A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Harry Potter.

I have no beta.

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ß = Warbletongue. The language of all avian like creatures.

'For the Greater Good' was emblazoned on the entrance of the large building. The words had once been smooth and something to be admired, but the wear and tear of the climate had eventually lead made the smooth surface crack. Individual little fractures ran along the now jagged rocks, mucking up the intended presentation.

The Dark Lord traversed the cold and lonely corridors of the fortress. The grey stones were uneven, proving the poor skill that had been put into the creation of the building. But that was what you got when you Imperiused Muggles who knew nothing about architecture, and forced them into building a fortress for you.

Gellert Grindelwald was a rather foolish man in his youth. He had all of these grand ideas and didn't even think beyond them. Didn't even stop to consider just what would happen when they came to fruition, or how they would affect the world.

Voldemort despised Muggles on principle, simply because of his personal experiences with them. He knew that killing all of them would be pointless, but he wasn't against some good, old fashioned torture, especially of the ones who irritated him the most.

The former Dark Lord was a shell of his former self, placed in the very prison he had had created for his slaves and prisoners. Placed in there by his former lover of all people. Forced to sit day in and day out as nothing happened. Nothing of great interest.

Not many would ever notice how terrible Dumbledore's decision was. Dumbledore had something personal against killing and was a staunch believer of second chances. He always had viewed death as a very last resort, so he had not killed his once friend. He had refused to let anyone else kill him either. Dumbledore had instead, sentenced him to decades in a colourless hellhole, with no stimulation and no physical contact with anyone.

Voldemort could admit that he had an unnatural fear of death. He did not want to die and he did not want to be unknown. Voldemort had been overzealous in his youth and had suffered for it for several years, but he would not take back his actions for they ensured him what he had desired most in the world. Immortality.

And yet, even Voldemort could acknowledge, like Dumbledore had always wanted him to, that death was not the most terrifying thing. Dying in general wasn't too terrifying, even if it was the unknown. It was usually how one died that terrified someone.

Voldemort knew that living every day in the worst of torture would be worse than dying. An Avada Kedavra took less than a second to sever the soul from the body and stop all the organs from working. A quick and painless death was more of a mercy than decades spent in torment.

So Dumbledore had unknowingly been cruel to his love, by forcing him to barely exist for thirty-four years in complete loneliness. Voldemort called it such because it was not Gellert's decision. One could choose to be alone, but no one chose to be lonely. And Gellert's forced isolation for such a long time, had left him to only his thoughts and crippling sanity.

His magic was sealed. The only kind of power he could use was anything related to the Mind Arts. And the man had barely any energy to accomplish such a feat all those years ago.

Voldemort was visiting old acquaintances this day. The day of his birth. The day that exactly seventy-two years ago, he had been abandoned by a weak Squib who couldn't understand why the husband she had raped, had not wanted her or her child.

Voldemort had been given years to consider his family history. And several discussions with none other than Albus Dumbledore, to come to grips with the truth of the matter. Any only briefly did he wonder why Dumbledore had put so much effort into learning about Voldemort's past.

Voldemort did not like Dumbledore. The moment the man had shoved him aside as if he was some monster that wasn't worthy of any kind of help, was the moment Tom Riddle had lost any respect for the wizard. But despite his personal feelings on the matter, he wasn't foolish enough to assume that Dumbledore was not powerful nor knowledgeable.

Dumbledore had limited himself to only Light Magic in terms of use, but he still had a wide repertoire of knowledge from every kind of branch of magic available. It would be pure idiocy if Voldemort did not listen to the man from time to time, and Voldemort was not an idiot.

The Dark Lord was merciful. More so than Dumbledore had ever assumed he could be. When he had defeated the Light Lord, he had not killed him nor paraded him about like his followers had wanted him to. Voldemort bound the man's magic, and placed him in the same cell as his once lover/friend, while also taking over the control of the prison and making the accommodations much more humane.

Voldemort was capable of mercy.

The Dark Lord stalked through the corridors, his intended location at the highest room in the highest tower, where the two men resided to this day.

Voldemort made these trips out to Nurmengard twice a year, because he felt like spitefully rubbing his victory in Dumbledore's face, and he liked to get feedback so to speak. Dumbledore was like an unknown adviser to the Dark Lord. Sometimes the man had things to say that would utterly stun and awe folks, and other times he was as barmy as people assumed he was.

Voldemort took all of his words into account and dismissed what he personally felt to be ridiculous, but did always leave with something new to consider or ponder at least for a little while.

The very cell was a lot nicer than it had been when Gellert had solely occupied it. No longer ominous and musty, no grime on the walls. There were two beds on either wall. A loo placed in the far corner, behind a section of wall that had been place in there to keep a level of privacy. The shackles and chains had been removed, because they made annoying noise every time someone wore them.

Warming charms placed routinely to keep the temperature even, and yes, three meals a day. Voldemort was not an unmerciful lord. He did not deal savagery everywhere he went. Only in some instances did egregious action need to be taken.

Voldemort was magnanimous and made sure that people knew it.

"Ah, Tom!" Dumbledore greeted with a twinkle of the eye and a nod of the head, "Congratulations on seventy-two years!"

Dumbledore's prison garb was not white and black like his friend's. It was chartreuse and pumpkin orange, though it was striped like every other prisoners was. The man had made it his only request when he was sentenced.

They were blinding and Voldemort couldn't stop himself from just staring, every time he came to visit. They were just so appalling that he had to stop and stare for a moment. Sometimes he really wondered if Dumbledore had become addled with age. It wasn't something shocking and it happened to many old folks. The assumption was not unfounded.

Also... "I despise that name."

Just because he understood what had transpired between the two people who had created him, did not mean that he liked either of them. He unfortunately shared blood with both and names from either side of the family. He was bloody Tom Riddle III for Merlin's sake!

Tom Riddle was such a boring name and was in no way unique. Dumbledore had never liked referring to the man by the name he had crafted for himself.

Rude.

"How have you been, Tom? We have not received any Daily Prophet papers in quite some time, so we don't really know what has transpired recently."

Voldemort seated himself in the chair that rested the required five feet from the bars of the cell. Though he could flaunt the law at any moment and even enter the cell if he wanted, he just didn't want to. Sitting in front of the two men was enough.

"I have… begun the search for a consort."

Gellert's head turned to face him then, the interest in his once distant gaze suddenly sharp. "And what exactly does the Dark Lord look for in a consort?"

Both Albus and Gellert shared an intense look before staring at him expectantly.

Voldemort withdrew the Daily Prophet article that he had brought with him. With a wave of the hand, he spelled the parchment into the cell and allowed the two older wizards to look it over.

Dumbledore reacted first. "It is a very interesting idea and reminds me of medieval practises, though incredibly more detailed than the old ways of the Muggles. I can see that you have done a very thorough job at discerning what exactly it is that you are looking for, but you are lacking one thing in this, Tom."

"And what would that be?"

Blue eyes twinkled. "Love."

Ugh. It was always the 'power of love' with the man. Love was not going to bring world peace or save everyone from destruction. Love did not hold the power that Dumbledore seemed to believe it did.

"I don't need love, Albus," the man insisted. "I need an heir and possibly someone who is not a dunce, to aid me in rearing them."

Gellert spoke next. "You claim to be immortal-"

"I am immortal."

"-so why would you even need to have children if you intend to live forever?" Gellert continued, ignoring his sneered words.

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed with a nod. "I don't think you particularly just want an heir and just want to expand the Slytherin family once more, I think you are lonely. You're looking for someone who can stand toe to toe with you in everything or at least most things."

The two men proceeded to dissect every single thing they could until Voldemort was left to sit and gape.

Apparently he had some kind of 'inner longing'. He 'wanted someone who found the real him attractive and engaging'. And according to Albus, the only way that he and the winner of the tournament would be happy, was if they loved each other, so that he didn't get sidled with some money hungry piece of filth, and they didn't live the rest of their days in utter despair.

"Have you anyone in mind?" Albus asked when it was obvious that Voldemort wasn't going to say anything.

"A few. There is one Hermione Jean Granger who has shown an incredible aptitude in nearly every task. She is the top student in the school and had turned down the Head Girl position in order to focus on her studies and to enter the tournament. She is a Muggleborn Light Witch who wishes to enter the Ministry and become a department Head for either the Department of Magical Education, Runes & Symbols, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, or the Ministerial Wizarding Register Department."

Both Gellert and Albus cocked an eyebrow, almost in perfect sync.

"Aria McGee is a Neutral Witch who is a Healer at St. Mungo's and she has a very interesting family background that I am curious to unearth."

More like he wanted to know some of the secrets of her family and was considering ways he could blackmail her into revealing them.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy is a Pureblooded Dark Wizard. I'm watching him simply because he was trained by dear Bellatrix and has been tutored by Severus. He has been doing fairly well, but could stand to do better."

Dumbledore did not seem surprised in the least.

"Moriah Zabini is a Pureblooded Dark Witch and is always a topic of interest, though I do not consider her consort material. Not by a long shot. Still, keep your enemies closer than your friends and this has helped me flesh out some of her secret talents."

Gellert rolled his eyes.

"Then there is my absolute favourite, Harry James Potter. He is a Halfblood, Neutral Wizard. The male equivalent of Ms. Granger, with designs on a Mastery in Healing and Magizoology. He was the only person I personally entered into the tournament and he of course, was not pleased. Mainly because he didn't want to enter at all."

Honestly, it baffled him how the boy didn't think marrying him was anything to be excited about. It was refreshing in a sense.

"Tom, why did you enter the boy if he didn't want to be involved?" asked Dumbledore as he sent the Dark Lord a disapproving look.

"At first it was to test his talents, because the boy has many. However he became a lot more interesting as time wore on and I blackmailed him into competing instead of quitting, for the sake of his friend Ms. Granger's safety. A lot of people still do not approve of Muggleborns after all and so long as they aren't caught, they can still target her."

"You are a fool," Gellert stated, much to his annoyance. "You may have ensured that the boy will want nothing to do with you."

"If you want Mr. Potter as much as you seem to, you will have to prove yourself to him," warned Dumbledore. "He didn't enter willingly, meaning that he most likely had no opinion of you until you forced him to compete. His views of you may have been damaged by this and should you win, you will have a very unpleasant spouse by your side. It would behoove you to learn from your mistake and seek to rectify it, otherwise the future will be bleak for you."

Voldemort sneered, but did end up leaving the prison with a few ideas in mind and wondering if perhaps he'd been a little too hasty in his actions regarding one Harry Potter.

He was also wondering how much damage control he would have to work through.

Only two days back from the hols and Harry already had so much stuff to do! And like usual, he was tending to the animals around the castle. On this day, he found himself in the owlery, helping the owls.

They did not need help with food, nor help with water. There was an entire forest and lake for them to frequent. No, Harry liked to go and preen them and give them all a good cleaning. A lot of times, people forgot all of the work the owls went through. A lot of people didn't realise that there was more to them than just being parcel carriers.

Harry had a large bucket filled with several brushes, in his hands when he entered the tower and it was pandemonium the moment they saw him!

ßHarry!ß

ßHarry!ß

ßHi, Harry!ß

ßIt's Harry!ß

They were always excited to see him and it made him a little embarrassed though no one could understand what they were saying. Still, the excitable chirping of Warbletongue made him smile every time.

It was nice to be appreciated.

ßYou all know the drill,ß he trilled to them. ßInjured and unwell first, then youngest to oldest.ß

The birds immediately began to situate themselves in a sort of order around the large room, the first bird landing atop the bench Harry always used.

ßHello, Meep,ß the Gryffindor greeted, patting her head gently. ßHow has your wing been holding up?ß

She flexed the large muscle so he could see how well she was able to move it. The last time he had come to tend to the animals, she had been injured in a fight with a much larger bird of prey and had to rest as he healed the wound.

He'd then told her to take it easy.

ßHarry, I can move again! I can fly now! Can I start taking the mail again?ß

Harry ran a gentle hand over the humerus, radius, and ulna, just making certain that the wound had indeed healed completely and that there was no lasting pain for the poor creature.

ßTell me if it hurts,ß he told her as his fingers very carefully traced over the radiale in order to make sure that the movement was truly unhindered.

When the bird gave no comment, he allowed her to rest as he proceeded to reorganise her feathers and give her a little rubbing.

Sometimes it was just good to get rid of the tension.

Harry used this time to consider everything going on in his life, as well as taking a moment to pat himself on the back for being able to continue his life as it was, without too much interruption from the stupid tournament.

While having to compete, he still managed to get his training in and his self imposed duties taken care of. It was good time management and skill, that was all.

Probably dedication as well, since he refused to let the tournament overtake his life.

Harry was independent to an extent and he was not going to place all of his hopes on something he didn't care about. Most of the people in the tournament at present, were all confident that they would win. Some had turned down jobs for this. Some had turned down apprenticeships, because they were so sure that they would win and not have to do anything once married to the Dark Lord.

As if the man would want a spouse who was lazy.

Voldemort was most likely keeping track of people's lives and just how they were able to handle the drama of the tournament and their own lives at the same time.

Some people did so admirably and others were falling apart.

Hermione was one of those who were falling apart. He worried for her, because she had not stopped her foray into the Dark Arts, even after she had to go through a week of treatment to get her PDAA taken care of.

Harry resolved himself to paying more attention to her actions lately.

ßMy turn!ß the next bird chirped, claiming his attention.

ßHello, Chandra.ß

Dear Sev,

I've been wanting to talk to you about this for a while because it has been worrying me constantly. I know that you will no doubt have more information on the subject and Harry appears to be tight lipped on the whole thing.

Remus and I have determined that Harry did not enter himself into the tournament. You-Know-Who was the one to enter him.

During the second task, I had provided Harry with a Two-Way mirror in order to help him solve his riddles and James, Sirius, Remus, and I sat by, as he faced the different trials and retrieved his riddles.

During the task, he was confronted by Voldemort and Remus described their interaction as a teasing/taunting kind of thing. It is a bit disconcerting to realise that the Dark Lord has shown a rather fixated interest in my son and that Harry doesn't seem to know how to control his tongue when around the most powerful man in the world.

Do you think Voldemort had targeted Harry in order to punish James and I for siding with Albus, or can he(somehow) actually feel a sort of interest in Harry?

I really don't want to sit at my kitchen table every morning, worrying for no reason.

Lils.

~.O.~

Lily,

To be honest, you are not the first person to be skeptical of the Dark Lord's interest. However, I can honestly say that the man holds genuine feelings for Mr. Potter. He finds the boy to be amusing, astounding, and is - dare I say it - obsessed with the young man.

The person that you must watch out for, is Bellatrix Lestrange. She has taken a more active interest in Mr. Potter and has already sought him out during school. Bellatrix knows that her youngest son, Rigel, fancies Mr. Potter and she is trying to push the two together.

Not that there are any problems with Mr. Lestrange, just that Bellatrix taking an active interest in anyone is generally a most unpleasant experience. I would caution you to do nothing to anger her in any way. Ever since Black hit her with that one curse, she hasn't been 'all there'.

She firmly believes that Potter will one day take her position as the Dark Lord's most faithful. DO NOT give her any reason to believe otherwise. The only reason she feels anything positive for him at present, is because she has deluded herself. Allow the delusion to continue.

On another note, the Dark Lord knows that your husband and his mutt are Animagi and only because we are friends, am I warning you about it. Him knowing anything about your family, that is secret, is not a good thing. Not when it can be used against you. The Dark Lord is willing to do anything to get what he wants. Remember that.

Take care,

Severus.

~.O.~

Sev,

I find the contents of your letter to be worrisome. James did not take the warning lightly, but he finally relented and he and Sirius both went to the Ministry and covertly registered themselves. On behalf of them, I would like to thank you for your kindness. I know very well that you did not have to, but you were doing it for mine and Harry's sake, and that is what matters.

I know this isn't in your job description, but could you keep an eye on Harry for me? I want him to rest and not overexert himself. He is so focused on his plans for his future that he doesn't really know when to stop.

Thanks,

Lils.

~.O.~

Lily,

Whether it is my job or not, I still end up having to pull Mr. Potter away from his work at times. The boy is as Gryffindor as they come and tends to do things without thinking. Such as boldly stating to a Knight of Walpurgis, that he didn't care about the Dark Lord.

I will keep a close watch on him and maybe assign him a detention if need be.

Severus.

"We're cutting you off."

Reginald had not expected his day to begin like this. When he had awoken that morning, he had found himself facing a lovely, sunshine filled day. And then his mother and father had Flooed in without so much as a warning, ruining his morning before it could even begin.

The two looked very displeased and he knew just by the way his mother's eyes narrowed, that he was about to be scolded.

And he knew that it was Miriam's fault!

Those words were the first thing to come from his mother's mouth.

Irene DuBois was a stern woman who was actually the Head of the family. She controlled the finances and the connections. It was their father, Martin, who controlled the personal issues within the family.

Martin was reserved as he allowed his wife to do the speaking.

Reginald was going to receive absolutely no assistance from the man, it seemed.

"For years we have tolerated you because you are our child, and for years you have disappointed us," Irene tsked. "You started a Blood Feud with the Malfoys and the Potters. You cost us our villas in both France and Germany. We had to pay too much in remuneration for what you did to the LeFays, and in truth, we cannot afford to pay for you any longer. You have a Mastery. You will take care of your own dealings henceforth."

They were removing his funds. They were actually stopping the yearly stipend that he got for his trust vault. It was a benefit for the members of the family, especially since there weren't many Pureblooded DuBois left. He now had to get a job!

Martin then decided to ruin Reginald's day further by adding, "If you do not shape yourself up, we will have to cut ties with you. You have brought far too much grief into our family and you cannot even respect your superiors and keep your mouth shut. You are a liability."

When his parents departed, Reginald stood in the corridor outside his room, absolutely fuming.

Why couldn't anyone see that he was just doing what was best? Why did they all blame him?!

Hermione's nose was nearly pressed against the book she was reading. It was a detailed description on the Dark Arts and just what one would feel depending on their magical core.

The Dark Arts are simply a family of magic that incorporates many branches. It is never wise to submerge yourself into a branch or family of magic without knowing the basics of them first.

Dark Magic in Tandem with Dark Cores:

If the magical in question has a naturally Dark Core, they will find the practising of the Dark Arts to be a lot easier on them. The two will resonate and can cause intense warmth in the body, showing that the person in question, is more Dark oriented.

Dark Magic in Tandem with Grey Cores:

If the magical in question has a naturally Grey Core, they are of the few who can utilise either Light or Dark Magics without suffering any negative effects from either. The body will feel at peace no matter spell used. The resonance won't be as strong as it would be with a Dark Core, but the power will still affect them nonetheless.

Dark Magic in Tandem with Light Cores:

A person with a Light Core can learn how to cast Dark Magic, though it is in fact, a very difficult process. Many Light wizards and witches have described the feeling of casting Dark Magic, as 'engulfing' and 'a sinking, suffocating feeling'.

Dark Magic is a very emotion based type of magic and can be all consuming to those with the naturally opposing magical core.

It is never good for a person with a Light Core to start off their journey into Dark Magic, with something that requires a lot of power and a lot of concentration. Those who are inexperienced may fall prey to the addictive qualities of the rush of power they feel from using Dark Magic.

It is not wise for a Light oriented being to delve into the Dark Arts without an experienced practitioner there to guide them.

Any further study will done be at your own risk.

So the warning seemed rather serious, but Hermione did not feel as if she was 'suffocating' in the magic. Therefore she couldn't be addicted like Harry and Madam Pomfrey had insisted she was.

Everything was perfectly fine.

Hermione flipped open to the first chapter, which talked about basic rituals and how she could use them in her everyday life.

The Dark Arts were certainly an interesting read.

She'd show everyone that a Light Witch could use the Dark Arts and not be overtaken by PDAA.

"HEADMASTER!"

Severus Snape had not often heard people scream in such a way and usually it was because of something either the Dark Lord had done, or something Bellatrix had done. But this kind of screaming should not happen anywhere in his school.

He left the office and descended the stairs swiftly, barely giving the Eagle time to move aside to let him out.

It was Rigel Lestrange of all people, and the boy looked more panicked than a Hufflepuff when they were confronted by Severus personally.

"It's Draco! He collapsed in the Great Hall and Harry is trying to resuscitate him!"

Severus was already grabbing the boy's collar and dragging him along. "Explain what happened."

"He was just drinking tea, sir! Draco hadn't even gotten to eat yet!"

Which meant that someone had either drugged or poisoned the blond's drink. Someone had somehow gotten into Severus' school and had managed to inflict some form of harm on his godson and when he found out who was responsible, hell was going to be heaven compared to what Severus, Lucius, and Narcissa would do to them.

The students had been forced to one side of the Great Hall. Potter had cleared off a section of the Slytherin Table and had placed Draco atop it. The brunet was waving his wand over a cup, mumbling certain words every now and then.

The boy leaned forward and sniffed, before shaking his head.

Draco was paler than usual and was not moving. His chest rose and fell quickly.

"Professor," Potter greeted, "I shoved a Bezoar down his throat and it stopped the aggravated twitching and screaming. But he has yet to awake and I need to isolate the different components in the tea he drank. It is scentless and flavourless I'm sure, as he never noticed a difference.

Black Hellebore was involved, I can tell that much, judging by the swelling of his tongue and the prominence of the veins in his eyes and throat."

He was minutely impressed with Potter's work thus far. "Is he safe to transport to the Hospital Wing?"

Potter was an Apprentice to a Medi-Witch, so this was like practise for him.

"Yes. We will need to flush his system when we get there however."

Conjuring a cot, Severus levitated his godson into it and then levitated the cot itself. "Come, Potter. The rest of you will go about your own business."

Hopefully they could find the cure to whatever was wrong with Draco. The Dark Lord would have to be informed and Severus did not look forward to the discussion he would have to have with Narcissa and Lucius.

Just when things had seemed to calm down, this had to happen and ruin it all.

"Mr. Potter, your quick thinking has saved Mr. Malfoy's life, and for that, I thank you."

"Sir, I didn't save him because I wanted someone's gratitude. He was going to die!"

And that was why Severus Snape preferred the younger Potter. Because he never did anything with the intent to earn praise.

A/N: Another is done!

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CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.