Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

A/N: Hello, and welcome back to the fanfic. This chapter is a continuation of the last, seeing the multiple consequences of Harry's actions.

Also, thank you for your kind words. I am so glad that so many people are eagerly awaiting the continuation of this fic.

On a separate note, who watched the Euro final yesterday? England were doing so well, and then they threw it all away in the second half.

Anyway, on with the story!

Chapter 10: Consequences - Rewards and Punishments

Snape approached the Gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office. 'Sherbet Lemons,' he said, and the stairs revealed themselves. They stood waiting in the atrium, their only company being a phoenix, who Snape revealed to be named Fawkes.

Harry began to sweat. What had gone wrong? But wait, Snape would not be initiating punishment. What was going on?'

The elderly headmaster left his study. 'Ah, Severus. What is it you wish to speak to me about.'

'As you know, we have been unable to find ourselves a seeker in Slytherin,' Snape began. Hah! What a lie! Hang on, that meant… 'I have just witnessed Mr Potter's skill on a broom, and wish to instate him as Seeker. If you see the school rule 285 b13, we are allowed to accept first years if no upper years are available, with the Headmaster's acceptance, of course.'

Dumbledore blinked. 'I can't see why not, as long as Mr Potter will buy him a broom. He cannot use a school broom, after all.'

'I'm sure he will,' Snape drawled. He ushered Harry out, who quickly ran off in the direction of the Owlery.

When he got there, he quickly pulled out some parchment, and called his family owl.

Dear Father and Mother,

How are things going at home? Have you managed to retrieve any more 'assets'?

I wish to report that my plan is going according to, well, plan.

I have also now been able to prove my flying prowess, and am thus on the Quidditch team, as a Seeker.

Could you purchase a broom for me, to be sent before this Sunday? Preferably a Nimbus 2000, for that is a great advantage.

Draco tells me to let you know how hard we are working, and how he is looking forward to Yule.

Hope to see your reply soon,

Harry Potter-Malfoy.

He sealed the letter, and watched as it flew off into the distance. He turned round, and made for the dungeons.

He stopped before the door, and made some slight adjustments through his Metamorphmagus abilities. He grew slightly, and amplified his eyebrows, and darkened his eyes slightly. Setting his expression into a scowl, he looked just slightly more intimidating - especially in his leather jacket.

He burst through the door, sliding into his throne. His cold eyes scanned the room, before settling upon Goyle. He was oblivious, one of three who did not realise who had just entered. He was stuffing himself with cakes, despite being about to go to dinner. Harry sighed with disgust.

'Goyle,' he said, voice cold and even. The boy jumped. 'Goyle, can you tell me what my policy is on fights?'

Mouth full of crumbs, he let out a mumble of 'Don't start 'em.'

'That's right,' Harry replied. 'And you started one. Will you come and accept the punishment, or not.'

Goyle leapt up. 'I did nuthin wrong! I don't deserve no punishment!'

Harry sighed. He lunged towards the boy, gripping his lower jaw. He extracted a sickening yellow vial from his pocket, and messily forced the contents down the larger boy's throat. He really needed to work on Nott's idea.

Goyle stepped back, frowning. 'I don't' feel no diffent!'. Then his stomach gave out a growl.

'That potion,' Harry smirked, 'is a cruel concoction. You will feel perpetually hungry till lunchtime tomorrow, always starving no matter how much you eat. And you cannot taste anything, either. You cannot enjoy the food, and you are always hungry. Anyone who has ever been starved half to death can imagine just how cruel this potion will be. I mean, no one here will know, but you can watch the effects.' He turned back to Goyle. 'I trust you will see the error in your ways.' Goyle's mouth dropped. His stomach growled again. He scoffed down a cake. His eyes widened.

Harry stood back, grinning a dark smile. 'And now, it is time for dinner. You too, Goyle.' If possible, Goyle's face sank even deeper.

As one, the proud Slytherins strode into the Great Hall, Harry at the front, cloak swaying. He slid into his usual seat, and began to pick out his food.

'So,' he began, when his friends had met with him. 'What did you think of Quirrell?'

'Quirrell?' Draco asked, frowning. 'Pretty incompetent. You just cannot understand the man, with his stutter and all.'

'Mm,' Daphne said, nodding. 'I'm not even sure he actually knows what he is teaching.'

'Well, there is that,' I agreed. 'But I'm talking about him, not his teaching. Something's up.'

Theo snorted. 'That'd be the garlic, Harry.'

Harry sighed, irritated by the incompetence of even the more intelligent of his peers. 'The garlic is odd, but that's simply irrelevant! I'm talking about his stutter.'

'Aaand..' Pansy drawled. 'That's because of the vampires.'

Draco snorted. 'I've learnt the hard way not to contradict Harry.'

Harry glowered at him, before continuing. 'The stutter is not dependent on his fear. He stutters constantly, even when there aren't even vampires mentioned. Thus, it is not a product of shock. It is also inconsistent - he changes what he stutters. As such, it is not a speech impediment. From this, even an imbecile can see it is faked. The only reason is why?' He looked at his followers expectantly.

Draco sighed. 'You are going to contradict me in any way possible, but you won't tell us till one of us guess the answer.'

'Correct.'

'So, let's say you are right, which you probably are. I guess he would want to look inconspicuous, so… ministry spy?'

Predictably, Harry snorted. 'Wrong direction. If the ministry needed a spy, they would send an auror, and they wouldn't be a secret. He is a spy, though. From someone other than the ministry, whose name may perchance begin with a 'V'.'

It took a moment, but recognition dawned on Tracey's face. 'You-know-who? No, you're wrong. You must be wrong.'

Harry sighed. 'A man is spying at the ministry, and is an enemy of the ministry. The spy has a consistent stutter on my name, meaning that it is genuine, and it is only for my name, not other H's, suggesting that it is a stutter out of fear - fear of me. Who fears me, hates the ministry and could do with a spy in Hogwarts, in the year I join?'

Draco gaped. Tracey looked faint. Pansy grew pale. Daphne's eyes widened.

'Y-y-you can't be sure,' the latter said. 'It could just be a new Dark Lord.'

Harry scoffed. 'You would have seen the signs. Something like the NSDAP, or the Knights of Walpurgis would have risen up. They haven't. It is Voldemort. Finite.'

Draco looked sullen. Pansy went to speak up, but was interrupted by Dumbledore's voice calling out across the hall. 'May I have your attention, students.'

Once all had turned to face him, the old wizard continued. 'Today, one of our staff has left us. After many years of service, Professor Binns has passed beyond the veil.' There was a gasp of astonishment that rippled through the students. 'I know many believed he would always be here, but some ghosts do grow weary of this world. We are currently looking for a replacement.' The man sat back down, and the hall broke into thunderous conversation.

Draco looked shrewdly at Harry. 'You had something to do with this, didn't you.'

'Yes,' he replied plainly. 'The man was single-handedly ruining many students' education. I used a potion of my own invention to force him beyond the veil to Erebus. It would have been, however, extremely painful.'

Theo looked slightly sick at that idea. Shaking his head, he quickly changed the topic. 'Goyle's definitely not enjoying himself.'

Harry turned around to look at the unfortunate boy. He was shaking, and pale, and was almost constantly shovelling food into his mouth. 'Well, it's working. Hopefully that will put off other rebellions.'

'Oh, Harry,' Draco said suddenly, only just remembering what it was he had wanted to ask. 'What happened with Snape after the flying lessons? Just you seemed to be in a bad mood.'

'Ha!' Harry scoffed. 'You really underestimate my abilities in acting. No, he took me to see Dumbledore.'

'What!' Daphne exclaimed, clearly unable to see why that was a positive thing.

'Yeah, and then he manipulated the school rules to put me on the Quidditch team.'

Draco sighed, face palming. 'And here I thought you would have to wait a year. I'm guessing you are a seeker. Any way to get me in, too?'

Harry smirked. 'Sorry little bro. You can only get in if there are no other available Chasers, and we have a full team. It was only a seeker they were 'unable' to find.'

Daphne frowned. 'You told Nott that yesterday, that he shouldn't take on a seeker. Were you planning this?'

Harry smirked again. 'Of course, oh ye of little faith. I had little idea of how to showcase my ability, but Goyle solved that problem with his stupidity.'

Draco sulked. 'Show off,' he muttered.

Later on in the meal, Harry suddenly perked up. 'I've got it!' he exclaimed suddenly. He jumped to his feet, sprinting to the door to the corridor, oblivious to the stares he was receiving from his fellow students.

Hastily setting his brewing equipment, he started brewing one of the easiest, non harmful potions he knew - the Cheering Potion.

Upon its development into the full potion, he poured the mixture onto a small dish, heating it with an Incendio charm. The potion slowly bubbled away, leaving behind a pile of small, yellow crystals. Salt crystals.

He gathered them up, and placed them in a small, hastily transfigured wooden box, complete with a snap shut lid.

Flipping it open, he proceeded to inhale the fumes released, and broke into a smile, followed by a giggle, followed by a snort. Yep, that worked.

He spent the following hour compiling several potions, ranging from pain, to poison to revival, all condensed into a salt form. He also took time to analyse his own blood, and found that the potion fumes left no residue within his cells, like normal potions and spells. With a deadly poison in salt form, he could be rid of anyone he wanted, and nobody would be able to tell how it was done.

Soon after, Harry returned to his throne, seemingly waiting for someone. Indeed, that was exactly what he was doing.

In the meantime, he watched the ashen Goyle, squirming on the floor, racked by hunger pangs. Ah, revenge was oh so very satisfying.

Some time after he had sat down, he was joined by a grovelling Flint, still stuttering. 'M-m-my l-l-lord, I have been approached by Professor Snape.'

Harry raised an eyebrow. 'Indeed?'

Flint stood slightly closer, hunched over in fear. 'Y-y-yes, m-m-my lord. He has t-t-told me that you are to be S-s-seeker, and that I am to s-s-step down from Captaincy in p-p-private.'

Harry smirked. 'He is indeed correct.' He stood up to address the gathering of Slytherins. 'I am to be the youngest ever Seeker, and, at least in private, the youngest ever Captain. When, Flint, is the first game again?'

'N-n-next weekend, m-m-my lord.'

Harry smirked a cold smile. 'All Slytherin games will now be compulsory. You are all to show up, to show how, ah, united we are. Now, I have business to attend to. Draco, Daphne. Follow me.'

The trio marched as one out of the hall, leaving behind the silent common room. They were passing the library, a good ten minutes walk from the Slytherin dorms, when Draco finally spoke.

'So, what are we actually doing here?'

Harry turned to him and smirked. 'We are going to pay a certain Dark Wizard a visit.'

For a moment, his accomplices frowned, before a burst of incredulity and realization replaced the confusion.

'Quirrell?' Daphne cried, eyes wide.

Harry smirked, before twirling his hand around in a slightly odd gesture. As he did so, a cold feeling settled upon the group, as if they had been cloaked in shadow. If they did not try to, it was now almost impossible to see one another. They had been disillusioned.

Of course, the gesture was completely unnecessary, and was simply a display of power.

Gesturing with his right hand, Harry snuck along the corridor, sticking to the edge with a practiced stealth. He pulled two items from his pockets, but both were obscured by the effects of Disillusionism.

They found their way to the doorway of DADA, where Harry crouched down, just adjacent to the doorway.

He turned back to his companions. 'Here's the plan,' he whispered. 'You two go in, and ask for some advice on your essay, or something. I will dispel your disillusion, and follow in afterwards.'

'What?' Daphne hissed. 'You dragged us across the school for this?'

'Yes,' Harry replied coolly. 'You are quick-witted and good at improvising, and Draco's Firebending will come in handy. Besides, I need a diversion. As a spy, he will be on the constant look out for disillusions. With you distracting him, I can sneak in. Got it? Good.'

Without waiting for a reply, he dropped the disillusion, and kicked his two allies in front of the door. He watched as they strolled in, and listened carefully to their conversation.

'Professor Quirrell,' Daphne began. 'I was wondering if you could help me and Draco on part of the essay.'

Quirrell did not reply immediately. 'O-o-of course, my d-d-dear. What is it th-th-that you n-n-need?'

'Well, we were researching examples to use, and were a little confused as to why the Gemini spell is sometimes a charm, and sometimes a curse. Can you explain?'

'Y-yes, o-of course.' He then went into an in depth explanation of how it had two main uses, one for practicality and one for pain, and how that defined the spell.

Taking the opportunity, Harry crept slowly in, carefully ensuring that no attention was drawn to him. He analysed Daphne's expression, and was pleased to see that she too was unaware of his presence.

With this bonus, he could revise his plan. Focussing on the second animal he had been practicing, he felt his body contort and shrink, until he was in the easily concealable form of a rat.

Twitching his nose to gain a better layout of the room, he scurried behind the bookcase, climbing until he found himself positioned directly behind the Professor.

'W-w-well,' Quirrell was explaining. 'It's m-m-more about what the intent is. If a s-s-spell does harm, it is a c-c-curse, jinx or h-h-hex, depending on the severity. Is that all?'

Daphne didn't miss a beat. 'But what about the Gemini Curse. It is sometimes a charm.'

'Well…' Quirrell began, but he didn't have a chance to reply.

Harry leapt off of the shelf, reverting to human form and dispelling the dissolution as he fell, tackling Quirrell to the floor.

'H-h-harry?' Quirrell stuttered, hand fumbling for the wand that had been knocked to the floor.

'Hello, Professor,' Harry said, smirking. 'Do you prefer Riddle, or Quirrelmort?'

Quirrell's eyes widened. 'I-I-I th-th-think you m-m-must be m-m-mistaken, m-m-my b-b-boy.'

Harry's smile hardened, his eyes grew cold. 'I do not think so, Tom. You see, my friends here were a distraction.' With that, he gripped his hand around the turban, tugging it off.

A new voice spoke, groaning. 'Harry Potter. We meet at last.'

'Indeed we do, Tom,' Harry said, voice calm and even. 'Why are you here? To kill me?'

Voldemort, reduced to a face on the back of Quirrell's head, chuckled. 'Eventually. But first, I have come to retrieve something. But alas, I have been bested.'

'Indeed,' Harry replied coolly. 'I suspect you expect me to turn you in, or kill you. I won't.'

Quirrell fainted. Tom frowned. 'Why?'

'I have been raised a pureblood, and can see the merit to your cause,' Harry explained. 'Not all of it - it is power that matters, not blood. We are both half-bloods, after all.'

Tom's eyes widened. 'Do not soil my name!' he hissed.

'Muggles are also not animals,' Harry continued. 'Inferior, yes, but reasonably powerful. Servants, workers, but not animals.'

Tom sneered. 'You expect me to believe that?'

'Yes. What are you seeking?'

Tom sighed. 'I suppose the game is up. The Philosopher's stone.' Ah.

'Where is it?'

Tom frowned. 'Somewhere under the school. I do not yet know.'

Harry smiled. 'When you do, tell me. You are going to steal it for me.'

Tom's eyes widened again. 'And why would I do that for you?'

Harry smirked. 'Everyone sees me as the Golden Child. I'm your best chance of success. Besides…' Harry lunged forwards with a vile in hand, and forced it down Voldemort's throat. 'You now have an incentive.'

Tom spluttered with rage. 'What was that?'

Draco spoke up for the first time. 'A potion of his own invention.'

Harry smirked again. 'Indeed. I called it the Bonding Potion. Your life force is now bonded to my will. Disobey me and, well…' he turned to Daphne.

Face calm as ever, she finished the sentence. 'Boom.'

Riddle frowned, and his eyes gradually widened. 'I suppose you want me to stay undercover. And you want to seem like the golden boy.' Harry nodded. 'Well, your order shall be followed.'

Harry was smirking as they left, disillusioned once more.

'Harry?' Daphne's voice came, feeble. 'Do you really intend for Voldemort to regain control.'

'Of course not,' Harry scoffed. 'He will be a puppet villain. By the time I am done with him, the Ministry will practically be handed to me. And it will be glorious.

A/N: Quidditch and Voldemort as a slave? Whatever shall happen now? :D

As always, please review, with advice, criticism, OCs and plot bunnies.

See you all next week!

By-ye!