A/N: Thanks for the reviews, everyone! It's been a little bit since I last updated and the updates may slow down for a bit for I'll be going on a little Harry Potter escapade with my cousin! Anyway, I like to call this chapter 'comic relief' because I feel as though it's a little too serious thus far! Therefore, I hope everybody finds this chapter as fun as I had writing it! Tell me what ya think, Read & Review :)

Disclaimer: Not only is Harry Potter refernced in this chapter, but I must also pay tribute to a lovely show known as Family Guy, which inspired a few lines later in the chapter :)

Chapter 5

The next month passed in relative uneventfulness. Harry had managed to avoid being alone with Liz knowing if they were together, he'd let it slip that Riddle had been secretly meeting with the most feared Dark wizard of the age. He would still wave to her before class began and discuss simple subjects like homework and the weather, but he managed to always come up with an excuse to avoid meeting her alone in the library for an extended period of time.

Harry couldn't believe he hadn't figured it out earlier, that Riddle was tied to Grindelwald. It only made sense he would be, Riddle being so interested in the Dark Arts, and Grindelwald being a powerful wizard intending to enslave the Muggles. But what Harry couldn't figure out was how Riddle could have so much power over someone who had been deemed so almighty, who everyone in the school and country alike seemed to fear.

Harry wanted nothing more than to discuss his findings and theories with Ron and Hermione, but he knew that neither of them had any training in Occulmency and Riddle would surely find out if he let it slip to them what was going on. Riddle had pretended as though no private conversation had occurred between Harry and himself. Harry only watched as he continued to exhibit episodes of bitter disapproval and anger with every new edition of the Daily Prophet indicating Grindelwald's forces had suffered continued losses. His cronies seemed to all be under the impression that he was just merely in support of Grindelwald seeing as they shared similar ideologies, but remained entirely clueless to the fact that Riddle was indirectly in charge of the forces' actions.

Momentarily, though, Harry found some content in the upcoming Quidditch match with Slytherin challenging Ravenclaw, the defending runners up to the Quidditch House Cup. Apparently, Riddle had a bitter rivalries with the Captain and Seeker of the team, both of whom were women he'd previously toyed with years ago. Riddle only found this humorous whenever Malfoy brought it up. Even Ron had begun to joke around with the team, acting as a bunch of jocks who felt like they ruled the school. Hermione, however, disapproved, and took to complaining to Harry throughout the practices.

"Ron is acting like a fool," she started in on one of her rants, "He thinks he's all high and mighty, hanging with that terrible group. It's going to his head."

"Mhmm," murmured Harry, not truly listening but rather trying to figure out how he could speak to Liz without her reacting rashly and getting them both killed.

"I mean I heard him joking around with Malfoy and Riddle the other day, talking about using some girl on the other team in order to weaken their offense. It's disgusting!"

"It sure is, Hermione," answered Harry. The overcast day had suddenly begun unleashing gallons of rain upon their heads, but the group below in the stadium continued practicing.

"Come on, Harry, let's go inside," said Hermione. Hermione got up and descended the stands with Harry following.

"Hermione, can I ask you something?" wondered Harry as they entered the castle.

"Sure, what is it?"

"If I told you something could you keep it a secret…I mean from say someone who can see into your mind?"

"Like Riddle? You're wondering if I could hide something from him?" asked Hermione skeptically, "Why? What do you want to hide from him, Harry? What do you know?"

"Nothing, I mean…something, okay…it's just…he knows I know and he threatened me."

"What? Harry, you must tell me," said Hermione, her voice dripping with worry.

"Only if you can hide it from Riddle."

"I've practiced some Occulmency, Harry. I figured when Dumbledore wanted you to learn it, it may benefit me and Ron to learn it as well. Ron, however, didn't feel it necessary, but I did some self practices, and I think if I have to, I may be able to block him out at least on the surface."

"Ok, well, I caught Riddle talking to…well…Grindelwald," said Harry as they entered the empty Common Room.

"What? How?"

"Floo Network" replied Harry, "It was about a month ago, and I heard voices late at night in the Common Room. Riddle was yelling at Grindelwald, criticizing his actions in Scotland, and giving him commands. Grindelwald kept calling him 'my Lord' and everything. He, however, knew I was there, and let me hear what was going on, and then, after Grindelwald had left, he called me in. That's when he threatened me."

"Harry, this is very serious," frowned Hermione, "We have to tell someone. We have to tell Dumbledore."

"Hermione, no! You know what Riddle's capable of!"

"I do know, and it's all the more reason to tell Dumbledore before people get hurt!"

"Please, Hermione, just hold off on that for a little while longer. I want to get more information on his motives for meddling with Grindelwald. Anyway, we both know how this ends for Grindelwald. Dumbledore defeats him."

"I almost forgot entirely about that, Harry," said Hermione, "Maybe you're right, then. Riddle obviously doesn't come into power because Grindelwald doesn't. Maybe we don't have anything to worry about after all." Just then the portrait entrance of the Common Room opened, revealing the group of sopping wet boys all laughing.

"There you guys are!" laughed Ron, walking over to the pair as the other boys headed off to their dorms to change.

"Yes, Ron, here we are," Hermione was wearing a sour face as though he had betrayed them by laughing with a group of Slytherins, specifically Riddle who was threatening Harry's life…again.

"Woah! What's up with you?" Ron's smile had faded and he was turning red in the ears.

"You're what's wrong with me, Ron! You just keep getting closer and closer to those evil Slytherins, sucking up to them so you can be part of their horrible, womanizing jock group!" Harry suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable and was relieved when he looked around to find the Common Room empty as the other team members were changing and everyone else was at dinner in the Great Hall.

"I'm doing what we planned, Hermione! I'm getting closer to them! Isn't that what you wanted!" yelled Ron, now the lovely shade of maroon resembling his Christmas sweaters by Mrs. Weasley, something he wouldn't be receiving this year.

"You are not! You're just trying to become popular, Ron! You've contributed nothing and now Harry's in great danger and you're just running around with them, as though they're as innocent as flobberworms!"

"Hermione, you're getting really loud," said Harry, deciding to interfere, "They'll be coming down any minute now."

"Oh butt out of it, Harry!" sneered Ron, "I'm sure you're going to side with her aren't you!"

"What? Ron, chill out! I'm just trying to make…"

"You're just jealous, Harry! Jealous that I'm more popular than for you once, more popular than famous Harry Pott…"

"Ron!" interrupted Hermione, turning pinking and glancing around to ensure they actually were alone.

"You know what, Ron? Hermione is right," screamed Harry, finally losing his temper, "You're turning into some bigheaded jock just because you can stay on your broomstick and flail your arms around in front of a couple of hoops. Might as well go off and join the Death Eaters while you're getting so damn cozy with their leader!"

Ron's face jaw dropped as though to respond, his face turning a shade of purple Harry had never seen on his best…former friend. However, Malfoy had come running down the stairs wearing much drier clothing. He caught eye of the three and immediately stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and looking uncomfortable.

"Yeah, just peachy," said Harry, "Come on, Hermione, let's go to the library." He made his way over to the portrait hole, making sure to ram his shoulder into Ron's as he passed. Hermione followed, angry tears in her eyes.

"I can't believe him!" Hermione said for the third time as they sat in the library working on essays about Ensnaring Potions for Professor Slughorn.

"I know, Hermione," responded Harry, yet again, "I'm actually hoping Ravenclaw wins the Quidditch match, just so Ron's head deflates a little."

Hermione responded with a slight chuckle before returning to her essay which was growing in length and approaching four feet of parchment.

The day of the Quidditch match soon approached and the Slytherin Common Room was buzzing with excitement. Everyone in the Common Room was running around with little flags that seemed to hiss like a snake whenever waved. A few of the sixth years had conjured a giant green banner that depicted small snakes contorted into letters to spell out each of the players names. As much as the Slytherins were pumped for the match, the rest of the school was ruefully against the bunch. The Gryffindors were decked out in Ravenclaw blue and let out a raucous of "boos" every time a member of the Slytherin team entered the Great Hall. One of the beaters, a fifth year that Harry believed was Macnair, made a rude gesture to the entire Gryffindor table, earning himself a detention from Professor Binns (a living Professor Binns) who had been walking in behind him. Thus, animosity between the groups was at an all time high, and to Harry's pleasure, Ron was a bitter shade of green as he sat down five seats from Hermione and himself, between Malfoy and Lestrange. Riddle had yet to appear.

"Ron! Eat some toast or something. You look positively dreadful!" said Malfoy, sounding slightly worried at the appearance of his new Keeper.

"Erm," responded Ron, looking as though he was scared to open his mouth too wide.

"Where's Tom?" asked the newest Chaser, Xavier Montague, a fifth year, scanning the Great Hall for the Head Boy, "The whole team is here 'cept him."

"Tom never comes down for breakfast before a match. Hasn't been to one in the four years he's been on the team," answered Malfoy, "It's probably on the safe side. I could see him cursing half the Gryffindors if they booed at him, and as amusing as that would be, I would hate to lose a Seeker before a match like this!"

Half an hour later, the Slytherin team departed to the Quidditch stadium, and minutes later, the entire school was taking the stroll, flags and banner in hand, to the crowded pitch. That is, everyone but Harry and Hermione. The two had decided to remain in the Common Room, catching on up on their Astronomy tables and practicing their latest Transfiguration task, wordlessly changing large objects such as desks and chairs into miniscule things such as buttons and thimbles. As much as Harry enjoyed watching Quidditch, he couldn't bare to watch Ron, whether he succeeded or failed. Hermione had felt the same way for she too had only barely resisted jinxing Ron every time she laid eyes on him. The sting of his betrayal and apparent ignorance of the pair's existence had struck a last nerve with Harry and Hermione, and, consequently, they had grown apart from the fellow seventh year Slytherins over the past three weeks, creating their own isolated group containing two people.

Their isolation had worried Harry quite a bit. As they spent fewer and fewer moments with the group, Harry was finding it hard to keep tabs on Riddle. Not only was his search for Horcruxes being jeopardized by Ron's foolishness, but also his endeavor to discover how deeply the young Voldemort was connected to Grindelwald and what his final plans were concerning the Dark wizard. Harry was finding this more and more frustrating, but he couldn't forgive Ron, not for what he said about him being jealous.

But was he jealous? Harry had spent the last six years of his schooling as the center of attention at Hogwarts, not necessarily positive attention, but nevertheless, he had always been famous Harry Potter. Harry immediately cleared his mind of this thought. No, he wasn't jealous, he didn't want to be scrutinized by this group of Slytherins. Not to mention, drawing attention to himself would jeopardize their identity, and Harry feared that without Hermione around, people would begin asking questions of Ron that he wouldn't be able to answer without prompting suspicion from certain people, the most threatening, of course, being Tom Riddle.

Harry thoughts were suddenly interrupted though by what seemed to be a blast of rowdy cheering entering the Common Room. Immediately Harry recognized that Slytherin had won. Students began filing in screaming at the top of their lungs in celebration, sparks flying from wands, and many discussing details of what could have only been an hour long match, at the most.

"….Did you see that save by Weals? I seriously thought he'd Apparated in front of that left hoop!…"

"…Merlin, I wish I could fly like Malfoy! I've never seen a Chaser score six times in one minute! Must be a school record…!"

"…I nearly fainted when Riddle dove like that! Swore he was going to slam into the stands…"

Harry looked around and noticed that the team still had yet to show up. He turned to Hermione, who was slightly pink, and looking conflicted.

"Should we leave?" she asked Harry, "You know, before he gets back?"

"I don't know. I kind of want to hear more details of the match."

"You don't want to hear it from him though, do you? From the sound of it, his head's probably exploded already!"

Just then the portrait hole swung open and a young third year walked in, smiling ear-to-ear. Everyone turned his way, girls giggling in anticipation and boys whispering anxiously.

"May I introduce your future Quidditch House Cup Champions!" yelled the boy, everyone bursting into cheers, "Your Captain, Abraxas Malfoy!" There was a scream from none other than Eve, who had tears in her eyes as Malfoy entered the room, hands triumphantly raised above his head. She ran to him and he embraced her, swinging her around in a circle, as she giggled and sobbed uncontrollably with delight.

"Your fellow Chasers, Joseph Cremley and Xavier Montague!" The two entered waving Slytherin flags which were hissing loudly. However, the cheers of the crowd soon drowned out the flags. Harry had never seen such celebration after a match, not that Gryffindor didn't celebrate wins, but the Slytherins seemed to be taking it to a whole different level.

"Your Beaters, Waldo Macnair and Collin Lestrange!" Both Beaters were swinging their clubs above their heads, stopping to flex their large biceps at a group of fourth year girls, all of whom seemed to swoon dramatically.

"Your Keeper, Ron Weals!" Harry suddenly felt disgusted as Ron entered with the Quaffle held high above his head, mouth opened in a loud yell. He threw the Quaffle into the air and smacked it across the room. A second year girl caught it and turned bright red in excitement. Harry turned to Hermione who was smiling weakly, clapping unenthusiastically.

"And, finally, your Seeker, Tom Riddle!" Riddle entered with a mere smirk on his face, head held high, his hair still in a smooth pony tail as though he had never left the ground. The least showy, he seemed to get the largest applause with girls screaming and his fellow males rushing forward to give him a pat on the back or handshake, never ceasing to compliment his flying.

However, Harry turned to see that Malfoy had gotten on top of table and whistled loudly, demanding everyone's attention. Eve's eyes were still cloudy with tears, but Harry noticed her continued glances in Riddle's direction.

"Let's say we get this party started!" Malfoy turned to Riddle, who pulled a small bag out of his pocket and tossed it to Malfoy. Everyone cheered as Malfoy pulled bottle after bottle of firewhisky out of the tiny bag, leaving Hermione with her jaw dropping, completely scandalized. After Malfoy had finally emptied the bag leaving twelve bottles of firewhisky and five huge jugs of butterbeer on the table he was standing on, he whistled again to silence the group.

"Now, I know there's a lot of you who are going to be pissed, but no one under the age of fifteen is going to get any firewhisky!" A loud whine of disappointment and offense issued from the group, while some fifth years and the sixth and seventh years cheered even louder rushing forward to claim a bottle for their group, "Sorry, guys, but you're far to young to handle this stuff, and I like to think of myself as a responsible adult!" Many of the seventh years snorted at this causing Malfoy to glare at them, before bursting into laughter and grabbing a bottle, opening it, and yelling, "To Slytherin!" before taking a long swig. All the older students held up a bottle and screamed before drinking themselves, and even the younger students couldn't help but join in with the screaming.

Harry was blown away by the sheer insanity that ensued after an hour of the young wizards chugging firewhisky. Sparks like fireworks were randomly shooting in every direction as drunken wizards and witches attempted to impress their friends or had merely sat on their wand. Several of the older students had paired up and were snogging without shame on the chairs and tables. Harry was especially uncomfortable when a couple nearly fell on his lap and giggled drunkenly on the floor at his feet.

Hermione, however, was purely appalled by the students, especially when she spotted Ron, curled over, laughing hysterically with Malfoy, a bottle in hand, and his cheeks turning a rosy pink. Immediately, Hermione stood up, turning pink in the cheeks herself, but Harry could easily assume it was because she was fuming over Ron's behavior. She turned to leave, and Harry stood up, trying not to step on the couple still snogging at his feet, attempting to follow her, but somehow, Malfoy had maneuvered through the crowd and swiftly grabbed Harry around the shoulders.

"Harrrrrrrry!" he yelled in his ear, pulling the stunned Boy-Who-Lived into a hug.

"Erm, hi, Abraxas," he said, nervously, trying to pry himself out of the blonde boy's grasp. He tried to spot Hermione over his shoulder, but it appeared she had disappeared into the girl's dormitory.

"Harry, you are such a good guy," started Malfoy, "I miss you, man. Why don't you talk to us anymore?" Abraxas was now wearing a face that looked like a pathetic puppy-dog, like he actually was offended that Harry was no longer part of their group.

"Uh, Ron and I aren't really on speaking terms right now."

"Ah, man, that's terrible. I mean, you spend all…all those years, like…like brothers, fighting dragons and stuff and then, poof!, you get into a spat with each other and it's all…all over." Malfoy was shaking his head sadly. Suddenly, however, he seemed to reach right past Harry, while still holding him in a half hug and grabbed with his other arm, to Harry's displeasure, Tom Riddle around the shoulder.

"Tom! Did I ever tell you…you're so good at cursing!" yelled Malfoy. Riddle was holding a bottle of firewhisky, but from the tone of his voice the firewhisky had yet to affect him to the same degree as Malfoy; however, Harry noticed more color in his cheeks than usual.

"Abraxas, if you do not remove your arm from me, you will learn just how good at cursing I am," spoke Riddle softly. Malfoy burst out laughing, but when Riddle failed to even smile, Malfoy immediately removed his arm. His face suddenly lit up, however, and he yelled across the room, relinquishing Harry, and stumbling over to Crabbe and embracing him. Riddle turned to Harry, and made a motion as though offering him a drink from the half empty bottle he was holding. Harry shook his head quickly, feeling extremely uncomfortable about being offered anything by Riddle. Riddle shrugged and took a drink, himself. However, before he could start a conversation with Harry, who was growing more wary standing next to a slightly drunk future Lord Voldemort, Riddle developed a sly smirk that Harry immediately recognized. Sure enough, Harry turned around to see Eve conspicuously beckoning Riddle with a single, seductive finger and standing next to the Head Boy's Room.

"I'll talk to you later, Harry," said Riddle, pushing past him. Harry looked over at Malfoy, whose loud stammering voice could be heard across the Common Room and still half embracing Crabbe ("Let's just leave, Crabbe…We'll just get on our broomsticks and…and just go…and start a business!"). Harry shook his head, disgusted with everything that was going on around him. Slytherin had been a bad idea, he was surrounded by drunks, idiots, cheaters, manipulators, and a murderer, and the worst part of it all, they had corrupted his best friend. Harry, now fuming like Hermione, headed toward the dorm. His journey was cut short, however, for just before the stairs, he collided with someone, firewhisky spilling all over Harry's robes. Unfortunately, it was one of the last red-haired former friends he had ever wanted to run into, especially in his present mood. Ron, however, seemed entirely clueless of whom he had collided with for he was now rolling on the ground in laughter. Harry, angrier by Ron's amusement, kicked hard him in the side. Ron immediately looked up, hurt, and his face went blank when he realized it was Harry. It didn't stay blank for long, though, as he stumbled up to stand face-to-face with the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Th-think you can just…just kick me, don't you?" stammered Ron, his cheeks rosy red, and his ears quickly starting to match them.

"Sure, dragon dung like yourself deserves it, if you ask me," responded Harry. Ron gaped at him before fumbling in his robes for his wand. Harry, consequently drew his as well.

"You…you take that back!" yelled Ron. Suddenly, everyone turned around to watch the two, many giggling, a few girls on the verge of drunken tears.

"Make me," said Harry, provoking a duel which seemed the best way to vent his anger.

Ron screwed up his face and raised his wand, voicing some incoherent spell that shot a jet of yellow light out of the tip of his wand completely missing Harry by at least four feet above his head. Rather, the jet hit Malfoy, square in back across the room. There was a popping noise and suddenly the whole Common Room had burst into laughter. Harry and Ron pushed through the crowd to get a better look at Ron's spell work. However, standing where Malfoy should have been was a rooster which flapped its wing in a panic and tripped, as though drunk, over its own feet.

"Whoops," said Ron quickly, soon bursting into the same rowdy laughter in which the rest of the Slytherins were engaged. Harry couldn't help but find amusement in the situation, but suddenly, being the only sober person there, seemed to recognize the potential trouble Ron and he may face and realized something had to be done about Malfoy. Ron obviously wouldn't know the counter charm, being that he hadn't even casted a coherent spell and Harry had no idea how to reverse such a spell. His first thought was to get Hermione, but she had gone to bed nearly an hour ago and, from past experience, he knew the staircases were charmed to only allow female students into the girl's dorm. Thus, his mind wandered to the only potential mender of the situation: Tom Riddle. He turned around to venture through the crowd to the Head Boy's room, but stopped short. He was considering the fact that Riddle had left the Common Room with Eve, and being not in the least bit naïve, realized the last thing he wanted to do was see something that would scar him (this time mentally) for life.

However, after a few minutes of inner conflict, Harry approached the door, raising his hand to knock, when it cracked open. Harry dared not to push the door open, for fear of what he might see, but a voice emerged before Harry could explain himself.

"Who's been turned into what this time?" It was definitely Riddle and he was standing behind the door, though Harry couldn't see him through the crack.

"Um, well, Abraxas has been turned into...um...a rooster," replied Harry. He heard Riddle sigh.

"I'll be out in a minute."

Harry decided it was his cue to leave as the door shut. Not wanting to be part of the drama anymore, Harry turned around and walked toward the boy's dormitory once again. Thankfully, he was not intercepted this time, and he changed into his night clothes and slid into bed, the sole occupant of the dorm. As he lay in bed, still able to hear the drunken laughter and yelling below, he reached a conclusion. Slytherin was definitely a terrible idea.

End Chapter Five