A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Harry Potter.

I have no beta.

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Full Summary:

The Dark Lord wanted a consort and had decided to host a competition that involved nearly everyone in Britain. If they thought they were good enough, they could enter to compete in a certain amount of tasks set by the Lord of the lands himself. Only the victor would have the skills necessary to become Voldemort's consort.

Harry unfortunately nabs the Dark Lord's attention. Voldemort does as he pleases.

Hermione enters to win, Bellatrix takes interest in certain people, and of course there's the villain causing trouble.

-NOTES-

-This is an Alternate Universe, where Dumbledore was defeated in 1979, before the prophecy was given. Meaning that if the prophecy happened, no one heard it and it has gone unnoticed, if I decide to even use it.

-Dumbledore is NOT dead, nor is he being tortured or enslaved. That is explained in later chapters.

-Voldemort is not murderous or hell bent on making the lives of Magical Britain's inhabitants, hellish. People who lived during the war were given ultimatums, and don't like the way life has gone for them. The children around Harry's age think it's fine because It's all they have known. Anything their parents tell them is contradicted by the way life is for them, which leaves most, if not all, doubtful. THIS IS NOT A DYSTOPIAN FANFIC!

-There will be a lot of sneaking in this story, some dubious consent in certain places, and with characters acting as you wouldn't expect. Expect OCs who are twats.

-Harry grew up with James and Lily and Sirius and Remus, and was a normal boy without any difficulties and odd behaviors ingrained into him. As such, he is a different person than the Harry in canon and I have changed his Patronus. Based on his character in this story, the Patronus test I took while pretending to be him, came up with a Phoenix as the Patronus, and that will remain throughout the fic unless I change it.

-I hope I don't bash anyone this time, but we'll see. BTW, Umbridge is free game for anyone. Bad guys too.

-FINALLY-

This fic is nothing like, 'The Courtesan' or the sequel, 'The Consort'. No dystopian society. No rape. No slavery. Death Eaters are called Knights of Walpurgis. Hogwarts isn't a breeding ground for followers of Voldemort. And Muggleborns are allowed to use magic! The Order of the Phoenix no longer exists. I'm honestly sick of people leaving Guest Flames condemning this fic without reading it. Do not compare two works simply because they have similar names.

~.O.~

All Harry James Potter had ever known was the way his life was. To be honest, he didn't think it was so bad.

Of course he hadn't grown up during the war so he didn't fully understand why his parents always complained about life. Considering the current laws and the ways of the land, he'd say that life was pretty good.

Sure, purebloods got a bit more than others, but from what he'd read, it had always been like that.

When the Dark Lord took over Magical Britain, it hadn't come with death and torture. The man's methods to achieve control weren't that pleasant, true, but he did not go around murdering everyone. He rarely tortured people unless they were charged with treason. Voldemort, for the most part, remained out of the public's eye, allowing his faithful to do the leading in his stead, under his orders.

Now, while Harry didn't feel much about the history of Britain's magical community, he wouldn't say he'd be leaping at the chance to join Voldemort's forces.

In fact, he was voted most likely to, simply because he was the star DADA pupil in Hogwarts. But the fact of the matter was, Harry didn't want to be a Death Eater, as his parents labeled them. Voldemort actually called his followers his Knights. Harry preferred that term, but still didn't want to be one.

Harry was of a minority in that case. Everyone wanted to gain the Dark Lord's attention in some way. To be considered useful enough to work for the man was like a dream come true for most of the magicals his age. Harry simply wanted to open a shop for magical creatures and animals. He could communicate with them and felt that it would be the best he could do in life.

He loved animals. By helping them, he'd be doing some good with his talent.

That's all Harry wanted. Nothing fancy. Nothing over the top. Just a nice job and maybe get married to someone he could talk with. Someone that made arguments fun and entertaining and knew how to keep his interest. Someone that wanted to spend time with him because they liked him andnot because he was the last Potter and was the Potter and Black Heir.

When Harry learned that the Dark Lord was finally deciding on bringing the Slytherin family back into society, he'd been interested, but not overly dedicated to learning more.

That was, until he got to school during his final year, and learned of why he should have paid attention.

The Dark Lord wanted a consort and had decided to host a competition that involved nearly everyone in Britain. Basically, if they thought they were good enough, they could enter to compete in a certain amount of tasks set by the Lord of the lands himself. The winner would obviously be the person who demonstrated all of the things Voldemort was looking for in a consort.

The entire school was in an uproar and only those in their seventeenth year of life, to their seventieth year of life, could enter. And no, there was no restriction on blood status, despite how some felt that only purebloods should be allowed.

What horrified him the most, was the fact that his best friend Hermione, was actually going to enter.

"Why shouldn't I? It doesn't matter to me that he is fifty years older than I am. What matters is the knowledge. The sway I might be able to have. A muggleborn being his consort would surely help the general reception of muggleborns."

Harry firmly believed that no one would ever be able to hold any kind of sway over the Dark Lord. The man was so well put together and so himself, he didn't seem the type to cave to anything or anyone. But Harry refused to say anything because Hermione seemed determined.

Her desire had nothing to do with romancing the man or getting sex. She just wanted his books and to make the lives of muggleborns better. But Hermione wasn't the only one. Basically, the reason anyone his age wanted to enter into the contest to be the Dark Lord's consort was because they too hoped for similar things. Prestige first and foremost.

"You don't want to enter?" Hermione had asked him as she sipped her tea.

"No," was his firm reply. "I have to study extra hard for my N.E.W.T.s this year. If I want to be a Magizoologist/Healer, I need to pass my chosen classes with flying colours. Besides, Madam Pomfrey was talking about putting me through practice trials this year and she will summon me at random to help her in the Hospital Wing. I really can't afford to think of other things. You know people in my profession are rare."

Hermione nodded. She had just as much work to do as he, but unlike Harry, her eidetic memory aided her immensely. She didn't need to study once she read the work through once or twice. Harry had to put in more effort to get the same results as Hermione.

Of course that was just in theory. Hermione's brain aided her in theoretical knowledge, which was where Harry struggled the most. Harry was more of a hands on learner and books didn't do him an ounce of good. It was why his practicals were so much better than hers. They evened each other out, by helping each other in the areas they needed the most work on.

Harry and Hermione were the only two Gryffindors who made it to N.E.W.T. Potions. They and their friend Neville were the only Gryffindors to make it into N.E.W.T. Herbology. Harry had managed to convince Hermione to stay for N.E.W.T. Care of Magical Creatures with him, and Hermione convinced him to stay in N.E.W.T. Ancient Runes with her.

On the side, Harry was Apprenticed under Madam Pomfrey. Sure, he liked to play around and joke with his friends, but when it came to his desired future, Harry was dead serious. She had measured him with her own test, to determine if she should teach him at all.

Harry still fondly remembered the poor first year with a broken nose that he had fixed because he knew Madam Pomfrey wasn't around. She had actually been watching the entire time and he'd learned that it was in fact, her, glamoured as a first year.

The woman broken her own nose just to see what he would do. That took dedication to the craft.

But Harry had impressed her with his quick thinking and the fact that he had made it nearly painless, with only a sharp sting that lasted for only a second. She took him under her wing immediately after that.

Harry was just too busy at the moment to think about a contest that centered around being Voldemort's consort. Besides, he didn't want to be it anyway.

The Dark Lord attended breakfast in the Great Hall at random times over the school year. Some days he would be there first thing and others, he wouldn't be. So when people saw him sitting in the Headmaster's chair, they weren't really surprised. Snape had been relegated to the chair on the man's right hand side, which showed the level of esteem he possessed in the eyes of his leader. Voldemort always had the best seat in the house, no matter where it was.

The man had stood, his crimson eyes trailing over the students with a stunning intensity. Harry felt relieved when he hadn't fallen under the attention of those eyes. Yes, the man's face was attractive, but he was so unnerving. And his power levels were astronomical!

Being in the room with him was enough to leave anyone lightheaded.

"Those wishing to put forth their names for the Tournament will have a chance to do so between noon today and noon tomorrow. Everyone seventeen and up, will be given a piece of parchment whereupon they may read the rules of the tournament and decide if they wish to enter. You will then sign your full name and place it in the large jar before you."

And just like that, their collective attention was drawn to the massive bird bath like jar in front of the podium normally used to give out announcements. It was black and there was a silvery liquid inside that Harry wouldn't dare speculate over. He was happy to assume it was magic and leave it at that.

"I urge you to think very carefully on this, because while it may be a great privilege should you win, the path to victory is fraught with danger for a reason."

The suave man seated himself and the food sprouted on the plates, signalling that the morning feast had begun. Those who were old enough, found a piece of parchment on their empty plates.

Harry may not have wanted to enter, but he was still curious. Briefly, he noted from the corner of his eye that Hermione had pushed her plate away in order to pull out her inkwell and quill. All around the room, others were doing the very same.

The parchment read thus:

The Consort Tournament is not being held with recreational purposes in mind. While it will indeed be witnessed by a variety of spectators, those competing will be put against life or death trials that will test them in every method the Dark Lord Voldemort has chosen.

TASK 1: Power

The Dark Lord admires power of all kinds and the duty of the competitor in question is to impress those among the Dark Lord's ranks, who have been chosen to scrutinize everything during this task.

It will include danger. This is not a talent show. It is reality that will demonstrate just what the Dark Lord expects of the one who will help him raise his family.

If the competitor manages to get through the task without obtaining injury, they will receive a hint to the next task.

TASK 2: Cunning

In this task, the competitor will be given one hundred points, and a riddle to solve. In doing so, will then receive a hint to where the next riddle is located. The competitor will have to reach the destination of the next riddle, without being seen by any of the people stationed in the area.

Each time they are spotted, ten points will be removed from their score. If the competitor's points are below 80 when/if they finish, they will be disqualified. There will be a total of five riddles and over fifty people to sneak past, so beware.

If anyone manages to finish with the same amount of points they began with, they will be given a hint to the next task in order to prepare themselves.

TASK 3: Ingenuity

This task will test the competitor's skill in avoiding dangerous situations.

TASK 4: Intellect

The Dark Lord is one of the brightest minds to have ever been born and as such, he admires intelligence. This test will force the competitor to prove their worth.

Any details have been withheld to make it more interesting.

TASK 5: Duelling

As the title explains, this will be the task that will be held in a dueling arena, where competitors will duel one another with magic only. The remaining ten will depend on the scores achieved.

There are ten judges who will award points based upon the skill level they see and the spell knowledge of the duelists. The five with the highest points will progress to the sixth task.

TASK 6: Nagini

The Dark Lord's familiar will be locked in a room with each competitor, for exactly one hour. She will not harm any human being, but will go about her business. She will decide which three are to move on to the final task.

TASK 7: Unknown

Only the Dark Lord is privy to the details of this task.

Rules:

1. No one can quit. They must go through each task until they are disqualified.

2. If the judges decide, the competitor may be removed for health reasons.

3. There is to be no targeting of other competitors. Any who are found bullying/bothering those in the tournament, will be faced with corporal punishment chosen by the Dark Lord himself.

4. Felix Felicis is not permitted and a potion will be administered to each competitor to determine if they have consumed any, before each task.

5. No killing is permitted.

Signature of Participant:

Harry couldn't help but whistle. They had really gone all out with this.

He sent Hermione a look to find that she had already signed the paper. "Mione, did you read the rules and requirements already?"

"I'm about to."

"Mione, you need to read it through first! Never sign anything unless you have read it through! You could sign something away accidentally!"

Seriously, heirs were taught these sort of things to prevent tricks being played on them by others. Hermione was not reared in such traditions so she might not know of them.

"Harry, they don't require us to use our blood, so it isn't like we can lose our magic if something stops us from competing."

That didn't make him feel any better.

He folded the parchment and placed it in his bag. "I need to go speak with Madam Pomfrey about what she intends to have me do this year. I'll meet you in Potions."

Harry never knew that crimson eyes had followed his trail as he left the Great Hall. He probably wouldn't have liked the implications if he had.

Harry stormed into the Dueling Club room, frustrated beyond the shadow of a doubt. Madam Pomfrey had told him that basically, he would be studying for an exam that he would have to take at St. Mungo's. She could not do more other than help him prepare because she had taught him all she could for human Healing. He would have to take up separate study. So other than accompanying her Healing over the course of the term, he was on his own.

Basically, there was so much revision and study that he would have to do this year that he just wasn't going to have any time for Quidditch. That meant that he had to go to McGonagall and turn in his Captaincy. He hadn't wanted to, but if he was serious about his future, then that was more important than playing a game. He just couldn't handle orchestrating the tryouts, working the practices, and then the games and afterparties. It was too much for him to handle at the moment.

This lead to him wanting to blow off steam in the Dueling Club. There was always somebody there who wanted to win. Harry held the top potion in the school at present but that didn't mean that others wouldn't wish to challenge him. There was always someone who wanted to take a crack at it.

Just last year, he had almost lost his Undefeated Status of twenty-four consecutive victories, to Daphne Greengrass of all people. She was fierce and had managed to shatter his right arm, which Madam Pomfrey made him heal later on as extra work.

Basically, some people were good competition and Harry needed to let off some steam before going about his work for the evening.

His eyes landed on Draco Malfoy, who was standing by, watching some students who were also dueling.

"Hey Malfoy, want to duel?"

The blond and he weren't friends, but definitely rivals. It was fun to rile the other up and he knew that Malfoy felt the same. Also, any duel between them always ended up being lowered into dirty tricks. Anything to win, that wasn't death or torture.

Malfoy once summoned a Boggart, and so Harry had summoned a snake. Malfoy summoned Harry's glasses, so Harry summoned the blond's shoes. Harry then got his eyesight fixed so that couldn't happen again. And their duels always continued in the same vein.

The blond sent him a smirk. "Sure thing, Pothead. I warn you, my aunt has been teaching me some things."

Harry withheld a wince. Bellatrix Lestrange was probably the most terrifying person he'd ever seen. To be that beautiful and yet that terrifying at once, is just wasn't fair. She reminded him of a less than sane version of the Dark Lord and that was why she scared him more.

So Malfoy had gotten lessons. He highly doubted that they were pleasant ones though.

"Then let's duel."

They took up the space on the fourth platform, as the first three were already occupied by other duelists. Both had already removed their robes, because this sort of dueling needed no distractions and nothing to slow them down.

With wands raised, they crossed themselves once and bowed from the waist.

"Scared, Potter?" taunted Draco.

"You wish."

The two turned their backs and retreated ten steps. Whirling to face each other, they eyed one another, waiting for someone to act first.

After nearly a minute of Harry standing as still as a statue, Malfoy lost his patience and started big, with a blasting curse as the floor in front of Harry's feet. Harry dodged to the side, but did not bother to return the assault. He wanted to see just what sort of tricks the infamous Lestrange woman had taught her only nephew.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed and he twirled his wand, casting a yellow spell that Harry had learned from Sirius last year. It was supposed to work much like Langlock, but instead of sticking the tongue to the roof of the mouth, it sealed the lips shut completely.

Harry deflected it with a wave of his wand, sending it into the stone wall and rendering it useless.

Harry had only learned silent casting in his sixth year, like many of his other classmates, but he chose not to use it in dueling in order to keep the skill hidden for as long as possible. Instead, he tended to look up spells that weren't Latin based.

When most of the Hogwarts students took Latin as a sub-class, and could easily work out the meaning of such spells, using spells created only in Asia, for instance, would make determining their meaning and effects more difficult. Harry learned that trick from Remus and it had served him well thus far.

Stepping out of the way of a new curse that Malfoy had to actually verbalise, Harry realised that the other teen was trying to make it impossible for him to fight back in some fashion. Either by taking his speech, or vision, or hearing.

It was a sound strategy, but Harry merely smirked and leveled his wand at the other. In an instant, his Patronus shot forth, closing the distance between it and Malfoy.

The great Phoenix bowled the blond over, allowing Harry to summon his wand with ease.

"That is seven victories in a row, Malfoy."

The blond scrambled to his feet, his hair a mess as he tried to straighten his clothing. "When did you learn that?!"

"Three years ago, but it was only recently pointed out to me that if corporeal enough, they can actually affect things other than Dementors. It was a pretty cool realisation."

Harry handed the Slytherin his wand, to which Malfoy accepted it and gave a small bow to acknowledge that Harry won.

"I need to learn that spell," the blond mumbled. "That could be useful in so many endeavors."

"I know, right?"

The two departed the club room, ignoring everyone else. They began to bicker with one another on their way to the Great Hall, about how Malfoy was 'close' to winning.

Neither noticed the interested eyes following them.

"Severus, tell me about Harry Potter."

The dour man didn't even blink at the order. He simply nodded and began a detailed explanation.

"Potter is a seventh year Gryffindor and is one of the top students in the school. It seems that his mother has managed to rear him correctly, for he is nothing like his father. No pranking, no bullying, and nothing to get himself in trouble. The boy is oddly determined in his classwork and seems antisocial for the most part. His list of friends is very small.

Regretfully, he is a good Seeker in Quidditch and has even earned the respect of the other teams, Slytherin included, despite the fact that he has defeated them every year since coming to Hogwarts.

He excels in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and would probably excel at the Dark Arts if they were taught at Hogwarts. He has a desire to become a Magizoologist of all things. He is also Apprenticed under Madam Pomfrey however, and is going for a Healing Mastery as well."

Severus did not know why the Dark Lord was interested in the Potter brat, but he knew that it couldn't be good.

It just couldn't.

"You are dismissed, Severus."

Severus bowed low and departed quickly, hoping that he wouldn't have to inform Lily of her son's death any time in the future.

Lord Voldemort retrieved one of the extra parchments he'd left behind, adding the name with a flourish. It didn't seem that the teen in question was going to enter on his own, but Voldemort's interest was caught for some strange reason.

Folding the parchment, he smirked as the charm he'd cast on the specially made material, activated. He slipped the entry into the magical jar he'd created, and smirked at his genius. Yes, the boy might be angry, but Voldemort was sure he'd get over it.

Harry Potter would certainly make the tournament interesting.

A/N: The first is done!

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