Here's the newest chapter for the "Harry Potter: the Serpent Lord", enjoy!

* Review response:
Naginator, reven228, jafr86, shugokage, ElementalMaster16, Lord Xantos A. Fowl, SimFlyer, 1337box, Penny is wise, Awsomeness7, k9angel, JPElles, nopparitari, Pedro Boncompagni, thank you for your reviews, folks!
The Swordslinger, dunno. I think it was alright, though you might be right about it.
Zarosian Chaos, I have no such plans.
mliyanagamage, yes, 'serpent lord' part will be in the focus this fourth year. But there also will be NO fifth year covered in this story. It ends at the end of Harry's fourth year.
sasha1213, спасибо, и, скажу вот что, фанфик будет закончен (рано или поздно) несмотря ни на что.
Toby860, there will be such contract. Do you think I gave Harry 'pureblood-style' name somewhere in his first year just for fun?

As per the results of the poll, I'll have Harry/Violet oneshot written and published here in a week or two

* Disclaimer: I DO NOT own "Harry Potter" and its characters in any shape or form.

"human speech"
"wraith speech"
'human thoughts'
"powered speech / true prophecies by the seer"
"spells / parseltongue"

This chapter is not beta-read yet.

chapter 52: Quidditch World Cup Finals

Great, powerful and fearsome lord Voldemort – well, he was that once in the past, and he soon will be that again – sat in his homunculus body in an armchair in the guest room of the Riddle manor reading the latest edition of the 'Daily Prophet'. And his ugly temporary body was furrowing its brows as it read about Ronald Weasley, the chosen one of the Great Britain, attending the Ministry-sponsored Summer Solstice ball.

"Wormtail!" The Dark Lord called his only minion he had at the moment. "Care to explain it, why everyone is thinking that the blood-traitor like Weasley can have power to stop me?" Of course, he should have phrased it better, for Potters too were blood-traitors in his mind, but...

"I'm n-not sure, Master." The sorry excuse of a wizard that Wormtail was replied from the other end of the room. "But on day about a year ago Dumbledore suddenly proclaimed that it will be him, and not the Potter, who will end you." This made lord Voldemort think.

"I see. And what can you tell me about this Weasley brat, Wormtail?" He asked then. His minion was silent for several long seconds – almost long enough to get crucio-ed for failing to answer his master – before he finally replied:

"Even though the headmaster is teaching him privately at least once a week, the boy shows little promise of being even half as strong as you, master. I lived with him for years, and he never showed any signs of either great magical power, or great understanding of the magic taught at Hogwarts. He is also quite lazy and seems to have only food and quidditch on his mind." Peter Pettigrew said. "His only chance of beating you, master, will be an eating competition, where the loser loses his magic." Of course, lord Voldemort dismissed this danger outright.

"Very well, Wormtail. And what can you tell me about Potter?" The self-proclaimed greatest Dark Lord in the history of magical Great Britain asked: after all, he had already faced the brat twice, and both time the insufferable boy not only survived the encounters, but somehow also managed to destroy his plans.

"He is doing significantly better academically, then Ronald Weasley. And he also seem to be displaying greater levels of magical power as well." Peter stopped there for a moment, before adding the next part in fear of being put under the cruciatus curse: "But he is still no where near as powerful as you are, master." Sighing happily at avoiding being cursed, Wormtail continued. "He also seem to have a group of associates that has members of all four Hogwarts houses." This made lord Voldemort rather unhappy: some of the students seemed to be forgetting that the members of the great and noble house Slytherin did not associate with the riffraff from Gryffindor. But getting his new body held greater importance to Voldemort than punishing stupid brats for their misdeeds, so he decided to let them be for now.

"I see..." What once was Tom Riddle said thoughtfully. "In that case, I shall have Potter as the ingredient for my rebirth, like I originally planned. But this brings in another problem: with you there to attend me, Wormtail, I have no one else, who could have the brat delivered to me, at the moment..." The later part was said as if just thinking aloud.

"If I may be so bold, master?" Peter Pettigrew spoke. "You saw that Barty Crouch Jr. is still alive from that Jorkins witch's memories. Knowing what position his father holds at the Ministry at the moment, that man will definitely be at the Quidditch World Cup finals this next month. This is when we can break Junior free." Voldemort thought about this for a second.

"This is a surprisingly sound suggestion, Wormtail." The said man beamed with pride. "But what if Junior is brought to the finals instead?" Peter was silent for some time, before finally answering:

"Well, then he will have to be under an invisibility cloak, so getting him away from his father will be even easier. And I doubt that with how big that quidditch stadium is, they'll put up some decent anti-animagus ward. I'll just slip in, get junior and we will scape back there." Voldemort nodded.

"Very well, Wormtail." He said. "I will trust you to accomplish this mission. But I will insist that under no condition you are to get caught. Escape without junior if they see you." Peter nodded.

"I will do that, master."

~/ *** \~

It now was the middle of the second week of August, and one Harry Potter, finally back to England, was walking through the Diagon alley. And, boy, did he change over the summer. Most noticeable change in him, of course, was the fact that neither the glasses nor the eye-patch could be seen on his face anymore. Instead, he now wore contact lenses. A mostly conventional one for his left eye, and a magic-blocking one for his implanted right one. The later one even allowed him to activated his petrifying glare with just a thought while also making the basilisk's eye appear more or less like a normal human one... Of course, both lenses were enchanted so that he would never need to take them out, nor anything short of some really powerful spell could damage them.

Other than that, the young Potter had gained some tan over the summer, as well as his body becoming a bit more wiry from the 'adventures' he had had. The said 'adventures' were also the reason for some really minor and already fading cut-scars he had on the visible parts of his body. Finally, he now was wearing what could be called a necklace: a thin, long and slightly-curved black rod on a long silvery chain made from thousands upon thousands of tiny links. And no matter what one may think, Harry was not wearing it for its looks: it had by far more important role in his future than being a pretty accessory.

And, more importantly, the green-eyed wizards wasn't out there to show himself off – though he didn't terribly mind the glances that the girls around his age were stealing in his direction – no, he had an appointment with his barrister in fifteen minutes... Of course, Violet's latest client took a bit more time than that to finish his business, but as Harry was in no hurry, he didn't mind this much.

"Uh?.. Lord Potter? Welcome back." The blond witch said, once she recognized him a couple of seconds after he had entered her office. Readjusting her glasses, she pulled Harry's rather thick file from the small and well-organized stack of files that was there on her table.

"Thank you, and nice to see you again, miss Bridget." The dark-haired wizard replied, taking his seat across the table from her. "To the business then?" He asked, and once Violet nodded, he continued. "Can you give me a brief summary of the important things that had happened while I was abroad. I will read about the rest from your and Herr Schmidt's reports later." The blond witch nodded again.

"Alright." She said. "If you have received Herr Schmidt's missive, Wizengamot agreed to dump organizing the tasks of the Triwizard tournament onto the Department of Magical Sports and Games, as well as onto the administrations of the schools involved in this tournament." Well, Harry thought, this might have been for the better as this way he will have no spoilers for the contests... "Aside from that, the political arena was rather quiet, which let me concentrate on the other tasks you've given to me. With madam Longbottom's help, I've managed to uncover some blackmail on Albus Dumbledore. Nothing incriminating, but should this become public knowledge, it will be very hard for him to keep his positions." Violet said as she pulled quite a few pages from Harry's file. "Would you like me to brief you on these findings?" The green-eyed wizard shook his head.

"No, I'd like study them later. Please, owl them to me." The blonde nodded, returning the pages back into the file. "Now then, if there is nothing else, I'd like to move onto the second reason for my visit today." Another nod. "As you no doubt know, this year Hogwarts happens to host the resurrected Triwizard tournament." Harry said with a chuckle. "And I think that you are also more or less aware of how bad my luck is sometimes. Thus, I'm afraid, something may happen that will leave me in an immediate need of your legal help. And I do not think that I will have enough time to wait for an owl to bring my request here, nor I'm sure that I will have a quick access to a floo to make a call. Is there any other way I can contact you quickly?" Violet thought about this for several seconds before replying.

"Have you ever heard about Protean charm, lord Potter?" The dark-haired teen nodded in response. From the memories he had absorbed from Voldemort he knew that the infamous dark mark was partially built around it. But he wasn't about to unveil this piece of knowledge.

"I know about it, though I've never cast it myself." He replied smoothly.

"Very well then." The witch said, before looking around her office in search for something she could use for the charm. Finally, finding nothing suitable, she just transfigured two sheets of paper into pins with glass balls on one of their ends. A complicated series of wand movements later, the pins were connected through the charm. Taking one of the pins, and adding some more charms onto it, Violet attached it to the inner side of her business suit. Harry, though, still had his pin in his hands. "Should you find yourself in the immediate need of the firm's assistance, breaker the ball off the pin, and I will know about it. And I hope that the charm trigger is good enough for your call not to happen accidentally..." She trailed off, before adding: "Just remember that we charge one hundred and fifty percents during non-standard working hours." The young Potter just nodded in response.

"Shall I provide you with a portkey that will drop you before the Hogwarts' front doors then?" He asked then. Violet nodded.

"That would be most helpful."

~/ *** \~

Finally it was time for the most expected magical event of that summer in Great Britain. It was time for the quidditch world cup finals. Too bad that the English team wasn't there to compete for the trophy, but, oh well... And, Harry mused, being one of the lords of Wizengamot did come with great advantages: for one, unlike many who had to spend up to three weeks camping not far from the stadium, he was allowed to arrive at any time he wanted, provided he used an apparation point for the Ministry officials.

The young Potter didn't hesitate to use this right of his, and arrived to the point about one hour before the game was supposed to start. From there he proceeded straight to the stadium and to his seat there, paying little to no attention to the various quidditch merchandize sold here and there. He didn't even really stop to admire the impressive in its giantism golden structure that the stadium was... And, apparently, he was right in not doing that, as with the amount of people crowding around the entrances and inside the stadium, it took him quite some time to get to balcony where his seat was. Actually, he arrived there with just a couple of minutes to spare.

Shaking his head at his luck of having to sit next to an old pudgy wizard who likely hadn't even heard about personal hygiene, Harry discretely cast several charms to make it possible for himself to endure sitting in this arrangement for the duration of the game. That done, he took a pair of omniculars he had bought previously and looked around through them. Almost across the stadium from his seat and all the way up he could see the Minister's box and some interesting people there:

In the very center there sat Cornelius Fudge. On his right there was Bulgarian minister for Magic, and on his left sat the leader of Irish Magical government – Harry didn't remember what was the right name for that position. The rest of the seats on the left side of the box were occupied by Mr. Arthur Weasley and all seven of his children. The other end of the box had the four members of the Malfoy family sitting in the front row and some ministry officials Harry didn't know in the second. There also was a couple of empty seats in the box, but he had no idea whose those may be...

The green-eyed teen didn't have much time for gazing at his Slytherin year-mate, though, as Ludo Bagman, who was commenting the match, entered the box and not a minute later Bulgarian mascots were announced. Those were about an hundred or so blonde women that were inhumanly beautiful.

'Veela.' The young lord Potter thought. A moment later all of his thoughts were pushed out of his mind as the veela released their allure, bathing entire stadium in it. And if that wasn't enough, they started dancing, quite seductively so... Thankfully, Harry's mental defenses were good enough to tune the effects of allure down somewhat, so he managed refrain from doing something stupid in hopes of getting the beauties' attention. Even more thankfully, the old wizard next to him was too old to be really affected by the allure in any way, or, the dark-haired teen was afraid, he'd need more than air-freshening charms around himself...

Once the veela finished dancing and lined along the Bulgarian side of the pitch, Irish mascots were announced. And so, a great number of leprechauns filled the air above the stadium. These little men may not possess any allure, but the rain of fake gold they created at the end of their short show had affected the public just as strongly.

After the leprechauns were finished with their performance, it was time for the teams to make their appearance. Ludo Bagman named all seven of players of the Bulgarian team in mostly red robes that entered the pitch. Then the match commentator did the same for the Irish team dressed in green and, finally, for the referee. And once the balls were released, the match started...

Just a few minutes into the game it became painfully obvious that if everyone played fair, Bulgarian chasers were greatly outmatched by their Irish counterparts. And so the 'red' team resorted to using some dirty tactics to give their star seeker a chance to catch the snitch before it was too late and their 'green' opponents had score more than a hundred and a half points over them. This, of course, earned Bulgarians quite a few penalties towards their hoops, but their keeper did a decent job of catching those, so the difference in score wasn't growing too much because of that.

After an hour and a half, though, Ireland was sixteen goals ahead, and it looked like the Bulgarian team had no real chances of winning anymore. The only thing they could do to avoid a humiliating defeat was getting the snitch right about now... A minute passed and suddenly both seekers started diving after something. Lynch, who was on the Irish team, was closer to the snitch and so he had a pretty good head-start, but his Bulgarian counterpart, Krum, appeared to be faster on the broom, so by the time the two got close to the ground, they were in a line. And then Lynch crashed into the ground for the second time this match, while Krum was slowly rising into the air with a golden snitch held tightly in his hand.

Since the match was over, Harry saw no reason to spend any more time there, so he started making his way out of the stadium before those became too crowded with other leaving wizards and witches... Again, using his privileges that came with him being the lord Potter, he headed to the ministry officials' apparation point and, once he was there, he disappeared towards his summer house in Birling gap.

~/ *** \~

The next morning Harry was having his breakfast when an owl carrying his copy of the 'Daily Prophet' arrived. Paying five knuts to the bird, he took the newspaper and opened it. And froze. Right there on the front page there was huge photo of the Voldemort's dark mark glowing pale green in the night sky with the golden quidditch stadium somewhere in the background.

Shaking his head, the young Potter turned the page and started reading the article about the 'fun' he had missed yesterday... According to the ministry, a group of about twelve unidentified wizards masquerading as Death Eaters had attacked the camping grounds, setting random tents on fire all while juggling some muggles with their wands. Thankfully, no one – save for the poor muggles – was hurt, but the pseudo-Death Eaters got away before the aurors could apprehend them... Some people said that the masquerading wizards left very abruptly when the dark mark was cast, which caused some to speculate that it was a creation of someone not from their group...

Harry stopped reading the article there: the 'Death Eaters' that had attacked the camps were not there on the orders of Voldemort, and, instead, most likely, were just some pure-blood bigots that wanted to get into the newspapers by causing property damage and creating mayhem. This also meant that the undead Dark Tosser didn't have a lot if any of his followers with him, and, possibly, he wasn't even reincarnated yet, so it gave the Harry some more time prepare for their battle...

~/ *** \~

Meanwhile, in Little Hangleton three wizards – well, two wizards and one wraith inhabiting a homunculus body – were busy planning the said wraith revival. More accurately, they were trying to think of a way to get the 'blood of an enemy' to where the revival ritual will be held, as lord Voldemort absolutely refused to use anyone but Harry Potter for this... Finally, around noon, the once fearsome dark lord thought up a solution:

"How would you like to spend a year at Hogwarts, Barty?" He asked in a way that made it clear that refusal was not an option.

That's all, folks!
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