Lux in Tenebris Lucet was my first foray into FEAR fanfic, a crossover with Harry Potter. The original version went well, until a reviewer pointed out that it cheapened Harry's achievements. While this was far from the point of the story, I did go back, and look at the story, and reworked it significantly to become Lux in Tenebris Lucet: Renovatur. I eventually decided, having archived my abandoned Harry Potter fics in The Cauldron, to do the same to the original version of Lux in Tenebris Lucet. People will notice that I reworked the opening scene for Henry Ashford and the Goblet of Fire.


LUX IN TENEBRIS LUCET (ORIGINAL VERSION)

CHAPTER 1:

THE FIFTH CHAMPION

There were few people alive today who understood the true nature of the Goblet of Fire. Indeed, even amongst the Unspeakables, there were few. Of those currently present in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, only Albus Dumbledore could be said to have anywhere near that kind of understanding, and he would be the first to admit that his understanding of the Goblet's true nature was limited.

However, the Goblet of Fire was…intelligent. Aware, even.

It would be hard to define what sort of intelligence it was. Perhaps the closest analogy had only come around relatively recently. Magic often did things that, before the advent of the Industrial Revolution, would have been considered impossible. Flight, transport at astounding speeds, instant light without the need for firemaking, and more. But although they didn't call it such, the ancient wizards and witches all but created artificial intelligences and artificial sentiences. The famed Sorting Hat of Hogwarts was one such example.

The Goblet of Fire was perhaps not truly sentient, or even truly intelligent. But there was a basic awareness and intelligence within it. And it knew, on at least one level, that it had been tricked. It was unable to do anything, of course. The spell that had been cast on it prevented it from refusing to expelling the name it was going to be forced to expel.

But there was something it could do.

The name it was forced to accept was a name bound by fate to many people. But there was one whose binding was stronger than most. Not only that, but that name was associated with a being of such power, that if the Goblet was capable of feeling fear, it would be shivering. But it was incapable of feeling fear. It could see the darkness around this being, but it saw the light in the darkness, connected to the fourth name.

The Goblet made its decision. And having done so, it reached out with its magic…


Barty Crouch Junior fought hard to keep the smile off his face. It took every ounce of both his Occlumency training and his acting ability to keep up the appearance that he was Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody. But he knew that the first step to bringing back his lord and master, as well as bringing about the downfall of the Boy Who Lived, otherwise known as Harry Potter.

Barty had to admit, he was enjoying this role he was playing. He had once entertained ambitions of being an actor(1), before the disapproval of his father, amongst other factors, scuppered them. One of the biggest regrets in a life populated by them. But not now. He was serving his master, Lord Voldemort, and playing a key role in this long game that would bring his master back to his full powers.

To actually teach these students was surprisingly pleasing too. Perhaps being a teacher was a calling he should have considered. Yet another what-could-have-been he had to dismiss. But even so, teaching these children how to recognise and avoid the Unforgivable Curses held a strange satisfaction to it, even if one of his students was Harry Potter. But the boy was strong, and he could see why Voldemort viewed the boy with concern.

Of course, there were side-benefits. Demonstrating the Cruciatus curse in front of that near-Squib Longbottom had a perverse amusement. Barty hadn't participated as much as the Lestranges had in torturing the boy's parents, and to tell the truth, that had made him feel ill. He would use Crucio on someone he truly hated, to be sure, like his father, and he would use it for interrogation. But the Lestranges just did it out of sheer sadistic enjoyment. Even so, seeing Longbottom's face after he had stopped using the Cruciatus curse was amusing. He was no Harry Potter. A weak near-Squib who seemed to prefer pottering around in gardens. Barty sneered inwardly.

But now, the stage was set, the players were in position, as were the props. And Barty was directing it. A strong Confundus on the Goblet, along with a few other charms and spells, and it accepted the name of Harry Potter. He would become the fourth champion of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Barty smiled inwardly. He knew that this would isolate Harry. The Wizarding World was a fickle thing, liable to turn on its so-called heroes in an instant. Look at his own father: in the aftermath of Barty Junior's trial, and his apparent demise (and the actual demise of his mother), public opinion, once nearly sending him to the Minister of Magic, sucked him down like an unfortunate into quicksand. Of course, Muggles were no different. Barty, unlike many of his comrades in the Death Eaters, knew much about the Muggle world. He hated them all the same, along with the weak of the Wizarding World. Only the strong were fit to survive. And the Muggles, for all their technology, could be dealt with easily. After all, what good were nuclear weapons when you could use the Imperius curse on the ones who had the authority to launch them? Or an Obliviate? Or use Legilimency to determine the codes?

He looked at the occupants of the Great Hall, noting the more prominent ones. There was Potter and his friends at the table. The blood-traitor Ron Weasley, stuffing his face, and the Mudblood Hermione Granger, a precocious little bitch who nonetheless had quite a lot of intelligence. A shame she wasn't born to a Pureblood family. And then there were all the children of the cowards at the Slytherin table, led by Draco Malfoy. Blond ferret, he snickered.

And there were two cowards present in the Great Hall too. Karkaroff, the stool pigeon (to use the Muggle term) and Snape, who seemed to serve two masters. He had no doubt that Snape would run back to Voldemort once his master arose again, but Karkaroff would merely run away. Karkaroff certainly avoided him a lot, though that was due to the Polyjuice potion disguise of Mad-Eye Moody, the man who had arrested him in the first place.

And then there were the teachers. Some fools, others dangerous fools, and others, just dangerous. Voldemort had coached him on who to be especially careful with. And, of course, speaking of fools, there was his Imperiused father, and that idiot Bagman.

It was heartening to Barty that he was kept in the Dark Lord's confidence. He was one of the few Death Eaters who knew of Voldemort's true parentage(2). Barty accepted this with surprising ease: Voldemort's experience with being a Halfblood proved that relationships between Muggles and Magicals didn't work. And Voldemort was powerful anyway. And, of course, there was the shared experience of having a disappointing father.

Barty didn't truly buy into the whole blood purity thing. Rather, it was about power. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it, his master had said on many an occasion. The power to bring the Magical World to the supremacy it so richly deserved, and to sweep away the detritus in the way. The Mudbloods, Halfbloods and blood-traitors, all would be put to use in the new order, or would be destroyed to make way for the new hierarchy, the true hierarchy.

He smiled inwardly again when the time arrived for the Goblet to begin spitting out names. That old fool Dumbledore caught the first parchment that wafted out. Viktor Krum was announced as the Champion for Durmstrang. Not surprising, given that he was a renowned Quidditch player, already playing for Bulgaria in the World Cup not so long ago.

The next name was that of the champion for Beauxbatons. It turned out to be that Veela half-breed, Fleur Delacour. Snooty little cow, he thought.

And then, the champion for Hogwarts. Cedric Diggory. A Hufflepuff, of all things. Then again, it didn't do well to dismiss them. Of course, he was, for the moment, irrelevant.

Now the time had come to play his part. He faked a look of surprise as the Goblet flared once more, while Dumbledore was in the middle of a speech, and spat out a parchment that the old fool caught, and read out the name.

"Harry Potter."

The reaction was interesting. Barty had been expecting instant pandemonium, but instead, it was more of a lower-key reaction at first, murmurings and whisperings amongst the various students. Harry was nudged by the Mudblood, as he was sitting, in a daze. He had not been expecting that. But then again, the others wouldn't give a damn. They'd think he was a glory hound regardless. The entirety of the Wizarding World had chronic allergies to thinking. He noted that Weasley was staring at his friend incredulously, even enviously.

Suddenly, Barty saw the Goblet flare red again. What the hell was this? he thought. I didn't want it to produce a fifth name. Shit, maybe I Confunded it too much.

Dumbledore caught the parchment, and stared at it. Barty did so too. Unlike the parchment of the other entrants, this…looked different. Blood-stained, almost like skin flayed off a corpse. The writing was untidy, too, almost as if it had congealed rather than being written.

But the name on it was clear. And Dumbledore, uncertainly, said, "Alma Wade?"

Who the fuck is Alma Wade? Barty thought irritably.

Unfortunately for Barty, it was a question he was about to get answered very soon…


On the other side of the world, Harlan Wade was a very nervous man. After all, Project Origin was about to enter its next stage: impregnating the psychic forebear to create the prototype for a psychic test soldier. That, and the fact that said test subject was his own daughter. He had long since inured himself to the experimental procedures placed upon his daughter. He didn't even care that, as part of his genes were going to be part of the artificial zygote put into her, he was effectively committing incest by proxy. He wanted to be at the vanguard of psychic soldier creation.

Oh, he had some small part of him that refused to be silenced. A niggling part of him that was technically a conscience, but he could ignore that.

And it was Halloween, which had some people spooked. He was a little nervous because of that, but dismissed that as a vestige of superstition.

There was a camera feed from within the Vault that contained her, a large life-support tank that kept her alive, and in an induced coma. At least in theory. But on occasion, there were spikes of unusual activity. He looked at her, filled with both pity and revulsion. Her naked body had wasted away for the seven years she had been kept in the tank, tubes violating her body to bring her nutrients and remove her waste. Her mouth was open, breathing in the thick, drug-laden oxygenated liquid that sustained her existence, but kept her comatose.

She was now fifteen. And the time was now right to use her for their purposes.

Or at least that was the plan.

Suddenly, blue and red fire seemed to play around her body. Except…that shouldn't be possible within a liquid. Panic gripped Harlan Wade's heart. Were her powers awakening again? Had Alma somehow sensed their intent, and was trying to stop them?

It would have been little consolation to him to know that Alma had little to do with it. Because as Alma disappeared from the Vault, and her liquid-filled tomb, a blast of energy washed outward, devastating the Origin Facility and killing many of those within, including Harlan Wade.

Armacham would never really recover, at least as far as Project Origin was concerned. Which was, in the end, all for the better.


Harry Potter was stunned. It was already unbelievable enough that his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. He had considered entering, yes, but to actually end up when he hadn't entered was another matter entirely. He felt acutely the gazes of everyone, particularly Ron, whom he could see the embers of envy smouldering. He had begun to talk towards the Great Table, where Dumbledore was waiting.

But then, the Goblet flared red again. Another champion?! Maybe it was a symptom that the damned thing had gone haywire. He thought there was something wrong with the parchment that Dumbledore had caught. But he wasn't expecting the name Dumbledore hesitantly spoke.

"Alma Wade?"

Harry's eyes widened. No! It can't be!

Suddenly, on the floor in front of the Goblet, fire seemed to erupt. Like the fires of the Goblet, blue and red, with a strange, eye-tugging orange mixed in, rippling and warping around the area like water. A shape began to form, a human shape.

Then, the searing light faded, and someone was left on the floor of the Great Hall. A naked girl, perhaps fourteen or fifteen, with long black hair, emaciated, and skin as grey as a corpse. Tubing inserted intimately into her body oozed vile liquids, severed from whatever apparatus they had been connected to.

For a moment, she seemed dead. Then, she convulsed, liquid gushing from her mouth. She tried to inhale, only to choke out more liquid.

Dumbledore and Harry reached the girl almost simultaneously. Harry whipped off his outer robes and draped them over the girl. Dumbledore, meanwhile, carefully turned the girl onto her side, allowing her to cough up more of the liquid that had once sustained her.

In both of their eyes was recognition.

Already, the murmurs had started anew, mixed in with horror, disgust, and fear.

The girl finished coughing up the liquid. Then, her eyes flickered open. Few saw those eyes at the time. But few would forget them. Bright orange, glowing eerily. They shut again, squeezed in agony, before re-opening, and focusing on Harry.

The face was impassive, like a mask. But the eyes danced with something. Only Harry heard her speak, for she did so directly into his mind, as they had always done over the past seven years. Harry…it is you. Why am I here?

"I don't know, Alma," he said quietly. "But…I'm glad you're here."

CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:

So, here it is. The first chapter of a fanfic that is going to be pretty screwed up. But, I hope, in a good way.

I didn't want to basically rewrite the chapter involving the Goblet spitting out names from Harry's point of view, so I decided to try something different. I dunno how many fanfics do it from Barty Crouch Junior's point of view, but I thought it'd be interesting to explore his motives, and fill in a few bits here and there. Although my portrayal of Crouch not buying into the blood purity nonsense is not necessarily canon, it'd be interesting to think how many Death Eaters didn't give a crap about blood purity, and acknowledged that it was all about power. It was partly because this Barty, I decided, knew about Voldemort's heritage.

I also wrote in Barty's relative lack of sadism to reflect his behaviour in court. I don't doubt that sadists would have reacted the way he would have in court, but I got the feeling that, at times, Barty was more of a tag-along to the Lestranges. He's still a nasty piece of work, but the Lestranges, especially Bellatrix, are on a whole new level.

I decided to have Alma appear during the Goblet of Fire simply because it's at a pivotal time in Harry's life. More than one fanfic begins here, I've noticed. I've also noticed that in some cases, the Goblet has extraordinary powers. I've read at least one fanfic where it snatches Harry from another dimension.

Now, I'll address some possible timeline issues here. Alma was born in August 1979. The Goblet of Fire drawing is on the 31st of October 1994. Now, Alma is said to give birth to the Point Man when she is 15, so that technically means that she could have been impregnated while she was only 15 and a couple of months old (and thus give birth at 15 years and 11 months old). Actually, considering what horror she inflicts, artificially inseminating her on Halloween seems like Armacham were trying to be ironic, or else trying to ignore the irony. Of course, that's daring the universe to kick you in the nuts.

Now, the story is going to jump around a bit in time. Alma has been a presence in Harry's life before Hogwarts, ever since she was put into the Vault. We will be seeing highlights of that time both in the next chapter, and future chapters. I'm considering between every second chapter being a flashback one.

1. Barty's imitation of Mad-Eye was so good, it fooled Dumbledore, an old friend of Moody's. I put this in as a partial explanation.

2. It's implied, though not stated, that Barty Crouch Junior knows that Voldemort is a Halfblood. The statements as mentioned in the book are still ambiguous, so Voldemort could have left that detail out, but here, I've confirmed it. Why would Voldemort divulge such a thing? Simple. Voldemort, for all his being a batshit crazy psychopath, is good at reading people. Helps if you're good at Legilimency, obviously. It's part of the reason why I wrote Barty as knowing more about Muggles, but holding them in contempt anyway. Barty respects Voldemort's power, and he's also treated as a favoured son by the Dark Lord, something he never got from his own father.