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Harry Potter and the Perversion of Purity

By ACI100

Book 4: The Deadliest of Games

Chapter 12: A Deal with the Devil

September 2, 1994
The Slytherin Dorms
4:54 AM

Slim shafts of moonlight slanted through the narrow bars and made the faint wisps of hair atop Grindelwald's head shimmer like scarce, snowy patches in a swiftly blooming spring.

It's easy to forget how awful he looks. It had been a long time since he had properly studied Grindelwald like this. He looks even worse than usual. His thin, leathery skin had a pallor beyond its usual unhealthy sheen and weariness dragged the light of his eyes back the best it could.

The former warlord smiled despite his decrepitness. "I suspected you would soon return."

"Are you all right?" It felt like an odd question to be asking, but he couldn't help it.

Grindelwald's smile took on a bitter edge. "I am no worse than I have been since making your acquaintance. My current circumstances are unique and their effects will soon pass."

Current circumstances? The room still smelled of decay and sea salt, still there were no other sounds around the prison, and the cell and its furnishings remained unchanged. What does he mean by current circumstances?

Grindelwald must have sensed his thoughts. "It is of no consequence. All that has happened is an unusual amount of strain. It will pass."

Pieces came together. "Is it Gemma? Did whatever you do for her strain you?"

Grindelwald leant back against the wall in his seated position. "You are curious tonight."

I'm worried. That was the strangest thought of all, but it was there. I want to lose him less than Pansy. A wild laugh bubbled up in the back of his throat, but he suppressed it. Maybe all this has driven me mad.

"What happened with Gemma? Is she all right?"

"Miss Fawley is unharmed. Voldemort wished only to ask questions about how she discovered his Death Eater. The girl had the good sense to answer truthfully."

"How did she find out? Just by working for Crouch?"

"She believes his father had him under the Imperius Curse or a similar enchantment, but that it was waning. Their house elf's behaviour was peculiar and drew her attention. It wasn't difficult then; not when the man wanted so badly to be found."

Harry considered that. "I haven't put much thought into the Imperius Curse. I know it can be fought and I know Voldemort really did use it a lot last war even though a bunch of purebloods used it as a fake defence, but not much else."

"It is the worst of the Unforgivable Curses, but the easiest to counteract."

Harry pinched his robes between two fingers and remembered the two children Grindelwald once placed under the curse. A swell of bitterness rose up, but he forced it back down and kept his face schooled. "How do you fight it? I just know you can."

Grindelwald pursed his lips. "How is the wrong question. Everyone's process is different."

Harry frowned. "So just clearing your mind won't do it?"

"Occlumency is helpful. There is a correlation between Occlumency and those who can resist the Imperius Curse, but they are not one in the same. It takes not only an organized mind, but a strong and stubborn will. Clearing your mind will help shake the curse, but the ability to clear one's mind while under its effects is something else entirely."

Great. "I don't suppose there's really a way of practicing unless I trust someone to cast the curse on me over and over again?"

"Practicing Occlumency in circumstances which make its use more difficult than it would otherwise be is a good start, but not a direct preparation. I would not worry much," he said when Harry's frown deepened. "I do not suspect you will struggle in defending against the Imperius Curse."

"I'll take your word for it," he muttered. "So that was it? Voldemort just asked about Crouch and then left?"

"I do not believe he will be gone for long. I'm sure he will verify her story the best he can before deciding what must be done. The truth is that Miss Fawley is in a very precarious position and I doubt very much that Voldemort will let her remain there unshackled."

"Why not just kill her? That would be the safest thing for him, wouldn't it?"

"Miss Fawley has risen high in the Ministry of Magic. You said she was once Crouch's assistant, but her duties have risen far beyond that now. She suspects the ministry is grooming her for succession."

Already? Bloody hell, she can't be more than twenty. "So Voldemort can't kill her without raising a lot of eyebrows?" Grindelwald nodded. "Do you think he'll try recruiting her then? Or even using the Imperius Curse?"

"The second would be ill-advised. Miss Fawley would not struggle in fighting the Imperius Curse."

There it is again. The way he and Voldemort just say things like they're certainties. "You sound confident."

"I have no doubts."

"How do you communicate with her anyway? You said it was a crude form of communication, but you seem to know an awful lot."

"I did not share a conversation with her. I was allowed a level of access to her mind in return for what I offered. It is complex magic and it comes only at great cost, but it is necessary."

Harry studied him. "I thought you said that Gemma wasn't very important."

Grindelwald smirked. "You have grown sloppy. I said I was unsure how important she would be. I am confident she will be essential if Voldemort is taking such a direct interest in her."

Harry almost sighed, but switched tact. There's no getting things like that out of him when he doesn't want to talk about them. "The new headmistress wants to meet with me later today."

"You said she is Fudge's creature?"

He nodded. "Her name's Dolores Umbridge. She was his undersecretary before taking the position at Hogwarts."

"It stands to reason she will ingratiate herself to you the best she can. I would be unsurprised if Fudge has demanded it. Use it."

"I plan to, but I'm a bit worried what it will entail. Will the ministry be so interested if they realize I'm not on their side?"

Grindelwald stroked his chin. "And why would they come to such a realization?"

"Well I can't just speak out against Dumbledore if they want me to, can I?"

"It would be ill advised, but I doubt they will ask it of you. Your silence screams their point already."

Harry nodded along. "Yeah, I guess it does."

"Go," said Grindelwald. "The strain will pass, but only if I cease taxing myself for the time being."

The sun had not yet risen when he clambered out of bed and dressed. It's almost weird being back at Hogwarts. This summer had been one long routine he had fallen into and gone through time and time again. I get to set my own schedule now; at least when I'm not in class.

Harry wrapped himself in Ignotus Peverell's cloak and drifted up into the library. It was a trivial thing crossing over into the Restricted Section. It's not like any of the wards will bother me if I'm under this.

Harry shrugged off the cloak once he was past the wards and lit his wand. Its light slid along fraying spines and cast dark shadows upon the walls and shovels surrounding him.

The wand light paused on a title that caught his eye.

Magick Moste Evile

His impulse was to pull away, but he crushed it down.

"Your duelling style depends on the magic that you can cast. Mine was developed to mask my limitations — yours must accentuate your strengths. I have been mistakenly teaching you to walk with a cane when I should have been teaching you to walk without one. You have handicapped yourself with your own false modesty."

Memories welled up the back of his mind. Blood-stained dirt spraying up around the false Death Eaters and trapping loose bits of gore. Red-robed aurors crumbling to ash when Voldemort unleashed Fiendfyre against Azkaban. The waves of death emanating out from the place where Grindelwald duelled Dumbledore. Wylla Nurmen's ruined skull and her last blood spreading through the freshly fallen snow.

There can't be anything in here worse than what I've seen. Harry snatched the book off its shelf and slinkies into a shadowy corner. No more holding back.

The book's beginnings were dense and raving. This Godelot bloke must have been a madman. The way he talked, it was like his wand had written the book in his name.

The real substance began when the sun outside had finally crested the tops of distant trees.

Bloody hell, some of this is gruesome. A curse that expelled once entrails out their mouth and another called the Transmogrophian Torture curse. Harry skimmed its description. How is that not an unforgivable?

It was time for breakfast before long. There's definitely a lot in here, but it's gonna be a pain. The book was written in rambling Middle English and was not an easy read. It's like reading another language the way he writes it.

That was an interesting thought. How's that gonna work for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang? Surely the classes were not all taught in English? I don't know any other language and it's not like you can just take a potion to learn them.

Silver plates shimmered in the sunlight and gilded goblets glittered. The smell of bacon reached his nose and made his stomach rumble.

His friends were already seated at the Slytherin table. Theodore and Draco were talking about Umbridge and what they knew about her. Crabbe and Goyle were piling towers of sweet-smelling syrup on large stacks of pancakes, and Pansy had her nose in a book. Harry's heartstrings tugged. That's not like her.

"Hi, Harry," said Astoria from her place between Draco and Pansy before he could think any longer.

More confident this year, are we? Astoria had sat with them on and off last year, but rarely had she been confident enough to engage.

"Morning, Astoria." He flashed her a smile. "I'm sure Daphne will love you sitting with us on the first day. I like your style."

He had expected a giggle, but instead she scowled. "I don't care what she thinks anymore."

Oh dear, so they've had a row again. "That bad, huh?"

Astoria stuck her nose up in the air. "Daphne said the only reason you're friends with me is because you want to hurt her."

Guilt stabbed at his stomach then twisted into painful knots. She's not entirely wrong. That was why he had befriended Astoria — that and his curiosity about the strangeness of her spells.

Not anymore though. He had grown fond of her near the end of last year. I would use her against Daphne again if she gave me a reason to, but that's not because I don't like Astoria.

"If that was true, I would have stopped being friends with you once I got her back last spring."

A bright smile spread across Astoria's face. "Feel free to get her back again."

Harry chuckled darkly. "Whatever she was trying to start is over, as far as I'm concerned."

I have bigger problems now. Surviving the Triwizard Tournament, Voldemort, Dumbledore, the ministry and whoever else wanted to control him — not to mention a grand vision becoming clearer and clearer the older he got. Much bigger problems.

That evening…

The first day of classes came and went. Harry had nearly fumbled a tricky poison Snape had them brewing right away in Potions — he had hardly considered the subject curing his last two months of study — but he had handed in a passable product in the end.

Not as good as Granger's though. Hers was perfect and brewed faster than he had ever seen before. Last year must really have a lit fire under her.

The real interest that day came when they entered the History of Magic classroom. Gone was Professor Binns and his mile-long rolls of parchment.

A tall, ruddy-faced wizard waited for them, dressed in fashionably cut robes the same shade of brown as his wispy beard.

"Amos Diggory!" It was one of the first things Pansy had said all day and filled him with relief. "Why is he here teaching? He works in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

They all learned why within minutes of the lesson's beginning.

Powerful dark wizards and how they used propaganda to gain power? It was said the unit's aim was to better prepare the students for similar tactics going forward, and Diggory did a commendable job of framing it as the ministry's attempt to learn from the lessons of history.

It's really just a way of subtly poisoning students against Dumbledore. I'll bet every example they use has been carefully curated so that it lines up with what's happening now. It was actually quite clever.

Not that everyone was fooled.

Draco was smirking when they sat down for dinner that night. "The ministry really are on a warpath, aren't they?"

Theodore chuckled. "Dumbledore will have his work cut out for him."

Harry twirled a fork around his fingers. He really will. "I'm actually impressed. I underestimated the ministry."

Theodore's laugh was full-throated this time. "That's an understandable mistake to make."

Eight o'clock ticked near and saw him ascending the marble staircase up onto the second floor. Maybe I'll check out the chamber again once this meeting's done. I never did get to finish much of Slytherin's journal and it would be a good place for practicing some grander spells.

"Ah, Mister Potter," simpered Umbridge when he knocked on her office door. "Please, take a seat. It is so wonderful to see you."

Harry plastered on his own fake smile and took a seat across from her. "You too, Headmistress. I was a bit worried how things would run this year knowing how different they would be, but they seem smoother than ever."

Beneath his honeyed words, his real thoughts were a jumbled mess of incredulity. There's no way she finds this place appealing. There was so much pink that it nearly gave him vertigo. And those cats… bloody hell, they're hideous.

Umbridge gave a high, girlish laugh. "Oh yes, the ministry has worked very hard this past summer. Your education is of the utmost importance. We could never let those standards slip."

Harry hid a fake blush behind his hand. "If you don't mind me saying, Headmistress, I think the standards will rise quite a bit in History of Magic."

The smile she offered him was all teeth. "Some at the ministry always wondered why Professor Binns continued teaching. Some of us began wondering whether Dumbledore hadn't — hem, hem, forgive me — lost his touch." Real subtle. "I'm happy to say his removal was my idea."

The fake smile was already straining his cheeks. "It was a brilliant idea."

"Such a flatterer," Umbridge said with another tittering laugh.

She'll love this. "I just tell the truth, Headmistress."

"Yes, well, that's more than can be said for some people, isn't it?" Harry shared in her knowing smile. "The minister did speak highly of you. I confess, Mister Potter, I had my worries given how much time you had spent here, but I'm so glad to see you're on the right path."

The path away from Dumbledore, you mean. If she only knew the path he was on… "I'm glad you think so, ma'am."

"I'm sure you've had many influences." She tittered again. You mean that you're sure Dumbledore has tried corrupting me. "I'm very proud of you for not letting them supplant their own silly ideas beneath in that pretty little head of yours."

The smile really did feel strained now. I could rearrange that fat and not-so-pretty head of yours, if you'd like. "It hasn't always been easy, ma'am, but I do my best to think for myself."

Umbridge beamed. "I do hope you keep that up, Mister Potter. I have no doubt some will do their best to continue influencing you, even from afar."

Let's end this cat and mouse game. "You're talking about Dumbledore, aren't you?"

"Very good, Mister Potter. May I ask whether he has contacted you over the summer?"

Well, since you already have. "He hasn't, ma'am, but he did want to talk a lot back when he was headmaster."

"Did he now?" A frown marred her wide, square face. "You'll tell me if he is giving you unwanted attention, won't you Mister Potter?"

Harry stretched his smile as wide as he could. "Of course, Headmistress." He couldn't resist the next jibe. "I feel much better knowing that the ministry has my back."

"The ministry always has everyone's best interests at heart." Her expression grew predatory. "There is no reason whatsoever the ministry will stop looking out for you, Mister Potter, so long as you conform to the most reasonable of the ministry's guidelines."

Harry's smile nearly slipped. Does that mean what I think it means? Was Umbridge offering him a deal? Is she giving me free reign so long as I stay away from Dumbledore? He could have laughed out loud. What a bad idea. It would be so easy turning that around and hanging you with the noose.

But it would also make other things easy. Already he had plans of sneaking back to Malfoy Manor to continue his lessons with the Inner Circle, but this would make that easier. It might make a lot of things easier if she's serious. I'll have to do something minor and find out.

Harry bowed his head. "I understand, ma'am. Thank you."

Author's Endnote:

Umbridge is a tricky character to write, but it is a lot of fun crafting her and Harry's exchanges. I'd like to think the depicted cynicism goes a long way :)

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

PS: The next chapter will be out in two weeks. 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.