Outside Little Hangleton, near Brighton in East Sussex, England…
"Kill the spare!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
Cedric Diggory blinked as he watched that green light race right for his face.
"GET DOWN!"
His vision was then blocked as someone leapt up between himself and oncoming death.
"HARRY!"
Harry Potter jolted as that bolt of energy slammed into his back, making his eyes go wide for a moment as all the electrical impulses in his body stopped thanks to the Killing Curse. Time seemed to freeze for the elder Hogwarts student as he gazed on his schoolmate's face, and then Cedric watched morbidly as Harry collapsed, falling atop the former and sending him sprawling. A second later, Cedric blinked as something seemed to float right over his face for a second, then dropped down right beside his left ear. He was quick to recognise the winner's cup of the Triwizard Tournament just as a familiar jerking sensation yanked at his stomach…
Hogwarts…
"It's Diggory and Potter!"
A wild shout of delight escaped through the crowd as they gazed on the sight of both Hogwarts champions sprawled on the ground near the judges' stand. At his place, Albus Dumbledore blinked as his well-honed metasenses quickly picked up something VERY wrong about the younger of the two students who had just portkeyed in. "Oh, no…!"
Fleur Delacour's horrified scream then echoed over the stadium as a muffled series of explosions echoed from the direction of Hogwarts Castle, making some people spin around to see a plume of magical flame and shattered debris escape a tower at the level of the headmaster's office…
Little Hangleton…
"Oh, dear…"
"Don't be alarmed, Uncle Peter. It was necessary."
Peter Pettigrew blinked on hearing that bright and almost cheery woman's voice echo from somewhere behind him. Turning around, keeping the baby-like form of the Dark Lord close to him as he levelled his wand, he demanded, "Who are you?!"
A slight chuckle escaped the girl in the shadows as she moved to step into the light from the still-bubbling cauldron Peter had begun to prepare for his master's return to a full physical body. "I wouldn't say I'm a friend," she admitted as her face came into the light, revealing very familiar features, complete with shaggy black hair that defied any attempt at controlling it and eyes the shade of the Killing Curse. "Just…consider me a temporary ally in restoring the Magister Maximus to full life and health." She then smiled. "Not to mention sanity."
Silence.
Peter gaped. "Magister Maximus…!" he hissed out, his eyes wide.
And that was understandable. The term Magister Maximus — literally, "the greatest master" — was a term that had to address five famous personages in known British wizarding history: Myrddin Emrys (also known as Merlin Ambrosius), Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw. The modern legal definition of the term accepted by the International Confederation of Wizards stated that to be addressed as one meant that the addressee had to have earned a dozen masteries in separate lines of study. No one in modern Britain — not even Albus Dumbledore! — had come close to earn the masteries needed for that title, to say anything of the lesser title Magister (which was meant to be bestowed on those who had earned at least six masteries in separate disciplines).
"How…do you know this…Harry?"
The girl smiled as she walked over to stand close to the cauldron, turning to gaze on the bubbling liquid inside. "It's Harriet, Master Riddle. Harriet Rose O'Neil." She then nodded in the direction where her old body had been struck down. "Harry Potter, thanks to Uncle Peter, just died a few minutes ago." She then smirked. "And no doubt is being mourned by many people while others will soon come to realise that whatever plots and plans they had that were dependant on Harry Potter just went up in smoke."
More silence.
"You wanted our help to fake your death?!" Peter demanded, his mind now coming close to crashing as he found himself gaping in disbelief at her.
"Of course," Harriet said as she gave him a smile, standing up to gaze into his eyes. "As we speak, all the monitoring devices our former headmaster set up to keep watch over me have no doubt exploded and wrecked his office. No doubt thanks to the magical feedback of all the shattered bonds on my magic that were placed on me over the years to make sure I was a pliable, malleable weapon they could use against the Magister Maximus." She indicated the now wide-eyed Voldemort with a hand. "After all, Prophecy is involved." A gasp as she clapped her cheeks in a good imitation of the famous Edvard Munch painting The Scream. "Oh, NO! We must not allow Prophecy to be unfulfilled, of course!" she moaned before a look of disgust then crossed her face. "We must do all to ensure it comes true! Even if it means leaving a defenceless wizarding child with his natural magic nearly choked off to suffer at the hands of the most narrow-minded and rhabdophobic norms you could ever meet."
Still more silence.
"Dumbledore, you mean…"
That was Voldemort, who was gazing upon Harriet with a mixture of awe and fear as he found himself recalling his own upbringing in Wool's Orphanage during the years of the Great Depression. "Yes, I'm afraid so," the transformed — reborn? — Harry Potter answered. "Now, as to why, I can't say. But it doesn't matter now. My destiny certainly won't be influenced at the cracked whims of a drunken Seer with delusions of competence. And yours should not be either, Master Riddle."
The transformed Boy-Who-Lived and the Dark Lord gazed into each other's eyes for a moment before the latter then nodded. "I can respect that," he said, surprised to feel new strength surge through his current body. "Unfortunately…"
"You needed my 'help' to give you a much better body than the one you have now," Harriet finished. "I can understand that. Just a moment." With that, she reached into her pants pocket to draw out an odd device that was clearly — to Peter's eyes — of Muggle origin. Flipping it open, Harriet then tapped a key.
"We read you, Tempest. What's the situation?" a voice called out in English.
"Nunavut Six, inform Base One that Operation Tri-Gem, Phase One is complete," Harriet replied. "I need the special package I prepared for the Lost Master sent to my current location as quickly as possible."
"Roger that, Tempest. Transporting now."
A strange ringing noise then echoed over the Little Hangleton graveyard as sparkles of light appeared nearby, solidifying into what appeared to be a military-style stretcher with a body lying on it, covered by a blanket. Harriet smiled as she slipped the device into her pocket, and then she walked over to kneel by the head, shifting the blanket clear as she turned to watch Peter come up. "Master Riddle, would this suffice for you?" she asked as she gave a wide-eyed Voldemort a knowing look.
Hogwarts…
"Magical bonds?"
"Yes, Minister. Far too many in my eyes," Poppy Pomfrey stated as she waved her wand over the unmoving body of Harry Potter. As the school healer, the medi-witch was well versed in initial post-mortem examinations since death — thought avoided as best as possible — often did happen even in a "safe" place like Hogwarts. "As you know, there are times when parents elect to bind elements of their child's magic as they grow up to ensure incidents of accidental magic don't get out of hand. But Mister Potter's body has well over five times the mandated limits of magical bonds on him. It's a wonder to me the poor boy didn't turn out to be a squib as a result of this!" Shaking her head, she blinked back tears. Much that she was hardened somewhat to the spectre of death when it came to her duties, the young boy now laid out before her had held a special place in her heart since he first began attending here.
Taking that in, Cornelius Fudge could only gape. "Merlin…!" he breathed out as he gazed on Harry's unmoving face before his hands clenched into fists. Much that he did have something of a deserved reputation when it came to his political skills, he DID understand certain core tenets of his duty as Her Majesty's Minister for Magic. "Madame Pomfrey, do you believe there is enough evidence for a criminal investigation to be carried out by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" he asked.
Poppy gazed on him. For years, she had railed constantly to Albus Dumbledore as to what she had discovered concerning Harry Potter. His malnutrition, the evidence of physical abuse, the dark magic of the famous lightning bolt scar over his right eye and many other things that had plagued the Boy-Who-Lived for so long. Every time she brought this up, the headmaster had waved it off, stating that Harry's unique circumstances as the vanquisher of the Dark Lord required an equally unique approach than what was normally mandated for someone who was Muggle-raised.
But now…
"I do, sir."
"Very well, then. Dawlish!"
A young and quite imposing Auror came up to him. "Sir?"
"Have a team come here at once to take Mister Potter's body to Saint Mungo's," Cornelius ordered. "This is to be considered a top secret mission, John. Ensure everything is done to make sure no one — and I mean NO ONE! — does anything to interfere with this investigation or tries to destroy evidence! Understood?!"
A nod. "Perfectly, sir!"
With that, Cornelius raced out of the Hospital Wing…
Little Hangleton…
"Robe me."
A smiling Peter Pettigrew moved to drape the dark robes over the body of the quite handsome man with the jet black hair and the bright blue eyes, appearing to be in early middle age, as would be expected of a wizard born in the mid-1920s. As he felt the comfortable robes settle on his body, the man born Thomas Marvolo Riddle could only smile before he reached over to grasp the familiar yew wand that had been at his side until that fateful night in Godric's Hollow years before. He then turned to see Harriet standing near the now dark caldron that had been meant to serve as the cradle for his original plan on gaining a new body. She was currently draped with Nagini, the rather large magical adder hissing in Parseltongue at the transformed Boy-Who-Lived. Quick to sense the gist of the conversation, Tom then blinked as his eyes focused on the beautiful glittering necklace wrapped around Harriet's neck.
"A Power Jewel?"
Harriet turned, and then she nodded. "You've met Major Raeburn?"
Tom smiled. "I've had that honour. During Grindelwald's War, she and her friends came to Diagon Alley to stop an attack by his Schwarzmädchen while I was working at Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn." A chuckle. "Quite a fight, that was. That was the final thing that forced Albus to confront Magister Grindelwald at Nurmenguard."
"Who is Major Raeburn?"
Tom gazed on Peter, and then he smirked. "A woman gifted with the power of the Gods Themselves, Peter. A soldier from Canada who fought during the muggles version of Grindelwald's War against the Magister's muggle allies then controlling Germany. She had the same type of necklace Miss O'Neil has on now. It gave her the ability to infuse her body with levels of power even the mightiest wizards in the world and throughout history could not equal." He gazed back on Harriet. "To get one, one must meet three qualifications. One must be an orphan. One must endure physical and/or emotional hardship as one grows up. And one must be a woman."
Taking that in, Peter then smirked as he gazed on his former friend's transformed son. "Hence, the sex change. How did you get that body, Harri?"
"Courtesy of a man who was charged by the Major to find people to help her in case her last mission — she went missing over a decade ago — went south." Harriet then smirked. "And given after all the things I've learned over the last four years concerning how my life's turned out, I was more than happy to take the chance to literally start all over again. As I hope, you will as well." She then smiled as she moved to shift Nagini offer shoulders so she could slither onto Tom's. "In the meantime, I'll let you have your girl back and I'll be off."
«You will bring the Protector of All Life back, will you not, young Speaker?»
Harriet gazed on Nagini, who was flicking her tongue at her. «I will,» she vowed in Parseltongue, and then she gazed on Peter. "You were fighting a civil war, Uncle Peter. I hold no animosity towards you over what happened to my parents. Or you, Magister Maximus," she added as she gazed on Tom, who clearly was surprised at the show of forgiveness. "If you wish to know more, please arrange for your friends' sons and daughters currently at Hogwarts to visit Gringotts. Tell them to ask for Junior Teller Griphook. You — and they — will understand then."
"Sounds interesting," Tom mused.
Harriet nodded. «And get your horcruxi back into your mind,» she then added in Parseltongue as she gazed on him. «I got the soul fragments from your diary, Mistress Ravenclaw's diadem and the part you accidentally lodged in me back at the cottage; you should sense your mind being a lot more whole than it has been for a long time.» As Tom's eyes went wide on hearing her mention that, she then stepped back before bowing properly to him. "Magister Maximus Riddle, I wish you well in your future endeavours." She then bowed to Peter. "Mister Wormtail, Miss Tempest hopes you will have a much more pleasant and fun-filled life than you've had to date," she then said in the mock-noble accent the Marauders used back in their school days. "She hopes you will appreciate the last prank she, as the son of Mister Prongs, will play on the sheep of this land." With that, she allowed herself to levitate into the air. "A fair evening to you both," she said before she soared away into the night.
Tom and Peter watched her go, and then the latter shook her head. "Merlin…"
"No, someone even older and stronger than that, my friend," the former mused as his eyes then turned to his familiar, his hand automatically stroking her scales. "We best get back into the mansion. There's work to be done," he then warned.
Peter nodded as we…
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