amusement on his handsome face as he twirled Harry's wand in his hands. "You have one more try, Harry," he said. "I have far more planned to do tonight than this exercise. Do it again."
Harry sighed and stared at the situation in front of him. It was not the Great Hall like last time, but instead he was dealing with two small armies. His goal was simple: kill the opposing army's leader (who looked like Dumbledore) without losing any of his soldiers, or even having his killer noticed at all. So far he had tried anything he could think of: an archer trying to kill the leader from far away, sending in a solder under the cover of darkness, using a group of soldiers act as a distraction as another circle around to kill the leader, trying a one-on-one duel between his strongest soldier and the leader as another one tried to kill the leader from a distance. …Anything he could think of he tried, and they all failed. He was quickly growing frustrated with this, and it was affecting his performance.
"You can have them do anything pet, remember that," Tom said. "Now… take a deep breath in… good, hold it… … now slowly release it." Harry did as he was instructed and found himself slightly more at ease. "A calm commander can find the solution that a stressed commander misses," Tom said. "Now, keep breathing until you are calm."
Harry continued to breathe deeply, every breath carrying a tiny piece of his stress, his frustration, our of his body. When he was fully calm he looked at Tom, giving him a small smile and said, "Thank you," before looking back at the small table in front of him.
The table was divided by two sides, near Harry was a small castle in which his soldiers waited for his orders. A path connecting his castle to the enemies' went through the middle of the table, surrounded by hills. The enemy forces patrolled the hills regularly, moving in a pattern that Harry quickly memorized. Even though it was a dream, Harry couldn't help but feel a little thirsty. He looked at Tom and said, "Tom… I'm thirsty… can I?"
Tom chuckled and nodded, "There is a glass behind you pet."
Harry turned to see a glass of pumpkin juice already prepared for him, and he had an idea. Turning to Tom he said, "My units can do anything you said? Then how about they try to make a truce?"
"A truce?" Tom asked, raising an intrigued eyebrow.
"Yeah, a truce, so that Dumbledore—I mean the enemy leader will be in my castle. There under my control, I can have my soldiers pretend to serve a meal and give him a poisoned goblet. When they all raise their glasses to honor this truce, the enemy leader will drink from the goblet and die from the poison," Harry said. "That way none of my soldiers would die, and he would not know which one has poisoned his cup."
Harry smiled as he waited for Tom's response. The sixteen year old just smiled at Harry and waved his hand, "Play it out," he simply said. So Harry did.
He sent a single soldier with a message down the road and towards the enemy castle, carrying a white flag. The enemy patrollers stopped him, they talked, and soon the two patrollers started to escort his messenger the rest of the way to the other castle. In the mean time, Harry had his other soldiers to prepare a meal and separate drinks. His assassin prepared the enemy leader's goblet, dropping a lethal potion into the cup as his messenger and the enemy leader walked out of the castle. The two made their way across the path, past the patrolling soldiers, and into his territory. Harry couldn't help but smirk as he watched his plan unfold. His assassin finished making the finishing touches on the enemy leader's goblet just as they entered the castle. Harry watched as a model of himself and Tom greeted the enemy leader and invited him to the banquet hall. His and Tom's models sat close together and the enemy was seated in the guest of honor's chair. The soldiers served the food, the assassin handing the goblet to a waiter who walked directly to the enemy leader to hand it to him. He took it gladly and waited for Tom's model to stand. Harry's stood also and looked at Tom's model as it seemed to be making a speech. After the speech they all drank and Harry smiled in victory as the enemy-leader who looked like Dumbledore immediately started choking and fell over the table, dead.
"I did it!" Harry shouted to Tom, who merely smiled.
"Good," he said softly. "And now for the next lesson." Tom waved Harry's hand and the buttons that flew from Harry's shirt returned, the shirt sewing itself back together, buttoning and hiding Harry's skin from Tom's view. Harry couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed at that. "Now Harry, we are going to begin with the first spell," Tom said.
"Is it an Unforgivable Curse?" Harry asked.
"No, far from that," Tom said. "You are far too innocent to even think of casting one, my sweet Harry. Though the fact that you instantly go to those spells is slightly disturbing. Harry, tell me, what are the Dark Arts?"
"Magic that does… dark stuff, you know, like harm people, control them… kill them. Bad stuff like that, yeah?" Harry asked.
Tom just smirked and shook his head. "No Harry, that is only a small fracture of what the Dark Arts can do. Remember my heir, our auras are a brilliant green like a shining emerald on a cloudless day. Why would such a beautiful color occur for something so terrible? The Dark Arts are more than that Harry, much more. There are harmful spells, yes, spells that kill or harm or maim, spells that forces the victim into insanity, spells that can do unimaginable horrible things: these spells Harry, are the Dark Arts. But there are also spells found useful but are never used for reasons. For example in Bulgaria where the Dark Arts is taught, there is a spell that can give a male a womb. The Bulgarians only believe in the strong, true Bulgarians if I can be specific; strength is the leading attractive value, not gender or looks. The weak look for the strong, and the strong protect the weak. It is only natural that a spell is developed to reflect that mindset.
"To give it a definition, the Dark Arts are a collection of spells and potions that are deemed illegal for many reasons. Here in England, it is mainly due to the prejudices of the Ministry of Magic. But we'll go into detail about that on a later date. Dark Magic is separated into three groups: Jinxes, Hexes, and Curses. Now, in Hogwarts you learn Jinxes and few hexes, just to show how hypocritical both the Ministry and headmasters can be. I want you to start with jinxes, just to show me your mastery of them, and then we will move onto the more dangerous spells. Do you understand, Harry?"
"Yes, Tom," Harry said.
"Good," Tom smiled. "Now, let's do a simple one: the Revulsion Jinx. It is a simple jinx that pushes the target to let go of whatever it is they are holding, also it forces the target away from the caster. The incantation is Relashio. Repeat it Harry, Relashio."
"Relashio," Harry said.
"Good. Again."
"Relashio."
Tom nodded. "Good, now there is no fancy wand work with this spell, you simple point at the target and cast the spell. Now…" Tom stepped towards Harry and gave him his wand. "Use the spell," he whispered, "to push me away. Imagine I am someone undesirable, someone wishing to harm, and use all your strength to push me."
Harry looked up at Tom and blushed. Trying his best to think him repulsive, a disgusting image appeared. It wasn't human. It looked like a small, wrinkled baby with shriveled arms, an alien looking head with red eyes, no nose and bald. The creature seemed to notice Harry's presence and spoke in a high, strained voice. His stomach flipped in disgust, his wand jabbed at Tom's navel and he yelled "Relashio!"
Tom flew away from Harry, almost knocking into the table behind him. He looked at Harry and frowned. "Interesting," he said.
"What was that?" Harry gasped.
"That… was me… at least that is what I believe to be Lord Voldemort," Tom said.
"He didn't even look remotely human," Harry said, a cold sweat appearing on his forehead. "and the way it looked at me… Tom, that thing can't be you!"
Tom frowned at Harry. "I have already told you Harry, the Dark Lord and I are the same person. Though our methods seemed to have changed slightly. To be reduced to that disgusting body… it's an insult to my power." He shook his head and sighed. "We'll think about this another time Harry, for now let's continue practicing the spell."
Harry and Tom continued to practice the spell for the next hour, the horrific image edging away from their concerns. At the end of the hour, Tom congratulated Harry on a job well done and permitted his innocent heir to a restful, dreamless sleep.
Harry soon fell into a habit in the next few weeks. During the day he went to his classes, hang out with Ron and Hermione, and acted like a normal Gryffindor. At night he went to bed excited as he once again finds himself in the white room, wearing the dark green button down shirt and tight black trousers that hugged his body just right, where he learned from Tom. There in that room Harry and Tom went over situations, each time Tom sending a button flying off of Harry's shirt, revealing his skin slowly with each failure. Harry had yet to learn what would happen if all the buttons were severed off, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't excited to learn the consequences. After each situation, Harry continued learning Jinxes; the vision of the present Voldemort returning only once or twice.
His classes seemed to getting more difficult. Harry first started to notice in Defense Against the Dark Arts where Professor Moody announced that he would put each and every one of them under the Imperius Curse so they could learn to fight it off. It was funny to Harry as he watched one by one, his fellow students doing extraordinary things under the spells' influence. Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem/ Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel. Neville performed a series of quite astonishing gymnastics he would certainly not have been capable of in his normal state. None of them seemed to be able to fight off the curse, and each of them recovered only when Moody removed it.
"Potter," Moody growled, "you next."
Harry moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry and said, "Imperio!"
It was the most wonderful feeling. Harry felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching him. The diary, which was as always hidden in his robe pocket, seemed to press onto him as Tom's voice chuckled.
"Honestly Harry, must we add this to your lessons?" Tom asked. "Though, it is good that you feel the marvelous freedom the Imperio Curse gives someone; but remember Harry who it is you listen to."
Mad-Eye Moody's voice echoed in some distant chamber of his empty brain: Jump onto the desk …jump onto the desk. …
Harry bent his knees obediently, preparing to spring.
Jump onto the desk…
"Harry, stop," Tom ordered. "This order is completely foolish."
Why jump? Another voice had awoken in the back of his brain. Listen to Tom.
Jump onto the desk.
"Harry," Tom warned.
No, the voice said more firmly. I don't think I will.
Jump! NOW!
The next thing Harry felt was considerable pain. He had both jumped and tried to prevent himself from jumping—the result was that he'd smashed headlong into the desk, knocking it over, and, by the feeling in his legs, fractured both his kneecaps. He scrambled to make sure Tom's diary was safe and secure as he stood up.
"Now, that's more like it!" Moody growled and suddenly Harry felt the empty feeling in his head disappear, replaced by his thoughts and Tom's presence. "Look at that, you lot …Potter fought it! He fought it, and he damn near bet it! We'll try again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention—watch his eyes, that's where you see it—very good, Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you!"
Tom's voice chuckled darkly in Harry's mind, "That is only because only I am allowed to control you, my sweet pet."
Yeah, Harry agreed before going under the Imperius Curse again.
Again Harry found Ron all too excited about the Unforgivable Curses as they exited the class, the redhead skipping on every alternate step. "That was a very interesting class, wasn't it?" Ron asked. "The way he had control over everyone… it was scary. He really knows his stuff huh? And just the feeling being under the spell…" Ron looked towards the ceiling wistfully. Harry couldn't help but chuckle softly at his friend's obviousness.
If Draco really likes Ron, then maybe he should teach him something about subtly, he thought to Tom.
"Yeah," Harry said aloud, "it is a strange feeling… though, I have to say that the way he talks, it's like he's expecting us to be attacked any second."
"Yeah, I know," Ron said. "He's a paranoid one, that one." They turned a corner to see Malfoy walking further down. Harry turned to Ron to see that the redhead tried his best to avoid looking at Draco, a tiny hint of a blush hiding in his cheeks.
Harry smirked at that. Draco will be happy to know this, he thought. He debated if he should tease Ron about, but decided against it, instead figuring to take a back seat and watch the budding events. When they came to the entrance hall, there was a large crowd standing in front of a huge notice board. Harry and Ron pushed through the crowd and read the announcement:
TWIWIZARD TOURNAMENT
THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY. STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST.
"Only a week away!" Harry grinned. "Wonder what they'll be like. I've never knew that there were other schools."
"There's a few schools out of England," Ron said. "Though they don't really talk with each other."
"Really? I wonder why that is," Harry mused.
Tom answered Harry's questions. "Politics and different views of magic mostly," he said. Harry nodded at Tom's answer and followed Ron into the Great hall, both boys excited and impatient for the 30th of October to come.
Hogwarts seemed to undergo an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects. The suits of armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch was behaving so ferociously to any students who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first year girls into hysterics.
The other staff members seemed to act tensely as well, wanting to show their guests the best that Hogwarts can offer. The only relief that Harry had in the day was when he fell asleep and spent time with Tom.
The day before the thirtieth Harry ran into Draco alone in a corridor and the two friends smiled. "Finally Potter, you're a hard boy to get by yourself," Draco smirked.
"Technically, I'm never by myself," Harry said, his hand lightly petting Riddle's diary. Draco nodded and asked, "How is our Lord?"
"Tom is good," Harry smiled. "I think he might be planning something… but he refuses to share it with me."
"I am sure he will," Draco said, looking at Harry's scar weirdly. "Your aura… it changed Harry. The green around your scar… it's growing. It's moving downward, reaching your ear now. … I have to say Harry, you look pretty with it."
"Thanks," Harry blushed, looking down at his feet. "Anyway… I think you would like to know something," he looked up at Draco with a smirk.
"Oh? And what is it, Harry?" Draco asked, crossing his arms.
Harry mimicked Draco and took a step back. "Well," he said, trying to imitate his friend's tone, "I have some certain information about a certain redhead…"
"Really?" Draco said, his eyes growing a tad bigger before he composed himself again. "W-What is it?"
"Well," Harry said. "When he saw you, there may or may not be a blush on his cheeks…" Harry smiled at his friend.
"He did?" Draco said, sounding hopefully. "Thank you Harry… this is good to hear." They both shared a smirk and looked around, making sure that they won't be interrupted.
"So," Harry said, "tomorrow the other schools are coming for the tournament. Do you know what they're like? Tom told me a bit about Bulgarian wizards already."
"Well, let's see," Draco mused, leaning on the wall. "What do you know about the Bulgarian wizards?"
"They practice the Dark Arts," Harry said. "And that the Dark Arts is much more than the Unforgivable Curses, like that spell that can cause guys to get pregnant! Bulgaria values strength over all things; the weak are attracted to the strong, and the strong looks after the weak."
Draco nodded and said, "That is how most wizards around that area behave. The Durmstrang Institute is located in the northernmost section of Scandinavia and has a completely different opinion of magic than Hogwarts or our Ministry of Magic. They emphasize the Dark Arts there, honestly Harry knowing who you are now I think we both would do far better going to Durmstrang, but that is unfortunately impossible. They only accept students from Scandinavian countries, Bulgaria rarely. Anyway while I do not know the Institute personally, I believe I can say that as far as the Dark Arts go, they are the best. Their students learn the Dark Arts at an early age, learn their affects, their dangers, and their benefits. Truly a superior school to Hogwarts in that regard."
Harry nodded, "Maybe it would be easier if we went to Durmstrang… but I still like Hogwarts better, you know? I have Tom here… and you, and Ron! Besides, if we did go to Durmstrang, I honestly don't think I would have encountered Tom." Harry pulled the old dairy out and smiled faintly at it.
Draco just nodded, muttering an agreement. Harry pocketed the diary and looked at Draco, "So what do you know about the other school?"
"Beauxbatons Academy of Magic," Draco said. "Mother wanted me to go there, as if I would be caught dead there. They are similar to Hogwarts but only fruitier. The focus on Light Magic is much more emphasized there than here; they are much more 'in tuned with nature' than Hogwarts. Everything there must be beautiful, and if not well… you are a shame."
"So they're like the opposite of Durmstrang, yeah?" Harry asked. "Durmstrang values power while Beauxbatons values beauty?"
"To put it that simply, yes," Draco nodded.
"Do you think…" Harry said hesitantly, "that they might be Aura Readers? The people coming from those two schools?"
"There is always a possibility Harry," Draco said, "But remember that it is a very rare gift. Don't forget that in this entire castle there are only two Readers: Me and Dumbledore."
"That's true," Harry nodded. "I just don't want anyone to tip off Dumbledore or any of the staff."
"Oh! That reminds me," Draco said, pushing off of the wall. "Follow me Harry," he started to walk down the deserted corridor, the Gryffindor following. "Can our Lord hear me?" he asked.
"Yes, he can," Harry said.
"Good," Draco whispered. "Now Durmstrang's headmaster is a man named Igor Karkaroff. He is a traitor. He was a Death Eater who turned on several of his comrades for his own safety."
Harry could feel Tom's irritation inside him. "What type of Dark Lord did I become?" Tom asked, "To allow a traitor like that to live?"
It must have been after… you know… that night Harry thought.
"Yes, I still need to figure out why I went after you as a babe, Harry," Tom mused. "I wonder… if it might be possible for my soul to contact the monstrous husk that is Voldemort."
Maybe… but Tom, I don't want to see that thing again… ever, Harry frowned.
"I am sorry my sweet, but there are answers that we must know, and only that husk holds them," Tom whispered. "Do not worry; we will not even dare to do it until I have you in my arms."
Harry cheeks blushed and he nodded.
"Uhh Harry?" Draco said confused.
"Sorry," Harry blushed. "Tom… we were discussing something."
"Alright," Draco nodded. "But seriously Harry, promise me that you will be careful with Karkaroff around. Though he was a Death Eater and is very knowledgeable with the Dark Arts, it scares him. He is a coward above all and will run to Dumbledore, or at least run away, at the sign of our Lord."
"Okay, I'll be careful Draco, I promise," Harry said.
"Good," Draco sighed, sounding utterly relieved. He gave his friend a smile and said, "Now we can move onto more important matters. Ron, my big redhead likes me huh?" Draco smirked.
"Yeah, that's what I said," Harry said. Draco's smirk widened and he leered at Harry. "If you weren't the Dark Lord's I would kiss you now Harry," he sighed. "I think I should begin preparations."
"Preparations?" Harry asked. "For what?"
"Now that I know Ron is gay and he is attractive to me, I need to prepare. I want to see his golden aura become corrupted by beautiful emeralds. There is so much I can show him, just as our Lord is showing you Harry," Draco said. "I need to prepare to show Ron the greatness that we both… we all know."
"Oh, alright…" Harry said. "Uhh good luck with that yeah? I'll see you later?"
"Of course Harry, so sorry to cut our meeting short," Draco nodded. "Good bye Harry. Good bye, my Lord." Draco turned and left the corridor, disappearing around the corner. Harry sighed and leaned onto the wall.
"I wish I could meet up with him more regularly," he admitted to the air around him. "I hate meeting in secret."
Tom remained quiet, his thoughts brewing in his diary as he focused on saving his building strength.
The next day Hogwarts was in an excited buzz over their coming guests. None of the students could focus on their lessons, everyone glancing every now and then at a clock only to watch the hour hand move agonizingly slow towards six o'clock. At a half hour to all of Hogwarts were stationed at the front of the castle, eyes wondering all around as students whispered and theorized how exactly the guest will arrive. They scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving; everything was still, silent, and quite as usual. Harry started to feel cold, he pulled his robes to him and smiled as the heat from the diary warmed him. He did not know how it happened, but ever since this morning Tom's diary was warm. He tried asking Tom, but his crush was oddly silent.
Dumbledore's voice broke the silence and everyone looked up to see the delegation from Beauxbatons approaching. It was a gigantic, powder-blue horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.
The Hogwarts students all backed up as the winged horses landed, the carriage following. The doors opened and a small boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then Harry saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage—a shoe the size of a child's sled—followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman he had ever seen in his life. A few people gasped.
"Giant," Ron whispered in Harry's ear. "Harry! That's a giant! Blimey she's bigger than Hagrid!"
Harry nodded as the giant woman stood her full height. Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe to look at the woman. Dumbledore and the woman, whose name was Madame Maxime, started to talk but Harry paid them no mind as he watched the Beauxbatons students started to filter out of the carriage: all beautiful boys and girls wearing similar pale blue robes as the first small boy and all appearing to be in their late teens. They stood behind Madame Maxime shivering, which was unsurprising given how their robes seemed to be made of fine silk and none of them were wearing cloaks.
"Idiots," Harry muttered as he pointed them out to Ron, who snorted.
Dumbledore and Maxime continued to talk for a moment, Hagrid walking up to them as Dumbledore mentioned him, before Madame Maxime and her students walked inside the castle, the Hogwarts students parting to let them past. Harry, however, did not move as his eyes were still scanning the horizon, eager and desperate to see the school that teaches the Dark Arts.
His body shivered with anticipation His eyes started to strain as he tried to glare at the horizon, wanting and needing for the Durmstrang students to appear. "Can you hear something?" Ron interrupted him suddenly.
Harry listened; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed. …
"The lake!" Someone called out. From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water breaking. A whirlpool appeared and what seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool… and then Harry saw the rigging. …
"It's a mast!" he said to Ron and Hermione.
Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Harry tried his best to get a look at everyone who disembarked the ship as it reached the lake's edge but all he could see were silhouettes. All of them, Harry noticed, seemed to be built like Crabbe and Goyle but then, as they drew nearer, he was that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shagged fur. But still, Harry mused, some of them were built. They were led by a man with sleek and silver hair. "Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope, "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied. Karkaroff… so that's him, Harry thought to himself. The traitorous coward who fled from the Dark Lord. Harry frowned as his thoughts shifted towards Wormtail, a cowardly traitor like Karkaroff but worse. At least Karkaroff did not cause his parents' deaths.
Harry watched Karkaroff with interest. He was thin and tall like Dumbledore, but his white hair was sort, and his goatee barely hid his weak chin. He had yellow teeth which was shown in a smile that did not reach his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. "Viktor, come along, into the warmth …you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold. … Ahh and Klaus… of course," Karkaroff said, his voice straining to hide disapproval as two of his students moved from the crowd. The first, Harry noticed, was tall and built with wide shoulders and walked slightly duck-footed while the second seemed only two-thirds the first's size, his body skinny and fragile-looking, almost buried in the cloak he was wearing.
Ron punched Harry in the arm and hissed, "Harry—it's Krum!"
It seemed that both Draco and Tom were correct. Krum was the stronger of the two, Klaus always being by his side and Krum acting… doting on him. The Durmstrang students were sitting at the Slytherin Table as the Beauxbatons were sharing the Ravenclaw Table's. Ron kept staring at the Slytherin Table, his eyes shifting between Krum and Malfoy. Harry watched as well, mostly noticing the interactions between Krum and Klaus: the fragile looking boy: Krum seemed to get the food for the fragile boy, the boy's lips moving softly as he talked to Krum. Draco sat next to Krum and the two talked. Harry looked at Ron to see a jealous frown etched on his face.
Harry just smirked and shook his head. After the feast Dumbledore stood up and the crowded hall became silent. Harry tried to talk with Tom again, hugging the warm book to his body, but again Tom remained silent. A frown appeared on Harry's lips as he looked between Ron and Draco. He couldn't help but feel jealous at them; even though they weren't together, at least they could touch each other, see each other. Didn't have to wait for their dreams or only communicate through thoughts and a book. He sighed, tried to expel any jealousy he had in his mind and decided to focus on whatever speech Dumbledore was giving. He looked at the staff table and was shocked to see Mr. Crouch and Lugo Bagman there, he didn't see the man enter.
Filch approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students.
"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," Dumbledore said as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways …their magical prowess—their daring—their power of deduction—and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."
At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing. Out of the corner of his eyes Harry saw the fragile boy whispering something to Krum.
"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament, one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champion will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."
Dumbledore took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. It disappeared slowly, revealing a large, roughly hewn wooden cup filled to the brim with a dancing blue-white fire.
"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," Dumbledore said. "Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight; where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage students yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross the line."
Outrage roar from the underage students, but Harry didn't care. He was too busy trying to contact Tom, he missed his presence, his voice his touch. …While Harry was prepared to enjoy watching the Triwizard Tournament, he knew that it was not his first priority, that being regaining a body for Tom.
He spent the rest of Dumbledore's speech trying to prod for Tom, searching deep within himself for his crush. Tom, where are you? I can feel your diary, you're so warm against me but I can't hear you, Harry said desperately. For more than a year he and Tom had existed like this, and yet this is the first time the diary has even gone warm, or Tom was nowhere to be found. A bubble of panic rose in Harry. Tom! Tom please answer! I miss you, I love you please! Harry cried out in his mind, unknowingly admitting his feelings for the Dark Lord. He had to do his best to hold back his tears as he stood with the rest of Gryffindor and started to walk out of the Great Hall.
Ron's voice broke Harry from his grief as he said, "Where is he? Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?"
His query was answered almost immediately; they were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students.
"Back to the ship, then," he was saying. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"
Harry saw Krum (with Klaus under his arm) shake his head as he pulled his fur over both him and Klaus. "Professor," said a small voice from under Krum's arm, "I vood like some vine," he looked up at Karkaroff.
"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," Karkaroff snapped, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. The fragile boy visible flinched and Krum looked at Karkaroff.
"I vood like some wine now, Professor," Krum said.
"Fine," Karkaroff snapped. He turned and led his students toward the doors.
"What was that about?" Hermione asked. "Did you see the way Professor Karkaroff acted? And why did Krum have a little boy under his cloak?"
"Cultural differences Hermione," Harry answered. "He's most likely Krum's boyfriend."
"Oh," was all Hermione said. Harry and Ron shared a frown at the look of disapproval on Hermione's face.
"Come on," Harry said, "I'm tired." The three went with the rest of the Gryffindors back to their common room. Harry's mind was busy with worries of Karkaroff and Hermione's comment. It seemed that his mission to help his beloved will be more difficult than it seemed, especially now that he learned of his friend's apparent disapproval at Krum's and Klaus's relationship. Exhausted and needing to talk with Tom, Harry excused himself to bed. He disrobed, dressed in his pajamas, and slipped under the covers, closing his eyes.
And for the first time in over a year, Harry had a dreamless sleep.
A/N: Four chapters in and the Triwizard Tournament is already beginning! Wow that's fast… well good news is that I have a week off from work and (very soon) I'll only be working on 2 works! So my friends, expect more frequent updates! Thank you to everyone who has read/followed/favorite/reviewed this story! I'll try to reply to every review, but some will be missed (so sorry).
Lady Kaiki: Here it is! Is four days soon enough?
Kimeno-pebols: I'm glad you're finding this interesting!
Alice22: Ron is hiding many things, even things he did not know he was hiding! Like a passion with a certain blonde boy.
Kigen Dawn: Yes now they can start moving down their paths… and since you're so obsessed with Harry's virginity he can lose it to the not virgin Riddle. But that's not for a long while.
Littlepanther: Yes! Another guilty-pleasure shipper lol. Harry will fall to the Dark Arts very gradually while Ron… well he just needs a tiny little push. And no, we will not see a jealous Tom, but we will see a secretive one.
AsorenRM: MEAT! Meat?
Supremebananamanager: Well, we've skipped a year so it may seem a bit fast at paces, but that is intentional. (As in I may or may not be planning a sequel bait even though we've just begun)
Draconic skysong: Everything is building up to that scene, but when we get there… well they will be completely different characters from the ones we know.