Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns everything. I, in turn, own nothing.

Acknowledgements: Thank you to my editor, Athena Hope, as well as my betas: 3CP, Regress, Thanos, and Thobeobo for their contributions.

ANYONE WHO JOINS MY DISCORD SERVER CAN READ EIGHT CHAPTERS AHEAD OF WHAT IS POSTED HERE!

If you want even earlier access, then sign up to my P*T*E*N page. They are currently MORE THAN THIRTY CHAPTERS ahead of FFN.

Those links are on my profile. If any give you trouble, use the direct links on my website's homepage.

Harry Potter and the Perversion of Purity

By ACI100

Book 4: The Deadliest of Games

Chapter 5: Strengthening Shadows

August 12, 1994

Malfoy Manor

9:00 PM

The heavy oak door swung shut and Lucius's footsteps padded across the drawing room. It was always Lucius who was the last one to arrive.

"Let us begin," Voldemort said from his place at the table's head. "What news, Lucius?"

Lucius licked his lips. Whatever it is, it's good. "It is expected that Dumbledore will resign on Sunday, officially leaving the post of Hogwarts Headmaster."

Harry's stomach clenched. The Death Eaters pounded fists against the table and wore broad grins, but it was not so great a thing for him. If Voldemort won too fast…

"Who will replace him?" Voldemort asked once the celebratory din had run its course.

"The ministry plans to choose his replacement," Lucius replied.

"Can they even do that?" Regulus asked. "I was under the impression their power was limited when it came to Hogwarts."

Lucius flicked his hand. "The important question isn't whether they can, but whether anyone else can stop them."

"Good for us, aye?" asked a skeleton of a man whose voice was high and reedy.

Carrow, Harry remembered. Him and his sister weren't at the last meeting. They were Azkaban escapees but had been in no shape for social life back then. Harry wondered how many others would recuperate enough to join in these meetings soon enough.

"Who will it be?" Voldemort asked, sounding for all the world as if he was asking after that night's dinner.

Lucius swirled a glass of wine. "I think Fudge's wish is to install Madam Umbridge."

Voldemort was studying his wand. Or pretending to. Hogwarts had been home for Tom Riddle and Harry knew how much that meant. One did not simply put such attachments aside. "I am unfamiliar with this Umbridge."

"She is the minister's undersecretary, my lord," Lucius explained. "She began in the Department of Magical Education before pursuing a more ambitious path."

"Intriguing." Voldemort still sounded disinterested. Too disinterested. "What are your opinions of her? Do you think she'll fill the position well?"

A sly smirk played across Lucius Malfoy's lips. "I think she will do whatever is most likely to advance her career."

Voldemort returned Malfoy's thin smile. "And I trust you will ensure that the best thing for Madam Umbridge's career is in line with our ambitions."

"Of course, my lord."

Harry shoved down a swell of bitterness. He had not anticipated how much their meddling at Hogwarts would upset him. Why did everyone insist on dragging children into things?

"What else?" Voldemort asked.

"The plans have been finalized for the Quidditch World Cup," Lucius continued. "I have the layout mapped and know where each country's attendees will be situated."

"Are we planning anything at the World Cup?" asked Rabastan, leaning forward in his chair. Harry watched him closely. There was a measure of sanity about him which had been absent last time.

Dolohov wrung his hands. "We could destabilize things if an attack were to happen. It would be easy enough framing another nation—"

"We will do nothing." Voldemort's voice cut through Dolohov's words like a knife through hot butter. "The ministry is destabilizing itself well enough on its own. Isn't that right, Lucius?"

"Yes, my lord. The ministry continues insisting that our friends here are dead while Dumbledore shouts about your return into an empty void. The public is skeptical of both parties and believe neither. Many think Dumbledore is trying to repair his reputation while the ministry tries covering their incompetence."

"Well, they're right about one thing, aren't they?" Tiberius Nott asked with a sharp smile. "And I can't blame them for the other. It must look awfully convenient. The lowest his reputation has ever been, and suddenly the Dark Lord returns and only Dumbledore has a hope of stopping him."

Bellatrix slammed her hand against the table and threw a hateful glare toward Tiberius. Harry jolted. Bloody hell. "Dumbledore has no hope against the Dark Lord!" she hissed. "The Dark Lord would crush him the same way he crushed the others."

Harry remembered Dumbledore flashing through blue flames and the horrible burning as acid rain ate through Grindelwald's flesh.

"Dumbledore is the most skillful magician I have ever seen," Grindelwald had said, "and it is my opinion none have ever surpassed him."

"Easy, Bella." Voldemort twirled his wand through long, pale fingers. "Dumbledore will die when the time is right." Harry watched him for any signs of trepidation, but saw none.

"My lord," Dolohov said, wringing his hands and with madness in his eyes, "do you not see value in subterfuge at the World Cup?"

"Subterfuge? Is that what you call it, Antonin?" Dolohov shrank back in his chair. "We will do nothing like what you suggest." Voldemort's hands ceased twirling his wand, fingering it reverently instead. "Anyone who disobeys that order will be punished."

"My lord," Tiberius asked, "might I ask what use knowing the event's layout will be if we don't plan to be active?"

"I never said we have no plans—"

"But you said—" Voldemort flicked his hand and Nott's head snapped back and a purple welt began showing on his cheek.

Wandless magic. Harry had paid it little heed since unlocking his door the summer before second year, but Voldemort was slowly convincing him that had been an oversight.

"You will not interrupt me again, Tiberius."

Nott massaged his cheek with a gloved hand as he nodded. "Yes, my lord. I'm sorry, my lord."

"Good." Voldemort let silence hang in the air for nearly half a minute. "Lucius, Regulus, and Barty will explore the prospect of inroads with other nations while at the cup." The Dark Lord turned to Crouch. "Have you any further news about the Triwizard Tournament?"

Crouch stroked his sharp chin. "Documentation is being drawn up that would allow for the usage of the Goblet of Fire."

"The what?" asked Rudolphus Lestrange.

Crouch pursed his lips. "Don't be belligerent," Harry remembered him saying. "Pointed questions are always best. Never leave the desired answer up to interpretation. It is wasteful for both parties."

"It was once Roman property," Crouch said briskly. "They used it to determine who should lead their forces and whether or not war would be fruitful."

How would it know? Harry wondered. Some kind of Legilimency? Could an object touch thoughts the way a person could? The memory of shining silver glass and swirling shadows swam up, as if in answer.

Rudolphus was frowning. "So it… what?"

This time Crouch could not suppress his scowl. "Judges worth and outcomes based on a given set of criteria. The ministry is currently exploring its viability. I expect it will be approved; this would be a simple process for something of its power."

"And they mean to keep underaged students away from the cup via the use of wards?" Voldemort asked. Harry did not quite narrow his eyes, but it was a near thing.

"An age line, my lord," said Crouch. "The idea is for Dumbledore himself to draw it up."

"Dumbledore?" Bellatrix asked. "Was it not covered he would soon be removed?"

"Removed from his position of Headmaster," Lucius clarified. "It's likely that he will remain Supreme Mugwump. Britain enjoys flaunting his power; it is a strong deterrent against outside aggression. I believe his plan is to attend tournament-related events in this capacity."

"I know little of age lines." Voldemort's admission took Harry aback.

"They are obscure," Crouch agreed. "I have only read about them."

Voldemort sat back in his chair. "How is it they track one's age? If a Memory Charm was used to remove all associated memories pertaining to age, would one bypass the age line?"

Crouch stroked his chin again. "I'm… unsure, my lord. I think it could fail, but my confidence is low."

Harry fidgeted, unease coiling inside his stomach. He does have a plan for the tournament. There was no other explanation for Voldemort's fixation.

"Very well," said Voldemort. "Was there anything else?" The room remained silent but for the rustling of Nagini's scales against the table cloth. "Good. We are finished."

Chairs scraped back and quiet conversation filled the drawing room as the Death Eaters filtered out. Harry was halfway from his chair when a hiss came from underneath the table. "Stay."

Harry dropped back into his chair and swept his gaze around the room. Bellatrix was all but fluttering her long lashes up at Voldemort, but the Dark Lord jerked his head toward the door and sent her storming out with a vicious glare at Harry as she went.

"What do you think of the news, Harry?" Voldemort asked once the room had emptied.

Harry schooled his features. "Removing Dumbledore is a huge step."

"It presents a window of opportunity." There was a soft sound and Harry saw Nagini slithering up the high back of her master's chair. "Dumbledore will find a way back into Hogwarts if he is given enough time. It is important we win before that happens."

Harry chewed his words. "What does winning mean, my lord? What is winning?"

Voldemort stood and gestured for him to follow. "The Ministry of Magic must fall," the Dark Lord said as they strode down a narrow corridor. "Whoever controls the ministry controls Magical Britain and can exert their will."

Harry recalled a flaming basilisk looming high above a rocky beach and fought hard to keep unease off his face. That goal was far from unachievable, even as they spoke. "Dumbledore will still oppose us?"

Voldemort's nod provided a small portion of relief as they turned down a side hall and headed for a set of glass doors. "He will, but controlling the ministry's resources will limit how effective his group of vigilantes can be."

Harry bit his lip and stepped out onto the balcony. Voldemort's plans did not account for Dumbledore himself. Harry would have to hope that was enough to draw the conflict out.

Fingers of mist curled around the railing and its hand lay heavy over the grounds below. Wisps of it drifted onto the balcony itself. Dementors. Harry wondered how many there were. Not only had bleakness encompassed the lands around the manor for the majority of summer, but London had been all but drowning under their oppressive shroud the night he and Regulus had walked through its foggy streets. "Can I ask you something, my lord?"

"You may always ask so long as we're alone."

Harry stepped up to the railing. It was lower here than the one he most often frequented. "What are you planning for the tournament? It's got something to do with me, doesn't it?"

"So young, yet so clever." The casual air — or as close to as there ever had been in the Dark Lord's presence — bled away. "I intend for you to enter the Triwizard Tournament."

Harry's head snapped around. "My lord… why?"

Voldemort did not quite smile, but his amusement was plain if one knew where to look. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but you are very famous and there is power waiting just beyond your fingertips. Fame is a wonderful inroad to influence, which itself is more powerful than any spell."

The implications there were obvious. Winning such a competition while being three years too young for entry would not so much as bolster Harry's fame as it would morph it into a different beast entirely.

"And you mean to exercise that influence," Harry murmured. "Once you take the ministry, you mean for me to be an instrument of unity. You hope the country will unite under me, if nothing else."

"Among other things, yes." Voldemort placed one black boot up onto the railing. "But that is a matter for a later date. Tonight we will hone your skills." Nagini slid down off his shoulders and slithered back inside. "Come."

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, and P*T*E*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.