Disclaimer - How much do I earn from this? I'm earning zilch. Nada. Nothing.

Another slow chapter - but important. To make up for the lack of pace or action, next chapter wraps up year one at Hogwarts.

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To Master The Dark

Chapter 10

Selina runs her hands through my hair, a look of intense concentration on her face. Satisfied that my hair is artfully arranged as she calls it - her eyes move on, critically taking in my appearance. She straightens my tie, and buttons my jacket.

Then unbuttons it.

Then buttons it again.

Then closes two buttons.

Then opens one.

"Selina?" I murmur. "I'll be late."

Behind her, Sally is laughing silently, her shoulders shaking, making faces at me. I send a glare her way, which she ignores.

"Black shoes?" Selina raised her eyebrows at me. "Didn't I ask you to wear the grey ones?"

I sigh. "Yes. You did. And then you changed your mind and asked me to wear these."

She purses her lips, then flashes me a bright smile. "Perfect."

"So I can go now?" I ask, struggling to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

Selina pretends to think about it. Or I hope she's pretending.

"Yes," she nods. Her hands on my shoulders, she swivels me around to face a full length mirror.

I'm certain Selina could write a six foot essay about my outfit. I cannot.

I am wearing grey dress robes, with bright silver accents. Enough said.

The Ministry hosts a formal party on the Eve of Christmas. I received an owl a week in advance, inviting me to it, on behalf of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

I accepted.

Andromeda Tonks is waiting for me in the living room. Wordlessly, she grasps my arm. I take a breath and brace myself.

Apparating is extremely uncomfortable. I feel like I'm being squeezed through a narrow tube, the sensation is very unpleasant.

Some apparate better than others. When Ted Tonks does it, it isn't as uncomfortable as when Andromeda Tonks does.

We appear on a paved driveway, facing a two storied house.

The door swings open, and Nymphadora Tonks stumbles out.

"Harry!" she greets loudly. "Ooo, that is a classy outfit."

I shrug, following Andromeda inside. "Selina picked it out."

"She has good taste," the metamorph agrees.

She strikes up a one-sided conversation as we enter the living room. I nod absently as I wait for Andromeda to come downstairs.

"- so anyway, you have to go now." Tonks waves, her hair cycling through the rainbow.

I nod at her and walk over to the fire as Andromeda enters. She picks up a pot lying above the fireplace and withdraws a pinch of powder. The powder is thrown into the fire, the flames crackle loudly, turning green.

She steps through. "The Ministry of Magic, Twenty-Nine."

I wait for a few seconds, then throw in a pinch of powder myself. I take a deep breath and step through. Flames rise up around me, heatless emerald green.

"The Ministry of Magic, Twenty-Nine," I say clearly, making sure my elbows are by my side.

I shoot out the other end, and pair of arms steady me. I know its Andromeda, and contain my reflex to attack.

"Be very careful Harry," she warns me, not for the first time.

I nod. "I will."

Andromeda is not invited to the ball. She hasn't been, not since she ran away from her family.

She goes back through the floo, and I move forward.

I have emerged into a circular room. On one side there are half a dozen floo entrances. The only other exit is a high arch. Three guards stand around a desk by the exit.

I walk forward, my left hand closing around fine parchment. I withdraw it, handing it over to the guard behind the desk.

The desk is too high for me to see what he does, but I'm certain that he's certifying the invitation is not a forgery. His eyes flick up at me, looking for the famous scar. My hair covers it though, and he manages to remain professional, waving an arm towards the arch.

"Welcome back, "

The other two guards scramble forward to get a better look at me. I breeze past, striding through the arch.

The ballroom is massive. I'd assume its twice as large as the Great Hall at Hogwarts. A raised platform is at one end. Tables are spread out before it, the number of chairs to a table varying. Candles float high up near the ceiling.

Ice sculptures rise up here and there. Over by one side there is a long table, laden with refreshments. The marble beneath my feet seems to glow faintly.

All around there is extravagance, opulence. I spy a man already getting drunk, spilling his large goblet of...whatever it is. My lip curls.

I move through the crowd unobtrusively, simply observing the various groups, trying to grasp the dynamics... There are very few children, and even fewer I recognize.

A few people have formed a small circle, a few steps away from where I stand. I raise my voice, taking a step towards them.

"Madam Bones?"

She turns, her eyes immediately focusing on me.

"Harry!" she exclaims warmly.

"Harry Potter?" the lady on her right exclaims.

I turn the corners of my lips upwards, giving the entire group a small bow.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter ," another man says, almost pushing Amelia aside to stand in front of me, his hand outstretched.

I keep the smile up, and shake his hand.

"Introductions, Madam Bones?" I ask politely.

She raises a single eyebrow at me, and I nod, almost imperceptibly.

Fifteen minutes later I've been introduced to a whole lot of people. I don't stop to talk with anyone, moving on, trying to simply meet as many as possible.

I'm cut short when a trumpet or two is blown, and Cornelius Fudge struts in, beaming all around, bowing graciously to polite applause.

"Have you been assigned a table?"

"Yes, Madam Bones."

"You'll thank me later, I got you a good table. Take a seat. Dinner will be served after Corny-" she coughs - "excuse me, Minister Fudge, gives a short speech."

"Corny?" I murmur.

Amelia Bones ignores me.

I remember my table number from the invitation card. Table Eight.

I slide into an extremely soft seat, just as the Minister climbs up onto the platform.

There are only three other seats. Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones and Neville Longbottom occupy them. We exchange polite greetings, and I lean back, tuning out the whispered conversation between Susan and Hannah.

Whispered, because the Minister is speaking.

He drones on for a good five minutes. Everyone applauds at the end, and menus appear in front of each person.

"How do I order?" I ask Neville, my voice low.

Neville's cheeks color a bit as he meets my gaze for all of a second. "J-just speak. You have to say the name of whatever you want out loud."

I do so. The food is excellent. Susan and Hannah speak to each other, Neville chips in a few times. I remain silent.

Dinner ends, and the Minister takes the stage once more, giving out awards. There are awards for efficiency, dedication, other such stuff. I watch as Lucius Malfoy is given a plaque for charitable works.

It all ends soon enough. Everyone rises and moves to the sides. The tables and chairs disappear, the carpets roll away to reveal a dance floor. A band takes the stage, and strikes up a slow song.

Hannah takes a step towards me. I pretend not to notice and slide away.

"Harry!"

I turn around.

Albus Dumbledore is almost painful to look at, his bright orange and pink robes reflecting the lights overhead. His hat is a bright blue, matching the twinkling eyes. He extends a hand, and I shake it.

"Enjoying the night?" he asks.

No.

"Yes I have, even if it is a bit...tedious."

He chuckles and leans forward. "I confess I myself come only for the food."

I smile. "Dinner was excellent."

"Is Miss Kyle around?"

I shake my head, offering no further information.

He nods, stroking his long beard. "I know a very talented tailor Harry." He waves a hand, gesturing at my robes. "She can make you something, perhaps more festive? Grey is quite dull for Christmas Eve."

"She made your robes?"

He beams, and I get the feeling none of this is an act. Maybe he is actually a warm, eccentric man.

More likely that is one aspect of him. I'm sure the Dumbledore that defeated Grindelwald is in there somewhere too, ready to come out if needed.

"Yes, yes she did. I am most pleased with her work this year, right in the spirit of celebration, don't you think?"

I nod slowly. "They are... colorful."

He laughs, and then grows serious. "Harry, do be careful."

I blink, my face blank. Mismatched eyes meet blue, and the Headmaster hold my gaze.

"It is quite possible that you are drawn into complexities that you do not want to be drawn into. Politics is a dangerous field, and there more than a few predators around."

I nod. "Thank you for the advice, Professor. I'd rather not be drawn into any complexities myself. I'm just going to thank my host and leave."

"Minister Fudge I presume."

I say nothing. Dumbledore polishes his half moon spectacles, his eyes never leaving me. It feels like he's evaluating me.

He comes to a decision, and takes a step forward, coming very close to me. His voice drops slightly.

"It was kind of the Minister to invite you. A little flattery would not go amiss. I hear he's particularly proud of his collection of paintings, especially the one made by Razar the Bored. In fact," he pauses and peers past my shoulder. "I do believe that sculpture bears his features. Now if you'll excuse me Harry, I must take my leave. I have another couple of dinners to attend before the sun rises."

"Thank you," I say. I do not know why Dumbledore is offering me this information, but I'm certain it's true.

Cornelius Fudge is dancing with Amelia Bones. Perfect.

I'm not here for the free food. I'm here for only person - Cornelius Fudge.

I make my way towards him, and wait for the song to end. As soon as Fudge lets her go, I close in.

"Madam Bones, how nice to see you."

Fudge turns around, Madam Bones frowns at me.

"Minister Fudge?" I widen my eyes and take another step forward.

He meets my mismatched eyes, and his own eyes widen. He must have heard of my grey eye, and has recognized me.

"Thank you so much for the invite," I say.

"Harry Potter!" he exclaims, extending a hand.

I shake it. His grip is loose. Madam Bones walks away.

"You're most welcome Harry - may I call you Harry?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, schooling my features into a smile. I nod, and the Minister's face splits into a wide smile.

He tries to move around, angle us so we're facing the cameras around the stage. I'm on the lookout for that, and step away. A flash of irritation shows on his face.

"I'm actually glad I ran into you, Minister, can we talk..." I trail off, glancing to the side.

"Of course, of course."

We walk off the dance floor to the side. I take careful steps, and we walk a tangent.

"It's been a wonderful evening Minister," I tell him, as he picks up a goblet of wine. He gestures towards a glass of juice and I shake my head.

"I've had more than enough, thank you. The atmosphere is amazing. I turn my eyes on the sculpture of Razar the Bored. "The sculptures are brilliant, that's exactly like Razar the Bored."

The Minister follows my line of sight, and a massive smile breaks out on his face. "You know of him?"

"His work is great."

"I have one of his pictures, the Jewel of Avalon," Fudge tells me, his chest swelling.

I widen my eyes at him, then shake my head.

"I don't mean to waste your time, I'm sure as Minister you have many responsibilities. I wouldn't ask you here, but I didn't know when else I would get the opportunity to meet the most important man in Britain..."

I am perhaps, laying it on too thick. But he falls for it. Hook, line, sinker.

"I'm just a little nervous about being reintroduced to the wizarding world. Your aurors keep us safe, but I worry that I may be a target, you understand, being the Minister yourself..."

His head bobs up and down, and he gives me an indulgent smile.

"We're not allowed to use magic over the break, and I was hoping as Minister, you would have the power to release me from the trace. I'd be very careful not to be seen using magic in public. It's just that, if I need to..."

He frowns, and I turn my eyes back onto the sculpture of Razar the Bored. He glances at the sculpture himself, then looks back at me.

"The wizarding world is quite safe, Harry."

"There are always dark elements in a society. I of course, don't believe the nasty rumors about upstanding citizens being former death eaters."

Upstanding is one of the Minister's favorite words, Andromeda assures me. He also used it more than a few times during his speech, and when giving the awards.

His face darkens, and he shakes his head. "That is absolutely horrible."

"Men like Mister Malfoy do so much for our society, they should be allowed to clear themselves in court. Without that opportunity it may always hang over their heads..." the Minister looks thoughtful, and I push on.

"Anyway," I angle myself for the cameras. "Can you help me?" I extend a hand.

Fudge thinks for a second, before grasping the opportunity to get a photo with two hands. Literally.

"Only for you, ."

I could kick myself. I'd forgotten Sally.

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"He refused."

Talia raised her head to look at the mercenary. She rose from her chair, and took a few steps to the side, looking out of the massive windows into the blackness.

"He refused," she echoed.

"He did." Bane walked forward, joining her by the window.

"After all we have done for him..." Talia made a vicious noise at the back of her throat and whirled around to face the man.

"He says it is too much," Bane responded. "He said he would die for me, but he would not destroy a city for me."

"Did you not give him our teachings?"

He nodded. "Barsad has shown him the light."

Her eyes narrowed. Barsad, Bane's second in command. She never did like him, but he was extremely good at his job, so she let him stay.

"Harry was our ace in the hole, the future of the League of Shadows," Talia hissed angrily. "If he is unable to do all that is necessary, then he is no value to us."

"Perhaps it is too early for him," Bane offered. "We should give him more time. He has great potential... I would like to see my investment pay off."

"Why, is that compassion I hear?" Talia raised her eyebrows, her eyes boring into Bane's.

He shifted uncomfortably, opened his mouth to speak...

"It is." Talia stated, then gave a derisive snort. "You love the boy.."

"I do not," Bane firmly rebuffed. "I have spent much time and effort on him. I know he can be of great use to us. He has the skill and brains..."

It was true. He did not love the boy, but he had a tiny, tiny sliver of affection for him. He was Bane's prized possession, a boy he had moulded into a deadly weapon. A boy he had brought up, broken, made, polished.

"Where is the boy's compassion coming from?"

Bane had no answer. He could only think of Selina, but she hardly spoke to Harry, besides sparring with the boy.

Talia was not convinced, but she nodded. "He can live."

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Boxing Day, the 26th of December.

Every year since Bane died, I disappear for this one day. Selina thinks I just take this one day off to be by myself, and doesn't pry. I do have to inform her before leaving though, and let her know if I'll be back for dinner or not.

Traveling takes time. The Knight Bus might be quick, but I've only ridden it once, and I'm in no hurry to experience it again. A bus, a train, and a tube ride later, I finally reach my destination.

It is midday now, and the sky is surprisingly clear, the sun shining down brightly. Despite that, it is very cold, and snow crunches underneath my feet as I walk.

I meet him in the lobby of an old building. Without a word, he turns and leads me to a room, produces a key and unlocks the door. Inside, the apartment is barely furnished. We sit on rickety wooden chairs facing each other across an equally rickety wooden table.

He opens a briefcase, and shows me the contents.

"Wasn't easy," he says. "Here's three sets of ID."

I pick up a passport.

"Jimmy Smith..." I pause and stare at him. "Smith?"

He grins, and I shake my head.

One American passport, two British. Jimmy Smith, Henri Merchant, Harrison Bailey.

"You put beard, disguise. You will look like that -" he hands me four different driving licenses.

I'm too young to pass that off, but there's no harm in having them.

"There are the different sim cards, and three mobile phones." He pauses and moves a few papers around, uncovering another set of passports. "And these are the rest you wanted - for the Catwoman and the girl."

Three sets of ID for each of them. Selina would be thrilled - but I can't show it to her. She'd want to know where I got them from, and that's not a conversation I want to have anytime soon.

I examine the forgeries, and nod, satisfied.

"Good work, thanks." I lean back and take a sip. "What is this..." I reach out, turning the bottle to read the label.

Orange-Carrot. Huh.

"The lady at the store said it is very good," he informs me.

I take another sip. "It's not. Anyway - how are things moving?"

"It is very slow. Very slow."

"And steady?"

He grins again. "Yes, steady. Slow and steady. You remember the story?"

When he told me the story, he put a twist on it. I only heard the original a while later. His version was something along the lines of the hare murdering the tortoise and taking the trophy.

"I do. Any progress with the research?"

"We need to stop," he tells me.

"Why?"

"We will run out of funds. Many of main funds gone, we need time."

"I thought we had extensive funds?"

"Not sustainable."

"You know what that word means?"

He nods solemnly. "I improved my grammar, no?"

"Of course you have. We have the theory, why haven't I seen products so far?"

He shakes his head. "Not so easy. Incomplete schematics, self-destructing disks..."

I shouldn't have expected anything else.

"There are some papers on the progress so far, in the briefcase."

I nod. I'm not going to bother reading them, but he doesn't need to know that.

"Alright. Keep going. Any luck in Gotham?"

"Crime is at an all-time low, but it's picking up. I have... invested, as per your orders."

"How long d'you think it'll take?"

"Maybe one, two years."

"Okay. Let me know who bites."

"I will do so."

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A virtual cookie to anyone who can guess who has been referred to as 'he'. I do hope I haven't miserably failed at trying to keep it for a surprise.

Many thanks to the LaughingMan1, for all his help and ideas.

The first year at Hogwarts will be wrapped up next chapter.