A New Riddle - 1

My vision swirled as I regained consciousness. I couldn't remember what I had been doing, waking up like this was not something I wanted to repeat. This wasn't a hangover. It was more of a migraine on top of vertigo. Every inch of my body ached. I didn't feel right. My vision was hazy, and my heartbeat was pounding in my ears.

"Master." A nasal voice whined from nearby. "Master, please. You promised."

Their words were directed at me. I had no idea who they were or why they were calling me master. The soft soles of my feet touch something cold and hard as I stood. Two things became immediately clear. One, I was stark ass naked. Two, I was standing in a cauldron. I blinked a few times as I started to take in the rest of the world around me.

It was night, I was standing in a large cauldron, I appeared to be in a graveyard, and some random guy as hunched over nearby. To make things all the stranger, there was a kid tied up against a headstone and the guy was bleeding.

"M-m-m-master." The man beside me pleaded.

The rat-faced man looked up at me. He didn't just have a thin, pointy nose and buck-teeth. His nose was more of a muzzle with whiskers. I took a step back. The cauldron had been big enough to fit my body while I was curled into a ball. It did not have enough room for me to walk. My legs bumped against the other edge. I snapped out my hands and grabbed onto the side for stability. Another few things were revealed to me.

The first was that the man on the ground wasn't just bleeding, he was missing half of an arm. That fact was forgotten when I caught sight of a dead body not far from where the kid was tied to the headstone. Finally, and on a more personal level, I saw my own limbs for the first time.

I was so pale that I glowed in the moonlight. My arm was long and thin to the point of skeletal. I held up both of my hands in front of my face. My fingers were long and with just enough skin to cling to the bone. I wiggled them, half expecting them to clack against each other. Moving on, I ran my hands along my head and over my face.

Part of me knew what was going on, but I had couple more things to check.

The skin on my head was completely smooth without a hint of stubble. Thankfully, I had a nose. It was pointy and thin, but it was better than nothing. I probably looked like an old fashion vampire. Just in case, I ran my tongue along my teeth, they did seem sharper than normal.

"I am Voldemort." I said as I stretched my arms out wide.

There was no denying it. I couldn't write it off as a dream. The pain was still there and everything around me was too detailed. In fact, it felt like my nerves were on fire. Every few heartbeat would send a shock of tension along my spine. The sensation had to be what magic felt like to a person that could use it.

I recognized this scene. The rat-faced man was Peter Pettigrew, Harry Potter was tied to the headstone, and the dead body was Cedric Diggory. I stepped out of the cauldron.

"Robe." I commanded.

Pettigrew shuffled over to get my robe. I subtly took a look between my legs as I put on the offered clothing. It was just enough of a glance to make sure I still had my equipment, thankfully, I did. He then quickly handed my wand over as well. I purposely moved slowly to take the wand. Pettigrew held up his bloodied stump. I knew what I was supposed to do. A few magic words and I'd conjure him a new arm made out of silver. The incantation and wand movement appeared in my mind at the thought.

Instead, I hit the traitor with a stunner then cauterized his wound into a stump. I turned my attention to Harry Potter. It wasn't the actor, but it was Harry Potter. I didn't know how old Daniel Radcliffe had been at the time of filming, but this kid did not look fourteen. He was skinny and couldn't have been more than five foot two at most. The scar on his forehead wasn't a neat little lightning bolt either, it was jagged like real lightning.

"Harry Potter." I said as I stepped over the unconscious body. "Are you still bleeding?"

The boy glared back at me in silent rage. He went rigid as I got closer. I gave him an amused look when I saw that he had been working on getting out of the ropes. He had even used some of his blood to speed things along.

I tapped his arm with my wand. The wound healed without a word. Magic was flowing from me instinctively. I didn't need to scour my mind for what I needed to use. Which was good, I didn't have an encyclopedic knowledge of the charms and spells used in the books and movies.

He flinched as I raised a finger and traced it along his scar. The accidental horcrux harmonized with the shock along my spine. Being this close lessened the intensity of the pain ever so slightly. I stepped away. Another tap banished the ropes.

"What?" He glared at me. "Are you going to kill me as I run away?"

"Nah." I shook my head.

He gawked at my casual tone. I turned my back to him and returned to where Pettigrew lay.

"Do you think you could drag him with you?" I looked at him over my shoulder.

"What?" Harry stared at me like I was the one who was crazy.

"Pettigrew." I motioned to the man. "The port key is still active. If you take him back with you then you can prove Sirius Black is innocent." I toward the body of Cedric Diggory. "You'd have to come back for him though. I don't think you could take both."

"What are you talking about?" Harry yelled.

"I guess I could drag them closer together." I muttered.

I leaned down and grabbed Pettigrew under his intact arm. It was incredibly easy to move the wizard. True, he wasn't as portly as he had been portrayed in the movies, but he was still a full-grown man. Pettigrew looked more like Steve Buscemi's much uglier cousin rather than the guy from the movie. I set the unconscious wizard on the dead body.

"Do you think you can hold onto both of them and the cup?" I asked.

Harry's attention snapped back to me. I shifted my gaze to where he had been looking. His wand was perched atop a gravestone not far away.

"Don't forget your wand." I chuckled.

"And you'll kill me the moment I have it." Harry cut back.

I held up my wand, spun it around my long fingers, and then tossed it over to him. He snatched it out of the air on instinct. Harry's jaw dropped open as he looked from the wand to me and then back again. I pointed at his wand, then at him. Once again, he caught the flying object without a second thought. Now he held both wands.

"Tuck it behind your ear or something." I offered. "You're just asking to break it if you keep it in your pocket. They should have wand holsters. Get one of those."

"What are you doing?" Harry narrowed his eyes as he studied me. "What's to stop me from killing you right now?"

"You probably should." I shrugged. "We both know something is wrong here."

"Who are you?" He spoke the words slowly.

"Voldemort." I held my hands out. "Obviously."

"No, you're not." Harry sounded certain. "I've fought Voldemort since I was a baby. I know him, you are not him."

"And yet, here I am." I sighed. "Well, I'm off."

"Come with me." Harry called as I walked away. "You said the port key is still active. Come back with me and we'll figure this out."

"No, thank you." I chuckled. "They don't want to believe Voldemort is alive, but that won't stop them from locking me away for hundreds of years. Or having a Dementor kiss me." I paused, then turned to face him. "That reminds me. Moody isn't Moody. He's one of mine. Barty Crouch Junior. Barty Crouch's son. That's why you've been seeing the name on the map."

"How do you know about the map?" Harry whispered.

"It's getting fuzzier the longer I'm awake." I sighed. "People won't believe you when you tell them Voldemort has returned." I held up my hand before he could speak. "They won't because they don't want to. Focus on getting Pettigrew a trial and capturing Junior. That will do more for your cause."

"This doesn't make any sense." Harry yelled. "You're not…" He waved his hand in my general direction. "You."

"Pettigrew must have messed up." I shrugged as I turned to walk away. "Now, get going. It's late and it's a school night."

"No." Harry glared at me. "Not unless you're coming with me."

I looked up to the sky and muttered something. He had his wand pointed straight at me when I turned to face him once more.

"Harry." I clicked my tongue like an annoyed parent. "I just gave that to you. Do you want to lose it so soon?"

Harry squinted at that. The tone and the words did not mesh with the person who stood before him.

"Here's the deal." I took a breath and let it out. "Something went wrong with the ritual. Either your blood took a greater hold in the transfer and your personality overwriting the rough edges of mine."

"Is that possible?" Harry asked.

I took a considerable amount of will not to smile. He was adorable, just like a puppy that had just discovered his tail.

"No clue. It's just as likely that I'm some interdimensional traveler hurled into the swirling multi-verse by some random omnipotent being." I shrugged. "You take Pettigrew back. Capture the fake Moody. Blame them for all of this. I'll tell Lucius to push for a trial for Sirius Black and Pettigrew. He won't be happy about losing the Black Family Fortune, but I can handle that. You rest, relax, and have a good summer."

"What will you be doing?" Harry still had his wand trained on me.

"First, I'm going to take a long shower." I laughed.

Harry didn't join me.

"Fine." I grumbled. "I am going to start over."

His jaw clenched.

"Not like that." I rolled my eyes. "I'm going to start a new life. No one wants another war."

Harry raised his eyebrows at that.

"You don't agree?" I asked with a smile in my voice. "Tell me, our friend, Lucius. Do you think he'd like to keep going about his life of luxury and ease, or bow a knee to me?"

Harry's jaw loosened a little.

"What about Dumbledore?" I continued. "Does he want to continue being a horrible Headmaster, or try to convince everyone that the bad times are back?"

"Dumbledore is a great man!" Harry screamed.

"Maybe." I shrugged. "Powerful, sure. Skilled, without a doubt. A good headmaster? Not in the least. Look at the last four years you've been here. Want more? Think of everything you've heard about when your parents were here."

"You killed my parents." His jaw tightened once more.

"That reminds me." I snapped my fingers as the memory hit me. "Your scar. It's important. There is a piece of me in there."

"There's a piece of you in my head?" Harry screamed and charged toward me.

The wiry young wizard pressed the tip of his wand up against my throat.

"Sure, when you say it like that it sounds bad." I muttered.

He had tucked my wand behind his ear. I don't even think he realized he had followed my suggestion. My hand snapped out in a blur. He lurched to the side, expecting I was aiming for the wand. Instead, the scar on his forehead smacked hard into my palm.

We both screamed as black smoke erupted from his scar. Cold talon latched onto my skin. The horcrux stayed attached as I pulled my hand away. Harry wasn't in front of me anymore. Well, he was, but at least a couple of feet away. He was flat on his back. A surprisingly small among of blood dribbled from his scar. The redness and swelling faded more with each moment.

The black sludge that was the horcrux crawled up my arm. Dozens of little spectral hooks moved it along much faster than I was comfortable with. It didn't aim for my head like I thought it would. The horcrux leaped from my arm. It formed into a ragged shard directed at my heart. An excruciating cold lanced into my chest. It radiated from my heart and spread farther through my body with each beat.

I could feel Voldemort from that night try to take control. The spiritual shard fought with feral rage. A battle took shape in my mind-scape. We looked alike. Both were tall, thin, and pale. The shard was more monstrous. Its limbs stretched longer than they should, his face was entirely smooth, the chalk-white skin was pulled taut over his frame as though there weren't enough to cover all of it, and his pale blue eyes were covered in some sort of transparent layer.

The experiences from two separate lives clicked together in my mind. My mental projection was no longer too pale and too thin. Some color returned to my skin and felt the tickle of hair along my scalp. I could feel the muscles grow along my arms.

I pushed back, not with the mental projection, but with my magic. A wave of compressed power raced out from me in a shockwave. The specter of Voldemort shattered as the energy hit it. Warmth returned to my body.

My eyes opened. I knew a few things for certain. One, this was not my world. Two, I had Voldemort's memories sinking into my gray matter. Third, and finally, the 'insider' knowledge that I had arrived with was what fueled the destruction of the horcrux. From now on, I was on my own.

True to my vision, my body had healed. My skin had some more color and I had filled out just a bit. I was still skinny, but I looked half-starved rather than mostly-dead. Did that mean that each horcrux I successfully integrated would better my health? I wasn't sure that was a good thing. This horcrux had been easy. It was a mixture of baby-Harry and broken-Voldemort. Facing off against a horcrux with some competence would be risky until I got stronger.

A quick glance around told me Harry was still on the ground. The entire mind-scape tussle had lasted less than a second. His head had snapped my wand in the fall. No big loss, I was already planning on getting a new one. In the brief time I held it I could feel that Voldie's wand was annoying to hold. Not to mention there was no way I'd be able to use it. The thing looked like it was clearly evil.

I watched as Harry slowly started to regain consciousness. He blinked a few times as he sat up.

"Feel better?" I asked.

Harry nodded absently. He jumped to his feet and had his wand pointed directly at my heart in a flash.

"Nice reflexes." I commented.

"Who are you? Voldemort? You can't be…" His voice trailed off.

"Yeah." I sighed and crossed my arms. Subconsciously protecting my tender bit? Yes, yes I was. "It was nice meeting you, Harry. Remember to grab Cedric, Pettigrew, and the cup. It'll take you back to Hogwarts. Don't let Moody escape. He likes to talk about his devotion, ask him a couple of leading questions and hit him with a stunner when he's distracted."

Voldemort's genius level intellect and years of experience settled nicely into my mind. I waved to Harry then popped away. The only way someone would be able to track me was to get a fresh magical signature of the spell. Any residue would be gone by the time anyone arrived that knew how to do it.

If they did manage to track me, they'd find I hadn't gone far. Hogsmeade was a great place to start my new life. It helped that Voldemort had secreted away a stash of gold in one of the guest rooms in Three Broomsticks.

I settled into my new body as I walked along the empty street toward the building. The streets were packed with people for the final task. I wasn't sure how long it would take for Harry to return and for the chaos to start up. Hopefully, he would listen about telling everyone that Voldemort was back. He would tell Dumbledore, that was almost certain.

No one spared me a second look as I entered the Three Broomsticks. I acted like I was supposed to be here as I headed upstairs. The rooms were all rented out, as happens during sporting events. I stopped in front of the door and knocked. No one answered. I waited another moment before knocking again.

Still nothing.

"Skygge Venn." I whispered.

The spell was similar to Alohomora, as it was made to unlock things, but this one was specifically designed for subterfuge. Voldemort had learned it during a stint of study in Norway. Instead of unlatching a lock, it temporarily disabled it by slicing in apart. It provided a brief window to open the door and would reattach once the two pieces touched once more.

I scanned the room to see that it was indeed rented, but currently unoccupied. There was no way of telling how long the people would be out. I hurried over to the bed, pulled it out, and found the snake carved into the far post.

§Open.§ I hissed.

The snack swung open on a magical hinge. I plucked a small pouch of coins from the hiding spot then closed it back up. It took more effort than expected to push the bed back into place. I took it as a sign that my body wasn't up to my standards yet.

I slipped out of the room and headed downstairs. There was a wave of shouts and screams heading down the path coming from Hogwarts. It looked like the chaos was about to hit. I jogged over to the Apparation Point and popped away. It was pointless to stay in the village, it was only going to get more chaotic and there wasn't anywhere to get enough peace to think. A younger Tom Riddle, one that hadn't become Voldemort yet, had created little stashes of useful things in various places that he had frequented at some point. Once he became a 'Dark Lord' he stopped the practice so sure that his victory was assured. I could only hope that some of the caches were untouched.

It was time for a trip to Kings Cross.

~ ~
AN:
What do you say to this in place of A New Potter Redux?