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 TWENTY 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 13: The Inner Circle

September 4, 1994
The Slytherin Common Room
10:52 PM

The entranceway ground open with the sound of stone grinding against stone. Harry followed the unwitting sixth year boy named Gordon Gamp into the common room, still disillusioned.

Gamp walked straight down the sloping tunnel and towards the boys' dormitories, leaving Harry behind in a near empty common room.

Not quite though. Draco and Theodore were still awake, sitting in a shadowed corner with their faces bent low over a pair of books.

Harry took a half-step in their direction before spotting another pair of students sitting nearer the fire. The Carrows.

His curiosity prickled. I still haven't found out what's going on with them.

There was something. Voldemort had hinted at it following their possession at the hands of his enchanted diary. Whether he knew what was going on or not, he had been right in guessing that something was.

Harry crept up behind them and watched. Just like last year. Their movements were in perfect sync despite the fact neither of them said a word. That just makes no sense.

A strong urge seized him and his hand twitched towards his wand. One spell is all it would take to form a connection. But what would happen after that? If their minds were broken or something else was at play, what would it be like diving into thoughts like those?

He shuddered and turned away. I'll have to find out another way. I'm too curious now.

"You two are up late," he said, lowering his charm and appearing in the chair nearest his pair of friends.

Draco cursed and the book tumbled from his hands and slammed against the floor. "Don't do that!"

Theodore too had flinched, but now he was bent double and trying to quiet his fit of laughter.

"Sorry." Harry's apology was ruined by the smirk spread wide across his face. "I couldn't help it."

Draco scooped his book up off the floor. "Yes you bloody well could have."

Theodore finally got a grip on his laughter. "Careful, Draco. What would your mother think if she heard you talking like that?"

Draco stuck his nose up. "What my mother would think is none of your concern, Nott. I'll kindly ask you not to mention her again."

Theodore held up his hands. "A bit prickly, are we?"

Definitely when it comes to his family. Harry remembered that night out in the gardens, surrounded by sun-soaked hedges and the sweet smell of flowers as the shadows stretched slowly out across the sprawling lawns.

"Please. M-my father will serve him again. My m-mother never wanted anything to do with it. She thought it was s-s-stupid and dangerous."

And now he knows. Anger bubbled beneath his skin and sent itchy splotches crawling up his arms. All because Voldemort has dragged in more children.

Harry banished flashes of dangling adolescents and bleeding, broken corpses with shattered skulls and ruined blonde hair. Not now.

"Where were you anyway?" Theodore asked him, diverting the attention away from Draco and his mother.

Harry threw a glance around the common room. They both know he's back.

He flicked his wand and raised a ward around them. "At Malfoy Manor." Draco's head snapped up and he threw a questioning glance towards Theodore. "He knows."

He's known longer than you. Another flash of bitterness. And his father was ready to use him against me. Harry wondered yet again what Theodore would have done had Tiberius demanded he help him scheme against him in the name of Voldemort.

"You were working with them, weren't you?"

"Learning from them." There was no reason to lie. It's probably better if he realizes I'm not helping them scheme up something mental.

"Is that how you did it?" Theodore asked.

Harry frowned. "Did what?"

"The World Cup. There were a lot of dead imposters and there were rumours about lightning." His friend's gaze took him in. "I reckon you really did conjure it."

What do I do here? He could lie. He could downplay his own abilities and make his friends believe he was less involved with the Death Eaters than he really was.

But why? They follow me already; what would it gain me?

"I have told you time and time again that meekness will get you nowhere. The only place for it is in the face of Voldemort, and only for a time. You must act decisively…"

"I did conjure lightning, but I've been able to do that for a while."

Draco's eyes bulged. "The whomping willow. That was you too, wasn't it? When you—" his voice trailed off with a nervous glance at Theodore.

"Killed Sirius Black," his other friend finished.

Harry's heart gave a nervous lurch. Bloody hell. Sometimes I wish my friends weren't so clever. It's a dangerous game.

Draco looked from Harry, to Theodore, and back again. "You knew about that?"

Theodore shrugged. "Sure. Putting it together wasn't hard." He lowered his voice despite the protective ward. "The Dark Lord broke those prisoners out of Azkaban. Black could never have caused all that destruction. It wasn't the hardest thing to put together."

I wonder if Voldemort knows that I killed him. Regulus could have told him, but somehow Harry doubted it. I really do think Regulus is on my side. It sounded mental and perhaps it was, but the earnest look in his guardian's face the night they shared their murderous tales lingered with him even now.

It could be interesting when Voldemort does find out. What would he say about Harry killing his one-time lieutenant? Not that Black was all that skilled. Dolohov is miles better.

Harry sighed. "That was also me, yes. It got in the way."

Theodore snickered. "Got in the way?"

"There was a secret passageway hidden under the willow. I'm sure it's still there, but they've planted a normal tree over it now, so getting to it would probably be a pain."

Draco leant forward. "A secret passageway leading where?"

"Into the Shrieking Shack. Black ran down it last June and the tree was an inconvenient obstacle." He forced down a deep blush. "I sort of just blasted it without thinking."

Why am I telling them all this? It felt wrong and like a needless risk. But Draco has promised not to share around my secrets and I really think he was being serious. Theodore stole those books for me straight from his family's library, and both of them already knew I killed him. It's not like I'm giving anything away.

Theodore whistled. "Impressive, that."

Harry stretched and yawned. "It was the first time I'd casted it, actually." Another yawn escaped him. "I'm heading off to bed. Best of luck with whatever you two are doing."

September 8, 1994
A Secret Passageway on the Third Floor
7:30 PM

Harry tapped his wand against the full-body mirror and it slid aside. Voldemort wasn't kidding. This really is a convenient place.

The hidden room behind the mirror was narrow, but long. Empty space yawned from wall to wall and ceiling to floor. It's more than big enough for all of us to meet, hidden well in a place hardly anyone goes, and a blank template.

There was work to be done if it was to be the primary meeting place for his group of friends. It needs furniture and is a bit small for Cassie and I to practice in, but that might be fixable.

The only other thing that needed doing was a set of wards. The way Greengrass looks at me every time her sister sits with us, I'm not going to leave her any openings. Just because he had blackmail material didn't mean he wanted to use it. It might get her in a pile of shit, but I'd rather not be nearly dead again before that happens.

He smiled to himself when remembering his talk with Umbridge. She really was offering me a deal. Not a word about vanishing for a weekend. It was nice knowing that he would have no problems throwing up these wards around the castle.

Harry conjured himself an armchair. Not quite as soft as I wanted, but it'll do for tonight. A second one appeared with another wave of his wand.

A soft gasp came from behind him. "Wow," said Astoria, "what is this place?"

"I'm hoping to turn it into a headquarters, of sorts. It's a bit annoying all the places I end up using. We used to meet in the library, Cassie and I practice in any of a few abandoned classrooms in the dungeons, sometimes my older friends and I meet up in another one, Draco, Theodore, and I have been having talks lately that require wards. It's all just a right pain."

Astoria nodded along. "It makes sense having it all in one room."

Harry scratched his head. "I'm not sure if I'll be able to duel in here. It's a bit small and I've never cast a Spatial Expansion Charm."

I don't even know if it would work. The school's ward scheme might interfere with that. He would have to ask Voldemort; the Dark Lord was likely to know and would doubtlessly tell him. Anything to help sharpen his newest weapon.

Astoria flashed him a beaming smile. "You'll work it out. You always work it out."

Harry smiled back and ignored the faint pang of guilt. You're entirely too loyal to someone who's used you, even if I do like you now. "I'm glad you're confident." He let the smile slide off his lips. "There was something I wanted to ask before we got started with anything."

Astoria looked puzzled. "You want to ask me something?"

Harry's lips twitched. "It isn't that weird, you know. I've only been in the magical world for a little over three years now, and—"

"What?" she blurted.

Harry winced. Oh right, I had stopped explaining that to people by the time she was around. "It's a long story. Let's just say I grew up with muggles and am more than a little bit bitter about it."

Astoria stuck her nose up. "You should be! Harry Potter growing up with muggles?"

Trust me, you're nowhere near as upset about it as I am. Stones pelted a small blonde girl until blood and bone seeped out from between fractured cracks in her skin. Flames licked up his pant leg and seared his skin. Uncle Vernon shouted and a cupboard door slammed. Thousands of wizards threw the World Cup in shadow all because of a foolish Statute signed by shortsighted imbeciles.

I hate them! I hate all of them!

Harry wiped his mind clear. "I agree, but it actually wasn't a magical world thing I wanted to ask about."

Astoria was frowning now. "What is it?"

"Do you know anything about the Carrow twins? I know they're a year above you, but I figured you might know more than me."

Astoria screwed up her face and wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't like them," she said with a shiver. "They're creepy."

A dark voice whispered in the back of his head. She's awfully timid for someone with so much potential. She would be more useful if she was confident.

Harry ignored the bitter stabs of guilt. "Anything else?"

She hung her head. "No. Sorry, Harry."

She sounded heartbroken. There was nothing she wanted more than to know the answer. Guilt's knife buried itself hilt deep in his chest. I doubt anyone is more loyal to me than her. She's gone against her own sister for me.

Harry pulled an easy smile up onto his lips. "It's all right, Astoria. I just thought I'd check."

"I can find out if you want?" There was a desperate gleam in her eyes. "You helped me so much last year. I want to do something nice for you."

I'm not sure nice is the word I'd use, but it's a thought. Astoria was an unassuming probe. She's damn likeable too. I had no plans of befriending her when we first met, but here we are.

The real question was could she figure anything out? I'm not even sure how I would do it, let alone how she would.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Thanks, Astoria. Let me think on it a bit, all right?" She bobbed her head and beamed. "Good. Now, anything specific you'd like to work on?"

The grin slipped off her face and was replaced with a steely mask of determination. "I want to be better than Daphne."

Harry almost laughed. Not only am I slowly taking away her sister, but now I'll make her a better caster.

He grinned. "Your sister's always been rubbish with a wand, so that shouldn't be hard. Come on, let's get started."

September 12, 1994
The Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom
1:11 PM

No professor waited for them when they entered the barren Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Its walls were plain, the teacher's desk was empty, and raindrops drummed against the unobscured windows.

The bell chimed and still there was no professor.

"Do you reckon she just couldn't get one today?" Draco asked with a smirk.

Theodore snorted. "I know the ministry have been short on aurors, but they're not that short on aurors."

"How short on aurors are they?" Harry asked.

I didn't even know they were. It just made him more nervous. Voldemort can't win too fast; I have to get strong enough to be free first.

Theodore shrugged. "It's hard to say, but she'll definitely have to have the corpse on a rotation. She'll run out pretty quick unless she—"

Clunk, clunk, clunk.

Theodore cut himself off and Harry's ears perked. What is that?

Clunk, clunk, clunk.

It was coming from the corridor outside and drawing closer every second.

The door banged open and Harry did a double-take. Bloody hell…

This newcomer's face looked like what would happen if someone scorched a hundred jagged lines into a rough-carved piece of wood and then tried transfiguring it into human skin. Half his twisted nose was missing, but Harry nearly missed that, so drawn he was to the strange pair of eyes.

One was small and a dark muddish brown whereas the other was large, round, and electric blue. His normal eye moved like one would expect, but the electric blue monstrosity spun this way and that with no regard for physics or biology.

"Who is that?" he whispered when fierce muttering rose around the class.

His two closest friends were scowling. "That's Alastor Moody," Theodore muttered. "He was an auror in the last war and is responsible for about half the cells that were in Azkaban."

Oh hell…

Harry had read something about Moody when pouring over texts about the Purity War. "I thought he was retired."

Draco sneered. "So did I."

So what is he doing here?

Each step of his gnarled, wooden leg clunked loudly against the smooth stone floor. "You can put your books away," their professor for the day said when he finally got behind his desk. "You won't be needing those."

That electric blue eye darted around the room as students put their books away. "What's up with his eye?" Harry whispered. "It's supposed to be magic or something, right?"

"Yeah," muttered Theodore. "They say it can see through about anything; even the back of his own head."

Merlin, I'm happy he's only here for a day. Getting away with things inside the castle would be a lot harder if Moody was around.

"I hear you have a bunch of professors this year," said Moody. "Half the aurors these days aren't worth their boots, but hopefully they all teach you something useful because this little day trip of mine is a one-off deal."

Thank Merlin for that.

Moody reached into the pocket of his robes and withdrew a front-page clipping from the Daily Prophet. "Who recognizes the bastards on this page?"

I don't think I've ever heard a teacher outright curse in class before. That's got to be a first. Familiar faces stared back at him from the paper in Moody's gnarled hands. Really familiar.

Moody gestured at Tracey Davis, who was the lone student to raise her hand. "They're the-the escaped Death Eaters, Professor."

"Aye, and the worst of the bunch they are." Moody pinned the clipping up behind his desk. "They wanted old Mad-Eye to come in and talk about these folk. It only makes sense. Some of them are there because I put them there, see."

His magical eye flicked towards Draco and Theodore, but only for a heartbeat. "I'd have told them no, but some of these folk really are the worst of the worst. It's not nice what I'm about to say, but someone has to say it, so here I am."

Utter silence followed his introduction. "A lot of people escaped from Azkaban the night it fell," growled Moody. "There were too many for me to talk about, so I'm gonna focus on the five worst of the lot."

His wand flashed like lightning into his hand. He flicked it and all but five faces vanished from the front page.

Figures it's those five.

"We'll start with this bastard." Harry's pulse quickened when Moody gestured to a pale, twisted face. He nearly laughed. Let's see what Moody thinks of my duelling instructor. "Can anyone tell me who this fellow is?"

Blaise Zabini raised his hand. "Antonin Dolohov."

"Aye. A twisted, cruel man who would have burnt the world had You-Know-Who let him." Really? One of the bravest aurors of all time and he won't even call Voldemort by his name? "Don't get it twisted, though," said Moody. "Dolohov had a tight handle on that aggression and knew when to use it. You-Know-Who didn't waste him on raids or fear mongering. Dolohov was nothing less than You-Know-Who's personal hitman."

It's weird. I've spent all this time around the inner circle and I always knew they specialized in different things, but I never knew how Voldemort used them.

Dolohov's assignment made all the sense in the world. He's the most precise caster I've ever seen; he really would be a terrifying assassin. Dolohov was the kind of man who could enter quietly and quell all but the strongest wizard while leaving nothing but the body in his wake.

"Dolohov was a Russian National Champion duellist before coming over and joining forces with You-Know-Who. I've never seen him bested; not until I did it myself."

A jolt shot through him. Moody is the one who brought in Dolohov? Harry's wariness swelled. He really must be something.

"Dolohov is the best pure duellist I've ever seen. His casting is perfect and his mind is sharper than any of his spells. His positioning is perfect, his precision is unmatched, and he has killer instincts that would make a dragon blush."

Harry raised his hand and both of Moody's eyes found him. "Ah yes, you're Potter, aren't you?"

Harry bowed his head. "Yes, sir."

"Aye. I fought with your parents last war. Great folk they were. What's your question?"

Harry suppressed the conflicted swell of feelings. "You describe him like he's perfect. I was wondering if you'd tell us how you beat him."

A twisted smile split across the tattered mess of a face. "Good question. Dolohov is perfect for what he has, but he's not the strongest wizard. He's perfect because he has to be. The truth is that bastard gave me this." Moody ran a bony finger along where half his nose ought to have been. "I won a war of attrition because I was stronger and had more weapons. Does that make sense?"

Harry nodded. It's exactly what I would have expected based on how Dolohov described himself. It was terrifying in a way. Not only does he brutally analyze everyone and everything, but he does the same to himself.

Moody gestured to the pair of twins depicted on the clipping hanging just behind his desk. "These two are next. Anyone know them?"

Millicent Bulstrode raised her hand. "Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange."

"Aye. You-Know-Who's interrogators. Nasty pieces of work, both of them. These two are famous for their cruelty. The Cruciatus Curse was their calling card. Of course them and the next one we'll talk about tortured the Longbottoms until the both of them went insane, but they've done that to a dozen or so lesser known witches and wizards."

Harry shivered. I can't think of a worse existence; tortured into insanity. It was not hard imagining how that could happen; not after feeling the Cruciatus Curse for himself down in the Chamber of Secrets when duelling the shade of Tom Riddle.

"Not that torturing folk with the Cruciatus Curse was all they did, mind," Moody went on. "These two unearthed a real nasty spell. I won't be giving you its incantation, but think of something like the Cruciatus Curse, but something that rips you limb from limb and leaves you dead as if they'd used the Killing Curse."

Harry remembered a gruesome passage written in the pages of Magick Moste Evile. Bile burned his throat. Transmogrophian torture.

"When they weren't torturing, they were fighting. Rabastan was the better fighter, but neither of them were duellists. Their strength was in their style. The pair of them fought side by side and it was like the other always knew what their brother was thinking and what they'd cast now. Not too dangerous if isolated — not compared to some others up here — but a real pair of weapons if you let them fight together."

Interesting. Harry had been underwhelmed — sans Transmogrophian torture — when Moody had painted them as a pair of interrogators. Fighting so well in tandem is actually interesting.

Both of Moody's eyes were staring a hole through Draco. "You should know the next one, I reckon. Your mum's sister, isn't she?"

Draco bristled. "Are you saying—"

"I think you know what I'm saying, Malfoy." There was a hateful scowl on Moody's face. "Tell your old man that Moody says hi next time you see him and answer my question."

Draco's jaw was clenched so tight, Harry was sure his teeth were grinding together. "Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Right you are, Malfoy. Maybe the most dangerous of them all. None of You-Know-Who's followers were more gifted than Bellatrix. She's got most of Dolohov's skill, but with power that sadist could only dream of. I once saw her blow a line of men to bloody bits with a wave of her hand." Merlin… "Tried capturing her a couple times, I did, but I never quite could. Took a whole squad to take her in in the end."

There was a long pause. And now the finale. "Sir," asked Harry when the pause grew unnaturally long, "what about the last one?" It was the one he was most curious about. I know next to nothing about him.

"Him." There was utter contempt in Moody's voice, but something else too. If it was anyone else, I'd think he was afraid. "Can anyone tell me who this bastard is?"

Daphne Greengrass raised her hand. "That's Augustus Rookwood. He was an Unspeakable who betrayed the Ministry of Magic by spying for the Dark Lord."

"Aye." There was another long pause. "Rookwood's no Dolohov with his wand and he'll never have Lestrange's gifts. Not that he's untalented, see, but that's not what makes him so dangerous." Moody appeared to chew his words. "The scariest thing about Augustus Rookwood isn't how many bodies he buried, but how many bodies will never be buried because of him."

What does that mean? Harry wondered when they had all been dismissed. Does he leave nothing behind? Is he some master with Fiendfyre or something?

It frustrated him in an odd sort of way. I was actually curious about him. Rookwood just felt… affable in a way the others weren't. It was hard imagining him among them at all, let alone doing… whatever Moody alluded to.

A chill ran up his spine. If Mad-Eye Moody gets cagey about him, then there really is something there.

Author's Endnote:

Everyone and their mother have rehashed Moody's lesson on the Unforgivable Curses, so I thought I'd show something a little more interesting :)

Please read and review.

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.