Next chapter is here! :D Thank all of you who have reviewed this story (or just viewed ;)) I'm really happy you like it so far. Let's hope I can keep it up :)

To Serial Letters: Thanks! And don't worry, I'm Belgian, so English isn't my first language eithter. I'm still better at it than French though, sorry :/


Harry looked over the field, assessing the other Slytherin students flying around on their brooms. Today was the day of the try-outs, and he was honestly nervous for some reason. His new broom was nothing like his Firebold and he was still working out the kinks, getting used to the much slower equipment as he decided he much more preferred the brooms in his own time.

His eyes flicked over to the bleachers, where Ron, Ginny, Hermione and even Sirius were sitting to cheer him on. The twins would have been there too if they hadn't gotten detention that day for setting off firecrackers during Defence. Harry remembered that Mulciber and Julia Rowle had both gotten detention as well for duelling each other in the hallways, so he was sure the twins would have their hands full. Mulciber and Rowle were both 6th years, a year lower than Fred and George, but extremely talented in dark arts and true trouble makers. From what his classmates had told him, they had detention nearly every week.

His friends had all encouraged him to join the team after he told them of Alphard's invitation, saying it was best for them to get used to this era as soon as possible, and familiar things, like quidditch would make that easier on them. All new Gryffindors were also planning on joining their team, apparently.

His gaze lingered on his Godfather and he frowned worriedly. For the past few days, Sirius had been acting strange, confused. Harry wondered often if something had happened, but the older man told him he was perfectly fine, aside for the fact he apparently missed about 30 minutes of memory. The others had all dismissed it as just a little blackout in which Sirius must have gone about on autopilot, something everyone did every now and then, but Harry wasn't so sure, especially not with the way Tom Riddle and his followers kept staring in his direction every time he was in the same room as them. It had gone so far Harry now avoided the Slytherin common room in the evenings and instead opted to meet his friends in the library or the Room of Requirement, which Sirius had told them about, and stake out there until curfew.

"Alright everyone!" Walburga Black, 6th year chaser, captain and Sirius' future muggle hating mother called everyone together.

Harry flew back to the ground and landed next to Alphard, another chaser, apparently since last year, but he had to do his try-outs again. No one was certain of their spot in the team for two years in a row. Only the best ones were welcome and Walburga gladly kicked her teammates off if it meant there was more room for more talented players. She'd even step out herself if she found herself lacking, but since she was incredibly talented, that was very doubtful. Harry had been honestly surprised when he'd seen her play the first time. She was a natural. Even Victor Crum could learn from her grace on a broom.

"We'll start with the Keeper and Chaser try-outs," the intimidating woman said.
"Rowle, Rosier, get to your places! Alphard, Crabbe and Ravina are on team one, the rest of you are on the other. Potter, Parkinson, wait here until it's your turn!"

With that, all the others took to the sky once more while Harry and Percival Parkinson, 3rd year and Pansy's grandfather Harry guessed, watched. Walburga flew up with the others to keep a close eye on her potential teammates. She had a deep scowl on her aristocratic, soft features, making her look older and less attractive than she actually was. Still, Harry had to admit she was rather beautiful. It was hard to imagine this was the same person as the horrifying painting at Grimmauld place in his own time.

By the time Walburga called him and Parkinson up for their own try-outs, Harry had grown increasingly uncomfortable for some reason. He glanced up towards the bleachers one last time, emerald eyes widening as he saw Tom Riddle sitting not so far from his friends, his dark blue eyes focused solely on him with terrifying intensity.

"The first one to catch the snitch will get the spot!" Walburga instructed, pulling Harry's attention bac to the try-outs.
"Show some fair play while you're at it. We don't tolerate cheating in this team. Slytherin has a bad enough reputation among the other Houses as it is already!"

Harry swallowed nervously and took to the sky. The howling wind in his hair and the cold bite in the air slowly took all his worries away once again. He felt at home this high up and away from all the complicated missions and connections. He felt at home on a broom.

Harry surveyed his surroundings for a moment, trying to locate the snitch, but he soon found himself focused on the quidditch game still going on beneath him. Ravina Lestrange, 7th year and regular on the team for the past three years had the quaffle and easily evaded all her opponents. When one of the Beaters, her younger brother Nicolas Lestrange, sent a bludger her way, she quickly rolled and threw the quaffle in Alphard's awaiting hands, who threw it to the hoop. John Rowle was simply too slow to catch it, making it another point for team one. Harry grinned and applauded.

Harry had had only a few run-ins with the tall, burly 7th year, but he had already figured out that Rowle was just your average bully. He didn't like the man even in the slightest. Not that he was a big fan of Rosier, but his classmate – even though he was obviously a baby Death Eater – was well mannered and nice enough. At least he didn't beat up little kids just for fun. From all his classmates, Harry guessed he liked Alphard best, but maybe that was because he acted so much like Sirius, or because he knew the young Black wasn't going to turn out as a mass murdering, sadistic bastard like most of his other classmates.

Harry shuddered. There was a scary thought.

"Potter!"

Harry looked up, watching Parkinson approach him on his own broom. The younger one was grinning at him, though there was no kindness, only a smug certainty. The boy had short black hair and big, light brown eyes, his face was round and childish, making him look more like a 1st year than a 3rd year, with rosy cheeks and pink lips. Harry decided that he didn't look the slightest bit like his future pug faced granddaughter.

"May the best man win," Parkinson told him in a tone that indicated it would be him.

Harry narrowed his eyes at that, but still accepted the offered hand of his opponent.

"Definitely," Harry agreed, sending his most dazzling smile.

The two separated again and flew both their own way in search of the ever elusive Golden Snitch. The game had finished by now and Harry was only partially aware that it was Rosier who had made the team. He smiled a bit at that, happy he didn't have to see Rowle every training. He'd almost hated the older boy more than he did Riddle. Almost.

The Beaters were now focused entirely on him and Parkinson, hitting the bludgers in their directions while they tried to find the snitch. As the Beaters in the team were Dolohov and Lestrange – it would have been Mulciber instead of Dolohov, but he couldn't make the try-outs and was thus automatically disqualified – they targeted Harry more than Parkinson, mainly because it was pretty obvious that Harry didn't like their Lord. He had proved that point during DADA when he outright threatened Riddle.

He should have seen retribution coming, Harry thought bitterly as he expertly dodged another bludger from Lestrange and flew past Dolohov as fast as his Tinderblast could go. He flew higher as he tried to stay ahead of another one of those damned black balls. He lost track of the bludger easily enough and he took the time to survey his surroundings once more.

A golden sheen on the other side of the field, close to where Parkinson was idly floating on his broom caught his attention. Harry zoned in on the small fluttering ball and levelled his broom down, flying as fast as he could towards the snitch. Only a few seconds after this, Parkinson noticed the snitch as well while he was dodging a bludger sent by Dolohov and he raced towards the small golden orb. He was much closer than Harry, but that had never deterred the green eyed teen before.

A bludger from Lestrange cut off his descend, and Harry had to pull his broom up to prevent the handle from being splintered. A little backflip had him back on track and he executed a perfect corkscrew to confuse the bludger. Gaining speed in the momentum, Harry reached Parkinson and cut off the other boy, forcing the younger to slow down just slightly. It was enough for the bludger to catch up and slam into Parkinson when Harry dropped in height, searing close to the ground as he continued his pursuit on the snitch.

A shout from behind him warned him that Parkinson was out of the game, at least for the moment and Harry used the momentum to catch up with the golden snitch, sticking out his hand as he started climbing along with the annoying little ball he was supposed to catch. From the corner of his eyes, he could see another bludger fly towards him and he sped up even more, forcing his broom past its limits. The cool, smooth metal brushed against his fingers and Harry made a roll, just in time before the bludger could slam in the side of his head.

Grinning, Harry landed and held up the snitch. His friends in the bleachers cheered loudly, and Alphard too applauded, grinning proudly at him. It was still weird to Harry that the young Black Heir was so supportive after the whole debacle a few days earlier. Harry still was angry at his fellow Slytherins, and it unnerved him that Alphard had so easily dismissed the whole thing. He was sure the other had exterior motives in the form of an infuriating junior Dark Lord.

Harry made a point not to look in Riddle's direction, though he could feel the other's intense gaze burning in his back. The sudden level of interest the young Dark Lord was showing him since his slip up in DADA was unnerving to say the least.

"So," Harry said calmly, glancing over to where Parkinson was looking at him, eyes wide in shock and he grinned.
"No hard feelings, right?"

. . . . .

Harry was in a state of bliss as he undressed in the team's dressing room. His broom, the Tinderblast lay next to him while he stripped himself of his green quidditch robes, switching them for his dark blue school robes and tied his green and silver tie back around his neck. He had impressed Walburga and the rest and easily made the team. He just hoped he'd get over the fact that he was playing in the wrong colours soon. Before their first game preferably, though that one was against Huffelpuff, so he didn't expect too much confusion on his part. Now, the game against Gryffindor…

"You're a cheating bastard, you know that?!" Alphard called as he strode over to Harry.

"What?"

The raven teen had a serious expression plastered on his face, stern and his lips pulled down in a scowl, but his dark eyes shone with mischief and he seemed to be trying hard not to smile instead.

"Making me think you're just some ordinary bloke while you're secretly bloody talented!" the other exclaimed.

"I never said I wasn't good though," Harry replied dryly.
"I said I guessed I was sorta good."

"Sorta doesn't really fit though," Rosier pointed out chuckling.
"I just hope this wasn't just some fluke."

"Yeah! If you can pull this off every game, there is no way we'll lose!" Alphard agreed laughing.

"That doesn't mean you can slack off," Walburga cut in, hitting her younger brother on the head.

"When do I ever slack off?" the younger Black asked, rubbing his head as he glared at Walburga.

"Every single one of your classes," she deadpanned.

The entire team chuckled at the two bickering siblings and Harry smiled. He still thought it strange that all these people, who would turn out to be Death Eaters and muggle haters, could be so normal and happy in their youth. It made Harry want to save them all. Cursing his own hero complex, Harry laughed aloud at the jabs and quips his new teammates shot at the cost of the youngest of the two Blacks while the prankster faked hurt at their jokes.

. . . . .

"Harry!"

The teenager looked up to see his friends approaching him, all grinning widely. Hermione ran up to him first, enveloping him in a congratulatory hug while Ginny and Ron walked up slower, the last one doing so while sending nervous glances at the rest of the Slytherin team. Harry noticed of course, and smiled apologetically towards his friend. Once Hermione let go of him, he turned towards his teammates, smiling at them.

"You guys go on ahead," he mumbled.

"Sure! But don't forget we'll be celebrating you and Rosier making the team!" Alphard told him.

Harry wasn't much interested in going. He still distrusted the Slytherins and out of all of them, he only considered Alphard a potential friend. If he could, he'd just stay away from them all, like he had been doing the past week. Sadly, Riddle's groupies seemed to be gaining more and more interest in him, and he was barely left alone without at least one pair of Slytherin eyes on his person. Plus, he still planned on getting close to Riddle, no matter how disgusting the idea was to him.

"Alright, I'll be there, I promise."

"Thank Salazar we won't have to force you then!" Lestrange laughed, clapping him on the back with a bit too much force.

When the Slytherins left, Harry turned back towards his friends, smiling gratefully at them.

"Congratulations on making the team Harry," Ginny told him smiling.

"Thanks, it wasn't easy," he replied.

"Obviously," Hermione scoffed.
"They did it on bloody purpose you know, target you."

"I know, revenge I guess, for Riddle the other day…"

"I wish I'd been there!" Ron groaned.
"Seriously mate! How do you put up with them every day? You're a bloody saint for not having done something sooner!"

"Sooner?! It was only the second day!" Hermione hissed.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to do it before we even got on the train!" the redhead returned.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and glared as Ginny nodded in agreement. It was all Harry could do to stop himself from grinning like an idiot as his friends argued. With a sigh, he fixed his friends with an apologetic look and Ron returned it with a pitying one.

"I better get going before anyone comes looking for me," he murmured.

"Just make sure you survive, alright mate?" Ron warned half-heartedly.

"I rebound killing curses, there isn't much he can do," Harry replied dryly.

"Alright then, see you tomorrow?" Hermione asked smiling.

Harry nodded and gave the brunette witch another parting hug, before waving at Ron. As he started walking away, Ginny fell into step next to him, sending him a dazzling smile and a small blush.

"I'll walk you back," she said.

Harry smiled back gratefully and offered the youngest Weasley his arm, allowing her to hook hers through it as they walked together. They had almost reached the dungeons, when the sound of arguing caught their attentions. Harry easily recognized Rosier's voice, as well as the deep baritone of Rowle and rushed towards the empty classroom he heard them from, Ginny close behind him with her wand already out. He wasn't at all shocked to find Rowle, along with his two brawny cronies, Cornelius Crabbe and Alexander Wilkes, were ganging up on the younger student. No doubt the older boy was bitter for being kicked out of the team.

"What's going on here?!" Harry demanded before he could stop himself.

The four other Slytherin boys all turned to face him and Rowle's face twisted in a gleeful sneer.

"Look at that," he growled darkly.
"If it isn't Potter and his bloodtraitor girlfriend."

Harry rolled his eyes at the taunt and levelled his wand at the large teen, who easily matched his stance. The two glared at each other while Ginny too took a defensive stance next to Harry and Rosier, with Crabbe and Wilkes both raising their wands as well.

For a moment, Harry really thought it would end up in a duel, however, they were stopped before the first curse could be fired. He could feel the raw, magical energy long before the other even entered the room, the power being like a fingerprint, unique and so, so familiar.

"Put the wands down," Tom demanded in a cold, threatening tone.

Rowle and his cronies turned ashen at the sudden appearance of the Lord of Slytherin, while Rosier didn't seem able to decide whether to be relieved, or terrified. At seeing the dark glare Riddle levelled on the three older students, he decided on the first one and he deflated visibly as he lowered his wand. Harry was tense as he watched the young Dark Lord circle them to stand in front of Rowle and his helpers, ignoring Ginny who seemed about ready to attack him at any given moment. Harry had to subtly put his hand on her wrist to stop her from raising her wand again.

If Tom even noticed the exchange, he didn't comment on it but his eyes still flicked over to Harry for barely a second before returning to Rowle and narrowing dangerously. The large male gulped loudly, taking a step back from the younger boy, which only made him smirk coldly.

"Are you really that pathetic that you have to attack Rosier just because he is better than you at quidditch?" he asked coolly.

"O-of course not, My L-… Riddle…" Rowle replied shakily, eyeing Harry and Ginny suspiciously as he corrected his almost slip-up.

"No? Then, pray tell, what were you doing then?"

"I-I was-.."

"Attacking Rosier for being better at quidditch," Harry quipped.

Ginny looked mortified at his audacity, so did Rosier, Crabbe and Wilkes. Tom looked over at him again, dark blue eyes studying him intently. It was slightly uncomfortable, but Harry was used to being stared at after years of being the Boy-Who-Lived so he just shook the feeling off and levelled the teen Voldemort with a neutral expression. Then, to everyone's surprise, Tom smiled, a dark, sadistic smile as he turned to look at Rowle again. The burly 7th year turned completely white as that expression settled on him.

"Hmmm. Is that so?" Riddle purred sweetly.
"Are you lying to me, Rowle? Tsk, tsk, you should know better than that."

"I didn't-…" the man began shaking.

"And here you are, doing it again! Be careful when you pick your words, Rowle."

Harry could clearly hear the threat in those words, the unspoken 'they might be your last' hung in the air loud and clear for everyone who was even slightly aware of what Tom Riddle really was like.

"Riddle," he spoke carefully.

"Potter," the other returned, smiling pleasantly at him.

"There's no need for violence you know, everything is settled now."

"And here I thought you were about to start fighting," Riddle smiled.
"It is my duty as Prefect to prevent that from happening. Should I assign you all detention instead?"

"… No…" Harry muttered warily.

"Good! Let's get going then, we can't have a party without the two guests of honour, can we?"

Tom eyed both Harry and Rosier for a moment before turning towards Ginny and giving her a most dazzling, charming smile that would have made most other girls weak in the knees. Ginny simply narrowed her eyes in suspicion and crossed her arms over her chest, her wand still tightly fisted in her hand.

"I apologize for the inconvenience, Miss Weasley," he spoke calmly.
"But Harry is in good hands now, you can go back to your lion's den."

Ginny snorted, but still turned around and strode out of the classroom, brown eyes darkened with anger and hatred. Harry watched her go and sighed, knowing that he was going to be given hell if he didn't go after her, so he moved to do just that. A strong hand around his arm had him stop after only one step, and Harry glared at Tom.

"You're not getting away that easy, Potter," the handsome Dark Lord said dangerously.

Harry narrowed his eyes, hands twitching to grab his wand at the threat in front of him. His heart constricted at the scrutinizing gaze in those dark blue orbs and he wondered what Tom knew to look at him like that. It had only been six days! No matter how much of a genius Tom Riddle was there was just no way he'd figure everything out that soon, could he? Tom seemed to notice his hesitance and he squeezed his arm, a bright smile crossing his features as he started pulling Harry out of the room.

"There is a party waiting for you," he explained cheerfully.

Harry almost sighed in relief, but held it in as he simply smiled back and nodded. The grip on his arm disappeared and Harry quickly rushed forward some to walk next to Rosier, who smiled at him as well and clapped him on the back.

"Thanks for sticking up for me, Potter," he said softly.

"No problem," Harry replied grinning darkly.
"I just don't like bullies, so it was my pleasure."

Rosier raised a brow at that, but if he suspected that Harry was thinking about something else, he didn't say anything about it. Tom on the other hand narrowed his eyes in amusement as he stared at Harry's back, a sinister smirk curling his lips as his mind raced over the conversation he had caught between Harry and his three friends earlier…