"I'm gonna tell him today after the quidditch match. If Gryffindor wins, everybody will be in high spirits and nobody will notice me and him sneaking away from the party. I'm gonna tell him here, in the Room of the Requirement, and I'll make it look like the clearing at the lake, where he conjured his patronus for the first time. I feel like that's the moment from where on my feelings for him began to deepen.." Hermione thought as she ran her laps on the running track the Room of Requirement had provided her with.

It was briefly past six in the morning and she was alone for once during her routine jog, the young man she loved still asleep in his bed. But he needed his sleep as much as Hermione needed her solitude on this particular morning.

"Is it really a good idea to tell him on the day of the most anticipated quidditch match of the season? That alone is excitement enough for a day.." A voice inside her head told her but she just shook her head in return.

"You've known about the match day far longer than you've known about your planned confession. That's not an excuse to be shy." She told herself over and over again, trying to get rid of the rapid thrumming inside her chest – which wasn't caused by her physical activities.

"December is close now. You could wait until Christmas, that would be far more intimate." Another thought voiced itself and Hermione sighed.

"I don't want to wait any longer. Knowing my luck he would fall in love with another during the month between now and Christmas. And I don't want to be flirted with every ten seconds any longer.." She thought and rolled her eyes.

Ever since the start of the Phoenix Pinions boys had increasingly begun to flirt with the Brightest Witch of Her Age, much to her annoyance.

She herself really couldn't explain her seemingly sudden popularity amongst boys but assumed it was barely based on her physical appearance, just as Ginny had told her in October.

"But why did this start just after the summer break? Have I become THIS attractive in like three months?! I doubt it, I highly doubt it. But then again, Harry wants me physically as well, so something must have happened.." Hermione discussed with herself and furrowed her brows, something she always did when she tried to figure out something.

"Ugh, I guess boys are just hormonal creatures. There's nothing rational about them, it's a waste of time trying to find a logical answer." She concluded after a few minutes of intense pondering.

"I've got more important matters to concentrate on right now anyway.." Hermione said aloud and narrowed her eyes, knowing the day ahead would be a challenging one. But also a rewarding one, if she only played the game correctly…

Harry lay on his bed and stared at the scarlet-red curtains of his four-poster bed, a night filled with restlessness still not a thing of the past.

With headphones in his ears and a Walkman in his hand he tried to calm his racing heart, a natural side-effect of an upcoming quidditch match for him. But it wasn't just any quidditch game.

Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The game he looked forward the most and the least at the same time.

Harry desperately wanted to win the match, for several reasons to boot: Not only would a win bring the house team one step closer to the quidditch cup, but also would a defeat of House Slytherin shut the snakes up for quite some time, which meant less anger for Harry. But most importantly, he wanted to win the match for Hermione.

Harry knew how crazy he had become ever since he realized his love for the Brightest Witch of Her Age, but did he care? No, not the slightest.

"If we're gonna win this thing, I'm so going to spend the entire night with her..", He thought with a broad grin, "Chat, laugh, jest, whatever.. Maybe I'll even be crazy enough to ask her for a dance. They always play music during the parties."

The Boy-Who-Lived was addicted to her at this point, her presence in his life an intoxication he couldn't and wouldn't resist.

Harry could still recall the two days last week ago when Hermione hadn't been feeling too well and thus had to make him battle his way through classes alone: It had been horrible for him.

Without any motivation or whatsoever he had dragged himself through the lessons, and only when Hermione had recovered did he feel his drive re-emerging. He knew this wasn't healthy, and still he didn't want to change a thing about his situation. Well, that's not entirely correct.

Harry of course wanted to tell her how he felt, but found himself shying away again and again. Loving her in secret was easy, but making it official frightened him in a way that not even Voldemort could: The fear of losing the most important person in his life was far more scary than the prospect of his arch-enemy killing him.

"I walked along the avenue. I never thought I'd meet a girl like you! Meet a girl like you!" The singer's voice of "A Flock of Seagulls" sounded through the headphones and Harry sighed lightly as he recognized the song immediately.

"I Ran (So Far Away)" was part of one of the cassettes the Granger's had given him for his fifteenth birthday and ever since he had realized his love for Hermione, the song had become one of his favourites. Every time he listened to it, he felt like the song had been explicitly written for him.

"With auburn hair and tawny eyes.", The lyrics continued and Harry closed his eyes to let his fantasy take over, "The kind of eyes that hypnotize me through, hypnotize me through!"

The raven-haired wizard smiled and felt like the song was written for Hermione as well, the woman referred to in the song being his tawny-eyed beauty of a best friend and him being the moron that couldn't bring out the magical words.

"And I ran! I ran so far away!" The chorus made the hair on his neck stand as he recalled how shaky his entire body had felt when he had seen an older version of Hermione inside the mirror of Erised.

"God, she already makes me rock-hard when she looks at me the wrong way, but the Hermione from the mirror.. That's the definition of hot.", He thought and felt his boxers tenting up just at the thought, "It's hard enough telling a normal woman, how am I supposed to confess my love to a girl that could as well be a goddess?"

"Or a cheerleader." Another voice inside his mind added, making the teenager roll his eyes.

"Ha ha, how funny."

"Well, she always cheers you on, no matter what? Doesn't that make her.."

"Yeah, but she's not THAT kind of cheerleader. Which is a bit unfortunate.." Harry thought and smirked dirtily.

"Imagine you and her, on the party after you've won the match, she's wearing a nice Gryffindor-red skirt and shirt, her golden hair elegantly falling down her back, revealing her sexy neckline..", He fantasized and felt his boxers bulging painfully, "You press her against a wall and snog her senseless, pulling yourself flush against her to feel her heavenly body touching each inch of your own.. Oh fuck, her boobs must feel exquisite.."

Ring, ring, ring. Ring, ring, ring.

Harry groaned when he heard his alarm clock loudly telling him that it was seven o'clock and thus time to get up and face the day ahead.

"Are you kidding me?! Couldn't this happened in five minutes or so?" He thought as he unplugged his headphones and turned off his Walkman before reluctantly getting up from his comfortable position to deactivate his alarm clock.

Harry stored his electronics inside his trunk before pulling out his quidditch robes, his mind still focused on the brunette that set his blood ablaze in the good way.

"I'm so gonna win this for you, babe." He mumbled, only for him to hear as he dressed, feeling elated just by calling her that aloud. Even if the person in question didn't hear it.

When he was ready for his match, Harry went down to the common room and waited for his best friend to meet him there.

The brunette beauty didn't let the raven-haired wizard wait too long, and the second she was in front of him she hugged him stormily and kissed both of his cheeks, something Harry enjoyed with the purest enthusiasm.

"How are you feeling? Have you slept enough?" Her concerned eyes were directed at him and he smiled in return, finding it absolutely heart-warming how much she cared about his well-being.

"I'm fine. Excited, yes, but otherwise I can't complain. Though I never can sleep before a match, you know that." Harry told her and the young woman crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Didn't I advise you to take a sleeping draught yesterday evening?" She asked him and Harry chuckled.

"It's alright, 'Mione. I kind of think a bad night before a match means a win for me, so I gladly take that." He said and the petite witch groaned.

"Pure superstition, I tell you!", She exclaimed before taking his hand and dragging him down towards the Great Hall, "Well then, let me at least fix what still can be fixed. You won't mount a broom today unless you've eaten a healthy amount of food."

Hermione kept her promise when they had reached the Great Hall and made sure her best friend ate as much as he normally would eat. And soon she found out that she didn't even need to force him.

As Harry silently ate his meal under Hermione's careful observation the hall filled up with students and soon the room was split in two camps, just like before any other match.

Lots of people wished Harry good luck for the upcoming match, but soon enough his tunnel vision activated and all he really cared about was the match itself.

He felt like every fibre of his being was working towards this one goal, this one victory, and not even the provocations coming from his opponents could stir as much as a tad of annoyance inside of him.

"I'm gonna get my Firebolt now, 'Mione.", Harry declared when he felt full and got up from the bench, "If I don't mess up then you'll have a few pictures more you can add to your photo album."

"Oh Harry, you won't mess up. You yourself know that." Hermione smiled at him mildly from her seat, her eyes sparkling warmly.

"Just.. don't get hurt, you hear me?" She then asked and he didn't expect her words would touch him the way they did.

"I promise." He told her with a firm nod before turning away from her and leaving the Great Hall. He had a match to win…

Harry was the first of the house team to arrive at the changing rooms, a tradition that was very dear to the Boy-Who-Lived.

It gave him an odd sense of concentration to be all by himself right before the start of a match, the Firebolt in his hands the only companion in the room.

"Focus. You're the seeker. Your goal is to catch the snitch. You determine whether Gryffindor wins or loses. Because of that, the snakes will try to disable you from playing, so be ready for assaults. Don't get injured, you promised it to Hermione..", He thought to himself as he stared at the wall opposite of him before clenching his fists, "Yeah, Hermione. I'll win this for you."

Of course Harry was a bit nervous about the match nonetheless: A lot had changed since the last quidditch match at the end of his third year.

Old players graduated from school, new players replaced them, the dynamic in the team changed.. This was the era of Angelina Johnson now. Oliver Wood was gone.

"And instead of Wood we now have Ron as a keeper.." Harry sighed at the realization and closed his eyes temporarily.

It wasn't like Ron was a bad keeper, but neither was he a brilliant one. Which potentially could make things a lot harder.

Only now did Harry realize what a blessing it had been to have somebody like Oliver Wood keeping the goalhoops clear: A strong keeper meant fewer goals, fewer goals meant fewer points for the enemy team. And in the end all that mattered were points when it came to the quidditch cup.

"Ah, Harry. Early as always." The voice of Angelina Johnson snapped him out of his thoughts and the Gryffindor seeker glimpsed twice to regain focus of his environment.

The black-haired woman came to a stop in front of Harry and took a deep breath.

"I know this might be weird for you, but could you do the pep talk today? I know, usually the captain does it, but your pep talks during the Phoenix Pinions lessons are always so effective and passionate.. And besides, you'll have to do them next year anyway once you're the captain." She winked at him and Harry smiled mildly.

"Oh right, you'll be gone next year as well. How time flies by..", He mused before coming back to her question, "But yeah, I can do that."

At his last remark, the young woman shot him a grateful smile, a pretty smile Harry added, before sitting down on the bench opposite of him.

"She certainly is pretty.. but not my type. I like them blonde, and with creamy-white skin.." He quickly shoved his thought away when he realized that Angelina was speaking to him again.

"Uh, sorry, can you say that again?" He asked, feeling his cheeks warming up in embarrassment.

"Too focused on the match, ey?" She half-joked and Harry quickly nodded.

"Well, it's another kind of game, so she's kinda right." He thought with a mental grin.

"I asked you what you're always doing when you're alone in this room before the matches." Angelina repeated and Harry chuckled lightly.

"I motivate and prepare myself." He summed up and the black girl slightly leant forwards.

"How do you motivate yourself?"

"I think about my friends. How happy it would make them if the team wins.", Harry explained and Angelina nodded, "But why are you asking?"

"I might be a bit too obsessed by this sport, but I find it highly interesting to know where other players take their strength from." She explained and this time Harry nodded.

"Which of course is important to know when you're the captain of a team. Helps him or her to motivate the others." He remarked and the seventh year grinned.

"That's exactly why I just told Hermione to wear as much Gryffindor-red clothes as possible." She said and laughed when she saw Harry's eyes widening in terror.

"Oh come on, don't pretend like you're not interested in her!" She exclaimed with an amused look and just as Harry wanted to retort, the door to the changing rooms opened.

"Hey Angie, how are you?", Katie went over to her friend and hugged her briefly, "You'll do great as our new captain today, I know it."

"Hermione.. is gonna wear Gryffindor-red today?", Was everything Harry could think of meanwhile, "And Angelina knows about my feelings? How obvious am I then?"

Harry soon lost himself in his thoughts again as the rest of the team gradually entered the changing rooms…

After a short yet impactful pep talk, Harry found himself walking onto the quidditch pitch, the frosty grass underneath his feet crunching just so slightly.

The crowds roared and cheered the second the players of both teams entered the pitch and Harry could see dozens of flags and banners being swung through the air: One kind was scarlet-red and gold, the other kind jade-green and silver.

His heart was thrumming loudly in his chest, the hair on his neck was standing and his arms were covered by goose bumps: He was most definitely at a quidditch match.

The air was literally crackling with tension and when Harry spotted Draco Malfoy and his team walking towards the Gryffindors, this feeling only amplified.

Both teams came to a stop in front of each other and formed a half-circle, facing their opponents with grim determination.

Referee Madam Hooch then entered the pitch, carrying the box that contained the match balls, and positioned herself in the middle of the two player-consisting semicircles.

"Alright folks, I want a clean and fair match, is that clear?" She asked as she put down the box on the ground and opened it before retrieving the quaffle from it.

"Captains, shake hands!" She ordered and Angelina reluctantly walked towards the captain of Slytherin, a bloke called Montague, before briefly touching his hand. That's as close to a handshake as it would get between those two arch-rivals.

"At least he didn't try to break her fingers.." Harry thought as Angelina got ready for take-off next to him, her eyes fixed on the red ball in the referee's hand now.

"On my whistle!" Madam Hooch called and Harry tightened the grip on his Firebolt.

"One.." He glanced to his left and saw Fred and George Weasley bringing their beater bats in a position to strike the Bludgers at the first opportunity.

"Two." Harry glanced to his right and noticed Ron taking a deep breath, making the raven-haired wizard feel a bit of empathy for his ex-friend.

"You can do it..", He thought to himself before directing his gaze at a Gryffindor spectator stand, "And even if you don't, I'll win this, Hermione.."

He didn't know on which stand Hermione sat, all he knew was that he kicked himself of the ground with all his might when the whistle was blown, fourteen figures on broomsticks immediately beginning to zoom across the pitch.

Lee Jordan started his usual commenting as Harry circled around the pitch, searching for any sign of the tiny, golden ball that would end the match.

He noticed Malfoy closely observing him from the other side of the pitch and knew that it was more likely that the blonde boy would catch the snitch because of his observations rather than his own seeker skills.

"How I hate that twat.." Harry mumbled to himself as he noticed a Slytherin chaser making it's way to Ron goalhoops.

His hate only amplified when he heard some kind of song coming from the Slytherin stands, a song designed solely to make Ron lose his confidence and morale.

The text was ugly, it truly was, and even if the Boy-Who-Lived couldn't stand the redhead, he still felt like Ron didn't deserve to be bullied this brutally.

"I'm so gonna kick their arses after this.." Harry thought with boiling rage inside of him after Slytherin had indeed taken the lead because of their tricks.

Partially searching the snitch and partially observing the match, he watched the Gryffindor counter-offensive and felt the rate of his heartbeats increasing when Angelina closed in on the goalhoops.

But then, like out of thin air, two of the Slytherin chasers squashed the Gryffindor captain between them and effectively put an end to her attack.

A bludger then came flying straight for the captain's face, and it was only due to Angelina's incredible agility that she managed to dodge this foul assault.

"FREE THROW FOR GRYFFINDOR!" Madam Hooch yelled across the pitch and Harry couldn't resist clapping alongside the masses of Gryffindor fans.

"Serves them right.." He thought as Angelina positioned herself to take the free throw.

The Gryffindor captain didn't hesitate a second and threw the quaffle straight through the right goalhoop when Madam Hooch blew her whistle, making the crowd go wild. The keeper didn't stand a chance.

"EQUALIZER!" Lee Jordan cheerfully announced and from a stand to his right, Harry heard what sounded like a magically-amplified roar of a lion.

He turned to the source of the sound and found himself looking at Luna Lovegood, a huge hat that resembled the lion of Gryffindor on top of her head.

Harry grinned at her and flashed her a thumbs-up before the person next to Luna caught his attention.

"Go, Harry!" Hermione called from the top of her lungs and raised a fist into the air, her Gryffindor-red clothes looking so damn gorgeous on her that the seeker just managed an idiotic, loop-sided grin.

"HARRY!" The voice of Angelina Johnson ripped him out of his dreamworld and Harry gave her an apologetic smile before refocusing on his task.

"Make sure you'll catch the snitch ASAP!" She called after him and the seeker nodded, completely understanding his captain's sense of urgency.

The game then continued with a distinct advantage for Slytherin, since all the snakes had to do in order to score a goal was to chant their song to paralyse Ron.

After like fifteen minutes into the game the score was hundred-sixty for Slytherin and Harry was fuming as he flew his circles all over the pitch, completely unable to change the situation for his team without the snitch.

"Ugh, every offensive of ours gets brutally and illegally stopped by them!" Harry hissed under his breath after witnessing what felt like the tenth attempt of Gryffindor to counter-attack.

"The beaters always target our chasers and their chasers literally try to kill ours!", He thought, "And I can't stop them! Unless.."

Not wasting another second, Harry suddenly dived as steeply as his excellent broom allowed him to.

It didn't take longer than three seconds for Malfoy to notice Harry's conspicuous movements and mere moments later he noticed several figures in green trying to block his way downwards.

"Hundred-seventy for Slytherin!" Lee Jordan announced through the microphone and Harry smiled inwardly, knowing that his distraction already had paid off.

In contrast to his awareness, the oblivious Slytherins continued trying to stop the seeker, thinking that he had seen the snitch.

"Let's see how you handle this.." Harry thought when he was closing in on the ground, his pursuers not far behind.

With a mixture of skill and luck the Boy-Who-Lived then pulled up sharply, making him soar into the skies again as the Slytherin players desperately stopped their brooms to avoid a collision with the ground.

"Oh, seems like Montague was stupid enough to follow Potter all the way!" Lee Jordan laughed through the microphone when the Slytherin captain hadn't been as lucky as his teammates and crashed into the ground, the loud cracking sound of a splintering broom echoing across the pitch.

A loud gasp went through the crowd and the Slytherin fans suddenly became oddly quiet. Even when it was obvious that Montague hadn't died.

"Harry James Potter, you're an absolute arse!" He heard Hermione yelling at him from one of the Gryffindor stands he passed and slowed down to look her directly in the eye.

"Hey, it paid off! Only thirty points backlog and we've got one more player than them now." He smirked at her with a mischievous grin before returning to his objective.

"And Potter can't help flirting with Granger, which of course is understandable. I mean, look at that girl! She's two years below me and even I want to.." Lee Jordan then was interrupted by Professor McGonagall.

"JORDAN!" She shouted and Harry wanted nothing more than to just dig his head into the earth and pretend to be dead. This was the definition of embarrassing.

The match became significantly fairer after Harry's trick, the missing chants from the Slytherins helping Ron to keep his nerves in the important situations. And also it might have something to do with the snakes missing their captain.

"One hundred and fifty-one-hundred and forty.." Harry whispered after ten more minutes or so, the equalization so close now. And yet nothing was decided until the snitch was caught.

Right now he feared that Malfoy might catch the snitch any moment and make all the hard team effort of his house obsolete – something the seeker tried to prevent to the best of his ability.

Keeping a close eye on the blonde boy, Harry circled his rival like a hawk circled above his pray. And how that paid off.

From one glimpse to the next, Malfoy was suddenly shooting towards the goalposts at the other side of the pitch, arm outstretched and gaze fixated, and Harry's eyes widened as instincts took over.

Urging on his broom to the maximum velocity, he flashed across the field like a bolt of lightning, taking no consideration of the risk of his actions. All that mattered was that he gained on Malfoy.

Harry could see the tiny golden ball by now, a dot of shimmering metal closer to his opponent than to his own hand.

"C'mon, c'mon.." He thought as the tip of his broom now was on level with the rear end of Malfoy's Nimbus 2001.

"Fuck off, Potter!" The Slytherin seeker noticed his presence and briskly moved right, trying to knock Harry off of his Firebolt.

Harry being Harry, dodged the attack by doing a barrel roll that had the spectators gasping and then chanting "Potter! Potter!" when he soundly sat atop his broom again.

The cheering masses motivated Harry even more, and when he realized that the snitch coincidentally moved closer to Malfoy than it moved in his direction, he only saw one solution: He had to jump.

Praying to all the gods that he would survive his suicide mission, Harry pushed himself off of his broom, hands outstretched, and caught the snitch in his hands. For a split second relief washed through his body.

Then he hit the ground and heard a deafening crack as he rolled over the frosty grass for what felt like a hundred times before coming to a stop close to the goalposts. Sharp pain moved through his left arm the second he lay still.

"HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! AND OH MY, WHAT A HERO THAT BOY IS!", Lee Jordan almost swallowed the microphone as he screamed every bit of his enthusiasms out of his body, "GRYFFINDOR WINS THE GAME TWO HUNDRED AND NINETY-ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY!"

As the masses roared and clapped and cheered, Harry lay on the grass and stared upwards into the sky, moaning his head off because of the pain in his arm.

"Oh fuck, that's one obliterated arm.", He groaned as he held the snitch in his right, unharmed hand, "Hermione's gonna kill me."

Biting his tongue to ease the searing pain on his left, he got up from the ground with a face contorted by anguish and faced the masses that still were expressing their joy to the fullest.

"How did you like the song I created to motivate the Weasel?", Malfoy's voice announced itself from behind, "I bet you loved it since you're no longer friends with that moron."

"Yeah, I can't like him. That's true. But nobody deserves to be at the receiving end of your stupidity, Malfoy." Harry countered and the blonde Slytherin stepped closer to him menacingly.

"And nobody deserves to be exposed to the stench of blood-traitors and mudbloods!" He growled, easily provoked, and Harry's jaw tightened as his eyes ignited with fury.

"Just as I thought.. Harry Potter, always hanging around the scum of our society. I'd demand payment for letting the mudblood bitch even touch me." Malfoy responded and his smirk became smugger with every second as he saw Harry killing him with his eyes.

"C'mon, make him pay for what he said.. Hurt him so badly that he'll be begging you to stop." The devil inside of him spoke up and Harry really thought about the option for a second until a much brighter idea sprang to his mind. He instead chose to force a smile and step closer to the heir of House Malfoy.

"At least my bitch is attractive. Look at yours, Pansy is as flat as a ten-year-old girl and has a face like a horse. Dammit Malfoy, you must be very desperate if you fuck a girl like her." Harry whispered and when the Slytherin didn't come up with a coherent counter he just walked away from him, towards the stand where he was sure Hermione would emerge from any second now.

Crack.

The air left Harry's lungs as he felt like his skull had been split in two, making the pain inside his left arm feel like tingle.

The spectators screamed in utter horror and Harry's eyes rolled back into their sockets before he slumped down, a black nothingness claiming his consciousness the second his body hit the ground like a sack of flour…

The dark lord laughed when he finally had found the entrance to the tomb he so desperately wanted to find.

"Fargo Woods.. A small forest next to the relics of what once was the door to the Elegia. So.. inconspicuous. And yet that place is dripping with dark magic." Voldemort said to himself in a whispering voice as he strode towards the collapsed ruin of what appeared to be the remains of an abandoned underground tunnel.

The ceiling had partially caved in and would expose the structure to the sunlight during the day, a foot-wide, visible gap in the otherwise earth-covered ground.

Voldemort could feel truly powerful spells protecting the ancient tunnel and knew that any other wizard would never be able to see the collapsed structure in the first place. But he was different, of that he was sure.

He was the son of darkness, the man that would be able to finish what the Seven had failed to achieve: Perpetual domination.

As the dark lord came closer, the gap in the earth suddenly widened, revealing a two-metre wide underground corridor beneath his feet.

His body subtly tingled with excitement, something he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Voldemort climbed down into the tunnel, the moon's gentle light the only source of light in an otherwise impossibly black corridor.

The second his feet touched the stone ground, the gap in the ceiling closed entirely, darkness swallowing him whole. But the dark lord didn't need any light in order to see.

Voldemort confidently strode through the corridor, relishing in the amount of necromancy he could feel around him. Pitch blackness was the colour of his most powerful ally: The shadows.

"Stop playing games with me. I know what's hidden here." The dark lord commanded in parsel tongue and his voice echoed through the seemingly endless corridor in a truly disturbing way.

"I am the son of the darkness, the one promised to finish your work!" He continued and it seemed like the tunnel became oddly quiet at his declaration.

"Are you?" A deep and bone-chilling voice responded in the language of necromancers, the two syllables so piercing that Voldemort felt like they were echoing not through the corridor but through his mind. The dark lord stopped.

"I have been reborn in a dark ritual, my claim to rule is unequivocal and undisputed." He stated in the same language and the voice from the shadows laughed at him, a sound that would be enough to traumatize the mere mortals.

"Undisputed? Your soul.. is split. Your mind..", The darkness made a dramatic pause, "Is connected to the person you wish to destroy. How do you wish to rule alone when a part of you lives within another?"

"He could claim the title just as well as you.."

"Or he could exploit your connection."

"Destroy you through it."

"Make you lose your mind."

"Or your senses.."

"And torture you endlessly."

Seven sentences belonging to seven voices rang through the tunnel and Voldemort's mind, making the dark lord feel like the outsider he was in that moment.

"Harry Potter is a boy. He knows no power greater than mine." He cooly replied and again the darkness laughed at him.

"A boy with extraordinary potential.. Both the light and the darkness within him make him stronger by the day. He knows hate as much as he knows love. He wants to inflict pain on those who harm his friends and beloved. Yes, he even relishes in it, but is too afraid to utilize this joy."

"His dark side is a result of our connection. The boy is a creature of the light." Voldemort countered but the voice from the shadow chuckled creepily.

"Hermione. Granger. The woman he loves so much..", The darkness pretended to sigh, "He wouldn't refrain from anything if she asked him to do it. His love for her could corrupt him.. even if he doesn't realize it yet."

"His love for her will make him overprotective of her. Make him fear more."

"Fear leads to anger."

"Anger leads to hate."

"Hate leads to suffering."

"Suffering leads to corruption."

"Corruption to immorality."

"And immorality.. to necromancy." The seven voices again completed the explanation together, a tone of satisfaction and anticipation accompanying their words.

"The Potter boy is in love? How do you know all that?" Voldemort spat out like love was the most ugly thing in the world.

"We've watched this world in tranquillity for millennia to witness a descendant like you.. but since you are connected to the boy, he is as much of importance for us as you are." The voice from the void answered.

"Are you trying to say that Harry Potter is as much a son of the darkness as I am?!" The dark lord gripped his wand tightly and pointed it into the endless darkness ahead of him.

"No. The boy is connected to you, which is the sole reason why he could be considered a descendant of ours.. Despite the evil and the power potential that slumbers within him." Voldemort then lowered his wand, satisfied with the answer.

"Were you just trying to threaten us with your wand, Tom Riddle?" The void then laughed and the next second Voldemort felt his feet leaving the ground as he found himself hanging in the air, despite all his efforts to cancel the spell.

"You pride yourself to be the strongest wizard alive.. But what is the power of Lord Voldemort compared to more than three thousand years of knowledge?!" The dark lord then was pulled through the tunnel by an invisible force, the endless black corridor passing by in flashes until he abruptly found himself stopping in the gigantic hall he desperately had tried to find.

His feet then touched the ground again and Voldemort took in the sight of seven mighty coffins and statues made out of obsidian surrounding him. They were aligned in a circle, menacingly facing the dark lord.

Tall they were, seven feet to be precise, and carved out of pitch black stone that flawlessly mixed with the hue of their coffins.

The statues of the Seven looked like knights with terrifying and grotesque ornaments, wearing spiked helmets and armour that covered their bodies, each of them carrying a weapon more abhorrent than the next.

One by one Voldemort took in their appearance, their armoured limbs and digits the most impressive architecture he had ever seen - and also the most unnerving. But one stood out amongst all the over six knight-like statues.

Bearing an iron crown upon his head, seven prongs circularly aligned and sharp enough to pierce metal, he firmly gripped a massive, jagged and spiked mace. And Voldemort immediately knew he was looking at what once had to be the leader of the Seven.

"For an eternity have we craved to see the world under one dark lord's rule. What we started shall be terminated by you and the world will know of how the past helped the present to shape the future." The leader's dark voice declared, "But how do you intend us to serve, my liege? We are just what our physical forms had determined us to be, statues in a monumental tomb, hidden for everybody but a son of the darkness. Our magic is useless outside of this building, except the magic that is our wisdom and advice. For you can still learn from us, Lord Voldemort."

"Yes.. the limitation of your powers truly is a pity." The dark lord almost sighed, fully ignoring the last comment.

"And as to how you can serve your new master for now, I tell you this: Patience. Soon enough you will be an essential pillar of my victorious master plan." Lord Voldemort then laughed like the demonic creature he was and raised his arms, fully relishing in his latest success: He was another step closer to guaranteed immortality. And as the dark lord laughed at the top of the lungs, Harry woke with a scream on his lips…


Author's note:

This chapter actually is just the first half of what I would consider "Chapter 22", but when I reread my script for it, I thought it would be better to split it into two seperate units. That's why the title of chapter 22A is "The perfect kiss..". You'll see that the second part will complete the sentence I began here.

A small warning: I don't know how quickly I'll be able to write and upload chapter 22B since next week is most likely going to be the most intense week of the entire half-year of school for me, so.. please prepare to live with this cliffhanger for a bit.

Speaking of cliffhangers I'll straight jump into my thoughts about the plot: As you've just witnessed, I designed the Tomb of the Seven to be a monument or relic of a long, forgotten time. Not an arsenal of weapons or treasures.. just a remain of a rule of seven necromancers, dark wizards that Voldemort can connect to and can teach him a lesson. I promised it wouldn't be something overpowered, even if you guys might think it would be the more logical choice for such a dramatic build-up - Something I can fully understand. But you know, I wanted things to be the way they are now and hopefully you'll understand my reasoning in a few chapters. Yeah, we're still not done here, who would have thought?

But to be honest with you, I think if you read the signs correctly, then I'm sure you already know how the Seven will come in handy for Voldemort. And if you don't, it's no problem. We'll all know more in the future.

So, the quidditch match.. I again looked up the canon scene and as you just read, my version has a vastly different ending. But also was the canon description of the match quite short, so I just took that as a sign to unleash my creativity and write what I would deem a appropriately-sized description of the match. I'm really beginning to wonder why "The Order of the Phoenix" has this many pages when the important bits are this compressed. Well, who am I to criticize?

There is only one song I included in this chapter and it's "I Ran (So Far Away)" by A Flock of Seagulls, a song I just recently discovered during my UK trip a month ago. But dammit, do I love it! The second I read the lyrics and saw the first verse I just knew I had to include it in my story. "With auburn hair and tawny eyes.", c'mon! That's so close to Hermione's appearance.

And last but not least, a little fun fact: As of today, May 5th 2023, it's exactly two years ago since I read my first Harry x Hermione fanfiction. It had been a wonderful moment in my life. If I just had known where this one decision would lead me eventually... Now I'm a hardcore shipper and write my own little fantasy version of harmonious perfectness ;-)

Anyway, I'll shut up now. Who reads AN's anyway when they are this scarily long? Leave a review if you do!

'Til the next time!

NewOrderFan05

P.S: Small update: We're nearly at 50k views on this story. That's half of 100k. I can't comprehend this any more...