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Harry Potter and the Perversion of Purity

By ACI100

Book 4: The Deadliest of Games

Chapter 1: Gathering Shadows

July 9, 1994

Malfoy Manor

9:45 PM

Harry paid the scarlet eyes that watched him little heed as he peered around the long, dark room he had seen only in his dreams. Each time he looked in someone's direction, they stared back with narrowed eyes. You can do so much with magic, he thought, but a silver mask is enough to hide behind.

"Shall we begin?" asked Voldemort, twirling a pale wand between his chalk-white fingers. No one spoke. "Such a quiet bunch," the Dark Lord mused. "Come now, we can't all be so shy."

"It is an honour, my lord," said a dark-haired woman whose face was drawn and gaunt. She looked like a different person than the one who had been sent to Azkaban nearly thirteen years ago. "Our silence comes only from awe," the skeletal husk of a woman went on. "The most loyal among us knew you would return, but seeing it is different."

Voldemort's knife-thin smile cut in ways no blade could ever have. "I hope that is the only reason for your silence. Tell me, Bella, how are you recovering from your ordeal?"

Lestrange swept slack hair out of her eyes and grinned. "I'm eager to serve, my lord."

Voldemort turned towards two large men whose eyes appeared a long way off. "What about you, Rabastan, Rudolphus?"

Rabastan jolted, almost as if he had not realized the room was occupied. "It's… slow, my lord." His brother nodded along, a gesture mirrored by pale-faced Antonin Dolohov when the Dark Lord's eyes came to rest on him.

"Continue your work." The red eyes sought the house's owner. "You had news, Lucius?"

Harry glanced toward the final Azkaban escapee present and could not help but wonder why he had been skipped over. Rookwood appeared the sanest of them all with his plain face and unwavering expression, but there was doubtlessly a damaged mind behind his placid mask.

"Yes, my lord," Lucius said. "The Triwizard Tournament will begin this autumn. The travelling students will depart Hogwarts on October 1st."

Harry would really get to see Durmstrang. He smiled beneath the silver mask. He could all but feel the wind bite at his robes as he imagined travelling that icy path, descending down the mountain, flanked by golems made entirely from ice.

Voldemort's snake hissed, slithering out from underneath the table and up its master's chair, coiling around the Dark Lord's shoulders as he stroked the serpent with a bone-white hand. "Are we all familiar with the Triwizard Tournament?" Harry nodded wordlessly alongside Lucius, Regulus, and Barty Crouch.

"It was an inter-school competition held centuries ago," the Dark Lord explained. "Its purpose was to strengthen international relations and pit the three preeminent schools on the continent against the others. Each school was to be represented by a champion and three tasks would decide the victor. It endured for centuries but was discontinued when the death toll grew too high." There was a rippling murmur indicating comprehension. "Continue, Lucius."

"The documentation is being submitted this evening. The first task will take place at Durmstrang in November. The travelling students will remain there until the winter solstice and will then arrive at Beauxbatons in time for the Yule Ball and then the second task. The third will take place at Hogwarts, where they will arrive soon before the Easter holidays."

"What are our thoughts?" Voldemort asked the room at large.

Tiberius Nott drummed his fingers on the table's edge. "I don't know what you want us to do with this, my lord. What use is a children's tournament?"

"It can be used," Rabastan Lestrange broke in.

Voldemort continued to stroke his serpent's scales. "How so?"

"The tournament will be widely watched, will it not?" Lestrange.

"It will," said Crouch. "There will be large venues constructed at each school and the tournament will be well-publicized. Thousands will come and watch each task."

Lestrange rubbed his hands together. "Then it's an opportunity." Harry met the man's dark eyes through the slits in his silver mask but regretted it at once. There was naught but madness in them. "Fear is the ultimate weapon. What better way to spread it than by using this tournament?"

"What goal does it serve?" Regulus inquired. "The Dark Lord wishes to keep our movements cloaked in shadow. Will making an international scene not risk that purpose?"

Rabastan Lestrange scowled. "It can be done."

Regulus remained firm. "Can is not should."

"It is something to consider." The Dark Lord's speech was soft, but it quelled the argument like a spark stamped out under the weight of a steel-toed boot. Voldemort turned back to Lucius. "Have you heard what the students will be doing between tasks?"

Lucius's robes rustled as he shifted in his chair. "No, my lord. I had not considered asking."

Voldemort's expression was unchanged. "Barty?" Why would Crouch know? He had been broken out of his father's house mere months prior.

The straw-haired scarecrow of a man was swift in disproving Harry's skepticism. "They will study under the professors of each school they reside at, my lord."

"Interesting. Continue observing, both of you."

Tiberius's right hand fussed with his thinning hair. His left rested on the table, inside a silver glove. "Excuse my questions, my lord, but how is Crouch observing? Does he have eyes in the ministry?"

Voldemort's faint laughter was a soft sound like the crackling of logs inside an open flame. "Tell them, Barty."

"My father is dead." Crouch said it the way a child might brag about a bit of cleverness. "I have replaced him in his position at the ministry."

Harry could not help but suck in a sharp breath. They had been more active than he had imagined. Crouch Sr. had been the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. If Crouch Jr. had replaced him, it was a massive coup for Voldemort.

"Brilliant." It was the first word Harry had heard Rookwood utter.

Tiberius cleared his throat. "While we're talking about schools and offices, what news of Dumbledore?"

All eyes turned to Lucius, who sipped a glass of wine and lounged back in his chair. "Dumbledore will not return to Hogwarts."

"Is that confirmed?" Tiberius demanded.

Lucius set down the glass and licked his lips. "Not yet, but that news is forthcoming. The Board of Governors are all but convinced and Fudge's opinion of the old man has soured. Our esteemed minister is considering Dumbledore's removal from the Wizengamot."

Harry turned that over in his mind. Hogwarts without Dumbledore… It felt wrong somehow.

"There is one more piece of business this evening," Voldemort said with nonchalance.

"The Potter boy," said Bellatrix Lestrange, clenching the table hard enough to deprive her knuckles of their flow of blood.

"My son is close with the boy," Tiberius cut in. "I'm sure I could arrange something." Theodore would not go along with such things, would he?

"Let me kill him, my lord," cooed Bellatrix Lestrange. "Let me prove myself, let me show that I am loyal. I just need a wand. Any wand will do."

"There will be no need for that, Bella." Voldemort's lips curled into an awful smile. "Remove your mask, Harry."

All air was sucked out of the room as Harry reached up and removed the silver mask.

"My lord—"

"Quiet, Antonin," the Dark Lord purred. "The Boy-Who-Lived has come to serve. Isn't that right, Harry."

Harry forced himself to smile as King John's ring grew cold upon his finger. "Yes, my lord."

Some time later…

A soft breeze sighed through high hedges and blew through vast gardens filled with blooming flowers. The light wind sent their scents wafting up to the balcony whose railing Harry leant over and stirred up strands of raven hair so that they splayed across his forehead and obscured his scar from view.

How did I get here? The past three years had flashed by and left him little time to process, but his mind provided him a prompt answer. What had he expected, getting between the three most powerful men alive?

His fingers curled around the railing. They could control things for now, but not forever.

Harry heard the quiet creak of a step behind him right before the Dark Lord spoke. "What do you make of the most devout of my followers?"

Harry no longer flinched when hearing that high voice, but still the hairs along the back of his neck stood themselves on end. "I don't think some of them liked me much," he said, recalling the malicious glint in Bellatrix Lestrange's eyes. It was fortunate none of the escapees were armed with wands.

Voldemort stepped up beside him. "They will see you differently, in time. It is loyalty they value."

Harry chewed his words. "I noticed Bellatrix Lestrange said something about the most loyal. Was there more to that?"

"Bellatrix went to Azkaban rather than betray me. She never considered claiming the Imperius Defence. Doing so is condemnation in her eyes."

"And what do you think?" Harry asked.

"Bella is correct. The most loyal went to Azkaban rather than denounce me and their choices." There was no malice in the Dark Lord's words, but neither was there any doubt. "The difference is that I am less emotional than Bellatrix and a great deal saner. The disloyal are not forgiven, but they are accepted. People like Lucius have positioned themselves well and all this would not have happened so soon without their aid." Harry merely nodded, unsure what else to say. "What did you make of the details Lucius shared?"

"I thought they were interesting," Harry admitted. "I didn't expect to be taking classes from the other schools' professors, but I guess it makes sense."

"Take advantage. Hogwarts offers the world's most well-rounded education, but it is weak in certain areas. Durmstrang will teach you magic Hogwarts vilifies and Beauxbatons has its own strengths. You will make the best of them."

Harry had the sudden urge to laugh. What were the odds of the two greatest dark lords in history simultaneously pouring so much time into the education of a single teenager? "Of course, my lord,"

"Good. You will be of great use when the time comes, but you must prepare." A soft hissing sounded from behind them and Voldemort's snake slithered out onto the balcony. "Be calm, Harry. You, of all people, have nothing to fear from Nagini."

"How did you know I was a Parselmouth?" he asked. "Did Malfoy tell you?"

"It is a difficult secret to keep." Voldemort turned his head to look at him. "Such an interesting gift, Parseltongue. Did you know we were just speaking it?" Harry could not suppress the widening of his eyes in time. "No, I thought not."

"How do I fix that? Not knowing when I used it?"

"Use it more often," Voldemort replied. "Have you stumbled across Slytherin's journal?"

"I haven't read all of it yet, but yeah, I did."

"That's written in Parselscript." Voldemort said it in an offhand sort of way. "No one but a Parselmouth can read it, but I imagine you were unaware."

Harry rubbed his temples. "Magic makes no sense sometimes."

"I beg to differ," the Dark Lord said. "Magic is about intent. You intended to communicate with me, so magic allowed it. You intended to read Slytherin's journal, so magic allowed it. Is it really so hard to comprehend?"

Harry remembered discussing something similar with Grindelwald.

"It is the belief of many that magic found its roots in the creative mind. Some believe that things once sprung into being to match how we perceived the world. Those who support this idea often cite that the creation process is the root of all magic and claim that what we use today is the same force that has been weakened by time and stagnation."

"I guess not," Harry admitted. "It's a bit hard using Parseltongue more often, though. It's not something I want spreading."

"And why not?" the Dark Lord asked.

Trepidation rose up in him. "Most people don't think highly of Parselmouths."

"That can be changed." Voldemort had a way of saying things with utter confidence, as if their truth was inexorable. Grindelwald was much the same.

Harry kept his face schooled. "Are you telling me to reveal it?"

Voldemort gave a slight shrug of his slender shoulders. "It is of no consequence to me yet. I'm only telling you the truth." Voldemort paused to peer out over the hedges. "Nagini, come." The snake slithered around his feet, then slowly up onto his shoulders. "You can practice over the summer. Nagini will often be unattended and the pair of you can converse until you find the language more… intuitive."

That sounded like an excellent way for Voldemort to spy on him, but Harry gave a gracious bow. "Thank you."

"Have you made much progress utilizing the boon you asked of me?"

"Not really," Harry told him with a grimace. "It's the hardest thing I've ever done and I haven't practiced much. It's a bit risky."

"We will work on it this summer," Voldemort decided. "I intend for you to learn much these next months. Many of those you saw tonight will soon begin instructing you."

Restless yearning bubbled up inside him. One day he would be strong enough to stand on his own two feet, no matter who sought to drag him down. "What about you?" he asked. "You said you'll help me with that?"

"I will instruct you only when I have time and less often than the others, but you must be prepared and no one can prepare you better than I."

"When will all that start?" Harry asked. "The instruction, I mean."

Voldemort smiled. "Soon."

Harry's next smile came with the utter ease of breathing. "I'm looking forward to starting."

Author's Endnote:

Welcome to book 4! I apologize for the long wait but am excited to be back.

Chapters will be posted here each Thursday, but early access can be gained via joining my Discord server or signing up to m page for those who might be eager.

i should also mention that since this fic was last updated, I have posted a new story called The Road to Hell. I believe it is the best fanfiction I have written and it too uploads every week, so I encourage anyone who might be interested to go give it a try.

A special thank you to my high-tier patron, Cup, for her generous and unwavering support.

PS: The next chapter will be out in one week. Remember that chapters can be read early on Discord, YouTube, an N! All those links are on my profile, and if any give you trouble, use my website's homepage. That site can be found via a generic Google search of my pen name.