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Reincarnation Roulette

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

How it Began

There are many religions and beliefs around the world. Many stories, many different views of the afterlife, many different dirties that people believe or once believed governed over them. They vary in many different ways but some particular things usually match.

One such belief is that of the human soul, eternal and indestructible, a thing everyone has.

Now, contrary to popular belief, the world exists in four separate dimensions, not three. There are the three we can conceive followed by time. That's important. Remember it. Seriously.

"Not Harry, please!"

"Move aside, silly girl."

"Not Harry!"

Little Harry Potter didn't understand. All he knew was that there were scary noises and his mommy was scared and that there was a weird looking man standing right in front of him.

Then, there was a flash of brilliant green light. Little Harry scrunched his eyes and looked away. A thud sounded as his mother went to sleep. Harry frowned. He didn't want nap time! Especially not with that weirdo in the room. Little Harry looked down at his mother and did what all babies do to get attention and started bawling loudly.

Voldemort let out a small snarl. This was the brat fated to defeat him? Hah! With a twirl of his wand the dark lord letting a curse loose upon the unsuspecting child.

Now, the method the Killing Curse takes lives is not so different from how a Dementor leaves its victims scared. It's just far messier. You see, the Killing Curse forcibly causes the human soul and spirit to split from the body. This, the victim drops dead without any physical sign. They just cease to be. That's important too.

For, you see, as green lightning arched towards the child the blood runes Lily Potter had carved into the crib and energized with her own willing sacrifice activated. Voldemort had a brief oh shitmoment before the curse backfired and blasted him.

Little Harry screamed as the room exploded around him and the dark lord was blown to smithereens.

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, there was an unforeseen consequence to Voldemort's act that night. The Killing Curse is a spell that assaults the very soul of its victims. Because of that one little detail, something unexpected happened. As little Harry was the first survivor of the Killing Curse in recorded history, it could not have been foreseen.

Little Harry swayed back and forth before falling backwards into his pillow, unconscious. Getting memories from a past life at such a young age tend to do that to you, after all.


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Chapter 2

Bobby Singer, Supernatural, Part 1

Harry Potter was five years old when he realized his relatives were lying pieces shit. If how they treated him wasn't enough of an indicator, the rumors they spread about him and his dead parents were a big ass flashing sign that things were not as they should be.

That, and he kept getting odd flashes. A blond woman who smiled at him and made his heart skip a beat. Two women, a mother and a daughter, that he felt he'd known all his life. A pair of little boys looking up at him, watching them slowly grow from being pint sized little twerps until they were both taller than him. Harry didn't know their names but he fondly thoughts of the two as his idijits. He didn't know what that meant either and made sure to never ask his aunt about it.

After all, he'd once asked her where John had went and ended up in the cupboard for a week.

Harry Potter was seven when he hid away in the library, the one place Dudley wouldn't come near for anything less than a fifty pound note, when he noticed he could read. School had always seemed slow to him but it was at that moment that he realized he could read books meant for people way older than him. Not just that, he could also read in Latin and for some reason could understand other languages too.

Harry was nine when he met his first monster. He'd been running from Dudley- again. Harry Hunting was getting ridiculous, especially since his uncle would pay the little brat every time he noticed Harry coming home with a few extra bruises.

"Find the freak!"

"Think anyone will notice if we break his glasses?"

"Let's strip him so he has to sneak back home!"

Harry felt anger boil in his stomach. If he'd been an ordinary little boy, he probably would have thought he deserved it. If he was ordinary boy, maybe it wouldn't have escalated this far. But Harry wasn't an ordinary boy.

He'd lost count of the times he'd reacted on instinct and taken down Dudley and his gang before he even knew what he was doing. That had been the first time Uncle Vernon had hit him with the belt.

Instead of convincing Dudley's gang to back off, his actions had done the opposite. They were more determined than ever to beat the crap out of him. Knowing Harry would get a beating if he fought back was a plus.

Harry sneaked away and ran. He didn't look where he was going and he didn't pay attention to the steadily sinking sun.

That's how young Harry ended up in the cemetery and how he met his first ghoul.

He slipped into one of the crypts and panted slightly. All that running had tired him out. Harry waited until the sound of Dudley and his gang muted and he was sure they left before turning looking and at his surroundings.

Harry froze when he spotted a pair of glowing eyes glaring out of the darkness.

"Well, look at that, fresh meat!"

That wasn't very reassuring. Harry let out a squeak and fled. Or, attempted too. He hadn't made it five steps out of the grave before he was tackled to the ground and there was snarling in his ears.

Suddenly, it was like a dam broke. There was Harry Potter and there was Bobby Singer. Two halves of a whole and Harry wasn't sure who he was anymore. Was he the little boy that lived with relatives that hated him or was he the aged hunter that had helped raised a pair of boys more than their own father had? A child or an old drunk that lived in South Dakota? Not that it mattered much now. He was going to die.

"Oi, Jack, get off the kid!"

The body on top of Harry- Bobby- Habby?- Barry?- was pulled off.

Harry quickly rolled over, backed away and stood.

"Get off George! It's fresh meat! Aren't you tired of corpses?"

"Better a corpse than a brat! And you wonder why humans don't like us! Oi, brat, get going!"

Harry-Bobby didn't need to be told twice. He turned and ran. He'd killed ghouls before but in his current condition? Psh, yeah right.

"Yer a wizard, Harry!"

Harry froze.

He had magic. Come to think of it, that should have been more obvious earlier on. Blame it on denial, blame it on his still developing brain, but he'd never connected the dots to strange shit happening around him to magic. Or, more specifically, internal magic. Hell, he'd spent months wondering if Gabriel was playing an elaborate prank on him. He'd even tried calling for Castiel but all that had done was get him weird looks and his so called uncle trying to beat him.

Not that Vernon could, anymore. Harry Potter might willingly sleep in a cupboard but Bobby Singer had more pride than that. Threatening to cause a scandal worked nicely, especially with all the evidence he'd gathered. Cameras. Wonderful inventions.

Still, back to the point about him being a wizard.

Since he'd never once considered the possibility, the revelation led to one reaction.


His aunt's scandalized face was totally worth it.

"You mean yeah have an entire society… That's scarred shitless… Of saying some dumbass dark lord's obviously fake name?" Harry stated incredulously.

"Well, when yeh put it tha' way… Oi, language young man!"

Harry stared at the goblin. The goblin stared at Harry. The goblin barred his fangs. Harry's face twisted into a snarl. The goblin smirked. Harry returned it and the pair shook hands.

The rest of Gringotts could only look on in wonder.

"You're Harry Potter!"

"No, yah idjit, I'm the freakin' wizard of Oz."



"Well, well, well. Isn't this fascinating."

The moment Harry heard the voice speaking directly into his head he reacted with years of ingrained hunter instinct. He leapt up, rose the hat off his head, and sprinkled the damn thing with holy water. If the hat wasn't posed, Sam was shorter than those fairies that had kidnapped Dean and taken him off to Oberon.


Harry felt more than saw the burning glare of hatred the greasy haired professor flung at him.

Then, to his shock, the hat spoke again.

"I'm not possessed, you know, although I'm glad at least one person in this place knows what to do in case they come across a possessed individual. Now, if you would kindly let me do my job."

Wearily, Harry picked up the hat before glaring at it.

"No funny business, yah hear?"

"Yeah, yeah. Now, let me sort you! Bah. Year after year. There's always someone who gets a little wonky."

Harry grumbled but decided not to say anything back. The looks he was getting were enough.

Ravenclaw was nice. No idiots allowed, a riddle to get in, books where he could research his unique… Condition. Yes, that was it. Harry had a condition. Remembering a past life couldn't be ordinary, after all.

"Oi, Potter! Where'd you learn how to break a possession?" one of his new roommates, Michael Corner, asked.

The rest of Harry's roommates turned, curious.

Harry just shrugged.

"Read it in a book." He half lied. Okay, so the lore came from a book, but he hadn't bothered to actually read it.

"So all you have to do is throw water on 'em? Sounds simple enough!" this came from Terry Boot.

"Oh course not, dumbass. It's more complicated than that." Harry rolled his eyes before sitting down and motioning his roommates to sit around him. Sure, they were young to be tossed into hunting but hey, they were magical. Might as well extend some friendly knowledge.

Harry ignored the pang in his heart that reminded him of Dean and Sam and how he'd had many talks just like this with them.

"Mr. Potter, our new… Celebrity."

Harry blinked. What the hell?

Black eyes met his and Harry met the gaze head on. Snakes eyes bore into his before the latter flinched back and stumbled backwards, much to the confusion of the class. Snape looked at Harry wearily before ignoring him for the rest of the class.



"Troll! Troll, in the dungeon!" Halloween was rudely interrupted. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't there to see it. Like most hunters, the concept of actually celebrating Halloween left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

So, there was no Harry Potter in the Great Hall that day.

There was no Harry Potter to run to the aid of Hermione Granger, even though he'd heard Ronald Weasley's comment to her since Ravenclaws and Gryffindors conveniently shared Charms class that day.

Luckily, Professor McGonagall arrived in time to save Hermione. However, without Harry's interference she didn't get away unscathed and ended up in the Hospital Wing.

Despite Neville and Harry both visiting her, she was gone by the end of the week.

Hogwarts just wasn't worth it for her.

Harry froze.

The mirror… This mirror…

He could see himself, his old self, reflected in the image. Next to him to the side were Sam and Dean and he had an arm around Ellen and Jo was there smiling and Castiel was in the background and…

Without hesitation, he lifted his wand and simply let loose a blast of pure magic, his mind blank.

False promises and empty images designed to bend the mind weren't anything he was interested in.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore hadn't show up that first night. He had decided to let little Harry encounter the mirror first and give him some privacy. As such, there was nothing to stop Harry from shattering a priceless heirloom without a moment's hesitation.

Good riddance.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore smiled. On the inside, he was seething. The brat broke the Mirror of Erised and Snape refused to try and enter the boy's mind again after the first instance.

Normally, Dumbledore would never condone the use of mind arts on a minor but his knowledge of the Supernatural was frightening. From demons to ghouls to vampires, according to any classmate that had been asked. All Dumbledore knew for certain was that nothing he said could change Snape's opinion and that he'd been warned to not try the same, both by Severus and the Sorting Hat.

"Quirell's possessed." Potter said nonchalantly as he chewed on one of the candies Dumbledore had offered the boy.

Dumbledore froze.

"That is a serious accusation, Mr. Potter. What evidence do you have?"

"I put salt around the room and the bastard couldn't get out." Potter casually admitted.

Yes, Harry Potter truly was a headache to deal with.

Dobby, unfortunately, startled Harry. You don't take a hunter by surprise, especially not when you don't exactly look human. Had Harry known the elf, he might have regretted what he did.

As he did not, knocking Dobby out cold, tying him to a chair, and waiting patiently for the elf to wake up didn't bother him one bit. The terrified look, however, did, and Harry relented and let the elf go.

When the barrier refused to let him pass, Harry cursed up a storm causing several people around him to blush.

Harry Potter never befriended Ronald Weasley. As such, he never met Ginny Weasley. He was never friends with Hermione Granger.

Harry didn't have any friends, not really. He was an old man in a child's body so making friends just didn't compute. He saw them all as children. As such, he was sort of a big brother figure in Ravenclaws, even to the older students. Reliable most of the time and known to smack sense into people when they annoyed him.

These facts lead him to smacking a perfect upside the head before helping Luna Lovegood find her things.

"You're different." Luna commented.


"Your aura is old. Almost like one of the teachers." And with that, the odd girl skipped away, ignoring the look on Harry's face.

Still, Harry grew to like Luna. He figured she was psychic and mixed with magic it made her unusual. This didn't go unnoticed by Ginny, whom Harry had never met as he didn't know her brother.

As such, Luna was the first student to be petrified.

To say Harry was furious was like saying Hell was hot.

The creepy spirit boy was writing his name in the air.

Harry didn't bother listening.

Instead, he began to chant.

Riddle blinked and turned. What on Earth was that brat- as Riddle was only half a soul, or half of a soul that was connected to an object while still connected to the original since souls can't be split in the Supernatural universe, Harry didn't finish before the spirit screamed and was banished.

Dementors, Harry shuddered, are the worst.

He'd met a lot of twisted shit, ranging from Crowley to Shritiga, but he had to admit, Dementor's were one twisted piece of work.

However, anything living could be killed. Dementor's also seemed to feed of souls so potentially an anti possession tattoo would ward them off. It kept souls from invading the body, after all, so it might keep the soul from getting pulled out too, thus negating the Dementor's effect. If all else failed, salt rock couldn't hurt, right?

Someone had shoved him.

Harry wasn't sure who and he frankly didn't care. Not when the boggart twisted into Sam, one of his boys, his face twisted cruelty and his eyes glowing blue.


The part of Harry that was Bobby screamed in rage at the sight of the person that had harmed his boys so much. Instead of terror, he felt anger. Bobby lifted his wand and-

And was blasted backwards, along with half the class, as Lucifer-boggart swiped his hand as if batting away a fly. Then, a hand wrapped around his throat and he was lifted in the air. Soft eyes- Sam's eyes- met his.

"I'm so going to enjoy this. How do you think he'll feel when he wakes and realizes he's killed you, I wonder? He can see, you know. Scream for him."

Then the boggart was blasted away and the Professor was standing in front of Harry. Harry gasped and fell to his knees as the boggart shifted into a glowing orb that quickly shifted into a balloon that spun around the room.

Harry stood slowly, every part of him shaking, as the teacher turned to look at him.

"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?" Professor Lupin asked.

Harry didn't respond. Instead, he spun around and left.

"Class dismissed!"

Remus picked up the papers on his desk and flipped through them before he noticed a student still in the room.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

Harry was standing in the middle of the room with a peculiar expression on his face. Remus was about to tell Harry he needed to leave to get to his next class when the boy spoke and he froze. It was just one word, but it made his blood curdle.


Remus said nothing.

The look on his face said it all.

"You know, I use to think all monster's were evil. If it ain't human, it should die." Remus paled rapidly. Those words coming from James' son just didn't… How on Earth? "Then, I realized monster ain't really 'bout species. It's a choice. You don't harm people, so you aren't a monster, no matter what any dumbass tells yah. Remember that, Professor Lupin."

With those words, Harry turned his back to him and walked out, leaving Remus Lupin with some serious thoughts.

Harry Potter never befriended Ronald Weasley. After he spent an hour screaming at the Ginny Weasley last year for writing in a cursed object, Ron outright hated Harry. The feeling was hardly mutual. Harry couldn't bring himself to hate a child if he tried, although Malfoy needed one hell of a spanking.

Which is why Harry Potter wasn't present when Peter Pettigrew was captured. Since Harry wasn't there, Peter died right then and there. Snape arrived and didn't bother listening to reason. Lily was dead because of Black, end of story.

It was for that reason that Sirius Black and Remus Lupin ended up fleeing, both becoming wanted criminals as the Ministry had the body of Pettigrew tossed through the veil.

Wouldn't do to have a scandal like this, after all.

A fourth slip of paper popped out of the cup. Dumbledore blinked and took it in his hand.

"How peculiar. It's blank."

And so it was that Harry Potter avoided that thrice damned tournament due to Barty Crouch not realizing he was dealing with a reincarnated individual.


Chapter Text


Chapter 3

Bobby Singer, Supernatural, Part 2

Barty Crouch was beside himself with rage as he paced back and forth in his(Moody's) office. How in the nine hells had the Potter brat gotten out of the tournament? He'd been sure the plan would be foolproof! It should have been foolproof!

Signing a piece of paper, or worse, taking the boy's name from one of his assignments and tossing it into the cup would have been asinine. The Triwizard cup was an ancient magical artifact. Something so simple would never work to fool the cup. Besides that, entering him like that would list Potter under Hogwarts and the whole point was to guarantee the brat was forced in the tournament. The only way to do that was for him to be listed under a fourth school.

No easy feat, to be assured.

So, Crouch had done one better. He'd gone to the old Potter house, found an old child's toy lying about, and copied the magical signature onto a piece of paper. Then, he'd tossed that into the cup after confunding the cup into believing there was a fourth school entering this year.

The only possible way his plan could have failed was if- if…

Crouch froze.


Had Harry Potter truly survived? Was this child a fake, an elaborate ruse constructed by Dumbledore? Had the real Potter died thirteen years ago?

Crouch took out a parchment and began to list ideas. Magical signatures didn't just change all of a sudden, after all.

1. The real Harry Potter was dead and they were dealing with a decoy.

2. Some of the dark lord's magical power gotten mixed with Potter's and changed his magical signature.

3. Potter had performed the controversial and somewhat illegal past-life viewing ceremony which was banned due to causing insanity in adults, never mind teenagers.

4. Dumbledore had caught on and gotten rid of the fake entry, in which case his post here was at risk.

5. Potter had a long dead twin since a long lost living one would have still caused a reaction.

Crouch twitched as he looked down at the list. He didn't have enough information. He needed more data. The only reason he hadn't been Crucioed into insanity all ready by his very ticked off boss was because he was too far away for Voldemort to break.

He needed to study Potter's magical signature.

He needed an object Potter kept close and had kept close for at minimum several months. He also needed something that wasn't infected by his roommates magical signature.

He needed… He needed… The boy's glasses or wand. Either would do.

Fred and George Weasley stared at the conundrum that was Harry Potter. Or, rather, they stared at the Marauder's Map and the rather odd glitch it seemed to have recently developed. This was worse than the Pettigrew glitch that mysteriously vanished last year.

How could a person have two names on the map?

There it was: Harry Potter/Bobby Singer. Was the Boy Who Lived possessed? Did he get a name change? Was this like the Quirrell glitch that for some reason had Tom Riddle slashed next to it? What did it mean!

The twins had mixed feeling on Potter. On the one hand, they'd pranked him once. The look they'd been given had made their mother's glare look like a clawless kitten's. Potter had also saved their sister two years ago. However, he'd also yelled at her for over an hour, thundered about what a dumbass she was, and did everything short of smacking her upside the head.

They'd also caught Potter smuggling in firewhiskey which they admittedly admired him for. There was also a rumor going around that he'd drunk Professor Flitwick under the table once but no one really believed that one.

(Professor Flitwick sneezed and prayed none of the rest of the staff ever learned he'd taken up a teenager on a drinking contest instead of confiscating contraband. He'd also never confess to losing, either. He had his pride as a part-Goblin, after all.)

This was something that needed to be explored in detail.

And so it was that both the Weasley twins and Barty Crouch Junior set off on their mission to stalk the boy who wouldn't die.

Harry flicked through yet another book on reincarnation and the studies of the soul before slamming it in frustration.

For some reason beyond him, any book in the library about souls either had massive censorship, entire chapters missing, or one liners that mentioned the topic wouldn't be discussed in that particular volume and to look for the next one.

He reflected on what he knew. As Bobby Singer, he had grown up in the United States, became a hunter, and died at the hands of a Leviathan. After that, he'd been a ghost and eventually managed to pass on only to be sealed into Hell before Sam managed to free him. That wasn't what bothered him. No, what confused him was he following.

How the fuck did he end up reincarnating into the past! The year was 1994! He'd died in 2012! Was he even on the same planet? Was this an alternate dimension? Bobby cursed Crowley, Dick, and Castiel, in that order. Bobby stood and left, unaware of his three stalkers.

Percy's boss was stalking Potter/Singer. This, the twins hid behind a tapestry, waiting for him to pass.

Unfortunately, Crouch not only had the body of Alastor Moody, he also had Moody's eye.


The First Task involved dragons. Personally, Bobby was surprised to learn there was another species of dragon out there and wondered if they'd turn into people. Either way, he kept Luna far away.

The Second Task involved merepeople and swimming. Bobby didn't even bother watching that one. Who wants to watch a lake surface for a couple of hours?

The Third Task, however, was when things went to hell and how Bobby found himself attacked by Viktor Krum and found himself dragged into the maze. Bobby woke with a headache as he was unceremoniously dragged by his feet, his wand and glasses missing and rope bound around his legs.

Scrunching his eyes and cursing his bad eye sight(and Crowley), he spotted Krum holding onto the other end of the rope with a dazed look in his eyes.

Bobby pulled his leg back and watched in satisfaction as Krum fell back. Krum turned towards him but was too slow as Bobby tackled him to the ground and head butted him, hard.

"Potter? What are you doing here?"

Bobby turned around and noticed Cedric Diggory, dirty and covered in twigs and cuts, leaning against the hedge.

"This little shit got himself mindraped and kidnapped me." Bobby motioned his thumb towards the knocked out Krum. "You?"

Cedric blanched.

"You serious?"

"Do I look serious, boy?!"

"... I'm older."

"... Just shuddap and help me get loose! My wand's missing, my glasses are missing, and I need whiskey. Preferably scotch. Ah, never mind. Dumbass forgot to take my knife!" Bobby exclaimed as he cut the ropes.

Cedric could only stare. He'd heard Harry Potter was odd but this was just… And why did he have an American accent?

"Blood of the enemy, you shall revive your foe!"

Bobby cursed. He'd finally found someone from his past, someone who confirmed his existence and that he wasn't crazy. Unfortunately, that person just so happened to be…

"Flesh of the servant, willingly given!" Ruby gleefully exclaimed as she cut off her own hand.

Why did it have to be Sam's annoying ex lover? Honestly, who falls in love with a demon? Then again, half the Supernatural fandom was either convinced Dean was either screwing Sam, screwing Castiel, or screwing both. Bobby cursed Chuck(and Crowley).

Bobby didn't bother paying attention to Voldemort as he gave his monologue to his newly gathered followers. Instead, he wondered who he should gank first, Snake-face/the male Gorgon or that demonic Satan worshipping bitch that had gotten one of his boys hooked on demon blood.

On that note, he needed to kick Castiel's ass too next time he saw the angel.

The ropes suddenly fell off.

"And now, we duel. I assume you've been taught how to du-"

Really, it was a no brainier. The rune encrusted knife dug itself into Ruby's chest and she screamed as her demonic form was forced out of the body she was currently occupying. Bobby, and the Death Eaters, watched in surprise while Bobby cursed the knife.

It was suppose to kill demons, not expel them, dammit!

He didn't get a chance to reflect more as a Killing Curse struck him and the world turned black.

Bobby blinked. He was back in his old body! He was old and his bones creaked and- shit, why did he want this body back again? And why was he in a white train station? How did they keep this place so clean? How-

"Well, isn't this just fascinating."

Bobby froze. He knew that voice. Slowly, he turned, and there he was. Death himself gave Bobby a look as he leaned on his cane.

"Where am I?"

"A crossroads. You can either choose to die and pass on again or you can go back. Or, you can enter the reincarnation cycle again." Death offered as he began to circle Bobby, making spiders crawl up his back. "Your pick, Bobby Singer. Although, I'm surprised you remember anything at all. You shouldn't look like that." Death commented, motioning towards Bobby's aged figure.

"Why do I look like this? And why the hell can I remember my past life? Screw that, how am I in the past!"

"Overpopulation. You humans reproduce like a virus since I was sealed away. As such, to make up for it, when people get reincarnated the souls can end up in the past. As long as two people sharing the same soul don't meet, there isn't a problem. Be glad you got reincarnated as a human." Death explained casually as if talking about the weather.

"... And if I do come across my other self?"

"I'll be forced to erase you. Permanently. Normally, that wouldn't be the case, but, since you somehow recall everything… It would be a mess that I simply can't be bothered to clean up. Those Winchester's are already enough of a nightmare."

Death then looked away from him, his eyes fixed on the ground. Bobby turned and paled as he noticed the… Thing on the ground.

"The hell is that?"

"That is what happens when you stretch the soul and seal shards of it away. I'll make you a deal, Bobby Singer." Death began and Bobby was instantly wary. The last deal he made was with Crowley and that didn't exactly turn out okay. Death stared Bobby right in the eyes. "You hunt down these so called soul shards and I'll ignore the fact that your soul is capable of remembering a past existence and I won't just delete you like I do most others like you. Understood? Good. Begone."

Bobby didn't get a chance to curse the bastard before he suddenly found himself in an empty graveyard next to Ruby's vessel and his knife missing.

The Dementor howled and burst into flames after Bobby stabbed it with a blood covered stake. Who knew that yew tree covered in ghoul blood would work such wonders? Experiment success!

Bobby smirked before turning to the other Dementor that had pinned his fatass of a cousin. The anti-possession charm did, in fact, ward Dementor's off. With that, he stabbed the Dementor in the back and watched as it too died in a fiery flame.

And that was how Bobby Singer converted Dudley Dursley into a hunter.

"Quickly, inside!"

"Yeah, yeah, don't get your panties in a twist!" Bobby snapped as he made his way into Number 12, Moody grumbling behind him.

Then, Tonks just had to trip up the troll stand. The curtains opened and-


"Shut the hell up, you old twisted hag! Balls, I get the concept of not wanting to move on but terrorizing the living is another thing! Screw off and go back to hell you underworld reject!"


"I don't give a stinkin' shit about your pedigree! The hell are you, a prized bitch at a dog sale?"


"Fuck it. Exorcizamus te, Omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica.."

"What- what are you chanting? What is this magic!"

Bobby smirked as the woman in the painting slowly loosed color and the painting became just that- a painting.

Then, ignoring the incredulous and slightly feared looks he was getting, sauntered off.

"So, I'm your godfather and my name is-"

"Don't care." Bobby interrupted with a glare. This man reminded him of John at his worst, drowned in his need for revenge and ignoring his children. There was a reason those boys viewed him as a better father figure than they did John. Still, the look in those eyes… Bobby was going to regret this as he motioned the man inside.

Sirius made his way into the room, a dark feeling in the pit of his stomach. This was not going well, not that he expected it too. He'd chosen revenge over his godson, after all. It had felt great at the time and Sirius knew that if events repeated themselves he'd kill Peter all over again.

"Sit." Bobby motioned to a chair before sitting on the bed himself.

Then, against his better judgement, Bobby revealed things that left Sirius stunned. Perhaps it was what was left of Harry Potter that prompted him to do so. Who knows. All Bobby knew was that he trusted this mad. So he told him everything. How he remembered his past life and had suspicions as to how and the ultimatum that had been imposed upon him. How he wasn't really a teenager but was instead in his fifties, mentally, and how he'd found himself in the body of the child.

More importantly, how he didn't need Sirius at all because he wasn't a boy or a teenager but a man.

Without saying anything, Sirius stood and left.

"You have been told a certain Dark Wizard is back. This is a lie. This-"

"And yer point?"

Bobby was, simply, tired of this bullshit.

"I'm sorry? For a moment there, how silly of me, it sounded like you were questioning the Ministry!" Umbridge giggled.

"I am you bint." Bobby didn't even bat an eyelash as the class gasped. Umbridge herself looked stunned at such blatant disrespect. "Who cares whether Voldemort is back or not? This is a Defense class, where we learn how to defend ourselves against whatever the hell's out there."

Umbridge giggled again.

"And who would want to hurt such sweet innocent children?"

"Want a list?" Bobby asked as he pulled a literal list from his bag.

Needless to say, he got a month's worth of detention.

Now, there is an important change that had yet to be said outright that needs to be addressed. Voldemort struck Barry Potter with a Killing Curse a second time in the graveyard where Cedric Diggory gave his last breath.

As such, the horcux in his scar died.

And so it was that Voldemort did not lead Harry into a trap through a nonexistent mental bond.

Voldemort growled as he stared down at the report Crouch had given him. After studying both the enchanted map, Potter's glasses and wand, a conclusion had been reached.

Potter had actual performed a past life viewing ceremony. Voldemort immediately had all his contacts look into a Bobby Singer to discover what new strengths his foe possessed.

Unfortunately, he didn't bother checking Muggle records. Bah. Who'd check those?

The Butterfly Effect is something that can be very dangerous. In this case, it was. While Bobby Singer had all of Ravenclaws to back him and scattered believers in the other houses, Voldemort refused to make blatant moves. Or, at least, moves the Ministry fucking acknowledged.

Balls, Voldemort had destroyed Azkaban! Ministry response? Sirius Black. Amelia Bones, dead. Sirius Black. Missing muggles? Sirius Black. Sirius, Sirius, Sirius!

Screw this. Bobby needed an old fashion hunter-style assassination. Wizards were useless. He needed muggles.

Bobby glared down at the locket before tossing it into a box and burying it at a crossroads. Patiently, he waited.

"You called?"


Bobby turned and glared at a smirking Crowley. Of all the crossroad demons, why him?

"There's a soul shard in there." Bobby pointed towards the buried box.

"Duly noted, boy. However, we don't accept transactions wagering someone else's soul. Bad for business, you see." Crowley explained

Bobby snorted. "Tell that to Death."

Crowley froze.


"Death wants this freak taken care of. Apparently, he's offended."

"Death has been sealed for decades. Since the end of the World War." Crowley countered.

"Then we don't want him waking, do we? You can track the rest of the shards, correct? I'll take the main one down, you take the small ones down, and Death stays sleeping." Bobby negotiated.

Crowley stared. Then, he laughed. He kept on laughing events Bobby gave him a look that said he was seriously reconsidering this.

"Well played. Deal."

The kiss made Bobby's skin crawl and he responded by trying to knife the son of a bitch.

Voldemort marched on Hogwarts, his army trailing behind him. That eternal pain in his ass had somehow discovered his horcruxes and destroyed them all.

This was the end.

No more!

He would strike down Harry Potter, he would end this farce, he would-!


The Death Eaters screamed as their leader was suddenly without a head. Soon, they to began to drop like flies.

The wonders of muggle weaponry.

For years, Bobby waited patiently. Death's threat still hung over him and he didn't want to know what would happen if he encountered his other self. Finally, in the year 2015, he made his way back to the United States with Luna, Remus and Sirius in toe, leaving chaos behind him.

Hunters learning of a population of mind altering magic users hadn't exactly gone over very well, but that's a story for another day.

He had a pair of boys to find, after all.


Chapter Text

Published: February 16th, 2016

Warning: SPOILERS for the Expanded Universe and Episode 7! On that note, why did they name Han and Leia's kid Ben? EU fans will know why this annoys me. Bah.

A/N: I do not like Fudge. Downright hate him. Normally, I avoid writing too much about characters I can't stand to avoid bashing them. On the other hand, can someone like Fudge really be bashed and be out of character? Either way, bashing him makes more sense than the ever prevalent Ginny, Ron, and Molly bashing. I shan't speak of Dumbledore bashing as that one makes sense if you really think about it and the other three were born out of pissed off Harmony shippers annoyed at canon.

On another note, anyone caught up on Fairy Tail? Acnologia is just… It's like Fairy Tail has its own Madara now, except Acnologia is so much more badass and less annoying. Anyways, on with the story!

Chapter 4

Han Solo, Star Wars, Part 1

Harry Potter had just turned thirteen when he died. The way he died wasn't typical, and, depending on who you ask, it wasn't dying at all. Harry himself would like to differ to that particular statement.

After all, the person he had been had died and he'd been reborn as someone else with new memories crushing down onto his mind.

His death wasn't a thing of grand or wonder. His body survived perfectly intact even if everything else had suddenly changed in one single pivotal moment. Harry Potter died the moment a Dementor nearly tore out his sole and was he reborn as Han Solo. He would of died, period, if Remus Lupin hadn't warded the Dementor off.

It was in that moment that memories of two lives mixed themselves into a young Harry's mind.









The… Other Ben. Ren, his mind supplied.



Needless to say, he passed out then and there.

Minister Fudge was panicking. Dementors had attacked the Hogwarts Express! Dementors he had set on the train to search for Sirius Black! Worse, one of them had nearly kissed the Boy Who lived!

"This is an outrage! A scandal! I don't know what to do, Lucius! The public outcry!" Fudge cried as he paced up and down his office frantically.

Sitting across from him was were his two top advisors, Lucius Malfoy and Dolores Umbridge.

Umbridge sipped at her tea.

"Doesn't Potter have a history of wild claims? Fighting magical creatures on school grounds?" Umbridge chimed.

Fudge turned to her.

"What are you suggesting, Dolores?"

Lucius tutted and a smirk fell from his lips. Leaning forward on his cane, the Malfoy scion spoke.

"It's very simple, Minister. Just like the basilisk and the troll, the Dementor didn't come to Potter. Obviously, considering his… History with magical creatures, he went to it, resulting in the current situation."

Let it be said that Cornelius Fudge was never a good man. Tossing a thirteen year old to the dogs to save himself? Painting a child out to be a danger seeking suicidal brat who was going to end up getting himself killed? Covering up a rather glaring security risk in order to save his own ass?

Instead of these facts leaving Fudge horrified, as any decent human being would be, he felt himself relax and gave a relieved sigh.

A week.

Han slept for a week. Honestly. It felt like he'd chugged five bottle of Tarisian Ale mixed with several shots of Corellian Brandy and maybe even a Hutt Killer tossed in for the hell of it. Never. Drinking. Ever. Again.

It took a week for two separate lifetimes to merge with the mind of Harry Potter. In both, he'd grown old and died. Han wasn't sure which he preferred since both had their tragedies.

What was worse, losing a son, losing Chewie, and having his daughter kill her twin who'd been twisted by the darkside until he was a mockery of himself, or the life where he'd separated from Leia and Luke, failed to stop his child's descent into darkness which ultimately ended with his own kid skewering him and tossing him to his death?

For seven days, no student had dared come near the Infirmary. News of Potter challenging a Dementor had already spread and no one wanted to be near him to catch the crazy. The fact that it resulted in him screaming in his sleep for hours on end didn't help matters either.

Well, almost no student.

The Weasley's and Harry's dorm mates, all of them, were exceptions. Ernie Macamillion and Justin Flint-Fletchy were also frequent visitors. Ultimately, it had been Harry, not the staff or the Ministry or the higher ups that were suppose to keep them safe, that had stopped the attacks last year. Say what you will about Hufflepuffs, but the Hufflepuffs were nothing if not loyal, something the rest of the House was quick to be reminded of by a very furious Cedric Diggory when he'd heard rumors spread about how Harry was a suicidal brat who'd let his status get to his head and thought he was invincible.

Ginny clung to the twins as Harry have another shout and turned in his sleep, his back arching. Madam Pomfrey looked on with sadness.

"Isn't there anything you can do?" Hermione asked desperately. Seeing Harry like this… It broke her heart, really. The fact that this could have been any of them and the Ministry still insisted not only on blaming Harry but keeping the Dementors had shattered Hermione's once strong faith in authority.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head.

"I've already given him a calming draught. Dementor's are known to give mental damage to those that they get close to kissing, which makes helping someone afflicted like that difficult. Entering his mind would be… Ill advised." She glanced at the next bed over. Severus had volunteered. Hate Potter as he might, seeing Lily's child in all that pain drove a stake through his heart.

"Will he be… Is he going to…" Ron couldn't bring himself to say it.

"There is precedent. Because he's so young, the likelihood of him coming out unscathed is actually lowered. On the other hand… He'll be… Different." Madam Pomfrey tried to state delicately.

Seamus's head snapped up.

"What do you mean, different! The hell's wrong with him!"

Madam Pomfrey sighed. She'd put off telling Potter's friends because she believed it would be better if it was his choice to reveal private details, but a week had passed and she had come to the conclusion he'd need support once he snapped out of the trance he'd fallen into.

"Leia! Don't- no- Ben- Jacen- Ben- Ren- Mara!" Potter babbled names. He'd done that a fair number of times.

"Dementor's attack the soul. Now, this is just a theory, but it is believed that on rare occasion, when a Dementor attempts a kiss but fails, the soul defends itself by recalling… A past existence." Pomfrey explained as she sat down.

The others froze before their gazes all turned back to the withering boy who's quieted down to whimpers.



"A past,"


"Will he even be,"

"Harry at the end of-"

"Stop it! Ginny screeched and smacked her brothers before leaping up, glaring at them with unending fury.

"Harry is Harry! Even if he's remembering another life, that doesn't change the person he is! It just means… Well, it just means there's more to him than there was before, but he's still Harry!"

"Kriff, Leia! Sweetheart, I love you, but could you tone it down? Trying to sleep here! So, unless the Yuuzhan Vong have gone apeshit again, quiet!"

Slowly, every head turned towards the sleeping teenager who muttered a little more before hitting his pillow into shape and snoring away.

"I think that theory just got proven." Ron stated with a look towards Madam Pomfrey. The remark got him a smack from Hermione.

Han slowly blinked himself awake. With a yawn, he stretched his arms before running his eyes, glancing around the room. He blinked once. He blinked twice.

Then, with a groan, he fell back in annoyance.

"I swear, Ben, if this is another of your pranks, young man, you're grounded- the hell, when'd I get so fraking small!"


"I don't think he remembers us." Dean spoke weakly.

Harry's head snapped up with a glare. Dean flinched back at the intense gaze he was suddenly subjected to.

"Where am I? Who are you people? Why have I… Shrunk? This isn't some creepy Sith Alchemy, is it? 'Cause I'm done with that crap after Onderon." Then, Harry shuddered for no conceivable reason.

This was bad.

This was very bad.

It took them hours to explain everything to Harry. Halfway through, Ginny ran out the room in tears when Harry reluctantly admired he still couldn't remember her. The twins had left after her and only the apologetic look on Harry's face kept them from cursing him.

"So, let me get this straight. I died."


"And now, I've been reincarnated."


"I attend a school for witches and wizards, and I remember my old life because the forbidden love child of a Mynock and a Ysalamir tried to suck out my soul." There was definitely skepticism in that one.


"One problem with that." Han stated. The others fidgeted. Convincing Han, as Harry demanded to be called, was rather difficult. He seemed convinced at first that he'd been captured by something called a Sith and that this was all a cleverly conjured mental illusion. Their bafflement at the concept of science had changed that belief. Even space wizards believed in science and these weren't space wizards. "How come I remember two lives?"

Pomfrey choked.

"Come again?"

"I remember two lives. They start out the same, stay the same for decades, then split midway through. Seriously, the only similarity is that I have kids with the same woman and my son goes apeshit following his grandfather's legacy." Han explained.

At this, Pomfrey was at a lose. Reincarnation was one thing, but what Potter was mentioning were alternate realities, creating by a diverting point. That in itself wasn't significant. Wizards knew about these alternate realities. That was nothing new. Accessing them was out of the question, but their existence was known.

Remembering living through two lives that diverged and thus made alternate realities, however, had never happened before.

So, of course, it happened to Harry Potter.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore frowned from his spot, invisible for all to see. This changed everything. All his plans. All his machinations and manipulations meant nothing in the face of this newly altered Harry Potter.

No matter. He'd adjust. War is a constant struggle. Those who can't adapt die. And Dumbledore? He was a soldier, through and through.

It took Han months to adjust. It took him around a month after getting released from the Hospital Wing for all his memories as Harry had returned, and boy, was he pissed

You do not treat a child like that! Hell, I'd of been better of raised by Gamorreans!

Han had tried to avoid people after leaving the Hospital Wing. Key word being tried. Instead, he always had at least one person following him, and don't get him started on the way the students looked at him and whispered behind his back. If it wasn't one of his dorm mates, it was a Hufflepuff, as nearly the entire party had united behind him for some inconceivable reason.

Elsewhere, Cedric Diggory sneezed.

Fudge was dead. So, so dead. Seriously, it was like dealing with a Tarkin he wasn't allowed to blow up. Okay, so it was Luke who'd actually blown up the Death Star(along with Tarkin), but still! Han had helped, hadn't he?

Suddenly, their path was blocked. Han groaned. Not this kid again. This was worse than Greedo.

Draco Malfoy smirked.

"Going to go attack another Dementor, Potter?"

The rest of the students just watched on. Holy Sith, you'd think they'd tire of the same thing happening over and over again.

"Go away, Malfoy. We don't want to deal with-"

"But out, Weasel. Grown ups are speaking now. Or can Potter not speak for himself?"

A red blast shot past Malfoy's ear, causing him to freeze. He flinched and his hand rose to cup his slightly singed cheek.

Harry Potter stood before him, lazily pointing his wand at him before lowering it.

He hadn't spoken a word. Just lifted, pointed, and cast.

"I normally don't hurt kids. You, however, are asking for a spanking, young man. Did your parents never teach you that bullying is wrong? That bothering another classmate is something you aren't suppose to do? Well? Yes? No? Were you raised Mandalorians, 'cause you keep trying to pick a fight. Trust me. You'll lose."

Malfoy refused to speak. Hastily, he drew his wand. He never saw the stunner that hit him.

And so began the famous Battle of the Second Corridor. There were many casualties, wounds, and knocked out teenagers. Harry Potter also just so happened to receive detention for a month.

Han missed home. He missed Leia and he missed his… Four children. He missed Chewie and he missed Luke. He wondered how Rey was doing. Was she alright? Had she survived? Had Ren killed her too?

These people were different. They acted different. They spoke differently. They treated him differently. They tried to make him feel at home, but, it was just… How could any of them possibly understand?

Unknown to Han, one other person in the school had been affected by soul magic and being near someone who'd remembered past lives had caused a change that would otherwise have never occurred.

Ginny Weasley tossed and turned in her sleep, old memories awakening.

"Expecto Patronum!" Han shouted out for what felt like the uptienth time. Since getting out of the Hospital Wing, he'd gone straight to the new Defense teacher. No way in hell would he ever be vulnerable to Dementors ever again.

"Happy thought, Harry. Happiest you can think of." Remus instructed.

Han stopped. "Happy, huh." He muttered to himself. Happy. Happy. Hm. The award ceremony after blowing up the Death Star hadn't worked. Killing Palpatine in what he dubbed the legend portion of his memories where he'd stayed with Leia hadn't worked. Thinking of his kids would remind him of his failure as a father not once, but in two life times. Thinking of his wife would remind him of how he'd separated from her in what he called the Disney verse. Happy thought… Happy…



The one person who'd always stuck by him and that he'd never failed, because as much as he loved Leia, he'd failed her and thinking of her in a world where he couldn't be with her was too painful. His best friend, then, was the next best option.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Somehow, Chewie being his Patronus wasn't all that shocking at all.

Mara Jade Skywalker had lived a hard life. It had its up and downs and ultimately had been the life of a warrior.

She'd been an assassin, had sworn her allegiance a Dark Lord, had tried to kill the man she would later love and marry, and had fought for so long. She'd been a mother and an aunt and it had been wonderful.

But, the darkside… The darkside was insidious. It was a cancer, a living thing, a mutation and a twisted version of the Force that infected and turned those it had consumed into complete monsters.

How else do you explain the nephew she'd loved and held as a child, who'd cried out for his Aunt Mara, who'd held her child with a look of wonder and love at his new cousin, how do you explain someone like that cutting her down while using the Force to make himself look like her son just to get a good slash in?

Yes, the darkside was a twisted thing. Anyone stupid enough to use it would likely wake covered in the blood of people they claimed to love.

Ginny Weasley's eyes snapped open. Han. Han was here. More importantly, she knew who he was. She remembered who she had been. She had to find him, now. So, without hesitation, she sped to find the twins.

That nifty little map of theirs would be the quickest way to find Harry- no, Han. She had to find Han and tell him that he was not alone. She was here. And, if her senses were right, so where Leia and Luke, even if they hadn't remembered anything yet. Fett was around too but he could stay sleeping as far as Mara was concerned.


Chapter Text

A/N: So, more Fudge bashing. I take it to extremes here. I actually don't think there's anyone else who's written a Fudge as stupid as mine. If so, I'd like to know so I can like their stories.

Ron has a freak out. I'm not trying to bash him. I actually like him. However, he's way overdue for a freak out and it happens this chapter. On the bright side, he gets better.


Warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS! There are spoilers for both the Star Wars EU and Episode VII. You've been warned.

Chapter 4

Han Solo, Part 2

While Mara was busy trying to track her new twin brothers in this world, Han was otherwise occupied.

And, by otherwise occupied, he was currently engaged in a vicious duel with both his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and Sirius Black simultaneously.

"Harry, listen to us!" Black pleaded.

"Stop attacking and let's talk this out!"

"The time for talking ended when you nearly shattered Ron's leg, traitor."

That wince was interesting. Huh. So they both felt guilty. Han narrowed his eyes at that. Something wasn't adding up. With that in mind, Han decided to switch to stun mode.

The moment Han Solo's collective memories had awakened within Harry, several things had happened. For one, Harry Potter died. For another, Ginny Weasley began to remember her own past life, or, at the very least, the one that had interacted with Han. Hey, souls are recyclable. You could literally have been anyone in a past life, after all.

A third, more important thing that occurred the moment Han awakened, however, was a change in Harry's magical affinity. For, you see, Wizards have affinities for their magic.

Voldemort, for example, had a high affinity for Necromatic arts. His skill with the Killing Curse was downright horrifying, allowing him to fire it continuously at the age of 16 where most adult wizards collapsed after two. It was how he broke Dementors to his will and forced them to submit to him, what gave him the strength to bind others to him through the dark marks, and what allowed him to raise hundreds of Inferi without batting an eyelash at an effort that would leave most dead from sheer exhaustion. This, on top of his already high magical power, was what had made Voldemort far more feared than Grindelwald ever could have hoped to achieve.

Another example would be Lockhart. Incompetent in all but memory charms. Yet, where his affinity shined, he was unparalleled in his own field. While a bit of mind probing would find the correct answers, even if it left the victim with their minds in ruins, an Obliviation from someone like Lockhart was irreversible, no ifs, ands, or buts.

Harry's affinity, before, had been defensive magic. His skill with defensive magic at such a young age made him a prodigy, whereas everywhere else Harry could be considered average. It was for this reason that, in another life, Harry Potter did not defeat Voldemort through aggression and violence, but through pure defensive magic that twisted his opponents own offense against himself.

Han, however… Han Solo was a soldier, a smuggler, and a fighter. There hadn't been a moment of his life where he hadn't fought, not as a child, not as man, not when he's been a stormtrooper, not when he'd defected for Chewie, or when he'd been a smuggler, or the years after the Galactic Civil war, which he'd lived through twice. Thought it all, Han had fought with one thing rather consistently.


So, when he'd been reborn as Harry Potter, the defensive magical affinity shifted to energy. More specifically, the energy that came from blasters. Pure plasma blasts, designed to either incapacitate, burn, or outright kill. Han could fire them with merely a thought from the tip of his wand, burning all in his path. Gun fights and wand fights, really, weren't so different.

Which is why Remus had walked into the room to find Sirius dodging for his life and holes all over the room.

"The rat! It was the rat!"

Han actually paused at that to give Sirius a look.

"You been hitting the spice lately? Not a healthy habi- Sithspit!" Han cried as his wand was knocked from his hand by an Expelliarmus. Next thing he knew, ropes had shot out and enveloped him, dropping him straight to the floor. Hermione let out a scream before Ron pushed her behind him, standing defensively before her while glowering at Sirius and Remus.

The look was running by the fact that he literally couldn't stand up straight.

"Enough! Ron, hand over the rat and we can sort this all out-" Remus began, already in teacher mode.

"Werewolf!" Hermione shouted. The rest froze. "He's a werewolf! I covered for you! I didn't say anything, I kept silent, and you… You were helping Black the entire time!"

Remus closed his eyes for a moment as he staggered back. It seemed his curse would always follow him. That was to be expected. Still, it wa sneaky to just get this over with and-

"He wasn't with Black from the beginning." Han rolled his eyes while giving Hermione a look. "Otherwise, he'd of taken me out during all those lessons he gave me. Or, hell, he could have ignored me and let me become a Dementor chew toy." Han continued.

Hermione blanched for a second before a look of consideration came on her face.

"Then why are you doing this?" She gave a suspicious look to the Professor. He was an authoritatively figure, after all. As far as Hermione was concerned, that meant he wasn't trustworthy.

How little things like the Minister of Magic being an ungodly prick can change your perspective on thing.

"I-" Remus began.

"Doesn't matter! He's a werewolf! Get away from Harry, werewolf!" Ron snapped.

Normally, Han would glare and Hermione would smack Ron for such a comment. Unfortunately, at the moment, Remus hadn't really painted the best picture for himself, not with him leaving Harry tied up on the floor and with him standing right beside the supposed mass murderer.

The hug with Black earlier definitely hadn't helped.

Peter squirmed. For a second, he thought Potter might actually win. Then, of course, Remus had to show up and ruined everything. He needed to get out of here. He needed to run away, now!

Ron hissed as Scabbers bit his finger, hard. Yelping, he dropped the rat while giving his pet a reproachful look. So not the time.

"Get the rat!" Black shouted.

Scabbers scurried off as Remus shot a spell right at it. As he did so, Snape burst in dramatically… Only to have a very alive and very filthy Peter Pettigrew crash into him.

Snape froze as his dark eyes locked with the man above him. It took merely seconds for his genius mind to work out the reality and, once it sunk in, pure instinctual magic flung Pettigrew back and pinned him to a wall.

Han's jaw dropped. That… That looked like a force blast.

Snape snarled as he rose up, his hand curling in a fist. Pettigrew gasped as his breath drew short. He was… He was being choked. Was this death? This is how he would die, pinned to a wall as a pair of dark eyes locked on his own, his life chocked out of him by a furious fellow Death Eater?

"I find your lack of loyalty… Displeasing. Die, filth." Snape growled.

"Stop!" Han shouted. He was ignored. "We need him alive!" Still ignored. Sithspit. He needed to get loose. Son of a kriff! And what were those two doing, just staring at Snape? Move, dammit!

"Stop it! Let him go!" Hermione shouted.

Her voice, unlike Harry's, actually reached Snape in his haze. Pettigrew flopped to the ground, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he fell into unconsciousness from loss of air.

"Thank you! Now, would someone please untie me?" Han broke the silence.

"He… He slept in my bed!" Ron shuddered.

All the adults, including Han even though he was currently in a teenage body, froze before their gazes turned to the knocked out animagus.

"... Are you sure I can't just kill him?" Snape asked.

"I'm sure."

Ron, Hermione, and Snape could only stare as Harry- no, Han. His name was Han now. They could only stare as Han cursed in several different languages, not a single word of which they understood.

"Son of a kriffing Sith Spawn! The Hutt loving piece of shit!" Han thundered as he paced up and down the infirmary.

Cornelius Fudge had once more proved he existed solely to cover his own ass. Instead of arresting Pettigrew on the spot, the fucker had the audacity to claim that Sirius' 'murder attempt' 12 years ago had instead shattered a time turner Pettigrew had on him, forcing him into the future where it became a contest of who would get to Harry first, Black to kill him or Pettigrew to save him.



"I'm gonna feed that son of a shutta to a goddamn rancor! And when the rancor spits him out because of the shitty taste, I'll toss him into the bloody sarlacc! If that doesn't work, I'll get the Sun Crusher out! Let's see that little kriffin'-" the rest was incomprehensible. Han had switched to some other language they could no longer understand.

"Language, Flyboy. There are kiddies present."

"Mara, shut the kriff up! I'm a grown ass man, I can speak however the hell I want! And only my wife is allowed to call me fly-" Han paused. Slowly, he turned his head towards a smirking Ginny Weasley, arms crossed and a mischievous look in her eyes.

"You aren't the only one who remembered, Kessel Run." Mara couldn't help but take a jab.

Han deadpanned. "Okay, so I messed up with the math, shesh! Let it go already, crap, you're worse than Jaina when she wanted to start dating." Han shuddered. No father should ever have to experience their daughter wanting to start dating. Then, reality caught up to him…

And that's how Han Solo found himself embracing Mara Jade like a lifeline. As fate would have it, she didn't kill on the spot. Lucky him.

"What the bloody hell is going on!"

Mara lightly pushed on Han's shoulder. Red eyed, Han let Mara force him to sit on one of the beds before she turned to look at Ron.

Then, she gave him one long look before she snorted loudly. She looked away for a second before looking back up. A second passed before another laugh escaped Ginny's lips even as she brought her hand to her mouth in a futile effort to stop it. Ron scowled.

"What's wrong? Something on my face?" Huh!"

"No, not that." Mara sighed before looking Ron in the eye. "I remembered my past life."

Ron froze.

Ginny… Ginny…

His sister...

With a roar, Ron rounded on Harry.

"You! This so your fault!"

Han, still in shock from having found someone else who remembered, didn't see the first punch. Or the next. A third didn't land because Ron was pulled off by a frantic Ginny.

"Ron! Stop it! It isn't his fault!"

"Of course it is! And don't talk to me using her voice! You aren't my sister!" Ron snapped.

Ginny flinched before pinning Ron down. Ron gasped as he felt her heel digging into his spine.

"Of course I'm your sister, brat! And you know what else? I still remember all your weak spots!"

Ron, however, just glowered.

"Harry died! That isn't Harry in the bed! Acts nothing like him! You aren't Ginny either! You're just wearing her!"

If it wasn't for the very real pain Mara could feel rolling off her brother, she would have slapped him. He really believed Ginny died when she'd awakened. Maybe if it had been quick, like Harry's had been, Ginny Weasley would have died. However, it had taken the entire year for Mara Jade to awaken in Ginny Weasley, which meant Ginny was still very much alive.

"Ron, stop it!" Hermione shouted, tears streaming down her face.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut it and wake." Mara rolled her eyes and pressed a thumb to his head. Ron gave one last glare before ironically passing out.

"So… If you're Mara, and I'm obviously me, who's Ron?" Han asked.

Mara smirked.

"Chewie. Eats like him to, now that I think about it."

Han stared at her blankly for several seconds. Then, without warning, his head hit the bed as he too passed out. He was seriously getting way too old for this shit.

Ron awoke with a mind searing headache, glancing around in confusion. Trees. He'd dreamed of trees. So many trees. The last thing he remembered before that was… Was… Ginny!

Ron shot out of the bed, looking around desperately, sighing in relief as he caught sight of his sleeping sister next to his bed, along with Harry and Hermione, both who were snoring away. Oddly enough, Cedric Diggory and Neville Longbottom were in the next two beds over. Ron stared long and hard at his sister before laying back down.

She'd knocked him out with a touch to the head. She'd done something else, but he didn't know what.

Ron was a prideful creature. He was a stubborn person. Once he made a choice, he'd usually stick to it, even if he later realized he was wrong. It was this tenacity which would have led him to yelling at Harry in another life for something beyond his control, and that same tenacity which kept him from apologizing the next day when he felt like a shitty friend.

This time, however, was different.

Harry's death had matured him. Okay, so Harry wasn't really dead, but he changed. He changed a lot. Han Solo was different from Harry. He loved to gamble, he swore, had a quick temper and an even sharper tongue, and he seemed to be stuck in flirt mode. He was outgoing as opposed to Harry, who hated attention. However, at the end of the day, it was still Harry. Harry, who was loyal to his friends. Harry, who wasn't the smartest guy around but would always help if he could. Harry, who loved to fly and excelled in Defense. Harry, who was his best friend.

This new Ginny would take some getting used to but hey, he'd gotten used to Harry, so he supposed he'd do the same for his sister.

He'd nearly lost her once. He refuse to lose her again, this time by his own stupidity. It was for that reason that Ron Weasley swallowed his pride for once in his life and decided he'd apologize and accept both Han and… Mara. That was Ginny's new name. She might not be the sister he knew, but he'd learn to love her too.

What Ron didn't know was that Mara had begun his own awakening. It would be slower than hers because Chewie was not only older, but because he had two sets of memories.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had failed.

He'd lost his brother to the darkside and in the end had failed. He had manipulated Anakin's child and purposely tried to get the child to murder his own father. Obi-Wan had lost faith and, truth be told, at one point he'd hoped the two would strike each down.

As far as Obi-Wan was concerned, Anakin died and Vader had killed him. Vader was of the darkside, a mobster that had swallowed his pupil whole.

He'd feared Luke would be the same, so he had avoided him for years until the Force screaming at him to do something had become too much.

So, he'd laid his trap.

He'd purposely tried to break Luke, and hoped that it would fail. Just because he was frightened Luke would break didn't mean he would. In the end, Luke hadn't disappointed. Through Luke, Obi-Wan had been redeemed. Knowing Anakin was at peace, he could finally, at long last, rest.

Which is why awakening in the body of Cedric Diggory left the old Jedi Master disoriented. It became even worse when he could feel Anakin, alive and well but undeniably asleep, echoing across the Force. With a groan, he turned over and fell back asleep.

Obi-Wan wouldn't fully integrate for another year. He didn't wake again.

Neville Longbottom turned in his sleep. Visions of ice and desert and clouds rung through his mind. He hissed as he felt his hand sever, remembered an aged withered face that terrified him more than any other, and the wrath of the Yuzhang Vong as they tore across the galaxy.

More importantly, he remembered… Mara. When she'd died, Luke might as well have followed.

Lost in memories not his own, Neville slept on.

Han couldn't stop staring.

His wife was sleeping on the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room. She'd passed out reading a book and simply slept on.

His wife…

He'd thought he'd lost her forever.

But, her she was.

Han had a second chance.

He thanked whatever higher power made this possible and resolved to make his wife fall in love with him all over again. Hey, no one ever said Han Solo couldn't be a romantic.

She didn't remember him yet, but she would, and he definitely had a lot to make up for. He'd abandoned her in the Disney verse, after all.

With a sigh, Han broke the image of utter perfection before him as he shook her shoulder.

She gave a slight groan and opened her eyes.

"Come on, Princess. Let's get you to bed."

With a yawn, Hermione stood and let Han lead her towards the stairs.

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called out as a third slip of paper blew out of the cup.



For, you see, Pettigrew knew one very crucial fact.

He knew Harry Potter was Han Solo. So, he knew a fresh magical signature would be needed. And so it was that Barty Crouch succeeded in entering Harry into the tournament once more.

Han looked the Krayt Dragon in the eye. The Krayt Dragon looked at Han.

Glancing up at the sky, Han swore.

"Why the hell did that thing have to show up to!"

Rita Skeeter had a field day when she learned Harry Potter had been seen swearing at the sky.

Han sighed as he sat down next to Cedric.

"Any ideas what to do about the water challenge?"

In this life, Cedric had backed Harry, thus preventing the Hufflepuffs from turning on him, which was a relief. The Slytherins had been worse since Snape seemed to have become surprisingly more hostile towards Han, doing everything from rallying students against Han to everything short of outright stalking.

When asked by a fellow teacher for the reason in the increased hatred grudge towards Harry, Snape's lips had thinned, his eyes had glowed briefly, and he'd growled out the word daughter. No one had yet to figure out what he meant.

Under Snape, even several Gryffindor's had turned on Han like the plague. To Han's relief, Ron stayed by his side. To have Chewie, even if Chewie couldn't remember him, against him, would be heartbreaking. It seemed last year had taught the youngest Weasley brother a valuable lesson.

Cedric shrugged.

"The Force is clouded. Anything that helps you breath, really. And talk. To survive the task before you, I foresee a plant in your future which isn't a plant but is a plant that will kill you should you feed on it. Refuse, and you shall die in water."

Han's eye twitched. Every since Mara had performed what she called 'wake up calls' on a few of the Hogwarts alumni, said few had acted oddly. Hermione could turn even more snobbish than a Slytherin Pureblood on command, Ron occasionally growled, Neville had unexpected wisdom.

Cedric… Cedric tended to talk in riddles.

"Forget I asked, geezer." Han snapped.

Cedric blinked as Han walked away. Then, he paled.

"Shite. Am I already getting white hairs? But I didn't have to raise Anakin this time!"

Even Cedric himself had no idea what he'd just said.

As it turned out, Han, Mara, and Chewie were not the only ones to conveniently get reincarnated into the Harry Potter universe, as the reader already knows as it has been blatantly hinted and outright said in this chapter. As it turned out, Obi-Wan, Vader, Luke, and Leia had also been caught in the sweep.

Mara, however, refused to awaken Vader. Bad idea for everyone, she said.

It was for this reason that Neville Longbottom found himself tied to a chair as he glared fiercely at Cedric Diggory, Hermione Granger, and Ginny Weasley.

"Let me go!" Neville, also known as Luke Skywalker, cried out.

Hermione, aka Leia, shook her head. "If we do that, you'll wake up Vader. You might be convinced he went light, but you didn't see him nearly strangle Pettigrew to death." Leia countered her brother's argument.

Luke, in response, rolled his eyes.

"Leia, I'm tempted to choke Pettigrew. And don't even bother denying that you want to do the same. Out of the two of us, you're more like dad than I am." Luke casually pointed out.

Leia, however, was not listening. That argument was so old she wasn't going to bother to listen to it.

"Luke," Obi-Wan KaCedric began, "Vader drowned himself in the darkside. It may be that he was sane the last moment you saw him, however, the darkside is an insidious, twisted thing. It doesn't let go of those it ensnares. If you awaken your father, well… It won't turn out well, I can tell you that."

"You don't know that." Lukeville responded with a glare. "You were wrong before, and I'm sure you're wrong now. I have faith that Anakin Skywalker still lives, even if you've given up hope."

Luke was like a broken record.

Mara sighed, rising to full height. Giving Leia and Obi-wan a look, he pointed to the door.


"What?" Obi-wan responded.

"Out. Let me deal with my husband."

Leia turned slightly green before forcibly dragging Obi-Wan out.

Luke paled as Mara's face contorted in a vicious look he knew well. Crap. He never won an argument when she had that face on. It usually ended up hurting too.

Out of seemingly thin air, a while materialized. Mara snapped it and gave Luke a look. He gulped.

"So, what won't we be doing, sweetie?"

Obi-Wan never learned how Mara had talked Luke out of waking Vader. The Force advised him, however, to never piss of Ginny Weasley.

Cedric had felt a great disturbance in the Force, thus preventing him from grabbing the Triwizard cup. Unfortunately, Han did not fare as well as said warning literally came to Cedric as he was about to touch said cup.

Which is how Han found himself tied to a tombstone and helpless to watch as the Dark Lord was reborn.

Shit, this was worse than the time The Emperor had come back from the dead by using cloned bodies.

"Blood of thy enemy, forcibly taken!" Pettigrew called out, slicing at Han. Han hissed and glared.

"You are so kriffin' dead, Pettigrew."

Pettigrew ignored the boy and smiled as his Master rose again. In another life, Pettigrew returned out of fear. In this life, once he'd achieved his Order of Merlin, he'd found his master and swore himself to the Dark Lord once more. Even Peter didn't know why he'd come back, but he had and now a year's worth of effort had finally paid off.

Voldemort rose from the cauldron, pale and white and looking like the bastard child of a Fallen and a Cathar.

Han didn't bother to hear out what was said. He merely waited for his time. He needed to get lose and he needed to take out as many Death Eaters as he could. Pettigrew might have warned them, so who knows. On the other hand, Cedric was aware Han had been Han-napped, so rescue was possibly on its way.

So, why was it that he found himself dueling Voldemort to the death again?

"Avada Kedavra!"


Han didn't have time to think. He just retaliated with his own blasting curse and hoped they would block one another out.

The two spells collided in an explosion of power. Voldemort recoiled in shock as he was blasted back. The Death Eaters who had been cheering to were knocked back. Only Han remained standing and he didn't waste time.


Screw this shit. Luke could kill this Dark Lord too.

Harry Potter had believed the Ministry would believe him. He'd believed and had faith that the Government actually existed to help you. And, it does.

Just not under Cornelius Fudge.

So, he didn't bother telling him a thing. He just locked eyes with Luke and gave a single nod.

Unknown to all, Han's duel with Voldemort had an unforeseen effect. Voldemort was infused with Han's blood, magic, and reincarnation energy. As such, the magical blast between the two caused an awakening in several people who had been near Han after his own awakening.

Darth Vader's eyes snapped open and a menacing growl escaped his lips.

That filthy smuggler, defiling his daughter! Potter was so dead! And, he had to be nicer to Longbottom, poor boy.

The Weasley twins groaned in their sleep, two separate lives from two different universes pouring into their minds. Jacen Solo and Ben Solo, known as Kylo Ren, had been reborn.

The Patil twins shook in their beds, memories of Rey infecting one and Jaina Solo the other.

Ben Skywalker's eyes snapped open and he let out a long shudder before deciding he'd stick close to Ginny Weasley.

Ahsoka Tano came to a single conclusion. She was so kicking skyguy where it hurt.

Bobby Fett contemplated the murder of Han Solo. That bastard had tossed him into the Sarlacc… While blind! Such an embarrassment would not go unpunished.

Most important and terrifying of all, Dumbledore screamed over and over in his own private chambers, sealed away from the world until, finally, his eyes snapped open as a violent yellow and a wild cackle escaped his lips.

Darth Sidious had been reborn.

A/N: So... Cliffhanger! D:

Hope you all enjoyed! :) Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, favorited, and read this story. It means a lot :)

Chapter Text

A/N: Thank you all for your responses and reviews! I appreciate each one!


Warnings: SPOILERS for any Star Wars media, really. I've got movies, EU, Games… Basic info; the Sith Emperor is a being that basically held the Sith together for thousands of years after they were initially believed to have died out. Also, spoilers for a few for other series as well, including Durarara, maybe a little Naruto and Fairy Tail if you squint, since I didn't make those as blatant if you don't actually know the series.

Reincarnation Cheat Sheet!

Harry Potter: Han Solo

Hermione Granger: Leia Organa Solo

Neville Longbottom: Luke Skywalker

Ron Weasley: Chewbacca

Ginny Weasley: Mara Jade

Cedric Diggory: Obi-Wan Kenobi

Luna Lovegood: Ahsoka Tano

Severus Snape: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader

Percy Weasley: Mace Windu

Fred Weasley: Jacen Solo/Darth Caedus

George Weasley: Ben Solo/Kylo Ren

Parvati Patil: Jaina Solo

Padma Patil: Rey

Collin Creevey: Anakin Solo

Dennis Creevey: Ben Skywalker

Voldemort: Asajj Ventress

Albus Dumbledore: Darth Sidious

Draco Malfoy: Unknown

Unknown: Boba Fett

Chapter 6

Han Solo, Part 3

Albus Dumbledore stood tall and proud, his glare fiery and strong against the adversary that currently faced him.

Not that it mattered much.

Dumbledore tried his best to mask his fear, his terror, his loss of control as he was slowly realizing he was doomed, plain and simple. Even with all his years of experience and higher than average magical power, Dumbledore couldn't for the life of him think of a way out of this mess.

He was fucked, and he totally knew it. Even he, with all his intellect, couldn't think of a way out of this one. He'd already lost the mental tug of war. This wasn't a battle anymore. It was his opponent coming to gloat.

Among the ruined grand library that was Dumbledore's mindscape, he glowered at the Emperor.

Darth Sidious, old and crouched and leaning on his cane, just smiled on, wide and happy with his yellow teeth exposed.

"Who are you?" Dumbledore demanded. Then, with a sweeping motion of his hand, Dumbledore pointed to the several dozen corpses strewn across his mindscape that definitely hadn't been there before. "And who are they?"

Sidious cackled.

"Have you truly not figured it out? Has your interactions with the Potter boy blinded you to reality, Albus Dumbledore? Can you not guess who, what I am, what they are?" Sidious carelessly replied.

Dumbledore was, to put it simply, a Master Manipulator. Ron Weasley may have been a chess prodigy, but Dumbledore could possibly match Sosuke Aizen in the whole manipulating pawns game.

In fact, Aizen's corpse was one of the many in that mindscape.

"These are my past lives, and you… You…" Dumbledore began to pale rapidly as realization after realization struck him.

Palpatine smiled.

"I am you, as are they. Oh, look, another Sith Lord. Hm… Disgusting." Sidious, ever the misogynist, looked down at Darth Traya's battered body with distaste.

Dumbledore had brief flashes as he looked at the bodies around him. He remembered snippets of these lives of his echoing across the stars.

He remembered being General Iroh, and how he had manipulated Zuko for years. He had done it for the greater good, and, in the end, Ozai's war machine fell. He hadn't even tried to save his niece.

He remembered being Kasane Kujiragi, the games she had played, how she had fought with Izaya over control of Ikebukuro.

He remembered Darth Traya, and her acts, and how she had nearly brought the Force itself to its grave.

He remembered his life as Danzo Shimura, the pain he'd caused, the wars he'd fueled, the lives he'd ruined before falling at the hands of one of his pissed off victims.

He remembered his existence as Yen Sid and the battle he'd raged across the stars against Xehanort and his followers.

He remembered his life as Precht, how he'd drowned in the darkness and died at the hands of Zeref for his sins.

In all his lives, Dumbledore had been the manipulator, the one who tainted other's actions and he had usually ended up paying for it with his life. He'd tried to do good in those lives, but, occasionally, as when he was Aizen, he'd become too arrogant, too obsessed with his own power, and became the very monster's he'd sworn he'd end.

Dumbledore's mind came to a single conclusion then and there. Either reincarnation caused souls to be flung across time and space, or the multiverse theory was very, very real and souls could pierce it across different realities.

One thing bothered him, however…

"Aizen was our longest existence. Why, then, is it that you stand before me instead of him?" Dumbledore growled.

Sidious just smiled.

"I am far older than you can possibly know! I refused to fade, even as the ghosts of thousands of Jedi dragged me forcibly into the afterlife! Before that, before this flesh I know wield," Sidious motioned to his own body, "I was known by another name, a name you know well."

Dumbledore began to back away, shaking his head.

"No, no, no. You can't possibly be…"

"I have ruled the Sith for Five Thousand Years! My spirit has echoed for longer than you can even imagine! I am the Sith Emperor! It was I that broke Revan and Malak, it was I who turned the Jedi's so called 'chosen' into my own personal slave, it was I who twisted Ben Solo to the Darkside!"

Dumbledore reeled back.

Memories of his other lives came in snaps. Had they all shot into him, Dumbledore's mind would have shattered. It was already mostly broken if the mindscape was an indication.

One thing that was clear, however, was that Darth Vitiate and Darth Sidious had apparently always been the same being. Dumbledore was powerless against such an ancient and powerful being.

"I grow tired of you. Sleep, Albus Dumbledore, while I use your body to further my ends! The Sith will rule the Galaxy once more!"

Dumbledore tried to fight back.

He failed.

In a last desperate attempt, he left behind an imprint of himself, hidden from Palpatine. Hopefully, it would be enough.

Across time and space, Jedi, present and future, felt an echo of utter darkness resonating from the Unknown Region. Thus, it became known as the Forbidden region, as far as the Jedi were concerned, and they made various efforts to prevent its exploration which last for millennia.

Asajj Ventress could only flare at the mirror.

To be reborn without a nose… And worse, a male!

No mirrors in the Riddle Mansion survived that night.

And odd sight was held within one of the many hidden passageways of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Any who walked in on the scene would blink, rub their eyes, blink again, then proceed to walk away and assume they'd been confunded.

The Weasley twins stood on opposite sides of a room glaring death at one another.

"You killed Dad, also known as Harry!" Fred snapped.

"You killed Aunt Mara! Our little sister!" George snapped right back.

"She didn't even exist in your reality!"

"I'm sure she did! Rey had to come from somewhere!"

"I'm still convinced she's your reality's version of Jaina, which makes her your twin!"

"I wouldn't know! I don't remember anything past Starkiller base!"

"... How convenient."

Both twins paused.

It didn't take much longer for the two fallen sons of Han Solo to begin to scream at one another again. Jacen Solo and Kylo Ren had terribly tempers, after all.

It ended in blows. Kylo got his ass kicked. He'd lost to someone who hadn't even made Padawan, after all, while Jacen had become the most feared Sith Lord since Vader.

Parvati and Padma just stared at echo other.

"So, you kicked your realities version of Jacen's ass?" Parvati asked.

"Totally." Padma nodded.

Parvati smirked and the two high fived.

Jaina Solo and Rey last-name-unknown would get along just fine.

The Creevey brothers also had their own little discussion. Or tried. Dennis was getting glomped.

"You're so cute! I always wanted a little brother! Instead, I had Jaina and Jacen and they were older but now I have a little bro and you users to be my cus but that never happened and now you're tiny and cute and I won't let you go!"

"Let me go, damn it!"

"Nope! I shall hold you, and watch over you, and protect you, and all that shit older siblings do!"

Anakin Solo exasperated Ben Skywalker. After Jacen going insane, though, it was a nice feeling, and he knew he'd do anything to protect his new brother. Even if he was annoying.

Cedric paused as all the rest of the students walked out of the class. Cautiously, he made his way up to the front desk.

Not bothering to glance up, Snape continued with his work.

"Yes? Don't you have a class to attend, Diggory?"


The quill paused.

"I… I failed you. I know that. It was my fault. I wasn't ready for an apprentice so young, and I… I didn't know how to handle you. Headstrong and independent and passionate, I didn't… I don't want to make excuses. I failed and I-"

"You never failed me, Master." Snape interrupted.

Cedric's eyes snapped up. Snape wasn't looking at him. His gaze was locked firmly on the paper he'd been grading.

"I failed you. And I'm not worthy of your presence. I… I'm so sorry, Master." Snape whispered. Only force senses allowed Cedric to hear the words at all as tears spilled down onto the paper below.

"I- there is no redemption for a monster like me, but I just want you to know, that I never once truly believed any of it was ever truly your fault."

"Come now, Anakin. Do not lie to-"


Cedric froze as Snape finally lifted his head. "I always knew that was where you hid. Always. As long as you stayed away, I could ignore you, so I did. But I always knew, Master."

The two old friend just stared at one another.

Then, as one, they both ended in an embrace, tears streaming down both their faces.

Hogwarts students happily piled onto the train. Chattering with his newly reborn friends, Han couldn't be happier. When he'd been reborn, he thought he'd never see any of them again. Fate, however, had different ideas and he couldn't be more grateful. A few things were odd, though.

The Weasley twins kept giving him weird looks, but whatever.

Luna Lovegood had skipped up to the head table kicked Snape in the crotch and walked away without so much as a reprimand.

Dennis Creevey refused to leave Ginny's side and glared death at the Weasley twins anytime they crossed his path.

Come to think of it, the Patil twins were acting really weird too…

Colin Creevey, likewise, had taken to following Han as if he were the only beacon of light in the world.

That, and the Weasley twins and Patil twins had taken to bodyguarding the boy for some reason.

Draco Malfoy had also taken to avoiding Han, which was a plus.

He'd been getting a shit load of headaches, though. He kept getting flashes from what he assumed was an angry Voldemort who seemed to be having gender confusion problems.

Han wasn't concerned. Voldemort's suffering was a plus in his book.

Then, Cedric, Neville, Hermione, Ginny, both sets of twins, everyone other than Han and Ron, really, who remembered their past lives, collapsed and screamed.

Flinching back, Han grabbed his wife who wasn't his wife yet as she collapsed. Wide eyed, he turned frantically to look around at the other unconscious students.

His gaze met with Ron's own wide eyes.

What the hell just happened?

And what in the galaxy could knock out every Force User they had simultaneously? That alone was a very terrifying thought…

Less than an hour later, Han and Ron, who still hadn't fully awakened- Chewie was an entirely different species, after all- stood guard over the rest of their friends, all of whom were locked in a deep sleep.

Two of the teachers were also present in their unconscious condition. Flitwick slept on alongside Snape. Another of the students that Han didn't really know, Cho Chang, was also knocked out cold.

Suddenly, Percy broke into the room. Han spun around and nearly blasted him on the spot before he realized who it was.

Ron sighed in relief.

"Percy. Where are mom and dad?"

Percy, however, didn't listen. Instead, he strode forth and attempted to shove an old shoe into Han's arms. Attempt being the keyword as Han leapt back and fired a shot beneath Percy's feet.

He'd had enough of kriffing portkeys to last a lifetime. Han leveled his wand at Percy's chest.

"You have five kriffing seconds to explain before I blast your brains out, kid."

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, shocked.

Percy, however, waved Ron down, eyes locked with Han's.

"I always knew it would happen. But they didn't believe me. As far as mom and dad are concerned, the sun shines out of Dumbledore's arse." Percy began and Han had a very bad feeling.

"What are you saying?" Han demanded.

"Dumbledore has-"

"'Dumbledore', I fear, is no longer among us."

Han felt a violent shudder pass through his body. Without hesitation, he spun and blasted pure blasts of energy with only one goal in mind.




Ron screamed.

Dumbleperor smiles viciously, batting away each spell without even moving a muscle. The shots merely slides past his body to no effect.

Percy snarled, spinning around and pulling his wand from his robes. To Han's shock, a purple energy beam shot from the damn thing. A wand lightsaber. Now he'd really seen everything.

Palpatine blinked in surprise.

"Master Windu. You've awakened. And you weren't knocked out by my presence. How utterly shocking."

"I watched you destroy the Republic I loved in one lifetime. I refuse to let that happen again, Chancellor." With that, Percy fell into the Vaapad form.

Palpatine just smiled.

"You wish to stop me alone, Master Windu? Here is a clue. I let you win last time. I needed to break Skywalker, and I used you to do so. How does it feel, knowing you were a pawn in the fall of government you so loved?" Palpatine cackled.

Percy roared in rage, much unlike a Jedi, and force jumped at Dumbledore.

Ron fell back in shock.

What the bloody hell!

Dumbledore let out a snarl as a red blade of energy emitted from his own wand. Leaping back, the Headmaster blocked Percy's slash and the two began to slash at each other with spins and ferocity that left the beds around them in tatters.

Han, not to be left out, began to fire, careful to do so only when Percy was facing him. He didn't know who Percy had been in a past life but it was obviously an ally against his worst nightmare, which was good enough for him.

A force blast knocked everyone back as Palpatine let out a hoarse scream. Percy slammed into a wall and choked. He had a moment to look up before there was a sudden pain in his chest. Blinking, Percy slowly lowered his eyes…

With a desperate gasp, Percy fell to his knees. Curling his lip in distaste, Dumbledore kicked the downed body.

Slowly, Ron stood, disoriented. What had just happened? Why was this-

Why was Percy-

And Dumbledore-


Percy was bleeding.

Ron roared. An inhuman growl escaped his lips as he wildly charged at Sidious.

Palpatine spun and blasted the boy with lightning. To his utter shock, the young Weasley shrugged it off and punched him in the chest. Palpatine gave out a gasp as he felt something break, the blow flinging him backwards, knocking several beds over.

"I'll kill you!" Ron thundered.

Sidious, not one to out maneuvered more than once, rose quickly. With a wave of his hand, Ron nearly toppled over as he felt his strength leave him. Revitalized, Palpatine lifted his hand and flicked. Ron slammed into a wall several times. Each time, he just snarled and got back up.

Palpatine grew tired of this. He'd take off that bloody creatures head! Unfortunately for him, the second he ignited his wandsaber he was forced to deflect blasts from Han.

With a snarl, Palpatine decided to end it.

Both Han and Ron fell to their knees as the Emperor assaulted their very minds. The redhead, who had slowly been integrating with a Wookie all year, was harder, but he fell none the less.

"Enough. I tire of these games." Palpatine snapped. "My empire shall be reborn. In order to ensure that, all of you must die! I shall-"

Palpatine was flung back, hard, as Snape stood with his teeth bared and eyes glowing red with the power of the darkside.

Sliding back, Sidious glared.

"Vader. I see you have awakened, traitor."

Ron gasped.

It was then that Han knew Ron remembered.

Striding forward, Snape pulled his wand from his sleeve and a blue blade erupted from the tip.

"My name," he began, "Is Anakin Skywalker. And you will never harm my family ever again! Even that slime smuggler!"

With that, Snape charged. The two wandsabers locked in a shower of sparks.

"Go!" Anakin called. "I'll hold him off! Get out of here, now!"

Not needing to be told twice, Han used the last of his magic to forcibly summon the bodies of everyone else in the room, including a protesting wand and a rapidly bleeding out Percy. The shoe came last and they were gone.

"It will make no difference. They will die. They will die." Palpatine informed his old student.

"It will. Because I'm going to do what I should have done decades ago and destroy the Sith, once and for all!"

With that, Anakin attacked.

Sidious deflected each blow and backed away. With a wave of his hand lighting exploded outwards.

Batting it away with hardly a thought, Anakin let lose a convulsive Force Blast.

Sidious gasped as he was literally blasted through the wall.

Snape charged right in afterwards and Sidious only just managed to get up in order to defend himself.

"I have destroyed entire planets, child! I am the incarnation of the Darkside itself! I-"

"You always talked too bloody much." Anakin cut off as Sidious was forced to dodge pieces of the wall being thrown at him without impunity.

The Dark Lord batted them away with a thought only to get a boot in the face. Flying backwards, Sidious turned and retreated.

Anakin snarled.

"No you don't!"

Sidious dodged to the side as a force blast tore the area he'd once stood in. Leaping up, the Dark Lord landed, spun, and blocked Anakin's next attack. The blades locked as Anakin's eyes glowed gold.

"I will destroy you! I will tear your soul to shreds so you'll never be reborn ever again! I will break you!"

Sidious was strong.

Anakin was stronger, younger, and had literally been born to kill him.

Sidious gasped as his hand was chopped off. With a snarl, a force blast knocked him to the ground as Anakin advanced.

"You're reign ends here, Emperor. I should never have stood in Windu's way. It ends now!"

Anakin moved to finish Sidious off… Only to be forced to turn and deflect a spell shot out by McGonagall. Behind her stood the test of the Professors. Only then did Anakin realize he'd been lead to the Great Hall.

Sidious hadn't ran, the bastard had led him here on purpose!

"What in Merlin's name s going on here!"

"Minerva! I've made a grave error! It seems Severus was never truly on our side. It was he that led Voldemort to the Potters in revenge for what he perceived to be Lily's betrayal!" Dumbledore exclaimed.


Anakin was forced to dodge back as spells were flung at him. With a growl, he deactivated his wandsaber and began to fight back with years of magical dueling experience.

Spinning around, he only just managed to block a lightning blast from Sidious. Only then did he notice the bear forged from earth created by Sprout charging at him. Anakin shattered it and watched in dismay as McGonagall transfigured the pieces into glass and they were tossed at him.

Wandsaber snapping on, Anakin deflected them all.

Unfortunately, even the Chosen One couldn't fight the professors and Sidious at the same time.

A Force Blast had him on his knees and he cursed as his legs were chopped off once more. Anakin knew no more as his head hit the ground.

Albus sighed as he walked forth.

"I believe he was enchanted." He told the other teachers.

"Enchanted!" Minerva gasped.

"By who?" Sprout asked.

"The stars have spoken!" Sybil was ignored.

"I fear I have made a grave error. It appears… It appears Mr. Potter's survival was far too convenient." Dumbledore stayed sadly, tears sprinkling from his eyes.

"Harry! No, not 'im! Surely yer mistaken, Headmaster!" Hagrid cried.

Dumbledore, however, shook his head.

"I'm afraid not, old friend. It appears Mr. Potter never survived at all. Voldemort instead implanted the child's corpse with a shard of his own soul which he awakened only recently. Professor Snape attempted to stop him, however, using the Dark Mark, Potter took control of him to set him on me." Dumbledore calmly explained.

The other teachers fell back in shock. That couldn't be true, could it?

"Are you certain, Albus?" Minerva gasped, gripping at her heart.

"I am afraid so, Minerva." Dumbledore nodded sadly. "I am afraid it is even worse." The other teachers were wide eyed. Worse? What could be worse? "Voldemort has escaped and taken a dozen students with him, including all the Weasley's and numerous alumni from the other houses. I fear what he plans for them and whether he can control them as he did Severus." Dumbledore revealed.

That… That truly was a terrifying prospect.

Rita Skeeter heard it all… And feared for her life. This… This was bigger than her. She needed to inform someone. Then, eyes locked with hers and she knew this was the end.

It was in that moment that Dumbledore gasped and nearly toppled over.

"You-" Sidious snarled and knew no more. The imprint had attacked just as Sidious had detected Skeeter.

Taking the chance, the reporter fled. She had to inform someone, anyone, other than Fudge. Even Rita knew he was useless.

Amelia Bones was sure in for a surprise.

A/N: This arc is almost over. There is only one more chapter planned. Whoo. It really took on a life of its own, huh?

Thanks for reading! :D

Chapter Text

A/N: So, this story has gotten me into reading Star Wars books again. The EU is just plain awesome.

For this chapter, I even read the Dark Empire comics, all of them. I… Was not impressed. I don't recommend them to be honest. The only positive those comics had was that they gave us Anakin Solo. Other than that, I didn't like them, although I'm sure others disagree.

Warnings: Violence. I do like it. Also, SPOILERS, as always.

Reincarnation Cheat Sheet

Albus Dumbledore: Darth Sidious

Barty Crouch Jr.: Boba Fett

Blaise Zabini: Lando Calrissian

Cedric Diggory: Obi-Wan Kenobi

Cho Chang: Siri Tachi

Colin Creevey: Anakin Solo

Dean Thomas: Finn

Dennis Creevey: Ben Skywalker

Dobby: Yoda

Draco Malfoy: Greedo

Filius Flitwick: Qui-Gon Jinn

Fred Weasley: Jacen Solo/Darth Caedus

George Weasley: Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

Ginny Weasley: Mara Jade Skywalker

Harry Potter: Han Solo

Hermione Granger: Leia Organa Solo

Luna Lovegood: Ahsoka Tano

Neville Longbottom: Luke Skywalker

Ron Weasley: Chewbacca

Lavender Brown: Winter

Padma Patil: Rey

Parvati Patil: Jaina Solo

Percy Weasley: Mace Windu

Seamus Finnigan: Wedge Antilles

Severus Snape : Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader

Theodore Nott: Poe Dameron

Voldemort: Asajj Ventress

Chapter 7

Han Solo, Part 4

Han Solo was shaking.

He was scared shitless, really.

Palpatine… The only thing he couldn't find a way to blame the bastard for was the Yuzhang Vong and even that was subjective. Everything else that had gone wrong in either of his lives could be traced back to the Emperor in one way or another. If it wasn't one of his wayward students causing hell, it was the remains of Palpatine's twisted Empire.

And the Emperor had returned.

This… This reminded him of Byss. Hopefully, this wouldn't end with a stalemate like Onderon with only the sacrifice of a Jedi keeping Sidious from possessing one of his children.

With a glance at Neville, Han wondered if Luke would turn again. He doubted it but the suspicion lingered. Luke's fall to the Darkside would forever be etched into his mind, no matter how brief it had been.

"We need to take him out. Fast."

Han jumped.

He'd forgotten Ron was there. His head snapped up.

"You remember?"

Ron's eyes met his.


Followed by a single nod.

And, despite his despair, Han couldn't help but smile. He had Chewie back. That made things almost normal.

A groan could be heard.

Han's eyes snapped up.

"Fred!" He exclaimed.

Han leaped up and went towards his downed friend. Blinking, Fred looked up and met Han's concerned gaze. A beat. Then, Han was flung back, Ron let out a roar, and Fred had stood and was backing up against a wall.

"Stay away!"

Fred was shaking.

He couldn't…

Death has a way of changing you. Being free of darkness does too. Darth Caedus had died seconds before Jacen Solo had but in death that had been enough.

Jacen remembered what he had done and the evils he had committed. He also remembered that in the end, as far as his parents were concerned, Jacen Solo had died with Omini in that final battle that ended the Yuzhang Vong War.


Cautiously, Jacen looked up.

Han and Chewbacca, as he now realized Ron was, we're looking at him with pure unadulterated concern.


If only they knew.

"I- I'm… I'm so sorry, Dad."

Han froze.


I'm sorry.

This was either Jacen or Ren standing before him. One of the two. It couldn't be anyone else. Ron let out a snarl and prepared to move forward, assuming the being before him was the one who took Han from him.

Jacen closed his eyes.

Death by Wookie.

Nothing less than he deserved, he supposed.

What he didn't expect was a hand pushing on his chest and for another to push Ron back. Eyes snapping open, Jacen reeled back in shock as Ginny stood between him and death.

"Enough! We don't have time to fight amongst ourselves!" She snapped, glaring at Ron.

"Aunt Mara."

Slowly, Mara turned. Their eyes met. Several seconds passed. Then, she slapped him. Jacen's head reeled back as the noise echoed through the Weasley household.

Which wasn't a very safe place, now that Han considered it. Shit, they needed to get out, and fast!

The sound seemed to wake everyone else up.

Jacen stood frozen as the others, all Force Sensitive, realized just exactly who he was, what he'd done, what he'd become, the monster-

Mara had gripped him arms and was crying into his shoulder and Jaina was suddenly hugging him and apologizing and Ben was there, surprisingly, muttering about how the old Jacen was back and before Jacen knew it he was practically buried when the rest of the family decided to join in.

Kylo flinched back.


He doubted he'd get such a welcome.

He was proven wrong when an arm reached out for both him and Rey and they found themselves in the family hug too.

Only Flitwick, Luna, Cedric and Cho found themselves left out.

"What in Merlin's name," a voice rung out, "Is going on here?"

Slowly, all heads turned at a bewildered Molly Weasley, who'd spent the morning in a panic when her kids hadn't shown up at the station.


They had a lot of explaining to do.

"You're sure."




"This isn't bullocks?"

"Do you think even I would bullshit this?"

Amelia conceded the point. Turning from Rita, Amelia conjured a Patronus.

"All Aurors, Code Rouge Avatar. Repeat, Code Rouge Avatar. Threat level Morgan. Repeat, threat level Morgan. Report immediately. Hogwarts has been compromised. Dumbledore had been compromised. Report Immediately."

Code Avatar, named after the cases in India where people were known to become possessed by their past lives and exhibited powers. The locals had believed them to be possessed by gods. Rouge Avatar signified when the infringing past life was a threat to everyone around it.

Code Morgan was self explanatory, really. Who else but Morgan le Fey match Merlin himself? In this case, this was downright apocalyptic. Voldemort didn't even qualify as a Code Morgan, but he came damn close. The last time Code Morgan had been announced Adolf Hitler had torn up most of the old magical families in Europe and from what Amelia understood Dumbledore and Grindelwald had actually joined forces temporarily to take him out.

Technically, as Hitler was a Muggle, that should have been a Code Uther for magic Hunter, but the magical community would freak if they learned a Muggle had caused the worse Mage slaughter the world had ever known.

Amelia sighed. This… This was not going to end well. She could feel it.

Darth Sidious contemplated his next actions. He had the staff. They would follow him. He also had Vader. Breaking him would not take long. Still so much hate after so long.

He also had Master Windu.

Darth Sidious would shatter him too.

He could sense several other Force Presences, some awake, some sleeping. What an interesting world this was! That so many of them had been drawn here… Yes, a fascinating planet.

A pity he'd have to destroy it.

The Emperor wanted immortality.

This planet… Rich in the Force like he'd never seen before, yes. With its energies Sidious would create a Wound in the Force that would echo across the cosmos and he would achieve immortality.

The Sith would rule once more!

But first, he had to eliminate the rogue Jedi that had escaped. He needed allies against them.

Closing his eyes, Sidious let his senses expand. Eyes snapping open, he smirked. He now understood.

Those steeped in the Dark Side were the first to recover from his awakening and the echo it left in the Force. Some could be persuaded to join the dark again.

Sidious had the memories of Vitate. And Darth Vitiate had literally broken one of the most powerful Jedi ever born with a glare.

The Death Eaters would also follow him. Ventress could be persuaded to aid him. He could spin a tale of Voldemort being the true Harry and the Death Eaters being free.

Honestly. These people would buy anything he said as proven by their attack on Snape and their utter lack of concern after Sidious had chopped off Snape's legs.

He had a war to prepare.

He could feel it in the Force.

This battle would end… Soon.

With that, Sidious shattered the apparition barriers of Azkaban with ease, the Force fueling Dumbledore's already great strength. Marching in, he batted the Dementors aside without a glance.

He sneered when they kneeled.

Filthy creatures.

Making his way inside, Sidious searched.

His last faithful apprentice would follow him once more.

Darth Sidious' prediction came true rather quickly. Ventress was rather quick to persuade after Sidious promised she could torture Dooku

He'd already met his end of that bargain. Dooku had been ironically reborn as Grindelwald. Helpless, it was child's play to hand him over to Ventress.

Sidious doubted he'd live much longer.

"Albus… Are you sure about this?" Minerva asked, uneasy at the Death Eaters who Albus claimed were reformed. The other teachers twitched. All of them felt uneasy with the Death Eaters there.

Sidious rolled his eyes. Then, with a wave of his hand, he spoke.

"You believe me. The end."

"We believe you. The end." They changed right back.


The wonders of the Force.

Amelia had sent word the ICW. On the off chance they failed, Dumbledore had to be stopped. He held too power to be possessed by a rogue Dark Lord, and a powerful one if Rita's report was to be believed.

They reached the gate of Hogwarts.

Amelia spun and looked at her men, each and every single one of them.

"Show no mercy. Do not hesitate. They are our enemies and the fate of the Wizarding World rests in our hands. Attack without hesitation."

She could already see the hesitation. However, each one nodded. Amelia gave one last look over before turning again.

The Battle for Hogwarts was about to begin.

The chaos that followed could only be described as a massacre.

The Emperor was a known wielder of the Battle Mediation. He was so proficient in it that he had been able to fight Luke Skywalker and direct the Battle of Endor at the same time.

Of course, that was his error. Palpatine paid with his life and the Death Star for splitting his attention so.

With his death, everything went to hell and the Rebels took advantage. Thus, the Empire was defeated rather historically.

This time, however, there were no distractions.

Amelia Bones dodged another curse, snarled, and flung several back.

Minerva McGonagall was a tough opponent.

A spell shattered her leg and Amelia screamed as she fell. Gasping, her gaze met McGonagall's blank stare.

She was being controlled.

Likely, all the teachers were.

It didn't matter because Amelia died then and there.

Dean, Blaise, Seamus, Lavender, and Theodore Nott all stared in horror at the massacre bellow. The Aurors were getting curbstomped. There was no other way to put it.

"We should have left when we had the chance. We're useless here." Lavender realized.

Dean glanced at her.

Nott shook head.

"This is the best chance we have. We have to take out Palpatine. He might not even see us as a threat." He pointed out.

"He won't." Seamus interjected. "The Emperor's weakness is his pride. He won't see us as a threat. In fact, he'll ignore us in favor of the Jedi. That's how Han managed to shoot him in the first place."

How did they know Sidious was Dumbledore, you ask?


Even without the Force, that twisted aura could be felt across the stars. The second Sidious had unleashed it they had known. One look and instinct screamed Palpatine.

It's how Han knew too and why he hadn't hesitated to shoot.

"It's a gamble…" Blaise stated.

"I thought you liked to gamble." Lavender rolled her eyes.

"With these odds? No one likes to gamble. This is worse than Mindor…" Blaise countered.

"Well, you're the leader." Dean spoke up.

Blaise growled.

Okay, so he was the reincarnation of an Alliance General. Still, Seamus had more experience! The fact that they were forcing him to lead was cruel.


As it so happened, Sidious was not expecting five students to barge in.

As such, his concentration broke as he was forced to dodge out of the way of spell fire.

Snarling, he turned to the intruders.

"Interesting. I assumed Solo and the Wookie were alone. I was wrong. Die."

Blaise was blasted back as lightning struck him. That was okay.

Part of the plan.

Sidious was forced to leap as the floor exploded. Snarling, he spun in the air and managed to land on his feet. The floor of Astronomy Tower no longer existed.

Reaching out with the Force, Sidious detected all five.

This would be child's play.

Unfortunately, his concentration had broken… As did his hold on the teachers. In that moment, they turned on the Death Eaters without hesitation.

At the same time, the Jedi that had escaped made their way into the school grounds.

The remaining Aurors stood shocked as several students wielding wandsabers began to cut through the Death Eater lines.

Then, the Dementors fell from the skies in hordes.

Cedric dodged back and brought his wandsaber up to block.

Snarling, Ventress glared.


"Ventress. Love the new look. Plastic surgery working out for you?"

Ventress snarled and pressed her attack.

Leia froze.





Only, it was.

Darth Vader glowered at her.

"The Darkside is the only way, daughter of mine. You will turn or you will die. I-"

Vader was cut off as Anakin Solo, in the small form of Colin Creevey, attacked.

"Stay the hell away from my mom!"

Vader snarled and attacked.

Qui-Gon sighed.

Being reborn Yoda size was not fun. How did he old master do it?

Still, Flitwick was powerful in his own right.


"The only way to defeat Palpatine is through his own teachings. I'm sorry, old friend, but I have no choice."

Windu's eyes glowed with the Darkside.

"Then I'm afraid I don't either."

Qui-Gon was glad he'd taken up Ataru as a hobby.

Sidious lifted his hand as a rocket of all things nearly struck him. With a glare, he turned towards Boba Fett, reborn as Barty Crouch Jr.

"Tired of hiding, Bounty Hunter?"

"We Mandalorians have codes of honor, even those like me." Crouch lifted his arm. "You won't be living past today."

Sidious sneered. Around him laid the broken bodies of his assailants. Dean and Nott seemed determined to hold each other's hands until the end. Seamus was panting. So this is how he'd die. Lavender's only joy was that they'd bought much needed time. Blaise was cursing Han Solo for getting him in this mess in the first place.

Spells rained down.

Sidious deflected them with a wave and pressed his attack. The bounty hunter was good. Against a Sith Lord, however, good was irrelevant.

Han was determined to take out Palpatine. That is, until he had to dodge back a lightwhip.

Light… Whip…

His face blank, Han turned.

Bellatrix Lestrange smiled at him. At her feet laid Luna Lovegood and Dennis Creevey, both who apparently lost.

"You… You're…"

"Lumiya." Bellatrix supplied helpfully.

Han Solo had been an ordinary man. He had no Force powers, he'd lived among those who did, and he'd kicked ass without the need for space Mage powers.

Harry Potter was a wizard and a powerful one at that.

As such, his rage and hate exploded with magical power.

Lumina flinched back.

"What- what is this?"

Han laughed.

"Jedi aren't allowed to hate. Jedi aren't allowed to feel rage. It can twist them. I'm no Jedi lady, and you know what?" Glowing green eyes met Lumiya's. "You took my kriffin son from me. And I really, really hate you."

The blast of pure red energy nearly killed her. Bellatrix screamed and retaliated. She refused to fall to someone who couldn't even feel the Force.

Sidious was getting annoyed.

The house elf sending Force Blasts was not what he needed right now.

"Correct my mistake, I will. Defend Han Solo, I must. Destroy the Sith, I will!"

If it wasn't for the bounty hunter, Yoda would be dead.

A thousand years shoved into the mind of a house elf nearly killed poor Dobby. As it was, Sidious doubted Yoda would survive a week.

As it was, it appeared the old Grand Master intended to go with a bang.

Sidious let the Darkside consume him.

Then, with its power filling him, he let loose a blast of pure darkness. The bounty hunter hit a wall and Yoda leaped away. With a twist of his wrist, Bobba's neck snapped.

Turning, Sidious concentrated on Yoda.

Lumiya simply could not believe it.

This was… This was…

Not possible!

Han Solo was an unstoppable force. He configured missiles from stray stones. He blasted what looked like turbo laser cannons at her that shattered everything around him. His shield charm was unbreakable.

Lumiya was being overwhelmed.

A sudden blast took her arm. She screamed as blood poured from the wound.

Glancing up, she met Solo's gaze.

"You took my son. So, I'm taking your life."

Green lightning arched and Lumiya learned a valuable lesson.

Never mess with a pissed off parent.

The lesson, however, was useless as she dropped dead moment later.

Han swayed and collapsed.

It would take his magical core months to heal from the strain he put it under.

Sidious kicked the dead elf.

Without a weapon and with a time limit, it hadn't been hard once the bounty hunter was gone. Only then did he notice his audience.

Turning, he saw five blades extended towards him.

"Skywalker." Sidious smiled. Glancing at the others, Sidious' smirk only became more pronounced. "You've brought someone who never rejected the dark and a girl untrained to resist it. Foolish, my son."

Luke, having memories of Kylo's massacre, turned in time to block a blow from a now red blade.

"It was I who controlled Ben Solo and had him slaughter you're precious Jedi. And now, I grant him the strength to kill you… With the aid of that girl."

Luke was forced to fight of Rey at the same time. Sith spit. They really hadn't trained her and Sidious seemed to have gained a new affinity for mind control, greater than his old one.

Sidious cackled.

The cackle died as Jacen and Jaina lept at him. Snarling, he entered combat with them both.

Mara Jade closed her eyes as she felt the battle around her.

She caused this.

She began the awakening. And, it had turned into this.

She could feel it in the Force.

Ben was dead. Ahsoka was dead. Anakin was dead and Leia was fighting her own father. And, Leia had turned. The five teens who had attacked Palpatine were dead.

Teachers, students, Wizards, Aurors… She gave a bitter laugh. She didn't want to be alone so she caused this.

Slowly, she made her way towards Han. With a wave, his eyes snapped open.


"Come on, Solo. Let's hope Jacen's plan works. If not… Well, let's hope it works."

Sidious made Omini look like a child. He made the Yuzhang Vong war lol like a happy relief. He made Caedus look like a bitch.

Had it not been for their Force bond, Jacen and Jaina would be long dead. As it was, they coordinated perfectly. That alone kept them alive against the most powerful Sith Master ever born.

"Jaina, my daughter. Are you sure you can trust your brother? He embraced the dark before, and hid it from you oh so well. How are you so sure he hasn't done it again?"

And, he kept doing that.


If Jacen hadn't opened himself completely, Jaina might have bought it. As it was, she ignored Sidious and attacked again.

It was for naught.

With a sudden lurch that left Jacen's head spinning, Jaina was missing an arm. Or maybe it was him. Their bond made it hard to tell.

Jumping back, Jacen realized he'd lost the arm. Oh. Well.

Not the first time, really.

Jacen stabbed forward as the Emperor deflected. Jaina slashed as his knees and the Emperor blocked that too.

Jacen felt Aunt Mara and Han approach. Good. He wasn't sure how much longer he could last.

Suddenly, Uncle Luke joined the attack. Glancing back, Jacen noted that Rey seemed to have freed herself and was attacking Kylo with unending fury. One less thing to worry about.


Jacen turned and dropped his wandsaber. With his now empty hand, he caught a time turner.

Sidious blinked.

"What is the purpose of that?"

"This." Jacen approached his Aunt and father and let the Force flow through him, using the technique he'd used to walk into the past.

Sidious had a moment to be surprised before everything disappeared as Jacen smashed the time turner.

That surprise gave Luke the chance to take off his head. Of that hadn't happened, well… Jacen's act wouldn't have mattered much at all.

With a sudden flash, the found themselves back in time… Just as Mara was about to knock out Ron.

"Stop!" Jacen yelled.

The other Mara froze and turned around. Then, the two Han's and the two Mara's suddenly merged. Jacen smiled.

Then faded away.

Han flew above the Quidditch pitch. It was all he could do, really. So many people he knew were here… Even if they didn't know it.

He'd contemplated killing Dumbledore but had decided against it. Dumbledore was not Sidious.

He'd still never trust him again, though.

He heard more than saw Mara fly up next to him.

With a sigh, he descended to the ground. Both of them touched down.

They stood silent, eyes locked on the moon. A silence Mara eventually broke.

"They aren't gone, you now. Just sleeping. They'll have to stay that way. Once I awoke one… The disturbance it caused in the Force set them all to trigger. There's no telling what else may happen."

Han snorted.

"We just fought Palpatine. What could be worse?"

"Thrawn. That mad Dark Jedi Master he had with him. The Vong. The Killick. Any threat we've ever faced."

Han winced. Yeah. That would be bad.

"But, they aren't gone. They're there. They just don't know us yet. But we can know them."

Han contemplated.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right!"

Grinning, he turned back to the castle.

Blinking, Mara spun.

"Where are you going?"

With a smirk to rival Malfoy, Han twirled and walked backwards.

"Where else? I'm gonna make my wife fall in love with me again. I'm gonna spend time with my kids even if they're now older than me, mostly. I'm going to bother Luke and poke Lando and all that shit. Coming?"

With a grin of her own, Mara followed.

A/N: Okay! Some of you may hate this ending. However, things got messy at the end. Crossing so much of Star Wars into HP verse was admittedly a mistake. They basically took over to the point were it because a Hogwarts!AU of Star Wars, which was not my intention at the beginning but whatever.

In other news, there is a spin off for this fic! Harry isn't Han in that one since he was Han here, but it will be Star Wars and will have some of the same elements! I say some since I don't want to just rehash the same story again.

Anyways, thanks for reading!

Good night.

Chapter Text

A/N: So, I've decided that instead of writing this series with each part for the character in order, I'm going to mix things up. It helps because this lets me write literally whatever happens to pop into my head. This chapter, for example, popped up this morning.

Enjoy :)

Published: 9/1/2016

Warnings: The Last Olympian spoilers.

Reincarnation Poll as of 9/2/2016

1st Place: Percy Jackson

2nd: Bleach

3rd: Devil May Cry and Deadpool

4th: Assassin's Creed, Buffy/Angel, Charmed, Doctor Who, Fullmetal Alchemist, Kingdom Hearts, Pokemon, Supernatural, Mortal Kombat

5th: Avengers, Danny Phantom, Final Fantasy X, X-Men Movieverse, Young Justice Cartoon, Teen Titans Cartoon, Kim Possible

6th: Several

7th: Several

8th: All with no votes

Total Voters: 25. Max votes per voter: 5

Note: Poll posted on Fanfiction.Net. Same account name

Chapter 9

Luke Castellan, Part 1

Luke Castellan was not happy.

No, he wasn't happy, at all.

He remembered just how he had managed to get himself into this mess. Well, part of it. It was still bits and pieces. Shards here and there that Luke, if he focused, could just barely feel flowing around him.

He remembered Hades, glaring down upon him.

He remembered his father, Hermes, off to the side, pleading with the Lord of the Underworld. Hmph. What good had that useless fool ever done for him?

Then, Luke remembered the river.

It is said that those that dip in the River Lethe lose all sense of self, all memories, washed clean, created anew, with all that they once were fading into nothingness, into the everlasting eternity of timelessness.

Normally, this would be true.

However, in Luke's case, well…

Luke shouldn't even be, much less remember. He still wasn't sure what the strange son of a Scythian Dracaena had done to him, but it had resulted in his current situation.


Luke snarled, Demigod instincts ingrained into his very core flaring. Swiftly, he dodged a blow aimed at his head. Without thinking, the child spun around, snapped out a kick towards his uncle's leg, before Luke jumped up, grabbed the fat bastard around the throat, and a tiny knee impaled itself into Vernon Dursley's face.


Luke was sure that was the sound of glass breaking. At the moment, he didn't care.

Vernon let out a shout as Luke leapt off his face. Luke spun in the air before sliding back on the ground. Crouching, the four year old boy glared.

Vernon shuddered slightly, gripping at his face as blood escaped from his nose. Slowly, the older man locked eyes with his nephew. Before Luke's very eyes, the face began to change color. Red, purple, you name it, Uncle Vernon became it. Luke wondered for a second if his Uncle had eaten one too many grapes and it was now affecting his skin tone. Then, Vernon swelled up like a Puffer-fish, and Luke knew what was happening next.

Without batting an eyelash, the child took two fingers and shoved them in his ears, for all the good it would do him. Which is to say, probably not much but better than nothing.


"Vernon! We need the boy!"

Vernon rounded on her as well. Luke was half convinced the man was going to throttle his wife. Now, Luke didn't care much for his Aunt Petunia, so… He'd probably just watch, actually. Nothing these people did would surprise him anymore.


Hades must be having a laugh.

Luke, being reincarnated to loving parents, only for them to die and for him to ultimately be raised by a man that made Zeus look like a nice Uncle.

Thunder inexplicably shook the house, despite no storms. Luke raised a single eyebrow. Zeus could hear him all the way here in Britain? Then again, this was a God he was talking about.

Vernon twitched for several seconds. However, he didn't swing, as Luke had predicted. Instead, he rounded back on Luke.


Luke casually waved his hand and summoned fire. What? He was cold.

Vernon jumped, alarmed. Petunia screeched. Dudley shouted for them to shut up so he could watch the Telly.

Luke blinked before lifting his hand, examining it in detail while ignoring his relatives who both flinched back in fear.

"Huh. That still works. Fascinating."

Then, with a grin, the four year old smiled up at his so called guardians.

"You know, Annabeth ran away at 8. Think I can manage at 4?"

Luke didn't give them a chance to answer. With a snap of his fingers, the Mist twisted about. Vernon and Petunia's eyes both gained a hazy hue, and Luke? Luke was long gone.

The Ministry of Magic.

Luke did not know who these people where.

He did not know what they wanted with him.

And, he seriously wanted to know how they were so Mist resistant. Luke was no sorcerer. He couldn't conjure complex illusions that actually affected reality around him. He could, however, influence the minds of mortals since the Mist was designed for that purpose, to keep the world of the Gods hidden from mankind.

These… Strange men in robes, however, seemed to shrug off Luke's best attempts to enchant them.

On the bright side…

"Got you know, little bugger!"

Luke turned. He'd been cornered in an alleyway. Years of running had led to this particular moment being a frequent repeat. As such, Luke shoved a finger in his nose and ignored the man.

The wizard- Luke was sure they called themselves wizards- twitched.

"Now, you'll be comin' with me, you ruddy little- Oiy, where's my-!" the man began to pat himself down. He could have sworn his wand was in his pocket just a minute ago!

"Oh, you mean this?"

The man's eyes shot up. To his shock, Luke was casually twirling a stick in his hand. Without much thought, Luke smiled up at the Auror- not that Luke knew this was an Auror, mind you- and snapped said wand with a casual flex of his fingers.

The wizard growled.

"Why, you little-"

"Would you stop calling me little?"

With that, Luke sprung into action. When the other Auror's came along, it was to find their companion in a heap with several broken bones, dizzy, and disoriented with his shattered wand tossed all across the alleyway.

Luke sighed. This was harder than he thought. He'd been running for years, but there never seemed to be an end to these people. There had to be some solution, some way.

Luke blinked.

Wait, why was he running?

These people were obviously magical. Luke somehow had his Demigod powers still intact, and something else he could feel echoing at his core. Perhaps… Perhaps those that hunted him knew more of this mysterious power.

On the other hand…

It was ridiculously easy for Luke to get his hand on those sticks they kept waving at him. He'd lost count of how many he'd shattered. In their defense, Luke Castellan had once walked into Olympus, made his way into Zeus Throne Room, danced for a bit on the Sky God's Throne which in hindsight had been pretty suicidal before running off with the Master Bolt, the Olympians none the wiser.

Well, all but one.

Hestia, however, had done nothing. The look of disappointment the Goddess had given Luke, however, would remain etched into his memory, forever. Luke sometimes wondered why Hestia had said nothing. Had she known how it would all end? That was one Immortal Luke had never been able to understand.

Compared to stealing the Master Bolt, getting wands was childsplay.

Still, Luke realized rather quickly, the only way to survive in this mysterious new world Hades had so graciously dumped him in, he would have to understand said world.

"Is that him?"

"Can't be, he's been missing for years!"

"But he has the scar!"

"What? Where? Lemme see!"

Luke had always liked making entrances. He had a certain flair for dramatics. Of course, striking from the shadows was also fun, but only if you got to see the look of betrayal in someone's eyes.

That day, when Percy had looked up at him, horrified and in realization of what Luke had done, what Luke was doing, what Luke had begun… It had been such a relief. Being himself after conforming for so long had been euphoric!

As such, Luke wasn't going to bother hiding in the Wizarding World.

He was, after all, annoyingly already famous.

With a smile and a casual wave, Luke had his way towards the staff table. There, Dumbledore stood rapidly and a few of the other first years parted.

Luke made careful care not to glance in the way of a certain Professor. Dumbledore was no fool. Any mistake here could cost Luke. He had to play his cards right.

That was okay.

He was the son of the Trickster God.

He was used to playing deceptions.

"Harry Potter?"

"The one and only," Luke smiled.

"How did you find this castle? You've been missing, my boy, for the past seven years," Dumbledore's curiosity got the best of him. Then, he remembered where they were, and amended his statement, "You will be seeing me after the sorting, young man. You must understand, running away from home is never a good thing."

Luke gave Dumbledore a look.

"What makes you think I haven't found a new home since then? Besides, that place was never home," with that, Luke turned away.

Dumbledore winced as he felt wards he had struggled to uphold shatter. No matter. Albus Dumbledore had a backup plan. Albus Dumbledore always had a backup plan. He glanced at McGonagall. "Commence the sorting."

Luke patiently waited for his turn, ignoring the stares aimed in his direction. Well, stares and a couple of glares. The Professor that looked like he'd dipped his hair in fry grease seemed determined to kill Luke with his eyes. Considering these people had magic different from anything Luke had ever seen, that might just actually be possible.

"Potter, Harry!"

It took Luke a few seconds to remember that was suppose to be him. He could literally count the amount of times he'd been called by that name in this new life on his hand. Without a second thought, he made his way forth and allowed the hat to be placed on his head.

It screamed.

Luke jumped at the noise, not expecting it at all. However, as Luke heard no disturbances in the Hall, he assumed the scream was just in his head. Small blessings. Stupid hat.

"You… How are you still sane? How have you maintained your sense of individuality?

Luke glared. It wasn't very effective from inside the darkness of the hat.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"You… You actually won a mental battle with something that ancient… Even if only for a moment, you managed to overcome a Titan through sheer force of will… How were you not destroyed?"

"Just sort me already!" Luke snapped.

Ah. The Hall reacted to that one.

"Why… Why would you… Oh. Oh, I see. That's why. I had thought Slytherin would suit you, but no. There is only one house you belong in. Fascinating."

"What are you talking about you ancient old rel-" Luke began.


Luke, stunned, didn't even notice when the hat was taken off his head, or the thunderous applause that came from the Table decorated in gold. Only McGonagall's hand on his back caused him to return to the real world. Smiling up at her, Luke jumped down from the stool and made his way to his new house.

He'd expected Slytherin. Still, Luke could work with this. Yes. He could make this work.

The meeting with Dumbledore had been… Well, weird.

"Where have you been all this time, Mr. Potter? We have been searching for you, you know, for a very long time.

Dumbledore was annoyed. Very annoyed. Why?

Pomona Sprout had always insisted that she be present when any of her students were called to his office. This had been a tradition the woman had practiced for years, ever since she became the Head of Hufflepuff. Of all the Heads of Houses, perhaps only Severus was the only one who was more hands on with his students. Filius ignored them unless it affected their Academics and Minerva was busy with other duties half the time.

As it was, the heads of Hufflepuff and Slytherin were often close, despite what most would assume.

Annoyingly, Pomona had managed something even Dumbledore would have not predicted.

Snape glared.

How that woman convinced Severus to come down here for Harry Potter of all people, Dumbledore would never know.

"Away," Luke shrugged.

Luke was seriously convinced Professor Snape would actually kill him with that glare. Or, at the very least, light him on fire.

"Answer the question, boy!" Snape snapped.

Luke lifted his eyes. Black eyes dug into his. Silently, Luke wondered if another child of Hades had escaped Zeus' wrath. That, or a child of Nix. Yikes. Still, Luke met the glare full force.

He'd led a rebellion against Gods. A mortal didn't frighten him in the least.

"Now, Severus, I'm sure young Harry here has a good explanation, stop that." Pomona interjected.

"Yeah, totally." Luke agreed.

"See, Severus!" Pomona smiled. Then, she turned to young Harry, "Can you please tell me where you've been, dear?" she smiled at Luke. For a second, Luke could have sworn he was standing before Hestia again. If it wasn't for the fact that Hestia was one of the Virgin Goddesses, he might have actually been convinced he'd somehow come across one of Hestia's wayward children.

Luke fidgeted.

"I ran away because I didn't like the cupboard they kept shoving me into."

Severus froze. No, impossible. The boy had to be lying, there was no way- but… Perunia. Still, her memories had been tampered with to the point where she didn't even remember having a nephew. The woman he remembered was vindictive, but to do that to a child?

Pomona, on the other hand…

A trembling hand landed on Luke's shoulder. Slowly, he looked up. Pomona smiled at him calmly.

"Harry, dear, you can go back to your dormitory. I'll speak with you later, alright?"

"Okay!" Luke nodded, jumped up, and turned.

"Now, hold on one second, we are not done here!" Dumbledore stood.

Pomona turned her smile on him. The Headmaster shuddered. The last time Pomona Sprout had smiled at him like that…

"I think it would be best if we discuss things without Mr. Potter present, Headmaster."

"Agreed." Snape quipped.

Luke made his way out of the Headmaster's office. He could have sworn he heard an explosion, but perhaps that was just his imagination. Either way, the smile faded to calculation.

This world…

Luke knew it well.

He had spent the last few years learning all its dark secrets.

He was not pleased. Not pleased at all.

And, the thing about Luke Castellan?

He was a rebel, through and through. Inciting another revolution would be fun. And, hey, this time he wouldn't be stupid enough to make an alliance with basically Satan to do it. Luke was going to change he Wizarding World, for better or for worse.

A/N: Now, why I decided to make Luke a Hufflepuff. At first, it seemed Slytherin, no brainier. Luke is a manipulative individual who plots from the very beginning. Ambition is what drives him.

But, then I remembered, Luke is a contrast to Percy. He's basically Percy if Percy had gone dark. Luke is loyal. Luke is kind. Luke feels the Gods have betrayed him, and his loyalty towards them breaks so he turns on them. In the end, his loyalty to Annabeth is what takes out Kronos. He's not so much evil as an antihero who thought he was picking the lesser evil but ended up picking the wrong side.

Ultimately, what he wanted was a better life for the campers and for the rejected Gods. He just went about it the wrong way. His loyalty, however, is what his actions are ultimately based off so I made him into a Hufflepuff instead of a Slytherin.

Chapter Text


Published: 9/9/2016

Warnings: None for this chapter

Chapter 11

Luke Castellan Part 2

Luke Castellan's time at Hogwarts was spent forging alliances.

To the people of Hufflepuff and, indeed, the school, Harry was a cheerful friendly boy that always stuck out for the people he cared for. However, the Pureblood's of the school did not like Potter. That's not to say all the Purebloods, just those that were used to the old ways.

The thing was, Harry Potter always, always, would go out of his way to help the Muggleborns. Luke wanted to start a revolution. To start a revolution, you need followers. You need people who will stand by your side. You need to reach out to those that are oppressed, to those that need a helping hand, to those that look at the world and know it doesn't treat them fairly and want a better life than that.

Casually, Luke glanced up towards the Staff table. As always, Professor Dumbledore met his eyes. As always, Luke pushed the old man out of his head- Luke had bested Kronos. Dumbledore, hell, Snape, compared to that, was nothing. However, simply shoving the Headmaster out of his head was a no no. Luke wasn't stupid.

Instead, he smiled at the Professor, titled his head, and adopted a confused expression, all the while enjoying the growing anger in Dumbledore's eyes. Most wouldn't be able to tell, but Luke had spent years predicting how others would react based on physical behavior alone.

How else would he have known which campers were most likely to swear their allegiance to Kronos, afterall?

Luke looked away, contemplating.

Already, he had gathered followers.

Even as a child, he had not sat idly by. Instead, Luke had run about the country, finding communities of those rejected by the Wizards in their society. The elves, the dwarves, a vampire coven, a werewolf pack. And, of course, there was another, someone currently in this school, someone who was currently a teacher.

Luke hid a smirk. He would turn this world upside down.

Those that look down upon others, those that belittle the existence of their fellow magicals because of semantics like lineage and magic type… Luke would not forgive it. Luke could not forgive it. He refused.

Severus Snape did not know what to think of the boy.

He had expected James Potter reborn. The arrogance Potter had shown on his first day had almost but confirmed it. But, instead, he had gotten something else instead.

He had attempted to rile the boy, make him go wild, make him anger. He wanted confirmation of his preconceived notions. What he had gotten… Potter had looked Snape in the eye, tilted his head, and asked who had damaged him.



Severus Snape, the head of Sytherin, damaged? Damaged? Than annoying infuriating devil's spawn! Snape had given him detention on the spot. Unfortunately, word of Potter's actions had spread, and, well…

"Here you go Professor," with that, a potted flower was left on Snape's desk before Neville Longbottom ran as fast as his pudgy legs would carry him. Snape twitched. He twitched even more when he realized a lily had been left on his desk. It was always lilies! There could only be one cause, there could only be one source, a source he dare not attack.

Severus Snape had feared four things in his life. He had feared Lily Evans, he had feared the wrath of Voldemort, he had feared whatever plots Dumbledore concocted, but last but not least… He feared Pomona Sprout. Snape had heard rumors that the Hufflepuff House had for generations transfigured their foes into the soil they used for their greenhouse. Snape did not know if this was true or not, and, to be blunt, he didn't want to find out.

Luke casually leaned against the magic mirror. He had gazed into it out of curiosity earlier, but he didn't find anything that shocked him. Something impossible, something gone, something he could never have again, but nothing impossible.

Thalia, at his side. Annabeth, small and adorable and small and looking up at him with admiration. Luke himself had an arm wrapped around Thalia's shoulders. For some reason, Percy Jackson was there, except there was no rage in his eyes. Instead, he was smiling. Alabaster was smiling. Silena was smiling. Chris was smiling.

It… It was everything that would have been, Luke realized, if he had never chosen to side with Kronos. Luke was glad. It reminded him of his purpose. It reminded him of why he was here. It reminded him of what he needed to do.

"Hello, Professor."

"My, my. Potter. Isn't this a surprise. You've been expecting me?"

Luke glanced up. At last.

"Of course, Professor Quirrell. I've known for a while, actually. All I don't know is the why." Luke gave a shrug as Quirrell eyed him condescendingly. Luke resisted the urge to smirk. "Are they not paying you enough in this backwards excuse for a magic school?" Luke asked as he pushed himself off the mirror and took a step forward.

"Payment? Wherever did you get the impression money was involved, my dear boy?"

"Hm? Oh, this?" Luke waved the Philosopher's stone around. Luke couldn't help the smirk that left his lips when he felt the stone tug. Quirrell snarled and Luke was forced to dodge out of the way of a flash of light. With a twirl of his hands, the stone was gone and Luke leapt into action.

Luke was a son of Hermes, whether he liked it or not. He was not gifted with the same gifts other Demigods had. Hermes was a trickster. He was a thief. He was a being who was quick on his feet. Luke could conjure illusions and it seemed he still could create objects with but a thought like he could when Kronos had been… Preparing his body. Luke couldn't blast his opponent with the elements, he had to be crafty.

However, there was one ability, just one, that Luke was grateful to his father for. Surprisingly, it still worked in the castle. Honestly. Albus Dumbledore so needed to upgrade the ward system here, it wasn't even funny.

Quirrell blinked as Potter vanished.

"Behind you, fool!"

Quirrell spun. Luke's foot crashed into the Defense teacher's face. Quirrell gasped before waving his wand. Luke dodged rapidly as curses were flung his way before producing his own wand. Quirrell could only laugh as he batted aside weak first year level spells.

Luke had no affinity for magic, after all.

However, he did have an affinity for something else.

"What," Luke began, "Is that thing growing out of the back of your head?"

Quirrell gasped. How- how had that brat stolen his turban? The Defense teacher turned, snarling. Luke smiled innocently at him, purple headpiece in hand, blinking at- was that a face? Blinking at the face that he had seen growing out of his teacher's head.

It did not take Luke long to put two and two together.

This was it.

This was the moment of truth.

This was the time to chose.

That could only be one person, which meant… Luke glanced at the mirror. Thalia smiled at him before she turned to his counterpart and their lips meant. Luke closed his eyes. He… He wouldn't repeat that. Never. Never again would he throw everything away like he had the first-

"Foolish brat!"

Luke's body froze. Suddenly, he felt himself topple over. Shit. He'd forgotten Quirrell because of that stupid mirror!

"Let me speak to him."

"But, Master-"

"Do not question me, Quirrell! Allow me to speak to him!"

Quirrell sighed and turned. With a wave of his hand, Voldemort have Luke control of his head- and only his head. Another wave and Luke found himself floating.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort began, "See what I have become? What I must do to survive? Look at my existence, Potter. What do you see?"

Luke glanced the dark lord up and down. There really was only one conclusion. Luke had known for a while that Immortals retained their Immortality because their were multiple versions of them. They could be everywhere at once. Very rarely was a god ever in just one place. In order to challenge Olympus, Kronos had done something insane. He had concentrated most of his being in a single location, inside Luke. That had been his downfall.

Looking Voldemort up and down, Luke could only come to one conclusion. He really hoped he was wrong. Luke truly did. Because, if he was right, well then… This whole issue was way more complicated than what he already believed it to be.

"You've shattered yourself. Tell me, how many other Voldemort's walk this earth?"

Voldemort was visibly startled. Then, the Dark Lord began to shake. Luke wondered if this was how he would die. Hmph. What a wonderful second go at life, death at the age of 11.

Then, Voldemort did something Luke had not expected.

He smiled.

"Yes, you would know about that, wouldn't you, child of Hermes." Luke gasped. What? No, seriously, what? Voldemort lifted his- Quirrell's- arm. "I shall give you a choice, Demigod. Join me. Together, we can change this twisted world. Isn't that what you want? Is it not what you have always wanted? Join me! Together, we can change it all!"

Luke closed his eyes.

Change it all.

Make a life better for those that had been tossed aside.

Revenge on those that had wronged him, that had wronged the world, that had wronged everything around him.

Luke had been angry. He had been hateful. He had been furious.



He had been in pain.

Luke glanced at the mirror. This time, Annabeth smiled at him, small and tiny and clinging to his side. His little sister. His precious little sister. His family.

Never again. Looking at her, Luke knew. Never again could he chose the lesser of two evils.

Luke turned to stare at Voldemort. This one was just as broken as he was, Luke realized. What kind of person decides to split their own soul? Luke hadn't been sure at first, but Voldemort had all but confirmed it. He'd split his mind, his consciousness, his very being, just like the gods. And, like the gods, Luke realized, it had led to the same fallacy they had.

Voldemort was very much insane, Luke realized. He wondered if the Dark Lord could feel anything at all. He wondered what emotions he had tossed aside.

"I'd rather die. Again."

Voldemort frowned.

"A shame, my child. A shame. So be it." Voldemort lifted Quirrell's wand. Luke smiled. Voldemort did not see it coming. One second, Harry Potter was bound before him. The next, Quirrell's head was rolling on the floor, Luke was panting, gripping at his chest, eyes wide with terror.

That… That power… That power he had just…

Luke shook his head. No. He must have broken the petrification spell. It was perfectly possibly. Children of Hermes were always difficult to chain. Luke made his escape, never noticing the wraith of the Dark Lord escaping. Even if he had, it wouldn't have mattered.

As far as Luke was concerned, Voldemort had made literal copies of himself. He had no idea that the reality was far simpler.

"Get away from him!" Luke snapped.

The snake curled up on itself, looking at him like a child that just got chasted. Then, the snake hissed at him before turning back towards Justin. Luke rolled his eyes, lifted his wand, and blasted the area before the snake. The snake jumped before looking back towards him.

"I said, enough. I know you understand me."

The snake glared.

"Let me bite just one! These wretched humans summon me and my kind all the time! What of my precious eggs? The sooner I get this over with, the better."

Luke blinked. Then, he turned to look at Malfoy who was staring at him with wide eyes and jaw dropped. Luke rolled his eyes. "Yes, I can speak to- what's your name, dear?"


"Natalia here. Least it isn't Martha," Luke whispered to himself. "She says she wants you and your Slytherin friends to stop summoning her and that she has eggs to take care of. Also, she hates humans and- what was that, Natalia?"

"I smell a rat. But it smells like a man. Odd."

Luke blinked.

"That's nice, dear. Do you want me to send it back now, Natalia?

"Yes, please! You're much nicer than that other boy who could speak to us."

Luke froze.

"Other boy?"

"Ah, yes. I forget his name. Dark hair. Pale complexion. He's around here somewhere. I smell him still. Goodbye!"

With that, Natalia seemingly poofed herself out of existence. Huh. Interesting. Luke had no idea conjured animals could do that. Or, apparently, as Natalia had informed him, summoned creatures.

Luke glanced around, seeing wide eyed stares.

"What? I just spoke to the snake. If you think that's weird, I once knew a kid who could speak to horses and another who could speak to… All animals actually." Luke tiled his head. Grover could speak to all animals, correct? Not that Luke cared much for Grover. That one and his failures were the source of all of Luke's woes. Honestly, they should have just left him to die.

"That's- that's- that's a Slytherin trait!" Malfoy declared, pointing wildly.

"Maybe he's the heir!"

"A Hufflepuff, the Heir of Slytherin? Come off it!"

"Maybe it's just a ruse! Maybe he infiltrated from within!"

"But he's friend's with Muggleborns!"

"Duh, so he can gain their trust before, bam!"

Luke twitched.

"I assume Godric Gryffindor was a lion charmer which would probably mean he was best friends with the Romans, Helga Hufflepuff learned Earthbending from badgers, and Rowena Ravenclaw spoke to birds, hummed, and danced with woodland animals." Luke deadpanned.

Several people stared.

"No! That didn't happen!"

Luke gave the kid a look.

"Were you there? For all you know, it totally happened." and, with that, Luke spun and left. He couldn't be bothered with idiots who thought him the Heir of Slytherin for being able to speak to snakes. So could everyone else in the Hermes cabin, after all.

Luke eyed the diary in his hands wearily. So… This was how Voldemort had done it. He had to admit. This… This was not what he was expecting. On the other hand, Voldemort was no god. He was a human, and as such bound by mortal laws.

Still, this was a good sign.


Luke wondered, could he restore Voldemort? This insane version of him was a threat. A Voldemort on his side, though… Luke considered. Yes. With that, Luke could change this world.

With a wave of his hand, the diary vanished just like the Philosopher's Stone had. Luke prepared himself for whatever came next.

The school was relieved when the attacks randomly stopped.

Luke was not.

He was proven right when the Basilisk- which turned out to be a bloody Drakon, shattered it's way out of the girl's bathroom and into the Grand Hall. He really wished he had Clarisse as back up. Wait, no. Luke took that back. Clarisse would likely kill him first before fighting the Drakon. On the bright side, this one was smaller than the one he had literally set on New York during the Battle of Manhattan.

Time to prove himself a hero. What a way to make a name for himself, right?

"Students! Beneath the tables, do not look at- HARRY POTTER!"

A few students dared to look up. What they saw shocked them. A twelve year old boy hissing and snarling at a snake while swinging a sword was an odd sight indeed.

The Basilisk turned towards Luke and smiled at him. It's smile faded when instead of dying like all others who gazed into her eyes, Luke grinned and fell upon her. The Basilisk hissed as Luke's Celestial Bronze blade- and he truly did wonder how it got into his vault at Gringotts in the first place- slashed down upon it's belly. Luke dodged back as the Basilisk attempted to smash him with it's head.

"What are you? Why will you not die!"

Luke grinned up at the beast.

"Half Immortal. Has perks, you know."

Luke was a Demigod. Demigods are built for battle. It's ingrained into their DNA. A Demigod is stronger, faster, and a quicker thinker than any normal human. Demigods many times have gifts inherited from their bloodline. As much as Luke didn't like it, he had gifts from Hermes. Luke was a master thief. He was a mischief maker. And, most importantly… Luke Castellan could actively teleport himself.

Even the barriers of Camp Half Blood had failed against him. Okay, so Luke was being aided by Kronos at the time, but semantics. Luke was a powerful Demigod. He always had been. How else could he have even be considered a host for a Titan Lord?

It was these instincts, these skills as a Demigod, that enabled Luke to dodge out of the way. The Basilisk knocked over one of the tables. Luke snarled. This wasn't turning out well. Someone would end up dead unless… Unless…

Suddenly, an arch of pure lighting blasted through the hall. Luke could not help but flinch back as a blast even Thalia would have failed to produce struck the Basilisk. He had intended to teleport himself and the Basilisk- something Luke didn't exactly think possible since his version of teleportation didn't really take him far, it was more about making quick getaways than travel- and the head exploded in a shower of guts. Slowly, Luke turned.

Albus Dumbledore was marching down the center of the Hall, eyes lit with utter fury.

At last, Luke understood. This was Albus Dumbledore. This was the only wizard Tom Riddle had ever feared. This was a man that even Percy Jackson would struggle to defeat in combat.

"Harry Potter, what in Merlin's name-" Dumbledore began.

Luke snapped his fingers.

"Was never here, everyone." then, Luke grinned and ran. He'd been practicing with the Mist and had learned he could actually ensnare students with it.

Dumbledore blinked as Luke made his way towards his fellow Hufflepuffs. Just what was that boy thinking? Dumbledore was about to give him a piece of his mind when he noticed that literally no one but he had noticed anything amiss. Dumbledore narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

Unknown to Luke, the art of Occlumency was a powerful one. The Aurors he had faced had shrugged off the Mist's effects because all of them were required to learn it. As it was, Dumbledore was not even mildly phased by the Mist like those Auror's had been- Dumbledore had seen through it all. With a glance, Dumbledore noticed one other person unaffected- Severus Snape.

Dumbledore pondered what this meant and what steps to take next. On the bright side, the boy was willing to challenge a Basilisk- willing to die. And he had to die. Harry Potter had to fall, for the greater good, because there was no other way to kill Lord Voldemort, and Dumbledore knew it.


Chapter Text

A/N: You know, when I was writing Grimmjow I realized he reminded me a lot of another Anime/Manga character. Does anyone else think Grimmjow is basically Eren Jeager on steroids? Also, I someone pointed out I tried to shove too much into one of the Luke chapters so… I'm going to try to write longer chapters from now on.

Poll: (Note: Poll can be found here

1st: Bleach

2nd: Naruto

3rd: Doctor Who, Percy Jackson, Supernatural, X-Men Movies

4th: Avengers, Final Fantasy VII

5th: Deadpool, Star Wars Clone Wars/Rebels

6th: Buffy/Angel, Charmed, Danny Phantom, Devil May Cry, Kingdom Hearts, Young Justice

Numerous Others

Number of Voters: 59

Published: 9/11/2016

Warnings: SPOILERS for the Thousand Year Blood War Arc, in case any of you have not read it. Also, swearing. Lots of swearing. This is a Bleach crossover, afterall. Violence and child abuse.

Chapter 10

Grimmjow Part 1

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was not pleased.

He was not pleased at all.

Grimmjow was the King! He was the most powerful of the Espada! He was superior! Out of them all, Grimmjow knew that his strength surpassed that of the others. And, with Aizen out of the picture, Grimmjow knew that there was now no limit to his potential. The only one who could possibly have stood in his way was Tier Harribel, but now… Now…


Reduced to this.

Grimmjow was a being that fed on destruction. That was what he was, what he had always been. Chaos and ruin were his game. Grimmjow knew in his heart that a being like him could never create. He wasn't built for that. He had hardly batted an eyelash when his Numeros had fallen in combat.

So what if they had been with him for centuries?

So what if he had protected them and ruled over them since before Kurosaki's grandparents were even born?

So what if he had been with them since he was on the verge of becoming a Vasto Lord, so what, so what, so what! Grimmjow didn't care. They were gone. He had survived. The strong always survived. That was the way of Hueco Mundo.

And, Grimmjow was strong.

He had survived the Fall of Hueco Mundo. While Harribel had been enchained by the Quincy, Grimmjow had spent years training for his rematch- he would show Kurosaki which one of them was truly superior. And, Grimmjow had grown more powerful in that time, strong enough to crush that annoying human Soul Reaper Arrancar hybrid- just what in the wild hell was Kurosaki anyways?


Right. It no longer mattered.

It no longer mattered that Grimmjow had probably one of the most powerful beings to ever grace the world with his presence. For, you see, Grimmjow, along with that annoying hat wearing cane wielding con man, Urahara, and his pet kitty Yoruichi, had all fallen before one of Yhwach's Quincy bastards. On the bright side, they'd taken Le Vaar down with them.

How a Quincy managed to match not only Grimmjow, but two former Taichos of the Gotei 13 at the same time was beyond Grimmjow. However, if there is anything Grimmjow can appreciate, it's power. Normally, dying at the hands of such an opponent wouldn't be so bad, if it wasn't for two tiny little details.

That fucking bastard cheated, and Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, the mighty Sexta Espada, had been reduced to… To… To…


Grimmjow was spun around.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT, BOY!" Grimmjow's new uncle, if that man could be called as such, pointed wildly at the burned bacon.

Grimmjow glared.


The resonating smack knocked Grimmjow to his knees.

This… This he would never forgive. He could forgive everything else, but this right here? Grimmjow shook. This… degrading… someone would pay. Grimmjow would make them pay. He was going to destroy. Destroy, destroy, destroy!

"You disgusting little cretin! We took you in, bathed you clothed you! You should show us the respect we deserve and pull your weight around this place, freak!"

Grimmjow's head snapped up. Barring his teeth, the child glared and was satisfied when his so called Uncle flinched back. Another blow came, however, and Grimmjow's head knocked into the ground, hard, rendering him unconscious.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez's had been reborn into this life as Harry Potter. That in itself he did not mind. However… Once he found the fucker that sealed his powers, and Grimmjow could tell his power had been sealed, he would slaughter them. Tear into them with his teeth, slice into them with Pantera.

After killing the Dursley's, of course. Considering his treatment, Grimmjow was confident none of them would make it to the Soul Society or even to Hueco Mundo. They would drown in the darkness, they would be dragged straight down into Hell itself.

What Grimmjow did not know was this.

Had he not been reborn as Harry Potter, Harry would have still suffered the same abuse he had. But, Harry had been different. Harry had been a scared little boy. Harry had realized that he needed to survive. Harry had been crafty. He had appealed to whatever better nature his relatives had. Grimmjow was no child. He was a warrior, a fighter, and he refused to give ground. Grimmjow was Ichigo Kurosaki without motives, without friends to hold him back, without something precious tying him down. As such, Grimmjow had rebelled. He had fought back. Each blow he returned, eyes wild with rage. They thought they could crush him? Grimmjow would break them!

Grimmjow had lost it all, and he was a wounded beast. He had lost everything, and his response was simply.

Destroy, destroy, destroy!

Hidden in the recess of Grimmjow's mind and soul, Eren Jaeger watched on with a slight eye twitch. So, this is what all that hatred and ranting about how he was going to kill them all got him in the end. Huh. At least it wiped out the Titans.

When the letters first started coming, Grimmjow didn't see any of them at all. In fact, he wasn't aware they existed at all. For, you see, Grimmjow was… A wild child, to put it mildly. Even Vernon, despite being several times Grimmjow's size, struggled to keep the child down whenever Grimmjow decided he'd have a little fun.

It was a miracle he hadn't winded up in a Juvenile Detention Center, actually. He had once beat the shit out of a couple of the Bobby's, though. That had been fun.

As it was, Grimmjow's violent tendencies resulted in many changes Harry would not have experienced. One such change was… Grimmjow had his own bedroom, much to Dudley's chargrim. Oh, sure, it had bars and there was a bloody fucking cat flap were Grimmjow received his 'meals', but whatever.

However, because Grimmjow was basically kept prisoner to prevent him from literally tearing up the neighborhood, Grimmjow never received his Hogwarts letter.

Albus Dumbledore frowned.

This would not do. This would not do at all. He needed Harry Potter to come to Hogwarts, and his lack of response meant one thing. Petunia was acting as he had predicted. She was attempting to keep the child from the magic she so feared. Dumbledore knew that woman was terrified of magic, and he knew that such vivid fear often turns to hatred, but he had placed young Harry there anyways. Better an ignorant child then a self centered and over confident one.

However, there was one major issue.

Dumbledore remembered the night of the Potter's assassination. When he had received the child from Hagrid, Dumbledore had been surprised by the amount of spiritual power Harry had exhibited. It matched even his own! Dumbledore had been forced to suppress said power. It had been the only choice, really. Had he acted differently, he had no doubt young Harry would have burned out his magical core. Perhaps this spike in spiritual energy was what prevented Voldemort from killing him? Dumbledore could only guess.

As it was, Harry had tremendous amount of spiritual power that was locked away within his body. Dumbledore was a cautious man. He knew that powerful emotions could shatter away even the strongest of seals. Sending Hagrid, therefore, would be foolish. Should young Harry unleash the magic Dumbledore had chained away, the backlash could potentially be felt on the other side of the planet.

Because of that, there was only one choice. However, Dumbledore knew this really wasn't going to go over well. Regardless, he had little choice in the matter.

"You wished to see me, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore smiled, elbows on his desk and fingers crossed as he looked up.

"Ah, yes Severus. Please have a seat. There is much we must discuss."

Severus Snape was angry. He was furious. He was completely and utterly disgusted.

How dare that old fool? Who did he think he was, forcing Snape to do this? Had anyone else demanded it, Snape would have cursed them on the spot. As it was, Snape owed his current status as a non Azkaban resident to the Headmaster, so he had little choice but to obey the will of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Bah. Too many bloody names.

Snape walked forth and knocked. Patiently, he waited as he heard the Dursley's scutter behind the door. Snape glared. He did not have all day! He had things to do!

The door swung open.

"Hello? Pleased to meet you, Mr- YOU! Begone!"

Ah. So Petunia did recognize him. Wonderful. Snape caught the door as she attempted to slam it in his face.

"I've come to give the boy his letter, Petunia. You know, the one you should have already given him."

"We swore when we took him in that there would be no unnaturalism in this house! And, we succeeded!" Petunia smirked at him. Snape felt his blood turn cold. "Beat it out him, my Vernon did! His eyes used to glow blue, you know! That wretched magic," Petunia spat, "But Vernon set him straight! Of course, it turned him into a violent little hooligan, but at least he isn't one of those freaks like-"

Snape had had enough.

With a wave of his wand, Petunia was knocked backwards. Snarling, Snape stomped into the house.

"What is this? You are breaking and entering, s-"

Vernon didn't get to finish. He was bound and silenced with a wave of Snape's wand.


The child would have wailed more had Snape not silenced him as well. Snape grabbed the child by the chin and forced him to look at his eyes. "Sleep, boy." Dudley fought it. He truly did. But, it was of no use. His eyes shuttered close and he fell to the ground without a sound. Then, Snape waved his wand once more. Upstairs. Potter was upstairs. Leaving the Dursley's behind, Snape began to storm his way up the stairs.

Beat the magic out of Lily's son? Snape was furious. If it was true, oaths be damned, he would kill Albus Dumbledore himself, he would strike down the so called most powerful sorcerer of their age, he-

The door to Potter's room exploded in a mess of splinters. Snape covered his eyes in surprise, and it cost him as a tiny body collided with his own and shoved him over the stairs. Snape spun and, had he not been a wizard, he was sure he would have broken a leg. The Dursleys sat off to the side, staring with wide eyes. Snape glared up the stairs, were a young Harry Potter- had the boy dyed his blasted hair blue?- stood before the remains of the door.

"I don't know who the fuck you are, batface, but yah chose the wrong house to fuckin' mug!"

Screw it. Snape was going to kill Dumbledore, period, for making him put up with all this shit in the first place.

"Do you… Do you remember it?"

Grimmjow could only stare.

"The fuck kinda question is that? No, seriously, what the hell? I'm done with you." with that, Grimmjow turned away. Figures. His parents just had to be dead. He wondered, briefly, if they had died in his first life as well, before Hueco Mundo. Where had he come from, who had he been, what had been his name? Once upon a time, Grimmjow had searched for answers. However, he found that in the end he just didn't care.

Just like he didn't care that his parents in this life were dead too.

Nope, didn't care at all.

As the time passed, more people came into the compartment. A stupid blond had tried to play superior. Grimmjow had responded by breaking his face.

"My 'ather will 'ere 'bout this!" the boy shouted, covering his nose as blood gushed out. Behind him, Grimmjow heard Ron snort.

Grimmjow glared.

"Your daddy? You just lost whatever respect I had for you, brat. Need daddy to save you, huh? Go on then. Go running to daddy. Just remember…" Grimmjow got in close and Malfoy backed away, fear in his eyes, "The Panther always get's it's prey, no matter what obstacles stand in it's way." Grimmjow grinned before tossing the kid out.

He wasn't sure if what he said about panthers was true or not, but Grimmjow knew panthers were his spirit animal. Obviously, if they were his spirit animal, they had to be just as badass as he was.

"That was wicked!" Ron grinned. Despite himself, Grimmjow couldn't help but grin back. Then, he put an arm around Ron, who looked at him oddly.

"Kid… I think we might just get along."

Grimmjow had lost his Numeros, but that didn't mean he couldn't rebuild. And he would rebuild. He would rebuild them greater and stronger than ever before. Okay, so this brat had annoyed him, but… Grimmjow sensed potential. He also sensed potential in that annoying blond, but he wouldn't be bothered with that one until he got his head out of his ass and stopped ranting about his daddy. Honestly. How pathetic was that?

The next people who came in were looking for a toad.

"The hell do you care about a toad that keeps runnin' away? Get a cat. Cat's are badass little fuckers." he then lifted his own adorable little orange cat. He had named it Ichigo, simply because the look on Kurosaki's face if they ever met again would be gold.

The girl, Hermion Grimmjow thought she said her name was, gaped at him.

"That- that- that sort of language will get you in trouble!"

Grimmjow deadpanned.

"The fuck do I care?" then, he proceeded to pet Ichigo, who purred in delight. Hermione could only gape.

Neville didn't know what to do. Then, Grimmjow motioned to the seat next to him. "Forget the toad, kid. If it keeps runnin', let it be free."

"But- but- Uncle Algie gave it to me after I finally showed magic when he tossed me out the window!"

Grimmjow raised a single eyebrow. Across from him, he noticed Ron wasn't surprised at all but the girl looked horrified.

"He tossed you outta window? Sounds like he was tryin' to off ya, brat. For all you know, the toad's poison. I mean, it's a toad." Grimmjow shrugged. Seriously? A toad? Then again, Grimmjow was from a country where the local Mythology included a Toad Sage…

"No! He wanted to see if I had magic! My uncle-" Neville defended.

"Sounds as nice as mine," Grimmjow interrupted, lifting his shirt. The others gasped at the scars that littered his body. Neville's face became green. "Right bastard, he is. Come on, forget the toad. You too, bush hair."

"Bu- bush hair! How dare you!" the girl snapped.

Grimmjow grinned.

"What else do you want me to call you?"

"My name!"

"I don't know your name, sweetheart. Hermes, I think?" Grimmjow tilted his head.


"Ah. That. Cool. Come on, sit." Grimmjow motioned.

Hermione glared but did as told after Neville did too. She had never had many friends, after all. While Ron looked uncomfortable at her very presence, the other two boys seemed to want her here so maybe she could finally get along with her yearmates for once.

Grimmjow grinned.

He could sense their magic, and he knew all three had potential. He'd rebuild his Kingdom. Grimmjow was the King, and the Wizarding World? Grimmjow would conquer it. But, even Kings need minions. Yes, that's what they would be. Just minions.

At last, they made their way into the Great Hall. Grimmjow patiently awaited his turn, which for him was a real feat. At last, he was summoned.

"GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR! I don't think I've ever sorted anyone more a Gryffindor than you, now get me off his head!" the Sorting Hat bellowed.

Grimmjow made his way towards the house of Red and Gold as they cheered. With a look, Grimmjow glanced at the Staff table. Severus nodded at Grimmjow and Grimmjow grinned right back before sitting down.

Of course, they were on him rather quickly.

Grimmjow smirked. He could get used to this.

Grimmjow stared transfixed at the Mirror of Erised.

What… What the utter fuck?

This had to be a lie. It was a lie! It was a goddamn lie! This wasn't what he wanted! It was never what he had wanted! Grimmjow was the King, he was supreme, there was no one better than him! Grimmjow needed no one, Grimmjow was the best! Grimmjow… Grimmjow…

Saw himself surrounded by several others. That blasted bastard Kurosaki was at his side, those idiot minions he had begun to recruit were there, his old Numeros were there, James Potter and Lily Evans were there and- and- NO!


Grimmjow needed no one! He needed nothing! How- how fucking dare this piece of shit mirror lie to him like this? Grimmjow shook. His fist clenched. For the first time in years, his eyes glowed blue with suppressed power. Grimmjow growled, lifted his hand, and let a blast of pure energy lose. He grinned as the mirror was obliterated before making his way out of the room.

Hidden in the shadows, Albus Dumbledore could only gape.

What… What in the world was that?

Grimmjow had always avoided Professor Quirrell. Unlike everyone else, Grimmjow had known from the start that Quirrell was more dangerous than he appeared. In fact, if Grimmjow didn't know any better, he'd say that Quirrell could potentially match one of the Espada, but, well…

The power didn't feel like it was his.

Grimmjow didn't know how to describe it.

Quirrell's power would spike and drop randomly throughout the day. Once, it was as high as Stark's. The next, it was the strength of Kurosaki's little sister Yuzu who Grimmjow only knew because she liked cats.

Grimmjow had always vowed that if anything happened to Kurosaki he would at least protect Yuzu. Hey, cat lovers must unite!

Speaking of cats…

"Did you get him, Ichi?"

Ichigo mewled before depositing an trembling rat before Grimmjow. Grimmjow grinned as the rat tried to run. Without a second thought, Grimmjow stabbed a quill through it's tail, pinning it. Scabbers screamed.

"Hello, little guy. Now, I can tell you're human. I can sense it, you know." Grimmjow revealed, smirking. "So… Show me your true form. Or, I can let Ichi play with you." Grimmjow shrugged. The rat squealed. Grimmjow turned to look at his cat. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Ichi?"

Ichigo looked rather eager.

The rat cried out one last time as Ichigo pounced before there was a flash of light. Grimmjow blinked. Huh. He expected someone naked, like Yoruichi. Instead, what he got was fat little man covered in filth.

"So… Who are you?" Grimmjow asked.

"I see. So, you did survive."

Eyes wide, Grimmjow spun. Just how in the hell had anyone managed to sneak up on him? Grimmjow's senses were that of an alpha predator! Sneaking up on him should be completely and utterly-

A stunner blasted Grimmjow into the wall. Eyeing the child with distaste, Quirrell turned to Pettigrew.

"Hello, Peter. It's been so long."

When Grimmjow awoke, it was to find someone had unsuccessfully tried to alter his memory. Ha! Joke was on Quirrell. Those with high spiritual pressure were perfectly capable of resisting such attempts on their minds. His second thought was shit. His third was rage.


Grimmjow picked up his cat and, for the first time in years, allowed himself to cry.


"I can still hear his tiny kitten voice! Don't worry, Ichi! I will avenge you!"


"It's getting pretty loud… I guess I cared for you more than I thought… It's okay, Ichi! I'll make them pay!"



Tiny claws dug themselves in Grimmjow's leg. Glancing down, Grimmjow gasped as he saw his cat- who, apparently, had been turned into a mini ghost cat.

"Ichi!" Grimmjow grinned.

Then, he looked at the cat corpse to the cat spirit. Hm. How exactly did Gigais work again? Bah, he'd figure it out eventually.

Hogwarts had ghosts.

Grimmjow had been in this blasted school for two years and he had no idea that Hogwarts had ghosts. Or that, apparently, Ron and Hermione, two of his most loyal bitches, had apparently been to a party with them. Grimmjow was offended. Why wasn't he invited? He was a killer at ghost parties.

Unknown to Grimmjow, the ghosts avoided him like a plague. He was an Arrancar, and they could sense it. Arrancars tend to devour souls, literally, so best stay away from one.

"Enemies of the Heir Beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

Grimmjow looked up at the message. Hm.

"Huh. Pretty idiotic, declaring his intent from the start." Grimmjow said, a finger in his ear. The students froze.

"Wha- what is that suppose to mean, Potter!" Malfoy glared.

Grimmjow turned to him.

"Instead of hiding in the shadows, he declares what he's going to do from the- is that Mrs. Noris?" Grimmjow suddenly realized, eyes fixed on the frozen cat.

"Yes! There will be punishment! My cat! My precious cat!" Filch cried.

"Agreed! We'll tear them limb from limb, cut them to fuckin' shreds! Who the hell did this! I'm gonna rip out their-" Grimmjow thundered.

Filch looked at Grimmjow with new appreciation. At last. Someone who understood.

The students were confused.

"Why is Potter so pissed?"

"He's bonkers for cats." Seamus Finnigan spoke.


"Yep. Love's the little bastards, he do- oh shit!" Seamus leapt back.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT CATS!" Grimmjow, who had apparently heard him, had suddenly appeared before him, spitting all over Seamus' face.

"Students! Return to your dormitories at once!"

Well. That was that.

Grimmjow stared.

"I… I can speak to snakes…"

"He's the Heir of Slytherin!" someone shouted.

Grimmjow shook.

Then, he glared at the ceiling.

"I asked for the ability to talk to cats, you dense mother fucker!"

The Hall quieted down.

"Yeah… Potter's not the Heir. He's too cat crazed.


The student jumped. Unfortunately, so did half the school so Grimmjow never learned who dared speak of cats like that in his presence.

Tom Riddle was startled when a hand pinned him to the wall.

"Harry? Harry, what are you-" Tom began.

"Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in Minon Red's little sis?"

Tom was startled. A crowd had formed.

"What's Potter doing to Weasley?"

"He's gone mad, hasn't he?"

"He's always been mad, didn't you know?"


Grimmjow turned his head as his favorite teacher, Snape, made his way down. One would expected McGonagall, but… Snape was literally the only adult in this damn place that didn't treat Grimmjow like he was a child that needed to be coddled.

"Professor Wayne," Grimmjow acknowledged, ignoring the Muggleborn snorts. Then, he turned to Ginny. "This girl is possessed." Grimmjow was about to prove that when-


Grimmjow was impressed. It seemed Ron Weasley had balls after all.

Tom smirked. Time to make his departure. He would let the Weasley girl take control again. Then, at last, he would be-

A silver doe collided with him and Tom screeched. All eyes turned away from Ron Weasley and Harry Potter wrestling on the ground towards Ginny Weasley, whose eyes had turned black as she gave a banshee like scream. Then, the girl collapsed.

"I see… She was possessed. 10 points to Gryffindor, Mr. Potter." the students gasped. What? "Now, we will have to perform an Exorcism on the girl." Snape looked troubled at the thought. "She should be fine afterwards," he placated Weasley before levitating Ginny into the air, "And, of course, her parents must be informed. Back to classes! Nothing to see here!"

Sirius Black had been imprisoned for so long.

It had been so many years. He couldn't even remember at this point. Did it matter? Did anything matter? James was dead. Lily was dead. Remus hated him. Peter had been broken by Voldemort. Everything had gone to hell, and Sirius hated it. He hated the world. He hated himself.

It was then that the side of his cell exploded.

Sirius leapt up, startled, staring at the hole.

A single figure stepped forth, shrouded in smoke

"Sirius Black. Do you have any idea how hard it was tracking you? Hell, do you have any idea how fucking hard it was to weezle enough energy through the seal to free you?

"Who are you!" Sirius shouted.

The figure stepped out of the smoke and Sirius' jaw dropped.

Blue glowing eyes grinned at him.

"Your fucking godson. Come on, let's get you out of this place."

Remus Lupin didn't know what to think of Harry. He was… Well, he was nothing like his parents. He could never remember them loving cats, for one. James had been a trouble maker, yes, but compared to Harry, James had been the model student. Harry also seemed to inspire others, surprisingly. In fact, the Malfoy boy had recently fallen under Harry's wing. How that happened was beyond Remus.

Most mysterious of all, however…

"What do you mean he and Snape get along!?"

This… This made no sense! Snape had hated James! It had been his only personality trait in school, Remus remembered. It was all Snape had lived for. Yet, now he and Harry got along? This made no sense! It was impossible! It had to be a lie! It… It was just so weird! How on earth had this happened?

Dumbledore nodded.

"I'm afraid so, ever since Severus took Harry from his previous guardians."

Remus' head shot up.

"Took from his relatives? Elaborate, Professor."

"Of course, my dear boy." Dumbledore nodded. "Years ago, Harry was not receiving his letters. As it was, Snape was the only member of the staff not busy." Dumbledore amended. More like the only member of the staff who could handle Harry if he went rogue. Remus stared in disbelief.

"The only staff member?"

Dumbledore sighed.

"Snape knew Petunia as children-"

"PETUNIA!" Remus interrupted, gazing at Dumbledore in shock. Dumbledore blinked. What was the problem? "That woman hates magic, Dumbledore! I wouldn't be surprised if she attempted to beat the magic out of Harry!"

Dumbledore flinched. That was all the confirmation Remus needed.

So it was that Dumbledore walked into breakfast the next morning with a broken nose.

The year passed without incident. Well, without incident except the Dementors, but they didn't bother Grimmjow. In fact, they were his new bitches. They recognized Grimmjow as superior- because, let's face it, Grimmjow is- and obeyed his every command.

As such, the Quidditch Cup was theirs! Ha! No way Grimmjow would lose to that Hufflepuff pretty boy!

The only problem had been with Snape and Sirius.

When Grimmjow had brought Sirius home, well… Snape hadn't reacted well. Grimmjow was actually surprised the house was still standing afterwards. Silently, he wondered if they were still acting like mature adults.

Regardless, there was one more piece Grimmjow needed.

He needed to bring Remus Lupin into the fold. He needed to prepare. He needed to be ready.

Dumbledore was troubled.

Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban and had not been seen since. Remus had been outed at the end of the year because the Defense Curse always gets it's way, and now Remus was gone. Except… Remus and Snape had been on good terms in the end.

Remus. And Snape.

There could only be one cause. There could only be one person.

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes.

He had feared from the beginning, but, after examining the damage at Azkaban there could only be one conclusion.

"Harry… My dear boy, have you followed the path of Tom Riddle before you?"

Yes, Harry had delivered the Diary. Yes, Harry had defended his classmates. Yes, Harry was a Gryffindor. But, there was a darkness in his eyes, a fire, a fury. Dumbledore feared.

For the first time in years, the idea of setting up Harry's ultimate demise at the hands of Voldemort no longer frightened Dumbledore. No, instead, he pondered on how to eliminate both for good. Albus Dumbledore loved the Wizarding World in it's entirety, and he'd be damned before he let another Voldemort rise and destroy all he had stood to protect.

Dumbledore's eyes burned.

Tom Riddle and Harry Potter… Two boys torn from the same clothe. He had hesitated with Tom. He would not do so with Harry, now that he recognized the signs. If Harry could not be stopped, he would destroy him, plain and simple, no matter how much the thought ached at his heart.

Elsewhere, alarms blared.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi sighed as he made his way down to see what the problem was. Glancing at the computer, his eyes widened.

What? No, what?

Impossible! But, it seemed…

An Arrancar had been reborn instead of ending up in the Soul Society… An Arrancar that had fallen in the Soul King's Palace, the only Arrancar that had fallen there and fought alongside them- Neliel did not count. Where she'd run off to was unknown to Mayuri and, indeed, everyone else.

An Espada. The Sexta, to be precise, whom had fallen alongside that fool Urahara.

Mayuri smirked.

Yes, he could work with this.

He would get that Espada, and perform his experiments. What secrets would he learn from this curious development?

Unknown to Mayuri, he was not alone in the room. Another stood in the shadows. Without a though, they leapt out the back. Ichigo had to know of this.

All the pieces were finally falling into place.

Chapter Text

A/N: So… This chapter was almost delayed. Almost. Had a really busy day today. And, you people are awesome and there isn't a tie this week so I'm only writing one chapter! Yay :)

Also, I've created a one shot on Grimmjow's past life as Eren Jaegar. It really fits when you think about it.

Enjoy :)

Published: 9/17/2016

Warnings: SPOILERS for the Bleach Manga ending.

Chapter 13

Grimmjow Part 2

Ichigo Kurosaki sighed.

After the war, after all the struggles, he… Well, he'd been bored, actually, not that he'd ever admit it. Ichigo had succeeded where even Yamamoto had failed. He had done the one task even the Head Captain could not.

He had executed Yhwach, the Father of all Quincys.

Actually, Ichigo still wasn't exactly sure how he'd won. Yhwach had literally drained Ichigo of his powers. He had shattered Ichigo's Bankai. The Son of the Soul King hadn't even bothered to use Ryujin Jakka against Ichigo. Scratch that, Yhwach hadn't bothered to even use his own Quincy Vollstandig. Did Yhwach even have one of those? Sometimes, Ichigo wondered if how they had ended things had really just been a dream.

For one, Tsukishima had shown up out of nowhere and restored Ichigo's Bankai. Something about owing him? Ginjo had been standing there to the side, too. Then, Aizen of all people had decided to help him defeat Yhwach. That in itself was not so shocking. Aizen had no interest in destroying the world.

You can't rule over something that no longer exists, after all.


What was strange was how it all ended.

Ichigo had literally been slaughtered the first round. He had suspected there was a property of Tensa Zangetsu that would prove fatal to the Quincy overlord. Why else would he have bothered shattering it in the first place before Ichigo even had a chance to use it?

Ichigo knew, from experience, that Yhwach could change the future to his liking. It was like Tsukishima, only worse. Tsukishima altered the past. Yhwach altered the future. How, then, had Yhwach not seen that Aizen would ensnare him in an illusion?

How the hell had Aizen done that anyways?

Kyoka Suigetsu was long gone. It had shattered when Aizen had rejected it years ago. Then again, if meeting Koga Kuchki had taught Ichigo anything… It was that the Zanpakuto's power reflected it's master's natural affinity, not the other way around.

Then again, Yhwach had broken through the web of lies Aizen had forged rather easily. It hadn't taken him long. Their victory had come from Uryu, who had shown up out of nowhere with a weapon that conveniently would disable Yhwach for a short period.

Why Uryu hadn't been stripped of his powers, actually, was what troubled Ichigo the most. It made him ponder. It made him think. Ichigo was smarter than people gave him credit for. Oh, sure, he was insane enough that he had actually begun to enjoy Kenpachi popping out of nowhere for a 'rematch', but that mean that Ichigo was stupid, especially when it came to battle and war. Ichigo was a fighter at heart.

He may have fought to protect those he loved, that may have been his highest motivation, his reason behind all his actions, but…

The Hollow in his heart had not been born from Ichigo's darker emotions. That Hollow had been Ichigo's core feelings, what flowed within him, the heart of his being. His Hollow, when it had taken control, had always done exactly what Ichigo had wanted, he now realized. His Hollow had always defended him, always pushed him, always made him better, made him stronger. His Hollow had defended him against adversaries and, once, had even taken Ichigo over completely and had, well…

Ichigo Kurosaki had only one true loss to his name, only one opponent that had bested him and that he had failed to surpass and defeat in kind.

Ichigo had not killed Ulquiorra.

Zangetsu had, in a pissed off moment of utter rage and destructiveness.

Zangetsu was Ichigo's instincts honed to their finest. Yhwach may have attempted to break that bond, but it was still there. Ichigo had always been a Demi-Hollow. He had been a Demi-Hollow as long as he had been a Quincy.

Perhaps that had been what Yhwach had feared.

Ichigo was a mystery. He was not something that should exist.

The power of Hollows and the power of Quincy's were direct contradictory forces. They destroyed one another to the point were a Hollow could destroy a Quincy's soul and a Quincy could destroy a Hollow's soul.

Yet Ichigo existed.

Ichigo lived.

And both powers found home within his Zanpakuto.

Yhwach may have stripped Ichigo of Quincy powers, but…

"Come on, King! Let's go find something to fight! Something to kill! Maybe there are stronger adversaries all over the globe?"

Zangetsu was very much alive. Unfortunately, his Quincy half was gone and all that was left was the Hollow half of Ichigo's Zanpakuto, so… There was literally nothing stopping the bastard from ranting in Ichigo's head anymore.

"Go away, Shiro!" Ichigo snapped.

"Oh yeah, 'Shiro'. How utterly original." Ichigo could hear the eyeroll in that statement.

"Well, that was the name of original Hollow that infected my mother. And, you came from that thing." Ichigo casually pointed out.

This time, Shiro had no response.

Ichigo was content. Finally! Peace and quiet. No more dealing with his annoying Zanpakuto ranting in his ear. Not that Ichigo would change that. No. Rukia had once offered to bring up the case to the Soul Society since Ichigo was hardly the first person to have a talking Zanpakuto never leave them alone, but Ichigo had declined.

Zangetsu might be a pain in the ass, but he was Ichigo's pain in the ass.

Ichigo sighed.

The others would be wondering where he had walked off too. The final showdown with Yhwach hadn't been that long ago. At the same time, it felt like it had been forever ago, and the others were still cautious. All of them had nearly died, afterall.

Suddenly, a garganta tore open into existence before Ichigo. Weary, Ichigo jumped back, preparing to leave his body. Ichigo, at this point, was pretty sure that gaining the ability to willingly leave his body was a bad thing but he couldn't be bothered to care at this point. Okay, so he was closer to dead than alive, whatever-

"Calm down, King! Sheesh! Honestly, are those senses of yours utterly useless?" Zangetsu decided to interject.

"Shut it, underworld reje-" Ichigo began.


Only to be tackled by a little green haired girl and knocked to the ground. Ichigo fell with an umph as Nel embraced him.

"Nel!" Ichigo gasped out.

Wow! That girl really had one strong grip…

"Let go of me, Nel!"

"Itsygo! Grimm-grimm is alive!"

Ichigo froze.


Grimmjow… Grimmjow was alive? Ichigo paled slightly. Oh, sure, Ichigo had every confidence that he would have been able to mop the floor with Grimmjow a couple months ago, but that was before Yhwach had literally tore out half of Ichigo's powers from him.

However, another part of Ichigo, a part of him that he didn't exactly want to acknowledge, did not feel fear. No. Instead...

"Woo hoo! Let's go fight him, King! I've been itchin' for another round against an Espada since we tore Ulquiorra a new one!"

Ichigo glared.

"You literally beat that midget to death with his own arm!"

"Wha- what?" Nel gasped and backed away slightly. Shit. Ichigo had said that out loud. He had a problem with saying things like that whenever he was talking to Zangetsu. Once, he had yelled in the middle of class only to get weird looks. Luckily, Keigo had decided to play along and it had eventually been forgotten.

Ah, Keigo. Always so helpfull. Maybe Ichigo should stop beating the shit out of his friend?


Wait. Issue at hand. Right.

Ichigo's eyes locked back to Nel's.

"Grimmjow survived?"

Nelliel nodded.

"Grimm got reinarnated!" the child stuttered, "He's a wizard now!"


"That that, motherfucker! Die! Burn in hell! Go be Szayelaporro's bitch toys! Soul King knows the fucker needs more considering how often he breaks 'em!"

Grimmjow's battle tactics were, well… Did they count as battle tactics? Could they even be considered tactics? Grimmjow's basic strategy was basically shoot, shoot, blast, destroy, kill. There was no strategy, really. Just brute force.

Which, apparently, was the best strategy.


Grimmjow responded to that little declaration by blasting a Bala from his wand tip. This was so much fun! Ever since Grimmjow had learned to channel his Arrancar powers into his wand, he'd learned that he could summon blasts of energy at will, and, well…

It turned out the Wizards really didn't have anything capable of blocking spiritual energy blasts properly.

Unknown to Grimmjow, they totally did. The Death Eaters before him just didn't realize that Exorcism class spells were literally the only answer to Grimmjow's onslaught.

Grimmjow was having the time of his life. This was fun! It was the most fun he'd had since being reincarnated as a fucking brat. Beside him, Ichigo snarled and darted out. Death Eaters attacked, but… They were unaware they were up against a Ghost kitty. A Ghost kitty of death, claws, and cuteness.

"What is this power?"

"Is… Is this why the Dark Lord feared him?

Grimmjow teleported before what he assumed was the leader. The man jumped and nearly dropped his wand. The Death Eater managed to point it at Grimmjow and the tip glowed green but it didn't matter. Grimmjow had already backhanded him, hard, sending him through one of the tents.

"The Boy Who Lived is on our side…"

"The boy that defeated Voldemort, he's helping us!"


Grimmjow grinned.

Apparently, celebrity status was useful in rallying useless Ministry officials.

Unfortunately for Grimmjow, Voldemort had had an entire year to analyze the Boy Who Lived after he had managed to infiltrate Hogwarts right under Dumbledore's oversized broken nose. As such, Voldemort knew what the Death Eaters did not. What Voldemort knew… Barty Crouch Junior knew. Voldemort had had Pettigrew for far longer, so he had moved far sooner. He had discovered Barty earlier than in the original timeline, and, well…

"Omnis Immundus Spiritus!"

Grimmjow's eyes widened. He gave a short gasp. His wand fell from his fingertips. Then, the Boy Who Lived fell to his knees and screamed. The Death Eaters gasped as they were flung back. Many decided to flee then and there, not wanting to get on the wrong end of Harry Potter. It didn't matter, however, because Grimmjow was in no state to chase after them.

Instead, his head collided with the earth and all he knew was the dark.

Grimmjow's eyes snapped open.


Instantly, he shot up. To Grimmjow's surprise, he was back in his old body.

Yes! Strong, tall, sexy. Grimmjow had it all back! Being turned into a damn child had not been fun. So small, so tiny, so utterly helpless… But, at last! He was himself! He was whole! He… Was listing to a child bawling, actually.

Grimmjow turned his head and eyed a small baby with trepidation. Where had the baby come from? Where was 'here' anyways? This didn't look like his own inner world. In fact, it looked like…

"Platform Nine and Three Quarters."

Grimmjow turned.

"Who," Grimmjow began, "The fuck are you."

The brown haired teenager met his glare full force.

"I'm you, duh. Well, you before you became… That." the teenager waved in Grimmjow's general direction. A tic mark appeared upon Grimmjow's head.

"What's that suppose to mean, brat!"

The teen sighed.

"I died. I died, and became a Hollow. Me, pass into the Soul Society?" the kid snorted before shaking his head. "No… We were too full of rage. We still were, afterwards. We didn't lead a happy life. It was destructive. It was full of hate. We were full of hate. What we wanted…" if Grimmjow hadn't know any better, he could have sworn there was a literal fire in the teenager's eyes, "We wanted to Kill Them All."

Grimmjow did not speak for several seconds. Instead, he processed. Then, at last, the Arrancar opened his mouth.


The teen just shook his head.

"Doesn't matter anymore. What matters is you. I died and my hate turned me into you. You fed on the Hollows of Hueco Mundo, like all other upper class Hollows, and made that." the teen pointed.

Grimmjow turned his head. Then, he grinned.


Said Zanpakuto spirit tackled Grimmjow before licking his face repeatably.

Grimmjow smirked before tackling the cat. If Panthera wanted to play rough, Grimmjow was fine with that. He would play rough.


Grimmjow and Panthera froze. Slowly, the pair looked up to see the impatient teenager watching them with annoyed eyes, hands on his hips. Grimmjow snorted.

"Aren't you curious as to why you're here?"

Oh yeah huh!

How had Grimmjow ended up here? He'd tried to reach his inner world many times but each attempt after the other had been met with complete and utter failure, which was not a thing that Grimmjow normally would ever admit. Grimmjow didn't fail, ever! He… Erm… Took his time. Yeah, that was it. He hadn't failed. He was taking his time.

Then, the baby wailed.

Grimmjow glared.

"What is that thing anyways? Why is a baby here?"

The teen sighed and walked forth. Without missing a beat he lifted the child and held him close, ending the sobs. Then, the boy looked at Grimmjow again.

"This… This is Harry Potter."

Grimmjow stared. Then, pushing Panthera off of him, he rose.

"That's impossible. I am Harry Potter." Grimmjow jabbed a finger in his own direction.

The teen, however, shook his head.

"Of course you aren't. You are Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. This is Harry Potter." the teen explained.

Grimmjow's stare hardened.

"I'm Harry!" and he was. Grimmjow had grown up as Harry Potter. He was Harry. End of story. Some random shit head appearing in his head wasn't going to convince him otherwise.

"No… You drowned him," the teen informed Grimmjow, who staggered back. "Harry Potter never had a chance to live, because you took over. He never existed, because you replaced him. Harry Potter died years ago and you, Grimmjow, you killed him. Your memories, your existence, it hit him to fast. He never had a chance. He faded and was replaced. You aren't Harry, Grimmjow. You're his executioner."

Grimmjow took several steps back.

That… That couldn't be true, right?

No! It wasn't true! Grimmjow… Grimmjow had done several fucked up things, yeah. But killing a baby? NO! That… That was one line even he would never cross. Grimmjow had never fought because he was a psychotic killer. No, he was in it for the thrill of the fight, nothing more nothing less. Killing a child was… Was…


Another spirit materialized.

It took Grimmjow several moments to recognize the woman.

"... Mom?"

The redhead smiled at him. Lily Potter walked forth and cupped Grimmjow's cheek.

"My darling boy… You've grown."

"He killed your son." the teen called out.

"He was always my son," Lily countered with a glance behind her, "Only a different part of him. Had my Harry grown, this is what he would have become." Then, she turned back to Grimmjow. "They share the same soul, after all. My Harry would have reflected you. You have my Harry's soul, so you are my Harry no matter what face you wear. You are my son… And you need to go back."


Lily nodded.

"You were hit with an Exorcism spell. Before long, the effects will be permanent, and you will be trapped here. You must return. You have to stop Voldemort, Harry. If he isn't stopped… The Dark Lord is meddling with powers even he does not understand.

Grimmjow frowned. Then, he waved it off. What could a human possibly do? Ha! "How bad could it possibly be?" he voiced as such.

Lily's eyes hardened. She was not pleased. Grimmjow resisted the urge to shrink under her stare. This woman was technically his mother.

"Voldemort plans to channel the powers of Hell. He is just as dangerous, if not more, than Sosuke Aizen. You have to stop him, Harry. And, you have to go back." then, the hugged him.

Grimmjow froze.

What… What was this?


He… No one had ever… Not that he could remember. He couldn't remember at all, not when he had been human the first time. Not in this life. Not as an Arrancar. No one had ever…

Grimmjow sighed and hugged her back.

Not that he would ever admit it.

Oh no. If asked, Grimmjow would deny, deny, deny. Grimmjow didn't want a hug from his mother. Grimmjow didn't need it. Grimmjow didn't need anyone.

Lily sighed before letting him go. A hand cupped his cheek again.

"Go back, Harry. It isn't your time. Go back, and stop him."

Grimmjow looked into her eyes. Then, at last, he nodded. Then, he was gone.

Lily sighed.

Then, she spun on the teenager.

"What the bloody hell was that about!"

The teen shrugged.

"A reality check. He's me, remember? That means he's destructive by nature. If the world burns around him, he'll just shrug it off. Knowing that he erased Harry… It'll put things in perspective for him."

Lily rolled her eyes.

"He didn't replace Harry and you know it. He became Harry."

The baby faded. The baby had never been there to begin with.

"Oh, I know. But he doesn't." then, the teen grinned.

Lily could only shake her head and resist the urge to facepalm.

Grimmjow woke up with a start.


Where was he? His limbs felt stiff. How long had he been out?

"It is with great regret that I must declare Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived, as officially de-" Cornelius Fudge spoke, tears falling down his face. His career… Ruined!

Grimmjow began to cough. Loudly.

The crowd gave a collective gasp as Grimmjow sat up. The crowd stared at Grimmjow. Grimmjow stared at the crowd.

"Erm… hi?" Grimmjow waved.



Grimmjow was suddenly tackled to the ground by a wild beast that is feared across all parts of Europe. This beast, this animal, is known as… A Wild Hermione. "Ow!" Hermione, unfortunately, was not alone. Before Grimmjow knew it, all his bitches had wrapped him in a massive group hug.

Grimmjow redded.

What the hell was this?

Why… Why did they care?

Hadn't he treated them as tools? As assets? As a means to an end? Hell, he mentally called them his bitches. Yet… Yet… Here they were, all of them, even that annoying Malfoy brat. Grimmjow shook for a second. His heart thudded inside his chest, once, twice. Grimmjow closed his eyes and… Let himself enjoy it.

He'd been reborn as a human.

It was time he recognized that fact. Grimmjow was now a human. He now had a heart, a thing that all Hollows lack. He had a heart and it was telling him that this, this right here, was what he had always wanted.

Huh. Maybe that blasted mirror hadn't been lying.

Maybe that idiot Stark had had a point all along.

What's the purpose of life without comrades at your side, after all? So, for once in his life… Grimmjow let go and just let himself feel. Not destruction like usual. No. Instead, he let himself feel happy.

"Harry Potter!"

Grimmjow blinked.

Grimmjow's bitches blinked.

The school held their breath.

Then, all eyes turned towards Grimmjow, who was completely and utterly dumbfounded.

Why, you ask?

You see… Grimmjow wanted into the contest. In fact, many of the younger students had wanted in, and who was Grimmjow to deny them when he had a badass little kitty capable of bypassing whatever line Dumbledore had established?

So it was that Grimmjow's name had been called… Twice!

Dumbledore twitched.

"Mr. Potter…"

"Oh, I totally entered. So did half of Gryffindor, a few Ravenclaws, like a fourth of Hufflepuff, and literally all of Slytherin. Except the second and first years. I didn't enter those bitches." Grimmjow shrugged.

Dumbledore resisted the urge to scream.

"Vwell…" Madam Maxine began, "I see no problem."

"No problem! The brat is fourteen!"

"Yes. But, he also got past the Ageline. 'Ogwartz has chosen her champion!"

However, a second question was now being asked within the minds of the students, the staff, and, indeed, every single person within that room.

Harry Potter had obviously entered himself into the Goblet of Fire. That was not in question. He had apparently also entered a majority of the school, much to Dumbledore's chagrin. The point was… Someone capable of doing that wouldn't have bothered entering the name twice, so…

Who had hoodwinked the Goblet of Fire?

Barty Crouch Jr. attempted to keep a calm facade. Shit. He had been counting on the tension of there being two Hogwarts champions to distract from the cup being enchanted. Wizards were rather one minded in that regard. Without that factor, well…

Barty would have to watch his steps. He would have to watch them indeed.


Grimmjow watched in boredom as the spider did the bidding of its new master. How anyone could laugh at this was beyond him. It was so dull! Grimmjow rested his face on one his palms, resisting the urge to fall asleep then and there.

Without a second thought, Grimmjow smashed the spider as it was sent towards him.

"Pay attention, Potter! Just because you were instrumental in the capture of wayward Death Eaters does not mean you can sleep in my classroom! Understood!"

Grimmjow shrugged but sat up anyways. There was a gleam in his eyes, however, that Hermione had grown accustomed to. The bushy haired bookworm sighed. Another prank war against a teacher. She had tried to talk Harry out of his prank war with Lockhart, but… It hadn't been very effective at all, really.


Grimmjow blinked.

That was what wizards considered pain?

Then again… Grimmjow tilted his head as the spider withered. Hm. Might be useful for nerve paralysis. Then, he tossed the idea aside. Only a weakling needed something like that to win a fight.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Grimmjow froze.

Green… Green light. Screams. A falling body. Tears. A flash. Pain. Pain. PAIN.

"... and he's sitting in this roo- Potter, are you okay? You look awfully pale."

Grimmjow shook it off.

"Nothing. It's nothing, Professor. Continue." Grimmjow waved off. However, internally, he watched. He watched and remembered. Green light. Green arching lightning. It reminded him of someone. Figures. The Killing Curse would remind him of Ulquiorra. After all… Ulquiorra inbodied the aspect of Nihilism, apathy in the face of all life.

Never mind that Grimmjow now remembered vividly that this was how Lily and James Potter had died.

Ichigo Kurosaki landed within the walls of Hogwarts.

Man, this place had been hard to find! Ichigo had looked all over for the it but he kept missing it. In the end, he had decided to check all the places his senses screamed at him to avoid. A brilliant idea on his part.

"My idea, you shitty King! Us, fear a location? HA!"

"Shut up Shiro."

Ichigo made his way through the grounds. Where were the people? Ichigo would expect the school to be packed but his senses told him there was literally no one inside the school itself, so where-


Ichigo swerved and leapt back. Just in time too as flame blasted where he had stood. Ichigo let his body fall to the ground and drew Zangetsu's short blade.

The giant lizard eyed him wearily.

Was… Was that a dragon? Holy shit, dragons were real? Then again, Ichigo was a spirit warrior capable of leveling a country. He really shouldn't be that surprise-

"Oiy, ash face! I am your opponent, you piece of shit dinosaur wannabe!"

Ichigo blinked.

That… That could only be one person. Only one person that he knew would speak like that. Okay, maybe two. Ichigo seriously didn't want to know what would happen if Kenpachi and Grimmjow ever met. He would avoid it at all costs. It really wouldn't be pretty.

The dragon snarled and twisted its head around… Only for a foot to smash into it's side. Ichigo watched as the figure that could only be a mini Grimmjow- when had the other gotten so short?- darted away. The dragon hissed and chased after him.

All Ichigo could do was follow.

Grimmjow was… Leading the dragon into an arena? An arena, seriously? Ichigo glanced up. Huh. Found the people, he suppos-

"Ichigo! ATTACK!"

Wait, what?

Ichigo turned just as a freaking cat, of all things, shot forth and smashed into the dragon's head. The dragon cried out loudly, spitting sparks at the cat. The little orange cat. The little orange cat that Grimmjow had apparently named after him…

Ichigo twitched.

Then, while the dragon was distracted, Grimmjow fell from the sky with Panthera in his hands. Ichigo winced. This would not be pretty. Grimmjow would kill the poor dragon. Normally, it would be the other way around, but Grimmjow against a dragon? Please. The dragon stood absolutely no chance-

Flame exploded everywhere and Ichigo jumped.

Had Grimmjow… Had Grimmjow just been burned alive?

The crowd seemed to agree for they cried out, but then-

The dragon was blasted back before it landed with a thud. There stood Grimmjow, burns here and there, stick in his hands, panting. Wait… Panting? Holy shit. Getting turned into a human must have really depowered Grimmjow…


Then, the crowd burst into cheers. Grimmjow smirked and waved like a mad man.

Ichigo twitched. He took a step. Two. Three. Slowly, people began to notice the strange orange haired teenager wearing Japanese style robes carrying two massive swords.

Grimmjow froze before turning to meet his gaze.

"Oh, hey berry! It's been a while!"

"You named your fucking cat after me?" Ichigo yelled.

"Well, he's all cute and cuddly and orange and dangerous, so yup. Ichigo!" Grimmjow called. Ichigo watched in disbelief as his apparent counterpart leaped into Grimmjow's arms, purring in content. He twitched again before shaking his head.

Honestly… The things he did for Neliel.

Chapter Text

A/N: The poll now has 106 people. Wow. And, of course, a few numbers I mentally add that people vote on through reviews/comments. And, The Book Thief finally has a vote! :) for the record, that was my favorite book of all time. Yeah, yeah, Harry Potter, blah. This is actually my third favorite book series. In order, The Book Thief(which is totally not a series, but whatever), Percy Jackson, then Harry Potter.

So, question. Does anyone else not like the canon Bleach pairings? Spoiler alert, but I was never an IchiHime fan. I mean, it was there and I didn't dislike it, I was more of a meh to it. Renji/Rukia, though, always reminded me as a pair of brother and sister so yuck. As such, I won't write that one. It screams incest to me, so sorry if it's what you guys like. I do like IchiRuki. Ironically, I also like IchiGrim, although I do prefer them as friends. Hell, I might write a one shot doing both if I ever get the time.

One more chapter planned for this segment. Also, I've made references to another awesome anime. Guess?

Also, I apologize for the late posting. I was sick most of the week. I did have some of it finished last Friday, but I had to sleep early because I work at 5. Then, I got home and intended to finish the chapter but… I'm convinced my brother has infected me. The foul creature. Brothers are evil, you see. But I'm great now! :)

Published: 10/1/2016

Warnings: I did say Spoilers. Although, saying that word always reminds me of River.

Chapter 12

Grimmjow Part 3

If Dumbledore had reason be be troubled by the actions of young Harry before, his current actions blew all doubts from the Headmaster's mind

Absolutely nothing of such a dark nature could enter Hogwarts without being specially protected against his vision without Dumbledore noticing. The Diary, sadly, had slipt his sight. That in itself was not shocking. Tom Riddle had been a genius alumni. Warding his own personal diary to the point where even the Headmaster was not aware of its true dark nature was no shock.

As it was, Dumbledore knew from the moment that the orange haired teenager had walked onto the school grounds that he was not a human. No… Whatever that boy was, it was far older, far eviler, and made even a Dementor pale in comparison.

It was twisted. Something of the dark. From the shadowy corners of the earth, a being of such vileness that for a second, Dumbledore had believed Voldemort himself had decided to infiltrate the school again. But no. This child… This thing disguised as a child, Dumbledore reminded himself, stunk of an aura far worse than Voldemort. It was like looking into the death of magic itself.

It had reminded him of when Voldemort had actually 'infiltrated' the school.

… That incident, Dumbledore actually had noticed, but had let it slide. Perhaps Tom would be calmer after getting the opportunity to finally teach? Well, that, and the stone had been bait for a reason. Dumbledore had hoped to test young Harry.

He had been severely disappointed.

Unfortunately, Voldemort had taken the bait. Dumbledore had orchestrated events so that young Harry would have a chance to prove himself, to prove his true Gryffindor colors, to stop the Dark Lord, but alas! Instead, well… Quirrell had escaped with the Philosopher's Stone in hand.

Dumbledore had only just managed to fend off a rather furious Nicholas Flamel. In other news, Nicholas Flamel wasn't exactly amongst the breathing anymore as his remaining Elixir of Life had already run its course. Their parting had not ended in the best of ways and, to be frank, only the power of Dumbledore's wand kept him from being overwhelmed by his senior.

Harry had failed with the Philosopher's Stone. Truly, he had. Dumbledore had wondered if he had put his stock in the wrong boy. Perhaps, just maybe, it was Neville Longbottom's fate, but no.

Dumbledore now knew it could only be Harry Potter, for Harry Potter had seen the possessed Ginny Weasley and instantly known that he was staring into the face of Lord Voldemort, albeit a younger version.

Of course… This brought a worse question to mind.

Harry had known of Ginny. He had known instinctively. He had looked at her once and realized the truth. Which meant… Which meant…

"Why've you called us, Dumbledore!" Alastor Moody snapped out.

Ah, his old friend. Dumbledore, at first, had been concerned about Moody's behavior but that had faded as the year went on. Moody had always been a cautious one. And paranoid, too. Greatest Auror of their age, Alastor might be but considering he had freaked out over a cat during the summer break, well…

Actually, Dumbledore hoped Harry never learned of it. If there was one thing Dumbledore did not doubt, it was the boy's complete and utter passion for cats.

"I fear there is an issue we must address. I… I have come to the conclusion that Harry Potter has either… Joined the dark," the words were a bitter taste in the Headmaster's mouth. Around him, the Order gasped, "Or worse… He will become the next Dark Lord."


Then, to Dumbledore's surprise, Molly Weasley stood. The Order was silent as the mother of seven made her way around the table until she stood before their leader. The two stared each other down.

Molly's face twisted into a look of utter disgust before she backhanded the Headmaster, hard.


With that declaration, Molly Weasley stormed out.

To Dumbledore's utter shock and dismay, so did half the Order. However, to Dumbledore's relief, a good chunk of them remained. Still… It seemed Harry Potter's influence over the Wizarding World was already stronger than Dumbledore had feared.

"Now," Dumbledore began, eyeing the remaining loyal members of the Order of the Phoenix, the only true hope from the world, "I will explain my reasoning and why I believe Potter must be stopped. We must hurry. There is little time. By now, I am confident that the Dark Lord has already risen again. Should the pair truly form an alliance, well… It won't be just a threat to Britain. No. They will become a threat to the world as a whole."


Upon entering the Gryffindor dormitory Grimmjow unexpectedly found himself tackled by a small green haired child. The rest of Gryffindor, who had been waiting for their champion so they could start the party, watched in surprise.

Ichigo blinked.

"Since when are you and Nel-" he began.

"We aren't! OFF, BRAT!"

There were several gasps as their hero, their champion, their dragon slayer kicked the little girl that had dared pounce on him. Nel went flying, bouncing off the floor repeatedly before landing on her butt. The little girl blinked several times before bursting into tears, earning Grimmjow glares.

Grimmjow, however, ignored it as he stomped into the room, before he glared at Ichigo as the orange-head smacked him before moving to pick up Nel.

"There, there. Did that meany hurt you?"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes.

"That isn't a little girl, Kurosaki. You know as well as I do that she only chooses to look like one. That girl's older than everyone here combined." Grimmjow motioned to the many, many people in the room. Was that Luna Lovegood wearing a Panther head? Nice!

This gained him skeptical looks. Well, skeptical and 'are you batshit crazy?' looks. Grimmjow ignored them as he made his way forward.

Ichigo glared.

"Nel loses her memories whenever she gets turned back into a child, Gri- Harry." Ichigo amended. That new name would take some getting used to. "She doesn't remember being olde-"

"Did Ichygo call me old?"

Ichigo froze.


Ichigo fell over with a groan.

Why… Why… Why did Nel always have to aim there, of all places?

"You know… I felt sorry for the brat at first, but… She's obviously as insane as Potter…"

"Dean, I swear to Merlin, he can hear you!"

"... So?"

"Ichigo. Attack."


Grimmjow's schedule didn't actually change that much. He just had a new person to annoy, bug, and mess around with everyday, which was always fun.

To Grimmjow's disgust, Ichigo had apparently lose approximately half his power. Grimmjow himself had lost two thirds of his own when he'd had the displeasure of getting reincarnated. And, while he might have recently figured out how to summon Panthera, well...

"You know, I can finally see why you liked fighting me so much back then!" Ichigo declared with a grin, hefting Zangetsu into the air and resting the blade against his shoulder.

From the ground, a twitching Grimmjow covered in smoke, bruises, cuts, and blood, lifted his hand. Ichigo laughed loudly as the former Espada flipped him off.


"What do you mean Ichigo has gone missing!"

Ever since the end of the war, things had been, well… They had been tense back at the Soul Society. Rukia and the rest of the Captains and Lieutenants of the Gotei Thirteen had spent the last couple of months preventing Central 46 from ordering the annihilation of Ichigo Kurosaki and Uryu Ishida. Bureaucratic bastards that literally do nothing but sit on their assess all day while the Gotei Thirteen actually act tend to be like that.

The fact remained, however, that Ichigo and Uryu had succeeded in a task that even the Soul King Guard had failed at. The Soul King's person guardians had been slaughtered by Yhwach and his elite Quincy Soldiers, the Schutzstaffel, who were basically the elite of the Sternritters.

Ichigo and Uryu had managed what they could not. A force more powerful than the Gotei Thirteen combined could not defeat Yhwach. Yamamoto had not only failed, he had been stripped of his powers by the Quincy Emperor.

Yet, two humans with Quincy blood flowing in their veins had manages what they could not. They had even teamed up with Aizen, of all people, to do it and, well…

The only reason an order for Ichigo's execution hadn't been ordered following the Winter War was due to the loss of his powers. Loss of powers meant Ichigo was no longer a threat. This time, however, well…

Ichigo Kurosaki definitely still had Soul Reaper powers. On top of that, Rukia could confirm he still had Hollow powers, not that she bothered to inform Central 46.

It was only with the Vizards and their respective squads threatening to enact a full blown Civil War that prevented Central 46 from ordering the deaths of Ichigo and Uryu, but now, well, now there was another issue at hand that put all that into jeopardy.

"What is that bastard thinking, running off at a time like this!" Renji slammed his fists down. "Doesn't he know the situation?"

Kyoraku snorted. The cheerful teasing light Rukia had come to remember the captain for no longer shown in his eyes. His best friend was dead. Yamamoto was dead. Unohana, while she and Koryaku had never been on the best of terms, had been the only other living Shinigami from his era, and she was dead too. Honestly, Rukia was convinced that the only thing keeping that man going was Nanao. She was literally all that he had left.

"Obviously, the kid doesn't know the situation. Like always… We've kept him out of the loop."

"Idiotic if you ask me." Shinji spoke, "that kid's smarter than you people give him credit for."

Kenpachi, of all people, gave Shinji a look.

"That brat gets along with that Hollow perfectly now. I should know. I spar with him. The fact that he enjoys fighting with me instead of running like he used to speaks volumes over how much influence that thing has over him."

Rukia blinked.

Had… Had Kenpachi made an actual point? Had he… Had he actually said something that didn't involve fight, blood, battle, fight? Not that Captain Zaraki was stupid, but, well… He had killed Captain Unohana to prove his strength in the moment they had needed her most. Rukia wasn't sure how many people had died because their best healer had been eliminated.

"I get along with my Hollow." Kensei shrugged, only to get smacked by Hiyori.

"You idiot! You only just learned to get along with that thing, and you've had it for over a hundred years! Ichigo, on the other hand-"

"Has always been a unique spiritual presence." the Head Captain interrupted. Eyes turned to Kyoraku as he rested his elbows on the table, eyes narrowed in thought. "Lieutenant Kuchki and Arabi!"


"Normally, I would send the pair of you out to find Kurosaki. You do, after all, know him best. However… If we do that, then Central 46 will surely catch on. You see the difficulty here, correct?"

Rukia fidgeted in her seat. She understood all right, but… But… This was Ichigo! However, Captain Kyoraku also had a point. Rukia was currently the highest ranking officer in Squad 13. Byakuya would question it if Renji suddenly disappeared. Well, he'd probably turn a blind eye as he was to this whole meeting because, as head of the Kuchiki Clan, Byakuya was bound to tell Central 46 all he knew.

Byakuya could not speak of anything he did not personally know, after all.

Still, though…

"If you don't mind me asking then," Renji spoke up, "Who exactly do you plan on sending? We're down manpower. Anyone that goes missing will be noticed." Renji pointed out.


Then, as one, all eyes in the room turned to their guests. Or, more specifically, a certain blond.

Hayori froze in the process of stuffing her face with the snacks that had been provided.



"Oh hell no! I am not looking for that shit head! If he wants to be lost, that's his business!"

Ichigo sighed.

What was he even doing here anymore?

Okay, yeah, he had wanted to confirm if Grimmjow was alive. And he was. The Arrancar was just fine. Ichigo had confirmed it. Nel was happy. She'd been pretty bummed after the end of the final battle. Nel had tried to save Urahara, Yoruichi, and Grimmjow from Askin's dying attack, but she had failed. All three of them had died. Nel had felt terrible about that. She had brought them all here and, in the end, she'd done nothing.

But now, Grimmjow was alive and well and apparently reincarnation was still weird since he got sent back in time a few years. That wasn't so unusual from what Ichigo understood. The Precipice world had a habit of fucking with time like it was nobodies business. It was how Ichigo had matched Aizen, after all, just as Aizen had intended all along.

Aizen was so weird.

Anyways, Ichigo no longer had any business in Hogwarts. He had found out what he wanted to find. So, he should just go back now. That was the logical thing to do. The adult thing to do. Except…

"So, Shinigami. Why are you still here?" Grimmjow managed to pant out. As always, their spars had ended with Grimmjow covered in wounds, grinning like a madman while Ichigo stood on the sidelines. Well, stood on the sidelines with a broken arm. Whatever seal had been used on Grimmjow was starting to crack, and fast. While before there would be short bursts, that alone would not be enough for Grimmjow to actually scratch Ichigo. This time he had.

Which is why Grimmjow wouldn't stop smirking. Ichigo rolled his eyes. That stupid cat was acting as if he'd won the fight instead of the other way around.

Then, he remembered he was suppose to reply. Oh. Right. That.

"It's a lot calmer over here. And beating the shit out of you is fun."

Ichigo actually had to dodge a Killing Curse. That asshole!

They had put Bushy into the lake.

They put Bushy into the fucking lake.

Grimmjow snarled.

Why… Why… Why did it have to be water? Cats hate water! Still… One of his loyal bitches was down there. Grimmjow could feel it. It was time to make a choice, a-


A foot collided with Grimmjow's ass.


"... Why does no one question who that Orange haired kid is?"

"Because, he's with Potter. Potter is insane. No one questions Potter."

"Does 'arry Potter rule 'zis school?" one of the French students asked.

Looks were exchanged.


"You have,"

"No idea." the Weasley twins spoke.

Grimmjow, of course, got the cup.

He… He really should have listened to his mother. He really should have.

Grimmjow leapt back.


The cup had taken Grimmjow into a rather blatant trap. Unknown to Grimmjow, Voldemort had regained a body long ago. However… There was still one piece he needed to achieve full power, one thing he needed in order for his dark reign to start again, truly.

How had Voldemort regained his body?

Very, very simple…

Grimmjow summoned Panthera, slashing the blade at chains that attempted to bind him. With his free hand, he blasted a Bala at Pettigrew before dodging out of the way of one of Voldemort's curses.

Three against one? Fun! Well… Fun if Voldemort hadn't fucking poisoned him! That cup was laced with something, Grimmjow just knew it.

"I need the boy alive! Take him down… NOW!"

A moment too late Grimmjow realized his leg had been ensnared by one of Quirrell's chains. Yes, Quirrell. Grimmjow knew he should have finished off that fucker when he had had the chance! Now, while many assume Quirrell had been a weak wizard, this was miles from the truth. The man had managed to contain Voldemort, of all people, without dying. The man had been capable of wandless magic on a scale only Voldemort and Dumbledore could surpass. Quirrell, truly, had been one of the most powerful wizards of his generation… And, this time, he had not died.

Grimmjow gasped as he was flung. Spinning in the air, Grimmjow drew his wand before blasting away. Then, he flashed out of the chains before bringing his sword down on the Turban wearing bastard.

Quirrell lifted his hand and Panthera actually struck a barrier. Grimmjow snarled and put as much spiritual energy as he could into the blast.

Fucking seal.

Instinct kicked in.

Grimmjow dodged back as Voldemort began to fire… Grimmjow wasn't sure what those blasts of pure light would do to him and, simply put, he didn't want to find out.

He hisses as teeth bit into his shoulder.

Grimmjow gripped the rat and squeezed. It exploded in a shower of blood that left Grimmjow covered head to toe as Pettigrew became human again in death. Huh. Oops. Sirius was gonna be pisse-

Grimmjow gasped.

"Wha- what... What is…" it didn't take him long to realize, "Poison-" the former Espada collapsed in a heap.

Voldemort walked forward. He eyed the bloody stain that had been Pettigrew with distaste before turning to the boy.

"What shall we do with him, Master?" Quirrell asked.

Voldemort did not speak. Instead, he pondered for several moments. Then, at last, he spoke, "We will extract my Horcrux from him. Then… Then, I shall have not only my own powers, but his, and at last!" Voldemort produced the Philosopher's Stone. Annoyingly, he had to have it on his person at all times. Well, annoying until now. "Tell me, Quirrell, do you know how Flamel forged this stone?"

Quirrell blinked.

"No… No Master, I confess I do not."

Voldemort smirked before meeting the eyes of his slave.

"I thought not. Wizards often care not for Muggle history… There was a very convenient 'plague' that ravaged Europe when Flamel was a young man. So many dead. Hundreds. Thousands. Millions! The humans, dropping like flies! And all those souls… Why let their power go to waste? Of course, Flamel grew hungry and, well…" Voldemort lifted the stone, "It didn't take him long to realize he could coalesce these souls. Suddenly, a disease that would have died out in a decade lasted well over a century."

Quirrell's eyes widened.

"Wait… You mean… The stone, then…"

"Flamel had no sight, however. He only seeked Immortality. I seek much more! He recharged the stone, of course, every so often. The World Wars were such a boon for him… Anyways," Voldemort glanced down at Grimmjow. "Soon… Soon, all the stone's powers will be mine! The final piece has fallen into place."

Then, he smirked.

Oh, yes.

Voldemort would transcend. Voldemort would become supreme. Voldemort would become a god. No, greater than a god, then he would devour them as well! This world, this planet, all of creation… Voldemort would conquer it all! He would rule it all! And, it would all begin here.

Chapter Text

A/N: I have returned! After a year

*scratches head awkwardly and sweat drops*

Hehe… Sorry?


Published: 10/07/17


Warnings: This one gets kinda gruesome. With Mayuri, what do you expect? Why is it always the one that looks like a clown?


Chapter 13

Grimmjow, Part 4


Ichigo knew the exact moment Grimmjow fell. He could feel it, echoing across all of Britain. He could also feel the presence what he could only assume to be Voldemort and, whether Ichigo wanted to admit it to himself or not, he was worried. Scared, even, for a bloody Espada. But, most of all, he was furious.

Furious that he couldn’t be there to help. Furious that Grimmjow, in his weakened state, hadn’t been strong enough to defend himself. Furious, because these wizards actually had the audacity to challenge him.

Furious at himself because they were actually giving him a challenge.

On your right!

Ichigo slashed without bothering to look. If Shiro said there was something there, then there was something there. His Hollow had always had his back, from the very beginning. Sure, it had come in the form of violent possessions which left Ichigo with mental scars he’d never be bothered to admit, but details.

When Muramasa had attacked, Shiro had stood by him, after all, while Zangetsu had turned on him. Although, he supposed that wasn’t a correct statement. Shiro was the real Zangetsu, after all.

Regardless, Ichigo was getting off track.

He was getting off track and getting off track was not a good idea when being attacked by all sides by these infuriating wizards.

Ichigo flashed away and slashed. He’d long ago learned that calling out his attacks, while strengthening them, also alerted the enemy to what he was doing. The Patroni that had been flying at him hissed back, some destroyed by the blast in there entirety while the rest wisped through the air, protecting their casters.

Ichigo could take most of these wizards in his sleep. Most, except the Old Man. Why was it always the old guys who had hidden badass powers?

Okay, so the rest would actually give him some trouble in a one on one fight, Ichigo might concede, but the Old Man actually blocked a Getsuga Tensho with ease. Ichigo’s surprise had nearly cost him. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, obviously, but the careless wave the old fart had batted it aside with had reminded Ichigo briefly of Aizen.

Ichigo snarled. He didn’t have time for this. At the same time, he couldn’t just leave. His body was here, even if he’d stashed it away, and there was no telling what these old crazy fucks could do to it or to him with their weird creepy voodoo sticks.

Stabbing a blade down, Ichigo released his spiritual pressure. He grinned in satisfaction as many of them flinched back. The Old Man and the Cat Lady Version 2.0, however, didn’t waver in the slightest.

Ichigo had to hand it to them. Annoyance aside, that was impressive.

“We don’t have time for this, you crazy maniacs! Harry is in trouble!” Ichigo decided that reason would be the best way to go. He genuinely didn’t want to hurt these people. They ran a school. To them, they were just protecting their charges from what they deemed to be a dangerous and unstable individual. Ichigo got that. It was something he could understand perfectly well. He could and had done the same in the past, willing to do anything to protect those he cared for.

To his shock, the Old Man merely nodded, as if they were just discussing the weather or the latest manga.

“Then things are coming to a close.” He revealed, “Young Harry and Voldemort shall kill each other, as was foretold. Or, one shall walk away and we will eliminate the survivor.”

The others looked grim at the declaration but determined.

Ichigo froze.

This man… Ichigo’s earlier assessment had been correct. Aizen. He was just as twisted as he was.

The Cat Lady looked like she’d swallowed a particularly sour lemon. However, her resolve was palpable, as was the resolve of the other witches and wizards. Ichigo was briefly reminded of the Espada, strong and powerful and loyal to their master.

No, Ichigo realized. Not at all like them.

The Espada all had conflicting personalities, conflicting goals. They had united under a greater power but had still retained their individuality. Even Aizen had not been able to stamp that out of them.

These sycophants, however, were completely subservient to their Master.

Voldemort and Dumbledore were two beasts cut from the same clothe, Ichigo realized, even if they themselves had not. The only difference was the end game each of them had in mind.

Ichigo’s expression hardened.

The only reason his sheer speed hadn’t ripped his opponents apart was because the Old Man seemed to have cast some sort of spell that slowed him down whenever he got near any of them. Effective, but crude. Ichigo, however, was a person that had always operated on the concept of brute force.

He hadn’t wanted to hurt them. They were just doing their jobs. They were just protecting their charges from a previewed threats.

Harry was one of those charges. Sure, Harry was actually Grimmjow and Grimm could take care of himself, but to these people Grimmjow was a fifteen year old boy, not a centuries old spiritual creature from hell.

Not technically hell, but details.

They were willing to condemn one of their charges without a second thought. It made Ichigo’s blood boil in his veins. Briefly, he was reminded of Byakuya before batting aside the idea. Even Byakuya hadn't been this mindless.

Yes, Ichigo had let their position restrain him. Now, he had no such restraints.

Ichigo roared. The wizards flinched back as the spiritual pressure increased. Far away, Ichigo could hear the cries from the arena. It didn’t matter if they saw. It didn’t matter what happened next.

What mattered was Grimmjow who, Ichigo hated to admit, had wormed his way into his heart. Bah. Stupid Espada. Just like that bastard Renji and that annoying fuck Kenpachi. How annoying.

Dumbledore paled as the next words were uttered. Ichigo have a smirk.

“Bankai,” the earth around him blasted away. Dumbledore erect a shield but the rest of his followers were blasted back. A few managed to put up a barrier but it shattered in the face of Ichigo’s pure power. “Tensa Zangetsu.” Ichigo finished. Time to finish this, and fast.



When the smoke cleared, Dumbledore knew then, without a doubt, that he had been right. As the rest of the Order stood alongside him, they realized it as well.

Many of them had still had some lingering doubts. Molly Weasley was a force to be reckoned with and she had let many of them know just how asinine she believed them to be in their condemnation of a minor. Still, they had followed behind Dumbledore because never had Dumbledore steered them astray.

Now, they knew.

The abomination masquerading as a child had tossed aside the facade. What stood before them was a horned beast, grinning maliciously at them, a sword of pure obsidian gripped in its hands. The sclera of the monster's right eye was as dark as the blade, a glowing golden eye, like that of a werewolf's, glaring out at them. The left remained the illusion of humanity, a mockery of all that was good and kind.

The monster grinned at them, baring it’s teeth.

“I’d love to play, but I have other matters to attend, so… I’m finishing this quickly.”

Dumbledore hadn’t bothered dropping his own shield. That was his only respite. As Headmaster, only he could apparate within the Hogwarts grounds. One trick to high level duels was the ability to apparate rapidly to a point where one could see. It was a skill that took years to master, yet this abomination seemed to have no problem performing it, regardless of the wards that should have prevented him from doing so.

As the wards only recognized the Headmaster, only Dumbledore was able to apparate away.

He watched, in dismay, as the monster batted aside the others with ease. To his relief, the beast didn’t seem interested in slashing apart the Order. Instead, it used physical strength to disable them, Muggle fighting techniques.

Then, the monster turned to him after tossing Minerva aside like a ragged doll.

“Your duty is to protect your students, not condemn them! Your sworn duty is to teach and nurture, not decide who gets to live and die! You are a disgrace to your position and I’m disgusted to be breathing the same air as you!”

Dumbledore blinked several times as the words sunk in.

This… This monster was admonishing him. This monster actually had the audacity to admonish him! Any remaining doubts Dumbledore himself had held faded in the fire of his fury. How dare this creature? How dare it!

Dumbledore had, for a brief time, wondered if this Ichigo was like Remus. Werewolves, after all, were dark creatures. This, Dumbledore did not deny. However, they were also dark creatures by force. No one chose to become a werewolf. He had wondered, for a time, if that was what had happened to the horned beast before him now.

His senses, however, had not failed him.

Perhaps this child had not chosen the darkness. Perhaps he had not seeked it out like Tom had. Perhaps the darkness, instead, had chosen him. Dumbledore was willing to concede that point. He was willing to accept that was a very distinct possibility. He could accept that.

However, regardless of whatever circumstances that had turned Ichigo Kurosaki into what he currently was, it was clear the teenager had embraced it.

It is one thing to have darkness forced upon you.

It is another thing altogether to surrender oneself to that darkness, to give in to its seductive call. With a tear in his eyes, Dumbledore realized just how tragic it truly was. Had he found this child earlier, perhaps, he would have been able to prevent this.

However, he had not. Harry had. Harry had done this. Harry really was just like Voldemort before him.

“What the hell, Old Man? What are you crying about now!” the beast snapped.

So much like Remus. A Remus who had embraced the wolf. This, Dumbledore realized, was Fenrir Greyback all over again.

“You’ve surrendered to darkness, my boy,” Dumbledore responded. The monster had the nerve to look annoyed at the proclamation. “I can think of nothing sadder.” Dumbledore declared.

Then, Dumbledore wordlessly lifted his arm and a barrier arose, blocking a flash of bright pink light that smashed into it. He noticed that even the monster seemed momentarily shocked before a look of recognition appeared in those twisted eyes.

Dumbledore, to his eternal chagrin, watched as another child appeared. Small, blond, demonic eyes, dark and gold, a mask adorning her face. A sword, much like Kurosaki’s, held in her hands.

The child landed upon the ground in a crouch, the earth shattering around her. Then, those eyes glared up as she rose to full height.

As Dumbledore could not see her face, he mused she might not be a child at all. He sincerely hoped. Two children, Harry and Ichigo, lost to this new evil was terrible enough. Any more and Dumbledore was not so sure his old heart could take it.

Then, to Dumbledore’s shock, the inexplicable happened.

“You shitty brat! Where the hell have you been! Didn’t you think to at least say goodbye? Couldn’t send a goddamn text message, Kurosaki!”

“Owe! Owe! Get off, Hiyori! Fuck, you bitch, did you just bite me?! Get the hell off!”

The girl had all but ignored Dumbledore after her initial attack and had instead proceeded to jump upon Kurosaki, all while whacking him in the head repeatedly. He finally managed to get her off with a well placed hit. The girl spun in midair before landing gracefully, glaring balefully at Kurosaki. He met the glare full on, and Dumbledore could spear he saw a brief flash of lighting between the two.

A part of Dumbledore was slowly coming to wonder if he had been wrong. Smashing down that ludicrous line of thought, the Headmaster brandished his wand.

“Enough of this! I will not have creatures such as the pair of you, who have surrendered yourself to the darkness, within my school! I will not allow such danger near my students!”

The two stopped glaring at another to look at Dumbledore in surprise.

Then, Kurosaki’s face twisted in disgust.

“Who the hell do you think you are, ranting about the safety of your students! The first day I showed up here there was a goddamn dragon loose on the school grounds! Never mind the rest of the bullshit Harry told me you’ve pulled!”

The girl perked.

“There are dragons here?”

Dumbledore could have sworn he saw stars in her eyes. Kurosaki looked startled.

“You like dragons?”

“Of course! Who doesn’t like dragons!”

Dumbledore wasn’t going to stare a gift horse in the mouth. Without warning, Dumbledore cast a powerful wandless Patroni. Kurasaki had learned and leaped back without a second thought as a silver Phoenix ripped the area.

The girl, however, was hit straight on.

With a scream, she was blasted away.

“Hiyori!” Kurosaki, apparently, had the ability to fly. Then, those twisted eyes turned back to Dumbledore. “You’ll pay for tha-

He froze. Dumbledore couldn’t blame him. So did he.

A pillar of pink energy ripped into the sky. Dumbledore paled as his target rose. With shock, he watched as his new opponent literally tore his Patronus to shreds. Then, she took a step forward, eyes glaring.

Brandishing that sword, she spoke.

“Butcher them, Kubikiri Orochi.”

The sword transformed before Dumbledore’s very eyes. He had heard tales of blades such as this. It was even rumored that the famed sword of Gryffindor had a similar ability, but that had never been confirmed.

The katana became a large cleaver like blade, the edges of it serrated. The monster rested the sword against her shoulder and grinned.

“Let me take care of him. It’s been awhile since I’ve had a good nice bloody fight.” she was grinning. In the confusion, Dumbledore hadn’t noticed, but her mask was gone. Truly, another child had been lost to the darkness, this one even younger than Harry or Kurosaki.

Dumbledore felt a part of him shatter.

No matter.

Heart harding, Dumbledore reminded himself of what he had always known. The Good of the many came above the good of the few. It was the same thing he had reminded himself of when he had struck down Gellert despite his love for him, the same thing he had reminded himself of when he had allowed young Harry to be taken in by the Dursleys, the same thing he had reminded himself when he had condemned Sirius Black to Azkaban without trial.

In another life, it was the same thing he told himself when he arranged his own execution at the hands of Severus.

Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed.

Kurosaki seemed conflicted. He didn’t want to leave the girl, it seemed. On the other hand, Dumbledore could tell, he wanted to go help Harry. A part of him again wondered if he had made a mistake but Dumbledore tossed it aside. Even if he had, he had already chosen his path and there was no turning back.

Noticing his hesitation, the girl, Hiyori Dumbledore remembered, growled.

“Get going, Kurosaki! Whatever Jaegerjaquez’s gotten himself into, it’s worse than this temper tantrum throwing child! I’ll take care of him! Go!” she commanded.

It took Dumbledore several moments to realize that the little girl before him was calling him a child. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but be offended. Noticing his look, the girl grinned.

“I’m older than you can imagine, little boy. I remember the days of this school’s founding.” the girl stated with a casual shrug. Dumbledore might have believed her if not for the deadpan expression Kurosaki sent her.

“You sure?” Kurosaki asked.

The girl responded by blasting a ball of pink energy at him, energy that Dumbledore recognized from the day Harry broke the Mirror of Erised. Different color, same spell.

Kurosaki batted it aside. One last glare at Dumbledore, and he was gone.

Grinning, the girl lifted the blade and pointed it straight at Dumbledore.

“Now, little boy,” Dumbledore resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “let’s finish this!”

With a snarl, she was on him faster than he would have imagined.

All the pieces were set.

The loss of Pettigrew was lamentful. True, he had been pathetic and weak, but Voldemort had no better spy, not even Severus. Yes, Severus was infiltrated the Order of the Phoenix on Voldemort’s command, but Pettigrew had been the true gem, bringing Voldemort every scrap of information he could possibly desire, culminating in the location of the Potters.

Voldemort rewarded such loyalty.

Let it not be said that Voldemort was not kind to those that followed him. His cruelty was reserved for the fools that failed him.

Before him, Potter was bound with both chains at the stone of a reaper, holding a scythe to his throat. The irony was not lost on Voldemort.

Voldemort had had years to learn so much of his opponent.

After gaining the Philosopher’s Stone, Voldemort had quickly realized there was a link between him and his nemesis. Tracing back the link, it had, Voldemort would never admit, taken him an embarrassingly amount of time to realize what Potter was. But, when he had, he couldn’t help but toss his head back and laugh.

The hero of the Wizarding World made Dementors look benevolent.

The hero of the Wizarding World also held a piece of Voldemort’s very existence locked upon his skull. The runes were drawn. Everything was as it should be.

There was just one little hitch in the plan. Quirinus spun at the new presence but Voldemort didn’t bother and instead kept chanting. The ritual was almost complete. If Quirrel knew what was good for him, he would deal with the newcomer on his own.

Quirinus was not entirely sure what to think. They had been expecting Kurosaki, or wizards, if anything. This, however, was not something they had planned for. Even then, if Kurosaki had arrived Quirinus had been willing to lay down his life for his Master. This strange man before him, however, might be just as dangerous.

“Well, well, well. Interesting set up. Most fascinating.”

The one thing he and his Master had not anticipated, however, was a bloody clown. Hands clapped. Mayuri grinned, eyes dancing with madness.

“Initially, I came to this place when I learned an Espada had been reborn as a wizard! Such an odd development, I just had to know why! Then I came across you! Oh, so much more interesting then that bland creature you have tied up,” Mayuri dismissed Potter with a casual wave of his hand.

The Master, of course, did not respond despite obviously being addressed. He was too busy chanting. Most magic did not require chants, but some of the older arts did, ancient rituals before the modern development of wands and channeling magic through focus items.

The clown frowned.

“How rude,” he declared before lifting his hand. A wandless blast of magic sprung from the clowns’ fingertips. Quirinus blocked the attack before advancing with a growl. The clown only grinned.

“Oh, the pawn! Come, pawn!”

Quirinus raised his hand to attack only for a gasp to pass his lips.


Slowly, eyes looked down.

“Silly, silly human. You’re of no interest to me! Begone!”

The voice came from behind him. The clown was behind him. Somehow, the clown had gotten behind him. Someone, the clown had slashed him as well, for what else could explain the explosion of blood as Quirinus fell.


He had failed.

He had failed his Master.

He had...

“Oh, the pawn! Come, pawn!”

Quirinus frowned. What magic was this? A quick glance behind revealed Master was still chanting. Perhaps… Yes, that’s what it was. Master needed him to survive. Master needed Quirinus to aid him.  The Power of the Stone was likely what had reversed his execution.

He would be ready this time. He-

“Silly, silly human. You’re of no interest to me! Begone!”

Quirinus felt himself fly. For some odd reason, he was far lighter than he remembered. Eyes darting out, he saw the clown standing before a body, sword outstretched. The body was headless and even as Quirinus watched, even as the world spun around him, it didn’t take long to realize.

The body was his.

Quirinus screamed.

“Oh, the pawn! Come, pawn!”

What was this? Master… Quirinus had always known his Master was unforgiving of failure. How idiotic of him.

No more failures.

Avada Kedavra!

The clown frowned as a green light collided with his chest. Looking down, he patted himself a few times before looking up. Quirinus trembled.

“Was that suppose to do something?”

Quirinus gasped. The clown was closer. The clown was grinning. The clown had his hand shoved into his chest.

“Silly, silly human. You’re of no interest to me! Begone!”

“Oh, the pawn! Come, pawn!”

“Silly, silly human. You’re of no interest to me! Begone!”

“Oh, the pawn! Come, pawn!”

“Silly, silly human. You’re of no interest to me! Begone!”

“Oh, the pawn! Come, pawn!”

“Silly, silly human. You’re of no interest to me! Begone!”

“Oh, the pawn! Come, pawn!”

“Silly, silly human. You’re of no interest to me! Begone!”

“Oh, the pawn! Come, pawn!”

Quirinus screamed. Falling to his knees, hands gripping his skull, wand all but forgotten, he screamed again and again. The clown looked disappointed.

“Well, you broke quicker than expect-

The magic around them exploded. Quirinus turned in that moment, realizing that this would be his Master’s ascent. This was the moment they had all been fighting for. This-

A hand gripped his skull. Quirinus was forced to look up as hungry red eyes bore into his own. There was nothing to think after that. There was nothing of Quirinus left to think after that.

Grimmjow awoke with a scream. Great pants escaped his lips. What…

Looking around, Grimmjow realized he was behind held in the arms of a reaper. A stone reaper. How offensive. With a growl, he tore himself out before blinking.

It was back! His strength was back! Grimmjow’s expression turned feral.

The seal was gone! Today was going great! Oh sure, he had keep kidnapped by some insane megalomaniac and had been forced into what he was pretty sure was some sort of fucked up Satanic ritual, but he was alive and he was back, baby!

That was when reality caught up to him. Looking up, Grimmjow was met with a sight that strung a pang of fear even in his heart.

Grimmjow gripped at it as a moment of rage ripped through him at his own weakness.

Voldemort tossed Mayuri Kurotsuchi aside without a second thought. The Captain’s body rolled on the ground before coming to a rest, eyes glassy and very obviously dead. Said body then began to break away into dark flakes which flew away in the wind like ash.

Then, those red eyes turned towards him.

“Haaaarry… Potttttter…”

It didn’t take Grimmjow long to figure out what happened. Somehow, impossibly, from him Voldemort had gained the ability to drain and feast upon spiritual energy, much like a Hollow. However, Grimmjow had been reborn as a Wizard which added magic as a factor. Considering Quirrell's corpse looked like it had been drained of every last drop of substance, Grimmjow could only conclude Voldemort had drained him as well.

There was only one word in this sort of situation.


Voldemort had apparently lost his mind. From what Grimmjow could tell, that twisted bastard had definitely succeeded in his quest for power. Loathe as Grimmjow was to admit it, he couldn't fell the other’s spiritual pressure properly anymore. Against most opponents, Grimmjow would assume they were weak but he knew better.

He had, after all, served Aizen.

He didn’t have time to ponder of wonder.

“Gring, Panthe-”

Then, to his amazement, Voldemort screeched as he suddenly vanished from sight. Mayuri, of all people, stood there, holding a box in victory.

“He he, he he! Such a marvelous specimen! I can’t wait to take it back to the laboratory!”

Without bothering to spare a second word to the Espada, the Shinigami Captain was gone.

“What,” Grimmjow spun, “In the fuck just happened here?”



Ichigo had the gall to roll his eyes.

“I was busy. Sheesh.”

Grimmjow blasted the thrice damned Shinigami with a well placed Cero. Anger fading, Grimmjow glanced around and swore. Mother had been right. Of course, she had been right. And, if she had been right, that fool Mayuri had no idea what he was getting himself into.

It seemed things were finally coming to an explosive close.

A/N: You know, I’ve had lots of fun writing this arc. So far, it’s my favorite. I’m actually considering turning it into another spin off, except Harry will either stay as Grimmjow or I might make him Ichigo. I’m divided.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter Text

A/N: I was pretty divided on this one. There are so many interesting characters in Naruto to chose from, so I started narrowing it down until I managed to get down to four. I wondered if I should go for Gaara, Kakashi, Kushina or Minato. In the end, I went for Gaara, but it was a pretty close call.

For those of you waiting for a Grimmjow update, I decided to actually make another spin off for that one since I was having so much fun with it. There'll be a few changes, of course, to keep things interesting. Number one will be to give Eren a bigger role, so its kinda gonna be a three way crossover. It'll mostly be Bleach and Harry Potter, though

Published: 11/05/2017

Warnings: None


1st: Naruto (55 Votes)

2nd: Katekyo Hitman Reborn (47 Votes)

3rd: Bleach (45 Votes)

4th: Percy Jackson (40 Votes)

5th: Assassin's Creed, Deadpool(Movie), (35 Votes)

6th: Final Fantasy VII (34 Votes)

7th: Doctor Who, Fullmetal Alchemist (33 Votes)

8th: Avengers (30 Votes)

9th: Fairy Tail (29 Votes)

10th: Devil May Cry, Supernatural (27 Votes)

Chapter 14

Gaara: Part 1

It's the Mirror that wakes him.

When Harry Potter had arrived at Hogwarts, he had blown through so many misconceptions, so many false beliefs that they all held about their so called savior. The small redheaded boy had such a fierce aura about him, deadly and licking about.

Daring them to step forward, daring them to try something.

Daring them to get themselves killed.

Despite the rings around his eyes that always gave him a look of utter exhaustion, Harry Potter was a force to be reckoned with. Everyone acknowledged that now after Harry had left two Fourth Year Gryffindors in the Hospital Wing because they had tried to attack him.

Why had they tried, you ask?

For one simple, tiny reason.

The second the hat had been placed on Harry's head, it chuckled.

"Oh ho. One of your kind. Always my favorite."

"... What?" Harry muttered back, confused. He wasn't even all that perturbed by a voice speaking in his head. If anything, it felt natural. Felt like a piece of him that had been missing all along, which wasn't something he understood. People weren't suppose to want to hear voices in their heads, after all.

"And you haven't awoken yet. Hm. Let's see… Hm. Aha! I see. I see! Only one place would suit you, my dear boy."

"Anything but Slytherin. I'll tear you to shreds, hat." Harry threatened.

But, the hat merely chortled.

"Oh, my boy, your threats mean nothing to me. I've seen in your heart. And, really, there is only one place for you in a place like this."


The entire school gives a collective gasp. All the chatter stops as silence reigns upon them. A beat. Two.

Then, with a snarl, Harry rises and ripped the hat of his head.

"I said anywhere but there, you psychotic piece of wardrobe failure!" Harry shook the hat. Several people sweatdropped. And so it was that Harry Potter was sorted into Slytherin.

It doesn't take very long at all.

In fact, it happens before Harry even leaves the Great Hall. He can hear them. The whispers. The rumors. The fear. The glares. The come from every direction, all around him. They come from his fellow Slytherins, they come from the rest of the Hall that glowers at him.

They even come from the staff table as several of the teachers look uncomfortable. Harry is disgusted to note Hagrid is among that group.

A few of the older Slytherin give him predatory stares.

This was not what Harry had wanted, but that damned hat had put him here anyways against his wishes. Harry was still contemplating ways to murder it, slowly and painfully. He'd have to be careful, of course. At this point, the staff were well of Harry's rather justified loathing for that wretched piece of cloth. Obviously, the damn thing was trying its damn best to get him killed.

Then, the boy from the train, Ron if Harry remembers correctly stands. Face red with fury, the boy points dramatically at Harry. Harry arches a single eyebrow as the boy begins to screech.

"Traitor! Dark Lord in training!"

Then, the hall explodes after him.

Harry rolls his eyes. Oh. Joy. This was going to be oh so much fun. It was like being back in Suna all over again. No matter. Their hatred and their labeling of him as a demon aside, Harry was determined to follow his path, the blonds. He'd win them over eventually-

Harry blinked.


For a moment, he remembered a wide smirking whiskered, shinning blue eyes like the skies, and Harry's heart skipped a beat.

Then, the first spell flies. In the corner of his eyes, Harry can see Dumbledore at last rise, ready to put everything to order.


Too little, too late.

Sand rises to Harry's defense and the spell shatters harmlessly against it. Everyone freezes. Then, popping a grape into his mouth, Harry glares around at the dumbfounded expressions around him.

He hadn't lifted a hand. He hadn't said a word. Not a wave of his hand. Just pure instinctive magic that, at long last, explained the strange gourd he carried on his back.

Harry glowered at them all.

"Attack me again, and I'll meet you with equal force." Harry declared. Then, without another word, he rose and departed. Wordlessly, the doors of the Great Hall slammed behind Harry as he made his way out.

Then, the chattering began again, louder and more agitated than before, if that was at all possible.

The students all froze as the doors slammed opened again and Harry strode back into the room.

"Ano… Where is our dormitories?" the redheaded boy asked sheepishly, scratching his head.

Several people fell over at the statement.

Neville screams. He can't control it. He can't. He can't!

"Longbottom! Get down this instant!"

Doesn't that old hag understand that, if he could, he would have already?! Neville wasn't floating up here of his own volition, after all! But no. Instead, the instructor screeches as if Neville's planned the whole thing beforehand.

He wants to get down.


He needs to get down!

This… Neville remembers falling. He remembers Uncle Alfie, snarling and telling him he's better dead than a squib. He remembers how no one batted an eye, how instead they had cheered because Neville had survived, Neville had bounced, Neville had magic.

He didn't feel very magical at the moment. Not at all.

He doesn't think he can do it.

Not again.

So, when he slips and falls, Neville fully expects to hit the ground with a splat. There useless instructor can't even be bothered casting a cushioning charm, after all.

Which is why he's surprised when instead of plummeting, his back hits something gentle. Like a cloud, hugging itself against him, but warm.

Warm… Like…

He remembers the one time his Grandma took him to the beach. The sun was glistening above and the sand had felt so warm and the water so cool and he had played for hours and-

"Don't worry. I've got you."

Neville nods. It takes a moment for the shock to fade and, when it does, Neville realizes what happened. There could only be one person. One person alone. His eyes light with panic. Then, he hears a scream.

"He's trying to kill him! In front of all of us! I knew it! Slimy Slytherin!"

Ron. The mean redheaded boy in his dorm. Well, mean isn't the right word. Hot headed. Yeah, that's better. Ron's never said a cruel word to him, but his rants against Harry Potter are the stuff of legend.

"Don't be daft, Ronald! He stopped Neville's fall!"

Hermione. Smart, snobbish, bookish Hermione. Neville wonders how she wasn't but in Ravenclaw. He wonders how he wasn't put in Hufflepuff.

Then, dark eyes stare at him.

Harry. Harry Potter.

Neville screams. Potter gives him a disappointed look and he sand drops him. Luckily, not too far from the ground. Neville doesn't even get a scrape. Ron is screaming again and the other Gryffindor boys join him, but Neville isn't listening.

Instead, all he sees is the sad look Potter shoots him before he stalks off before realizing that this, right here, was why he wasn't in Hufflepuff.

Most people believed that Hufflepuff was the house of the rejects. The house that took in all others when they didn't meet the standards the founders had set. Neville, however, knew better.

It wasn't because he was brave and strong like his parents. It wasn't because he had nerve, or because he was chivalrous. It wasn't because of any daring or courage on his part.

No. It was because he wasn't loyal enough.

Hermione Granger screamed as the club came down. Crouched down in the corner of the bathroom, she gripped her head as death came down upon her. This was it. This was the end. She should never have come here. She should never have convinced her parents to send her to this twisted place.

Why she had wanted to was beyond her.

The children here weren't any different from the children everywhere else. If anything, they were worse. Children are mean and children are spiteful and Hermione felt alone. So alone.

Which, in the normal world, meant she could go and cry in the bathroom, but of course, the Wizarding World just wasn't normal so a goddamn Troll was about to make her into a pancake!


It hadn't.

Hermione heard the troll give a grunt before curiosity got the best of her. Eyes glancing up, she noticed that instead of a wooden club, all she could see was sand. Wait… Sand?

"Get. Away. From. Her."

Hermione screamed again as the troll was flung back. There, standing at the entrance of the bathroom, was Harry Potter. Eyes scrunched in concentration, Harry had his hands focused towards the troll, which Hermione could now see was being held back by sand. Sweat fell from the boy's brow before he looked to her.

"Granger! Run!"

Hermione, however, couldn't. Instead, she just sat there frozen from the shock, frozen from the fear, completely unable to move.

Then, the troll snarled as it broke free.

"Kuso!" Potter yelled out.

Hermione flinched back as the troll swung at her again. Except, it didn't hit. Eyes looking up, Hermione realized Potter had somehow made his way in front of her. The sand was blocking blow after blow, defending them against the creature, but from the way Potter was wincing she wasn't sure how much longer he could last.

Then, the doors to the bathroom blasted open as Albus Dumbledore marched in. Hermione gave a sigh of relief as Dumbledore waved his wand and a bright flash of burning crimson shot out from the tip. The troll gave one last howl before collapsing.

Harry Potter then let his hands fall to the side. He trembled for a moment before falling face first to the ground, loud snores escaping him as exhaustion won out.

When Harry comes across the mirror, it all comes crashing down.

This year had not been kind. Harry wasn't sure why he was surprised by that, or disappointed by it.

His sand had always risen to his defense. Harry had learned that early on. It wasn't something he consciously did. The sand, of its own will, protected him. A barrier that kept him safe from harm against all threats. Against his relatives, against bullies, and now, against his fellow students.

He had been a freak and monster back on Privet Drive. And now, he was a freak and a monster here as well.

It was his fate. His destiny, Harry realized. Images of the blond boy sometimes crossed his mind, but they were becoming harder to remember. Harder to grasp. That smile was fading from his mind.

Fading, as the solitude washed over him, over and over and over again.

Until he found it again.

Harry took several steps back. The cloak, which had apparently belonged to his father, tossed carelessly at his feet. Eyes wide, Harry could only stare.

He saw… He saw himself. Himself, but he was older. He wore red robes of some kind and he was laughing. There was that blond boy, from his dreams. There was a boy with his face painted all colors. A girl with a fan adorned across her back. There was a boy with his arms around her shoulders with a pineapple haircut. Another boy wearing the most ridiculous spandex suit Harry had ever seen.

Then, his parents standing in the background. All three of them.



Gaara gripped his head.



Gaara collapsed in a heap. The pain. The pain is too much. Too much. It hurts!




Gaara screamed. It felt like something in him was breaking, something vital, something important.


Suddenly, it all ends with one last push. Eyes snapping open, Gaara blinks slowly as he rises from the floor. Hand palming at his head, Gaara realizes he's woozy. That… That really hurt. Shit. Eyes fixing themselves on the mirror, Gaara sees the same thing, except now, he can see blurred out faces wearing Hogwarts robes standing beside him and the others as well.

Then, he begins to chuckle. At last, he understood.

"So, this is why you put me in this house… I understand, Sorting Hat. I'll change Slytherin, from the inside out. I'll make it better, just like I proved to my people that I could become better. I'm still going to tear you thread by thread, though."

With that, Gaara took his cloak and departed.

In the corner, Dumbledore trembled. When young Harry had collapsed, he had attempted to interfere. This was not what he believed an encounter with the Mirror of Erised would lead. Instead, he had wanted to use it to get some insight into young Harry's mindset, to find out why Harry was a Slytherin instead of a Gryffindor, to see if there was any merit to those rumors swirling around.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore couldn't get near him. Not with that whirling defense of sand surrounding the boy. Yes, he could have torn past it, but any magic like that was instinctively tied to the caster, so doing so would have likely made things worse. The shock of the Mirror on top of the shock of having part of his very magic ripped away would have likely landed Mr. Potter in Saint Mungos.

Now, however… Dumbledore wasn't sure what to think.

Young Harry was damaged. Dumbledore could see that much. Perhaps placing him with the Dursleys had been a mistake on his part, Dumbledore silently admitted to himself, but now he pondered on his next actions. For now… Dumbledore would wait and see. He would examine. It was far too early to make any assumptions. It would be best to play this one by ear.

With that in mind, Dumbledore strode out of the room and made his way to the one person in the entire castle that he could trust to help him in the task, Severus Snape.

Blaise Zabini wondered where exactly Potter was dragging him off to this time.

Unlike the rest of his house mates, Blaise didn't really give a rats ass what side Potter was on or that he was the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. In another world, that wouldn't have mattered, but, as Potter had been sorted into Slytherin, Blaise's neutrality on the subject might as well have been taken as approval of Potter's existence. Unfortunately, Potter himself had taken it as such and had latched onto him rather early on.

At first, a mix of fear and awe had kept Blaise from counteracting it. Potter had a dangerous aura about him, after all, and his magic practically overwhelmed anyone in his presence. However, as the weeks had dragged on, Blaise had noticed something in Potter that reminded him a little of himself.

That lonely haunted look Potter had when he thought no one was looking.

Sure, Blaise didn't have it as bad as Potter, but you try living with a mother that rather obviously murders all her husbands and gets away with it and see if other kids play nice when they're damn well aware of it.

"Where are you taking me, Potter?"

"Mirror. You have to see it."

Blaise just arches an eyebrow but lets himself be taken anyways.

And see it, he does. Potter has to drag him away from it too, in the end, because Blaise can't look away. There has to be a way to cross, right? Get to the other side of the Mirror, go to that world, that place, right? There… There just has to be!

Later on, he realizes, the Mirror is a lie.

All magic that ensnares is a lie.

Blaise realizes that. But Potter… It doesn't take Blaise long to realize, that whatever Potter saw, it's changed him. For better or for worse, he can't really tell yet but he's leaning towards the former.

The next time Potter smiles at him, though, Blaise remembers the Mirror and a part of him smiles back.

He'd been dragged into this at the start but, maybe, just maybe, this wasn't so bad.

Severus was unsure what to think of the boy. It would have been easier, so much easier, if it wasn't for that blasted hair. Severus wasn't sure where he had gotten it from. Lily certainly had red hair, yes, but the boy's was the color of blood, dark and crimson.

Perhaps it was blood, a part of his mind idiotically suggested before Severus crushed down the notion.

Lily's child was an odd one.

He wasn't like either of his parents, not really. At the same time, he had traits from both of them.

Young Harry had precious few friends. After the display of power in the Great Hall that first night, most tended to avoid the Boy-Who-Lived like the plague. It made Severus sneer. After all these years, the same attitudes that had alienated his House were still being practiced. And, they wondered why so many Slytherin either sided with the Dark Lord or remained neutral in the war.


Despite the whispers of how dark the boy is, Snape doesn't believe it. He can see what they can not. A gentleness to his actions, only seen when in the presence of his so called friends. The smile he deems for them, how he protects them.

That... That is all Lily, Snape realizes. Gentle, and forgiving.

But, as if to remind him of how cruel fate is, Snape also sees the vicious vindictiveness the boy possesses. Threaten him and his and he would retaliate. More than retaliate. Harry Potter would take sadistic joy in tearing apart anyone who dared harm what he deemed his.

Perhaps there was some merit to that Dark Lord theory after all.





Naruto Uzumaki gave a yelp as he fell from the sky. Had he been an ordinary ninja, perhaps being tossed across dimensions like he had just been would have disoriented him. However, Naruto was no ordinary ninja.

He was the greatest ninja ever and he would be Hokage, Dattebayo!

So, instead, Naruto twisted in the air and landed upright before laughing loudly. Then, staring up at the strange ceiling that looked like the sky, now that he thought about it, he waved his fist furiously.

"Think that's enough to defeat the great Naruto Uzumaki, 'tebayo! Jokes on you, Sasuke! I will- heh? Who are you people?"

It was only then that Naruto realized just exactly what Sasuke had done. Using some weird bullshit Uchiha super secret Sharingan-can-magically-control-time-and-space Jutsu, Sasuke had sent him through some odd portal. Looking around, Naruto realized he was in a hall surrounded by several hundred kids who were all looking at him in surprise.

Well, all except an orange haired freckled kid who was rapidly growing red.

"Eh? What's wrong, gaki?" Naruto questioned.

"You- you- You're standing in my food!" the kid bellowed.

Naruto blinked. Then, looking down, he yelped.

"Yuck! Disgusting!" Naruto lifted his foot and waved it a little, food shooting off in several directions. Several people swore as they were struck.

Then, a bang sounded through the hall. Looking up, Naruto was met with the gaze of what he could only assume was the Third Hokage's Great Grandfather. Ojjijiiji-sama, Naruto decided, with an extra jii thrown in just for the hell of it.

"Who are you and how did you get in here?"

Naruto opening his mouth to answer before another loud bang was heard. Head twisting to the side, Naruto was shocked to see Gaara, or all people, lifting his head from having slammed it against the table.

"Naruto Uzumaki. I should have known you were behind this."



"Eh?! Gaara? What are you doing here? And why do you look smaller?" Gaara responded by slamming his head again. Then, Naruto pondered the words a little more. "And hey! I didn't send you here! If anything, it was that bastard Sasuke! That little shit sent me here instead of fighting me like a true Shinobi!" Naruto complained loudly.

Gaara twitched before glaring at him.

"Obviously, you did something to cause this, and I won't be convinced otherwise."

Naruto could only twitch as the rest of the hall could only stare back and forth in wonder.

Before Naruto could respond, however, a dimensional tear appeared. Naruto blinked before Kakashi poked out of it. His sensei took one look around, gave Naruto one of his distinctive smiles, then shot a hand out. Naruto yelped as he was dragged into it, vanishing once more.

Silence echoed across the hall.

Then, Gaara stood. With a loud groan, he turned to look at the head table.

"Please, please tell me you people have Sake around here?"

He was pretty sure someone fell over at the statement.

Chapter Text

A/N: You know, I'm getting good recommendations for this story. I'm gonna start going with some of those at some point instead of following that poll. Hell, I'll probably end up switching it up a bit.

So, after Gaara, we're getting Gray from Fairy Tail. It's ironic, since that one was the first one I actually planned before someone recommended Han Solo

Also, anything past the last chapter of Naruto will be ignored for a simple reason. I haven't kept up with the material after that and currently am not interested in catching up on Boruto's adventures.

Also, we're almost at 200 reviews! Thank you, everyone! I appreciate every single one of them (:

And third, the Grimmjow spinoff has been posted under the title 'Destructive Tendancies'

Anyways, babbling aside, here's the next chapter! :)

Published: 11/13/2017

Warnings: None really. Surprising, huh

Poll: (on, same user name)

1st: Naruto (65 votes)

2nd: Katekyo Hitman Reborn (61 Votes)

3rd: Bleach (50 Votes)

4th: Percy Jackson (45 Votes)

5th: Assassin's Creed (41 Votes)

6th: Deadpool(Movie), Final Fantasy VII (39 Votes)

7th: Fairy Tail (38 Votes)

8th: Fullmetal Alchemist (37 Votes)

9th: Avengers, Devil May Cry (34 Votes)

10th: Doctor Who (33 Votes)

11th: Ao no Exorcist, Supernatural (32 Votes)

Total unique votes: 274

Chapter 15

Gaara, Part II

Gaara wondered, at times, how exactly he had died. He, for the life of him, just couldn't remember. Not really. While his old life did come to him in bits and pieces, the last thing he could honestly say he remembered in detail was the end of the Fourth Great Shinobi War.

A war to end all wars, based on Naruto's babbling. Gaara remembered well, and he remembered the shine in those blue eyes. A determination that this slaughter would be the last. That they would have lasting peace.

Whether that dream became reality or not was unknown to Gaara. If anyone could manage such an impossibility, it was Naruto Uzumaki, after all.

Regardless of how, Gaara realized, he had fallen and had been reincarnated as a scrawny little brat with a childhood only slightly happier than his own. The difference, really, was power. Gaara had never been defenseless. Harry Potter had been such a weak little thing.

Gaara could also assume that he was currently on a different world. He knew such a thing was possible. The existence of other planets and their inhabitants was a known fact.

All the Kage knew this to be truth for one simple reason. Kakashi had debriefed them all at the end of the War in the events that transpired after Madara had caught them all in the Infinite Tsukuyomi.

Gaara just hoped, truly, that something as utterly insane as Kaguya Otsutsuki didn't exist in this world as well.

Almost mockingly, several thousand miles away, glowing yellow eyes snapped open for the first time in a millennia.

"Just what are you playing at, Potter?!"

Gaara could only blink. Then, wordlessly, he turned to the snake.

"Why can the humans not understand you? Why me alone?"

The snake scoffed.

"These pathetic mammals have lost the ability to commune with nature. Although, I see you human speak not the serpent tongue but the beast tongue. I'd say I'm honored, but your kind has a habit of summoning my brethren in their fights so… Die!"

Gaara raised an unimpressed eyebrow as the snake lunged at him. His sand caught it easily enough. The snake hissed and bared its fangs.

The hall stared in wonder.

Then, Gaara looked up to the rather pale looking Malfoy brat that had set the snake on him.

"The snake, excuse me a moment," Gaara looked back to the snake, "Name?" he hissed out.

"Natalia," came the response, along with an impressive blast of venom that Gaara easily dodged. He wasn't aware snakes could do that. Then again, this was a summon, so he supposed it wasn't outside of the realm of possibility.

"Natalia here is annoyed that you all keep summoning her and her kind to fight for you. She's rather peeved."

"I don't care if these non speakers call me! At least their tasks are simple! You Shinobi truly are slave drivers!"

Gaara pointedly ignored the snake. Part of him pondered if he could piggyback with one to make his way back to his world, but thought better of it.

Reverse summoning would require a summoning contract, one which he did not currently have.

"She would also like that you return her. She was having a wonderful dinner with her family when you curly pulled her away from it and set her on me." Gaara explained patiently.

"You deceptive, conniving abomination! Release me!"

"See? She's demanding you release her even as we speak!" Gaara motioned to Natalia.

If looks could kill, Gaara was pretty sure he'd survive but it would be a bitch.

Sputtering, Malfoy did as commanded, almost dropping his wand in the process due to how much he was trembling.

A beat.


Then, of course, it could only be one.

"He's the Heir of Slytherin! He's a parselmouth!"

Surprisingly, it was not in fact, Ronald Weasley who spat the words out.

Ernie Macmillan let loose an impressive amount of Killer Intent. For a civilian.

Gaara arched another eyebrow. It had been rather pleasing to discover he had been reincarnated with them. They added far more to his expression.

"I can speak to all beasts. Can't any of you?" he asked, a carefully articulate frown on his face. The chattering stopped and all stared at him in wonder. Gaara then rolled his eyes. "Honestly… Magical standards in this place are falling apart at the seams."

Then, without another word, he dramatically exited the hall yet again.

A little known fact was this. In the Shinobi world, the ability to understand animals came two fold. For one, an animal needed Chakra. All living beings had this necessary requirement, but only those that had learned to do focus and channel Chakra would find any use of it.

Such as Shinobi and the animals they summoned.

Within an animal, it gave them not only strength and power, but the China king of spiritual energy gave them a higher level of intelligence, enough to the point where they could comprehend and speak to humans. However, this was two fold, after all, and that was not enough.

Yes, an animal infused with Chakra could speak, but only other beings that had learned to channel the same power could communicate with them. As such, Ninja were known to understand animals just fine, yet if you introduce a civilian to a ninja animal they would blink, unable to understand a si glue word chattered from their lips.

Justin Finch-Fletchy felt himself pulled back rather rapidly. A scream escaped his lips as he realized it was sand. Sand. Only one person wielded sand like this. Only one.

The Heir of Slytherin.

He screamed even harder. Gasping and eyes wide open in fear and terror, he gazed around frantically.

"Close your eyes, fool!"

Justin hit the stone with a thud. Panting, he sat up as the Heir stood before him, a grunt escaping the red head's lips.

Then, he heard a hiss and a screech. Looking up, he saw a wall of sand before then, wavering in the face of pure force.

The Heir grunted. Then, eyes snapping to him, Justin met the cold green stare.

He almost shit himself right then and there. He was extremely pleased he had skipped breakfast in his rush that morning.

"Go! Get a teacher! I… Can hold this thing, but in my current state…"

Another massive hiss.

Justin watched in horror as venom began to melt through the sand wall. The Heir gave a grunt, gripping at his chest as if in physical pain.

The Heir… The Heir was protecting him. The Heir… Potter wasn't the Heir, Justin realized. Potter couldn't be the Heir. He couldn't, because if he was, why was he defending him? If he was, why was he friends with Hermione Granger? If he was, why would he give a damn at all if Justin Finch-Fletchy, a disgusting little mudblood, lived or died?

"Go!" Potter roared.

Scampering, Justin stood and ran.

Albus Dumbledore frowned.

This turn of events… This was not what he had expected. Yes, young Harry's nature as a parselmouth was to be expected. He was, after all, Lord Voldemort's Horcrux.

Young Harry confronting Slytherin's monster was not something Albus had expected. It was not something he could have predicted at all. Yet, it had come to pass. Harry had faced off against the beast.

Harry had fought against the beast, and he had lost.

Dead, no.

Petrified, surprisingly, no.

"Professor. To what do I owe the honor?"

Young Harry didn't sound honored in the slightest. Those pale green eyes looked at Dumbledore with indifference and distaste. Young Harry did not like Dumbledore, and he made no effort to hide it.

A side affect of being sorted into Slytherin, Dumbledore presumed.

"Mr. Potter. You fought Slytherin's monster."

Young Harry gave a tense nod.

"Yes. It's a great snake, Professor. How it's managing to move around the school is beyond me. And… It's eyes. Whatever you do, do not stare into the eyes." Potter gave a shudder.

A great snake. A great snake with a twisted power locked in its eyes. There could only be one beast, and Dumbledore felt foolish, idiotic for not realizing it before. Of course. Salazar Slytherin's monster could only be one being.

"A Basilisk."

Harry gave a single tense nod.

"I survived its stare, but… I think that was a one chance survival." Dumbledore couldn't help the gasp that escaped him. Harry raised a single hand, fingers picking at the lightning bolt shaped scar. "This… abomination protected me. It won't do so again. I got lucky. I was careless."

The hand dropped. For a moment, Dumbledore didn't see the wall that Mr. Potter portrayed to the world. He didn't see the invincible independent creature that threatened to crush all who stood against him. He didn't see the fierce warrior who had been tested, time and time again, by the need to survive. No. Instead, he saw something that made his heart ache.

A child.

Despite all of Dumbledore's plans, all his manipulations, this boy… This boy was just that. A boy. A child. A child.

The boy tensed as he wrapped him in an embrace. Then, slowly, the child relaxed into the grip.

A pang filled Dumbledore's heart.

This boy.. This poor, broken boy, would have to die for the greater good. Dumbledore had ignored the thoughts in the past, convincing himself that when the time came, he would find another way, another path.

There was no other path.

Harry Potter would die, and Dumbledore would lead this lamb to the slaughter.

Dumbledore failed to realize, in that moment, that Lord Voldemort's Horcrux was well and truly dead, slayed by the glowing glare of a basilisk. For those such as him, too set in their ways and too determined to see them play out, Dumbledore's mind was a stubborn one, ignoring what was right in front of him.

Ginny Weasley.

Tom Riddle.

A diary. A diary that reminded Gaara of her. Of mother. Not his true mother, no. Neither of them. Not of Lily Potter, who held him with love, or of Karura, who's dying will protected him even now, literally a lifetime later.

No, it reminded Gaara of Shukaku.

Of whispers and lies and deception and insanity. Of betrayal and mind games.

"I am Lord Volde- What are you doing!"

Gaara would be the first to admit that since coming to this world, he was weaker. Far weaker. The strength, the power, that he had possessed as Kazekage had not followed him. Yes, some of that power had bled through, but not all.

A part of him suspected it had been that scar. A scar he was now rid of. Regardless, Gaara knew that he wouldn't survive a second round with Slytherin's pet.

A true Shinobi knows their limits. And, a true Shinobi never, never, fights fair.

The spirit of Tom Riddle gave a girlish screech as Gaara, calling upon the twisted power that laid dormant in his memories, allowed curse seals to cover that twisted book of his. The book snapped open, pages flipping rapidly as the young Dark Lord was sucked back inside before closing with a snap.

Summoning the book to him, Gaara held it close as the girl, at long last, awoke.

Hours later, as the school cheered around him and the rest of the houses looked at Slytherin in wonder, Gaara realized that he was well on his path to changing this world, for the better.

Sirius Black yelped as he was unceremoniously captured by a chain of sand.


Who uses sand based magic anymore? It wasn't like they lived in a desert, after all!

His emasculate form was pulled towards a redheaded boy and his breath hitched off a moment.

Pale green eyes met his with an unnerving stare.

"Well? Speak, creature. I can tell you aren't some ordinary animal."

Sirius considered it for a second. Even years later, he could recognize his godson pretty accurately. That blood red hair was a dead give away. Ah, what the hell. It couldn't hurt to blab. It's not like anything would come from it.

"Well, since it's not like you can understand me, my name is Sirius Black, I'm your failure of a godfather, I escaped prison because the filthy traitor that betrayed your parents to Voldemort is currently at Hogwarts, and I'm the most wanted criminal in the country since I escaped from a seemingly inescapable hell wizards deem adequate as a prison." Sirius let out in a series of barks and huffs.

His godson raised a single eyebrow. He actually looked pleased to be doing so for some reason that Sirius just couldn't understand.

"Fascinating. And this traitor, can he shift shapes in the same manner you can, Black-San?"

Sirius would have fallen over if not for the sand holding him.

What… What just happened?

Gaara had never been one for subtlety. True, a ninja is suppose to sneak about underneath the gaze of all others, unseen and unheard, but Gaara had never been like that.

Naruto was far worse, but that was another story all on its own.

Really, part of him wondered why they were even called Shinobi. They were more like overpowered mages that typically specialized in a specific magic or art.

Gaara had always been blunt. Which was why he was being blunt.

"You think Scabbers is a what!"

Ronald Weasley had actually made an effort this year to be nicer to Harry Potter. Yes, Potter was still a slimy Slytherin and all his actions should be taken with a grain of salt, but he was also a slimy Slytherin that had saved Ginny's life. That had to count for something.

Except, of course, for the part where Potter stood before him claiming that his pet rat was secretly a fucking Death Eater.

"A very reliable source informed me that the rat you carry isn't exactly a rat." Gaara explained yet again.

Weasley was looking at him as if he was mental. Perhaps he was.

Scabbers gave a screech.

Easily enough, Gaara caught him and levitated the creature towards him.

"Scabbers? Scabbers?! Let him go, Potter!"

Gaara, however, ignored him. Producing a potion he had purchased down in Diagon Alley, and it had cost him a pretty penny, he let a few drops fall upon the now squeezing rat.

Several screams sounded in the train as Peter Pettigrew appeared before them. The rat of a man attempted to flee, but, before he could, Gaara pulled him forth and flicked him once in the head.

Knocked back by the blow, the traitor fell to the cold metal floor, eyes rolling into the back of his skull.

This was a catastrophe! Complete and utter chaos! How could this happen! How could this happen under his watch, under his leadership?!

Harry Potter sat before the Minister of Magic, who was pacing up and down his office like a caged animal. Pathetic, really. This was the leader of Magical England?

Had a Kage this weak had ever been chosen, it would have been all the invitation needed for war back in the Elemental Nations.

"You wanted to see me, Minister?"

The portly man eyes the source of his scourge. Young Harry James Potter. A Slytherin of all things, a Parselmouth to boot, and the slayer of Slytherin's monster if his niece was to be believed. The Boy Who Lived truly was making his mark upon the Wizarding World.

(Unknown to Fudge, or anyone really, Slytherin's Basilisk was currently enjoying a well deserved nap within the Chamber of Secrets)

"Yes, Mr. Potter. I am to understand that it was you who discovered Peter Pettigrew?"

And that was another clusterfuck. A grown man, a Death Eater at that, infiltrating Hogwarts and sleeping in the prepubescent boys dormitories. That itself was a scandal all on its own, nevermind the fact that Pettigrew's continued existence meant that the guilt the Ministry had cast of Sirius Black was now being called into serious question.

Gaara gave a nod.

"Yes. I met Sirius snooping about in my relatives backyard, where he explained everything to me."

Fudge was very glad he had not taken a sip of his tea. If he had, he would have spat it all out at the statement.

"Sirius Black! Mr. Potter, that man is a deranged killer, regardless of whether or not he killed Pettigrew! Surely, you know this?"

The state he was met with was one of a parent scolding an unruly child.

"No, Minister, I did not. I was not informed of any of this. In fact, until meeting with Sirius, I had never even heard of him, despite his apparent ties to my past." The tone the boy had made it apparent he was rather displeased he had been kept in the dark, regardless of the fact that he was a hold and children should not deal with such issues, "Besides, I assure you… Black does not have a killer's heart."

Fudge gave the boy a disapproving look, full of disappointment and condescension.

"Now, my boy, surely you can't know that."

Then, the pressure in the room increased a thousandfold and Fudge shat himself then and there.

"Trust me, Minister. I can. If you'll excuse me," Potter stood, "I'm missing Professor Snape's class, and despite being in the same house as the man, he is rather strict. I suggest you… Make yourself presentable. Good day, Minister. I will be in touch for a status update on my Godfather's coming trial. I trust explicitly that the Ministry will correct these most erroneous tragedies that have been committed by the previous administration."

Then, without another word and leaving the shuddering Minister behind, Gaara turned and departed.

Gaara had never had any faith in the Ministry. That had been proven last year, where only public outcry and demand had led to Sirius Black getting the trial he had deserved all along, proving at long last that an innocent man had been tossed into Azkaban without a care in the world.

Now, Gaara was coming to the same conclusion about Hogwarts. Whatever faith he had held that the school was different than the Government shattered in a single moment.

"Sabuko no Gaara! Hm. I was not aware that we had a student by that name…"

Gaara stood. As one, the hall eerily turned to him. Almost as if they had some sort of hive mind, really.

"Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore seemed confused.

"My name, in this word, is Harry Potter. When I last lived, however… I was known as Sabuko no Gaara, and I carry those memories even now in this life."

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed.


The Bijuu is out of the cage now, Gaara thought wearily, as the whispers exploded once more all around them.

A/N: Thoughts? Responses? Suggestions? Criticisms? Feel free to leave a review :)

Chapter Text

A/N: The last chapter actually got over 20 reviews. I just want to say, thank you to every single one of you (:

Anyways, here is the next chapter. I'm going to try and update this on a weekly basis, although I make no promises on the off chance that I can't

Published: 11/17/2017

Warnings: None for this one


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Total Unique Voters: 298

Chapter 18

Gaara Part III

"He iz but a littel boy! He cannot compete! Pleaze, see reason!"

Fleur seemed genuinely concerned for Gaara's well being. Had he not been a ninja an adept at reading body language so well, he might have assumed otherwise. However, Gaara was no child. He had never had a childhood to speak of, not one that he could remember. Raised as a weapon in one life and as a slave in this one, Gaara had no accurate mental concept of 'childhood'.

"I may look like a child," Gaara cooly cut across the wild chatter and shouts. The others in the room froze as they felt a dangerous pressure begin to build upon them. "However, I am far from it. I can only assume Voldemort's," Gaara blinked as everyone flinched. Whatever. Odd Wizarding quirk. "I can only assume his curse caused me to remember my past life. I may have the body of a child, but I've lived more years and fought it more wars than you can imagine."

Karkaroff scoffed.

"You expect us to believe that, little boy? You are nothing but an arrogant self centered brat craving the attention of others!"

Gaara leveled the man with a single stare. Then, he tilted his head and did something he had yet to do since he had found himself in the body of a child. The one ability that had come with him, completely and utterly. A power that was honed by years of pain and anguish and hatred and fear.

Karkaroff fell to his knees, gripping at his heart as millions of visions of death and despair and destruction struck him. The others in the room flinched back.

"What iz this magic?" Madam Maxine exclaimed.

"Harry! I demand you stop this at once!"

Gaara gave the Headmaster a single cold look before turning away, back towards his victim.

"This isn't magic," Gaara revealed before releasing the pressure. Karkaroff's breaths came in great pants before small, dark beady eyes stared up at Gaara in absolute horror. "This is a technique from my homeland known as Killing Intent. Pure unadulterated rage and murderous will. It takes advantage of the sixth sense all humans have, that whisper in the back of your head that warns of danger and aims to keep you alive and safe, and abuses it to no end. If used on someone of weak constitution, it has been known to cause heart failures."

Gaara ignored the wands now aimed directly at him. If he had to fight his way out of this room, then so be it. He was a Shinobi. It's not like Shinobi to fight fair. He doubted anyone had noticed that they were talking to a Suna Bunshin that he was controlling remotely, so even if they did chose to attack, it wouldn't amount to anything. Ignoring the threat, and therefore stating that they were beneath his interest, Gaara turned to Fleur.

The French girl looked divided between fright and awe.

Gaara gave her a single genuine smile.

"So, worry not. I can take care of myself." Gaara ignored the way the girl's cheeks flared. Instead, he turned to Dumbledore. "Instead, the question we must ask is this… Who managed to confound an Ancient Magical Artifact in order for it to perceive there were four schools in the competition instead of three? Because, even running on the assumption that I did entre myself, which I did not, it does not explain why there are four champions."

It took Gaara several seconds to realize he had broken the Wizards. He resisted the urge to facepalm. It seemed not one had realized that little fallacy in the Tournament line up. Did these people not have common sense?

The whispers of Slytherin and filthy cheater followed Gaara wherever he walked. No matter what he said or did, it seemed, he wouldn't be able to change every opinion out there, which was just fine with him.

The approval of fools was not something he had ever craved, in this life or the last.

Ironically enough, the one house that did not turn on him was Hufflepuff, of all things. While in theory, they should have lead the charge against Gaara, instead they were his staunchest supporters. Why? Well, to put it simply…

"You helped protect us from the Basilisk. You protected me from the Basilisk, while I was telling everyone left and right that you were the Heir of Slytherin." Justin explained, a slight bit of awe reflecting in the teen's voice. "So, if you say you didn't put your name in, then I believe you. And, we Hufflepuffs? We stick together."

"... Are you stating that I am now an honorary member of your house?"

So it was that, the next morning, everyone within the Great Hall was rendered speechless when half the Hufflepuff House carried in Gaara and Cedric, proclaiming Gaara a true Hufflepuff.

Did Gaara's eyes deceive him, or were Weasley and Malfoy having a mental breakdown?

Natalia hissed in annoyance. This was not what she had expected her revenge would amount to. Two years ago, when she had been summoned by that pasty excuse for a mammal, she had also met Sabuko no Gaara.

She had recognized him on sight. Who doesn't recognize a Kazekage on sight?

Admittedly, spreading the world amongst the other snake summons that the Fifth Kazekage had been reincarnated as a wizard had been mostly snake gossip. You wouldn't believe the amount of sass and rumors could be found in the caverns of the Ryuchi Cave.

It was only a matter of time, really, before word eventually reached the likes of both Orochimaru and Voldemort alike, both being proficient summoners of the snakes. Orochimaru, while fascinated, had lost interest when he realized that traveling to said world might very well mean he could never get back, so he had tossed it aside as unimportant.

Voldemort, on the other hand?

"Fascinating, fascinating. I wish to learn all I can about this… 'Shinobi' world." the small, baby like figure proclaimed, crossing its fingers as it contemplated its next move.

Natalia twitched. She really should have kept her mouth shut.

"So…" Blaise decided to broach the subject.

Harry gave him a get on with it look.

Blaise gulped.

"You remember your past life?"

Harry responded by rolling his eyes, scoffing, and looking away. Blaise winced. This could hardly be the first time someone had asked.

In fact, the night of the choosing ceremony, Harry had gone off to Dumbledore's office. Hours later, there had been a massive explosion that awoke the castle's inhabitants. Neither would say exactly what happened, although the fact that Dumbledore's personal little tower had mostly been leveled was a big indicator.

"Yes, Blaise, I remember my past life. It… It started pretty bloody, and only got worse from there. By the time I was ten, I had killed more people than I could ever hope to count. I have more blood on my hands than this supposed Dark Lord you're all so terrified of, that I can assure you of."

Then, those pale green eyes met his and Blasie gulped. He believed him. He believed Harry, he realized, because those eyes didn't lie. No. Those eyes spoke of pain and anguish and terror and war.

Harry Potter was more dangerous than Voldemort could ever hope to be. Blaise almost felt like falling to his knees and giving a hysterical laugh. The Boy Who Lived, the savior of the Wizarding World, the Scion of the Light, had a darker and bloodier past than half the Death Eaters combined.

"However… One day, I met him." Blaise looked up at that, cut out from his musings by the nostalgia in his friend's voice. Harry wasn't looking at him. Instead, he had stopped to gaze at the sky, a look of wonder in his eyes. "He… He showed me there was something other than the crushing loneliness, something other than blood and pain and killing. He showed me that I could be better, that I could change things, that I could change the world. He was like a storm, wild as the raging seas and the wrath of a hurricane. And we did. We changed the world. We made it better."

Those eyes fixed back on him.

"That's what I want to do here, Blaise. The Wizarding World… It's not as twisted as the world I grew up in. But, I've seen the shadows it holds and I want to make it better. I want to change it. I want to make my mark on this world. I want to be remembered, not as a monster, but as a progenitor of change. Will you stand by me?"

Blaise had no shame in admitting that the proclamation stunned him.

Him, stand by Harry? Harry was trusting him, out of everyone in the world. Harry was extending a hand out to someone like Blaise, someone weak and pathetic, instead of extending it to someone strong and powerful. To Harry, Blaise was worth something.

In the back of his mind, Blasie remembered another world. He remembered being marked, and the cruel hands of fate. He remembered breaking free, and how that freedom had cost him his existence, but that was okay because he was as free as the birds soaring in the sky.

So, he took the hand, and for the first time, he believed.

Gaara twitched as he faced the Horntail. By the Sage, is this what they would have set on Harry Potter in another reality where he didn't have recollections of his past life? How utterly twisted and evil.

Still, best not to play his hand too much.

The Horntail thrashed about, destroying illusion after illusion. In it's confusion, it never noticed the Golden Egg had been swapped for a rock.

The Academy Three were a wondrous invention.

Gaara gazed out to the lake.




How should he go about this? This was, after all, his mortal weakness.

Oh wait, duh!

As the other champions prepared to leap into the frigid cold of the lake, Gaara bit into his thumb, drawing blood. The others paused in surprise. What was Potter doing?

"Kuchiyose no Jutsu!" Gaara called, before slamming his palm into the ground. There was an explosion of smoke before Blaise appeared, coughing up a storm.

"Wha- Potter! The hell did you do?" Blaise glared. While he was thankful for being rescued, the method left him weary.

Gaara shrugged.

"Remember the contact I had you sign?"

Blaise had a very bad feeling about this.

"It was a Summoning Contract. For safety purposes, I assure you."

"... You mean you can bloody summon me whenever you please!"

"What? No. Of course not. That would be a gross violation of privacy." Gaara stated, ignoring the fact that ninja's and privacy were opposing terms. "It only works if you're completely incapacitated. Otherwise, you'd feel a pull but could easily reject it."

Blaise twitched.

Up in the stands, Barty Crouch wrote every word down.

Unfortunately, Gaara suffered from a common flaw many Shinobi had. He couldn't help but explain the method of his Jutsu when asked outright.

Gaara had expected the cup to be a trap. Really, it had been so obvious it wasn't even funny. Voldemort needed to get better henchmen. Their plotting could use some work. If Gaara hadn't been determined to spring the trap himself, all Voldemort would have gotten was a Suna Bunshin.

Which, incidentally, was what was currently tied to a gravestone.

"Blood of the enemy, you will resurrect your foe!"

Gaara twitched. Yet another example of Ministry incompetence, Peter Pettigrew slicked a knife across the Bunshin's flesh. How the rat had gotten loose was beyond Gaara. The Ministry hadn't bothered reporting it either, likely hoping to save at least some matter of dignity in the face of their latest fubar.

To Pettigrew's shock, the clone broke away, revealing itself to be an empty shell of sand.

"What- What is this magic!"

"Wormtail, you fool! I advised you, he can swap himself for constructs made of sand!"

"Too late."

Pettigrew spun, but he didn't move quick enough. Few had the speed and agility needed to evade Gaara. Among Wizards, a blast of raw magical energy might have saved them from Gaara's attacks, but Pettigrew had neither the years nor the skill to perform such a feat. The sand wrapped around him easily enough as Pettigrew began to squeal.

"Now, now, Harry. Your father wouldn't want-"

"My father is dead. His desires matter nothing to me. Sand Coffin!"

The sand covered him whole before a splatter of blood fell about the area. Gaara made a note to clean his sand later on. It wouldn't do to carry such tainted blood around with him. It wouldn't do at all.

Then, carefully, he lifted Voldemort from the cauldron.

The tiny Dark Lord gazed at him with such revulsion and loathing that Gaara was briefly reminded of himself.

"Well, Potter? Or, should I call you Gaara, what will you do now? Slay me, like you did Wormtail?"

This creature… This tiny creature was emanating a Killing Intent that could match Gaara's own. He had to admit, a part of him was momentarily impressed before his eyes hardened.

"No, I don't think I will. I was given a second chance by someone very important to me. So, I'm going to do what he would want, and grant that same opportunity to you."

The look Voldemort fixed Gaara with implied he had grown a second head, or something equally insane.

How on earth was an idiot like this sorted into Slytherin? How my great house has fallen…

Voldemort sneered.


Survival trumped dignity.

"Yes. Of course. I will redeem myself."

Voldemort hid a wince. Unfortunately, he couldn't help himself, and the blatant sarcasm was so audible even a Weasley would have been able to catch it.

"... I'm not that idiotic, Tom. I won't take your word as you are. No. Instead, I intend to make you human again."


Voldemort screamed as his small form was levitated, held by a gentle cloud of sand. Producing a scroll out of his robes, Potter cut into his thumb. A poof of smoke later, and Voldemort watched in horror as his Horcruxes were brought forth.

"What- how! How did you discover those!"

In response, Gaara lifted the diary.

"Extracting its secrets was simple enough. I've had far worse things attempt to control me, and in comparison this little book was nothing. Instead, I took control of it."

Voldemort seethed.

This… This was not suppose to be the plan! This was-

"Now… It did take me sometime, but I did discover how to use the power of my cursed seals to bind these soul shards together. And, after that, it will be easy to bind them to you, permanently."

For the first time that night, Voldemort felt fear. True and utter fear. He had underestimated his opponent, and it was going to cost him his immortality. Wizards were superior to all things, so how would an incompetent creature from a land that hadn't even heard of conjuration past the elements surpass him?

Except, that was exactly what was happening and Voldemort, for the first time in decades, was well and truly terrified.

"Live again, Dark Lord, and be reborn."

As the shards merged back into him, Voldemort couldn't help but scream as the searing pain of having his conscious forced back to him was brought about.

Gaara took several steps back as a pulse of pure magical energy rang out. A ball of sand rapidly formed around him as the entire graveyard was blasted away from the force of the blast. Letting his barrier fall away, Gaara gazed at his enemy.

As the smoke cleared away, Gaara made out the figure of a man, features young and sharp and handsome. It seemed the ritual had given Voldemort a sort of average age between the times he had constructed his Horcruxes. Gaara would guess late 20s or early 30s, physically.

Dark eyes fixed on his. Then, the face twisted into a twisted sneer.


"You are a fool, Harry Potter. A complete and utter fool!"

Voldemort waved his hand and let a conclusive blast of magic loose.

Gaara didn't bother fighting him head on. No. That ritual had left even him drained. Instead, he vanished, hands clashing around the Triwizard Cup as he was pulled away, leaving a swearing Tom Riddle behind, who rapidly fell to his knees and cried out, over and over and over again, as humanity was forced back into him one shard at a time.

Tears streaming down his face and eyes wide in horror, Tom Riddle could only gaze at the sky in wonder.

"What… What in Merlin's name have I done?"

This hadn't been the plan. This had never been the plan. Where had he gone wrong? Where had he lost sight of his goals? Where had he become the monster of the story, when all he had ever wanted was to make the Wizarding World better for those like him, those that suffered either by circumstance or chance against the cruel hands of fate?

So, Tom screamed out his anguish. He screamed out his pain into the night sky and watched as the heavens answered, twisted by his magic, and as a storm broke out all around him.

There are evils in this world, more evil and more twisted than we can possibly imagine. Ancient secrets of the dark, from the origin of pain and darkness and shadows incarnate. One such example would be Kaguya Otsutstuki. Other examples, along the same wavelength, could be Aizen and Yahweh, The One Who Bears the Sigil, Satan and his Azure Flames, The First Evil, The Darkness, ect. The list went on and on.

An ancient evil from the past, from whose roots and actions evil could still be felt in the modern day, no matter how many centuries had passed.

Voldemort was not the first to create Horcruxes. He wouldn't be the last either. However, that twisted art began with one, with a single man, his mind and heart twisted by the dark.

Herpo the Foul hissed as he popped another bone in place.

It had been long. So long. Still, Merlin's actions had, just as the Olympians, only delayed the inevitable. Herpo was, after all, eternal.

Yellow eyes gazing forth, the Father of the Dark Arts contemplated his next move as, at long last, after a millennia, he was free from the bonds that he had been tied down with.

Chapter Text

A/N: I have the next Gaara one about a fourth done, but I've been getting so many requests for this I decided to just go with it. This sounded like a fun idea anyways, and I did recently finish watching/reading this series, although the ending does leave so much unsaid.

The omake at the end was a request. I was divided between that character, Kyoya, and Yamamoto but eventually went with Hibari.

As for whole Cedric thing, I was pretty divided between Cedric and Neville. I actually changed that one at the last second. Tough pick on that one to be honest.

Anyways, author tables aside, enjoy :)

Published: 11/24/2017

Warnings: A few implied Reborn spoilers, but nothing outright

Chapter 17

Hibari Kyoya I

If there was one thing the inhabitants of Little Whining could say, without a shadow of a doubt, it was that young Harry Potter was a whirlwind of chaos and nature. No one could rein the child in. Not his guardians, not his teachers, not even the police the one time they had been called.

How it hadn't made International News that a kindergartener managed to defeat the entire Surrey Police Department was beyond literally everyone. Unknown to them all, a pesky little protection spell rendered by one Albus Dumbledore using blood wards made it literally impossible for reports of Harry's residence to come up in publications.

Years later, this would be circumvented by the only organization Dumbledore didn't bother guarding against, the Ministry of Magic. A gross oversight in his part, no doubt.

Regardless, young Harry was a terrifying force to be reckoned with. No one knew that better than Dudley Dursley, who had the displeasure of actually living with that wretched demon child.

Dudley remembered it well. He and his friends had begun the long due process of establishing themselves among the neighborhood. Taking lunch money here, taking protection payments there, the works.

Then, Harry had shown up wielding a pair of wooden tonfas completely out of the the blue and everything had rapidly gone to shit.

"Fake carnivores crowding and terrorizing little herbivores will be punished appropriately. Desist immediately or be bitten to death."

Piers, ignoring the rapidly sweating and paling Dudley, had laughed loudly. Then, proving he didn't have anything mildly resembling even a single brain cell, he then proceeds to challenge the Terror of Surrey.

"You and what army, freak?"

Was it just Dudley's imagination, or did his cousin's eyes flash from green to purple?

He didn't have to imagine much after that. He was in too much pain.

When the Hogwarts letters came, Petunia couldn't be more pleased. She practically crooned upon receiving the first one before rapidly writing back on Harry's behalf.

The next day, when Hagrid arrived, Petunia opened the door with a smile. Before the half-giant even had a chance to speak, Petunia beat him to it.

"Ah. Good. You're here to take the brat." Petunia's smile was a bit fixed, her eyes shining with a glint that said she wasn't entirely there. "Take him, and go! Tell the old man we don't want him and we'll deal with any consequences! I'd take being hunted by Death Eaters than live under a roof with that demon child!"

Hagrid's expression had grown uglier and uglier with each word, rapidly turning red.

"Now you listen hear, yeh old bint! How dare yeh say such a thin' about young Harry? What kinda guardian are yah?"

Petunia narrowed her eyes.

"One who survives! You will see... They will all see!"

Then, to Hagrid's shock, Petunia Dursley began to mumble to herself incoherently. It was then that Hagrid noticed how haggard her appearance truly was. The shadows under her eyes, the twitch of her fingers, the signs of a slowly deteriorating sanity on the brink of collapse. Even Hagrid wasn't blind to the signs, which was really saying something.

"Interesting. A giant."

Hagrid and Petunia both froze as Harry seemed to materialize out of thin air. Had he been there the entire time? To Petunia's relief, her hellion of a nephew wasn't looking anywhere at her. No, instead his gaze was fixed on Hagrid's massive frame. Normally, Petunia would shrill at the idea of the neighbors seeing someone so odd upon her lawn, but at the moment, she didn't really care.

If she could get rid of the brat for good, all the better. Harry speaking knocked the woman out of her thoughts.

"Come. Fight me. I wish to test my abilities against you. Fail to impress me, and I will bite you to death."

"Wha'? Harry, I'm here to take yeh shoppin' for Hogwarts-"

Hagrid, however, was forced to stop speaking for a very simple reason. Young Harry Potter was on him in seconds, swinging his new metal tonfas with unholy glee.

Hours later and several thousand dollars worth of property damage, Hagrid finally managed to pin young Harry down. To his shock, the child had actually managed to give him a run for his money, and Hagrid regularly dealt with dangerous creatures ranging from Fluffy to Aragog.

"Hn. False Herbivore."

Purple eyes, so much unlike that of his parents, glowed with ethereal light. Then, the light fades away to natural green.

Hagrid blinked.

"Wha's that suppose tah mean!"

"You have a benign nature, like the Omnivore, but it conceals your true disposition. False Herbivore. I approve."

Hagrid didn't entirely understand what that meant. All he did know was, from that day on, he had somehow managed to secure an apprentice as fond of wild beasts and animals as he was.

"Harry Potter!"

Kyoya strode forth as whispers filled the hall. He lifted up the dirty ragged hat with distaste before shooting McGonagall a look of distaste.

Then, he lifted a single tonfa in the air and growled out at them all.

"My name is Hibari Kyoya. Refer to me differently, and you will be bitten to death."

With that declaration, Kyoya placed the filthy object on his head.

A second passed. Then, another.

"Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Please, release me!"

Kyoya stood. Then, with a casual toss, he threw the hat back to McGonagall. Then, he turned to the student's, eyes narrowing. From the looks he was getting, Kyoya knew he had his work set out for him. No matter. He would whip this school into shape, no doubt about it.

Draco Malfoy had firmly believed that his coming to Hogwarts would be where he would establish his power base. He had imagined himself, at the center of it all, ruling above his classmates and leading the worthy to a new era. As the Heir of the Malfoy family, it was his legacy after all.

Malfoy's wishes and dreams had been crushed rather spectacularly.

"Stealing property from small animals is forbidden. Surrender the Rememball or be punished accordingly."

Malfoy sneered.

"Or what? You'll wave those Muggle sticks at me, Potter? You are a disgrace to Magical society! A pathetic excuse of a Wizard and-"

Said pathetic Muggle stick smashed into his face while the other smashed into his chest. Malfoy hadn't even seen Potter move before he was rendered unconscious rather quickly.

"I want him expelled! That demon child is a threat to everyone around him, Albus!" Snape was absolutely fuming. He had every reason to be.

Word had quickly spread that young Harry Potter, or Hibari Kyoya as he preferred to be called, had defeated a Pureblood heir in single combat. In a move that made Snape boil with anger, several members of Slytherin had decided that the best course of action would be to 'teach Potter his place' early on before the boy started learning enough magic in order to adequately defend himself.

The ensuing clash had left the entire Slytherin Quidditch team disabled while Potter himself stood bored over an ever increasing pile of bodies, twirling a pair of handcuffs in one hand and a tonfa in the other.

Dear Merlin. No wonder the Dark Lord's curse had rebounded on him. At this point, Snape was outright convinced Potter had just taken one look at the incoming curse and merely willed it to go away because he didn't like the bloody color.

"Now, now, Severus. Be reasonable. The boy was only defending himself, if the story is to be believed." Dumbledore stated serenely.

Snape spluttered.

"Story is to be believed? We have many eye witnesses, Headmaster! The boy is a menace!"

"Now, now, Severus, think logically, please. What kind of 11 year old could possibly do what you are claiming the boy did? Even if it was true," Dumbledore's aura then turned dangerous. Snape trembled slightly as a faint orange glow coalesced around the Headmaster before dissipating, "Then would you kindly explain to me why several Upperclassmen thought it prudent to assault a child?"

Snape grit his teeth.

"Understood, Headmaster. There was no incident. It must simply be… Overactive imaginations."

"Yes, of course. Carry on, Severus."

Kyoya wasn't sure what to feel as he stared at the Mirror.

For perhaps the first time since coming to this world, he had effectively sidestepped the issue and pretended it wasn't there. He was very effective at that. Kyoya was a carnivore, and carnivores are strong beasts that do not require companionship. To even insinuate that they do is ludicrous.

And yet…

Looking into this wretched Mirror, a single tear dropped from his eyes.

There, in the Mirror, was his family. Tsunayoshi, in the center of course, eyes frantic as he tried to control them all. Yamamoto, laughing manically as Gokudera attempted to blast him to smithereens. Lambo, the annoying brat, running around and playing with I-Pin. That idiot boxer in the background, laughing and calling them all extreme. Reborn watching impassively while Dino looked as tired as Tsuna did.

Then, annoyingly, that Pineapple bastard was swinging at him repeatedly with that trident of his while the girl, Chrome, just stood by the side with that familiar blush plastered all over her face.

Kyoya closed his eyes.

In his chest, his heart, for the first time, ached. Truly ached.

Then, glowing purple eyes snapped open as he glared at the reflective surface before him.

"For messing with my mind with these annoying illusions, I will bite you to death."

Hours later, when Dumbledore found the remains of the Mirror he nearly pulled his hair out. Where was he going to hide the Stone now?

"Mr. Hibari, it is my understanding that you refuse to attend Professor Quirrell's class."

If there was one person in this school that Kyoya appreciated, other than Hagrid and his beasts, it was Professor McGonagall. She was the very picture of professionalism, which was something Hibari could appreciate. It had taken the woman several meetings to call Kyoya by his proper name, but in the end she had conceded. Had it been a battle of wills, it likely would have continues on for years.

It was merely a matter of respect. McGonagall didn't exactly approve, but if Kyoya prefered to be called Hibari, then she would honor it.

If only Snape could learn the same lesson, things would be so much easier.

"Of course. I refuse to be in the presence of such a sniveling liar that hides behind a quivering mask." Kyoya spoke, voice laced in disgust. There was a reason he had never gotten along with Mukuro, even after everything was said and done. Quirrell was the same, but worse. The two sided man left him disgusted on a personal level, nevermind the headaches Kyoya had when in his presence.

McGonagall frowned.

"Detention, Mr. Hibari. Professor Quirrell is a teacher, and as such deserves your respect. You will attend that class, unless you wish to repeat this year!"

Kyoya narrowed his eyes.

"Hn. I must simply attend the class, correct?"

McGonagall had a bad feeling about this. Still, despite that, she nodded.

"I see. Very well. I shall attend the Defense Against the Dark Arts course. Good day."

With that, Kyoya stood and departed.

Hours later, several students ran screaming from the Defense classroom, ranting about snakes and monsters and the Roman God of Doorways. When the rest of the teachers arrived, it was to find a ruined classroom, several dead snakes, a hedgehog rolling around and bouncing about in excitement, and Kyoya standing victoriously above a bleeding Quirrell.

"Mr. Hibari! What is the meaning of this!"

"Those who possess others will be bitten to death."

With that, Kyoya lifted Quirrell by the lapel and turned him around to show the rest of the teacher's Voldemort's head growing out the back. He took great care not to let his fingers touch the other man's flesh. Not again. That had been a rather random discovery.

There were many startled gasps of shock as the face on the back of Quirrell's head shook itself awake. It spat blood on the ground before screaming, loudly.

"You… I will have my revenge, Potter!"

Then, to Kyoya's annoyance, a spirit exited the body he was holding, before blasting off into the shadows. He tsked in annoyance. "Annoying Mists. Slippery creatures. He will receive his due punishment in time."

With that, he marched straight out of the room, the bewildered teachers only staring in wonder.

Then, Dumbledore of all people began to laugh.

"My, my. It looks like we will have an interesting few years, wouldn't you say, Minerva?"

Cedric Diggory had no idea what he had done to piss the Harry Potter off, but apparently, he had done something because he was currently running for his life. The third year turned another corner only to have a flying hedgehog, or all things, come flying at him.

With a girlish squeal, he ducked out of the way even as one of the spikes got his arm. Rolling on the ground, Cedric landed in a crouch before lifting his wand up high, his heart thudding painfully against his chest.

Potter, or Hibari as he prefered to be called, strode towards him, glowing metal tonfas encrusted with runes in each of his hands.

"Omnivore," Hibari spoke, and Cedric faltered. Omnivore? "I wasn't sure at first, but I am now. It seems you are far more confident and effective without the old man's interference." Wait, what? Hibari lifted one of the tonfas and purple flame flared. "With your dying will, I will make you remember. Refuse, and I will bite you to death."

Cedric barely managed to get a shield charm up in time. Not that it mattered. Hibari ripped through it easily enough. Cedric gasped as one of the tonfas smashed into his wand arm, effectively breaking it before a knee smashed into his chest. Blood escaping from his lips, Cedric slammed into the wall as his body screamed.

Hibari looked… Disappointed? The look the other was shooting him would have normally pissed Cedric off if he hadn't been so terrified.

"Hn. Pathetic. It seems this is the only way. Die, Omnivore."

"Wait- I- I don't know what you're- ah!" Cedric attempted to protest. However, Hibari was not listening. Instead, that weapon came down again. Cedric managed to dodge the first few blows by instinct before he felt his legs kicked out from out of him. Slamming down onto the ground on his back, Cedric watched as the tonfa came down, ready to strike, ready to kill.

Hibari was going to kill him.

He really was going to kill him, here and now.



He didn't…

No, not yet. He couldn't. It was too soon. Far too soon. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die. He refused to die. He needed to live. He needed to live just a bit longer, because he needed to find them, and he needed to live.

He wanted to live!

Orange fire exploded around them. Cedric roared as he stood before taking note that Hibari had leapt several feet back, expression victorious. Cedric snarled. Fists clenched, he spoke, "I will defeat you and survive… With my dying will!"

Hibari, however, just smirked.

"If you can… Omnivore."

With a roar, Cedric blasted off, fist coated in flames.

In the dungeons, Severus heard the tell tale sounds of explosions and bangs before groaning. Great. Potter was at it again, and, of course, Dumbledore would only laugh it off like usual. Senile old fool.

Seemingly hours later, Cedric laid in the grass spread eagled, deep breaths escaping his lips. Next to him, Hibari did the same.

"Not… Bad… Omnivore."

Then, Hibari, that monster, jumped to his feet. Cedric's eyes widened in shock. Shit! There was literally no way he could go another round against Hibari. He didn't have the monstrous stamina the other seemed to possess.

Eyes, now green instead of the familiar purple, gazed at him.

"Weekly spars, Omnivore. Fail to show up, and I will bite you to death… Sawada Tsunayoshi."

With that, Hibari spun on his feel and departed.

What… What the hell was that all about?





When Fon awoke in his new body, a feeling of dread and horror cursed through his veins. No. No, no, no!

He had been cursed once more.

All the struggles, all the fights, all their efforts against fate had been for naught because he had been turned into a baby again and that meant that there was no escaping this curse. There was no escaping this fate, and Fon was condemned to live and die as an Arcobaleno.

So, he did what came natural in this form.

He wailed. It didn't take long for the other occupants of the house to hear his rather boisterous screams. It also didn't take long for him to be thrown head first into a cupboard of all things.


With that declaration, the door was slammed shut as Fon contemplated his next move. It seemed he was smaller than he had realized. No matter. He could work with this.

As the weeks passed, Fon found himself growing more and more, to his relief. He also found it quite easy to access his flames. It was merely a measure of willing it, and it was done.

It was time to depart.

With one last glance at the burning house he had left behind, the toddler tossed his relatives onto the front yard before running off. There was literally no way he was staying in this hellhole. He'd be better off his own. Hm. Maybe he could sneak off to China?

Chapter Text

A/N: Here is part 2. Thank you everyone for all the feedback and support! It's all very appreciated!

As for the question of whether Hedwig is Hibird, Kyoya doesn't have Hedwig in this section for a very simple reason. Hedwig would remind him of Mukoro

So, I've got people for all the guardians except Yamamoto and Ryohei. Any ideas? Suggestions would be appreciated (:

Published: 12/01/2017

Warnings: None for this one




Chapter 18

Hibari Kyoya II

Kyoya's first year at Hogwarts had ended without much of a fuss. He even got a shiny new toy that he could channel all the flames he wanted to without it shattering to pieces like those pesky rings in the future. It worked almost as well as the Vongola Ring had in his last lifetime, which really was saying something.

Annoyingly enough, he couldn't get the damn thing to change from red to purple though. No matter. Kyoya would eventually will it to be the color he wanted.


Perhaps he could break it apart and make new rings for him as his Famil-

Kyoya killed the thought as quickly as it had come. Annoying mirrors aside, Kyoya cared nothing for that blithering group of a herbivore or that idiot omnivore he had rediscovered at the school.

Second year, however, was starting with a hitch Kyoya rather disapproved of, and he hadn't even boarded the bloody train yet.

"Harry Potter? Is that Harry Potter? Dear Merlin, it is!"

Kyoya then had the displeasure of being pulled forth by Gilderoy Lockhart in front of a massive crowd and shining cameras.

The only warning the group of wizards had was Kyoya's eyes flashing purple and all the current Hogwarts alumni scrabbling to get out of the way as they recognized the fire in Potter's eyes.

Lockhart found himself tossed headfirst into the crowd as several people screamed.

Kyoya twitched as a familiar pair of tonfas materialized into his hands.

"For annoying me and drawing me into this crowd… I will bite you all to death."

So it was that the next day, newspapers worldwide gave proclamation of the Flourish and Bolts Massacre performed by one Harry Potter.

As Byakuran sipped his extra sugary parfait with extra caramel, he gave out a loud cackle as he recognized the burning purple fire in the boy's eyes.

Oh. This world was about to become far more interesting.


"How you, of all people, are graceful in the air when you can't walk two feet without tripping is beyond me."

"That's the most I've heard you speak in a single sentence ever, Hibari-san."

Kyoya twitched.

Tsunayoshi had begun to gain more of his memories from his past life. Kyoya had managed to rather spectacularly trigger them, and there was also the added factor of the power of the Vongola Rings. Like Byakuran with the Mare Rings, the rings had chosen them.

The rings had chosen them because they had the instinctive ability the rings amplified. In other words, they had the power to draw strength from memories of the past. The power of past lives.

However, the person before him wasn't exactly Tsunayoshi. No. He was more Cedric Diggory than he was Tsuna, and Kyoya was slowly starting to realize he himself was a bit of an anomaly.

Harry Potter hadn't just drawn strength from his past life. He had become it.

Unfortunately, because Tsunayoshi was more Cedric that Tsuna at the moment, the blond was currently attempting to convince Kyoya of the so called wonders of Quidditch.

Kyoya growled.

"Attempt to get me on that broomstick, and I will bite you to death."

"Is Kyo-chan scared?"

Yes. This certainly wasn't the Tsunayoshi that he knew. Sawada had a healthy sense of self preservation. Perhaps this might have been his Sky had his Sky not been sealed as a child? Regardless, Kyoya decided he didn't like the omnivore's attitude.

"Hibari-san, is that a hedgehog? I didn't know you could conjure a hedgehog! … Why is it growing? Ah, Hibari, it's attacking me!"

No. He didn't like the attitude at all.


"Enemies of the Heir Beware! You'll be next, Mud- oomph!"

Malfoy's bold declaration was interrupted by a tonfa shattering his jaw. Nothing magic couldn't easily repair, but painful nonetheless.

Kyoya turned to the crowd, eyes menacing. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a few Hufflepuffs trying to push Cedric forward, all while muttering that the blond was the only one who could even mildly rein in the wild temper of Harry Potter.

Kyoya sneered.

"You are all crowding. Other than the Heir, leave now or be bitten to death. To the Heir, step forward now and I will be…" Kyoya cracked his knuckles as purple fire flared around him, causing several people to scream. "More lenient."

Screams resounded from every which corner as practically everyone fled. Kyoya twitched. Cedric watched him impassively.

"You scared them all away, Hibari-san."

"Hn. Then I'll take my frustrations out on you."


Hm. That sounded like Tsunayoshi.

"I will bite you to dea-"


Kyoya easily raised a shield as Seamus Finnigan, of all people, aimed a blasting curse at him. Kyoya supposed he shouldn't be surprised. Seamus, after all, was so fond of explosions and what not that of course he was the silver haired idiot. Although, he was surprised the latter had ended up in Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw.

Cedric eeped as the hall suddenly became a war zone of explosions and multicolored flames.


Kyoya hadn't bothered with the dueling club. He hardly bothered attending that fool Lockhart's class, so why would he attend an extracurricular activity that involved spending more time with said fool while also putting up with crowding herbivores?

As such, the Parselmouth incident was cleany avoided.

Not that it would have mattered.

There was no doubt that Kyoya wasn't the Heir of Slytherin. The way he ran the school, there was no way he'd let such chaos in willingly.


"Ohh, so pretty! Amazing! Collin wants more light, pretty pretty light! Make more light for Collin!"

Kyoya reminded himself that killed Lambo would be very, very frowned upon.


The glowing red eye was a familiar annoyance. Kyoya should have known. Only one person could give him these level of migraines. One person only.

"Mukuro. You've been reborn as well."

"Kufufu. Of course. Although, I must shamefully admit, my memories didn't come back until recently. I will, however, rule this world. I've seen its corruption and will destroy it until all that is left is a ocean of blood."

Ginny Weasley stood before him, a single eye glowing crimson with the power of her possessor.

Kyoya rolled his eyes.

"I do not care if you attempt to take over the world. However, I dislike you." Kyoya raised his tonfa in one hand, wand in the other. "I will bite you to death for creating a mess of my school."

In the end, Kyoya burned a diary to pieces, he gleefully smashed a basilisk into pulp, and he discovered the annoying purple haired girl had started to remember her past existence, even if her hair was now a different color.

The next day, Kyoya marched straight towards Cedric Diggory in the middle of breakfast and broke his nose, much to the indignation of his classmates.

"Oiy! Potter! What was that about!"

"Attacking other students isn't nice"

"Yeah, you should-"

Kyoya silenced them with an icy glare before turning towards Cedric. "Control your pet owl, or I will bite it to death, omnivore."

With those words, Kyoya departed, robes billowing behind him. Then, Cedric proceeded to swear loudly in a multitude of languages about out of control guardians and the paperwork he'd have to endure yet again because of it. Kyoya was mildly amused. It had taken nearly a decade for something similar to happen the first time around.



The Dementor approached him, rasping breaths escaping its chapped lips, shadows clinging to it as it moved towards him.

Kyoya was not impressed. He was even less impressed as he felt past memories forced to the surface.

"For making me remember what I wish to forget, I will bite you to death, Vindice-reject."

In the end, it took hours for the train to move forward as Kyoya ran about slaying Dementors in every which corner, all while Seamus stared in wonder at all the fire.

Joy. Hayato had more a pyromaniac in this life than he had been in the last. As long as he kept Kyoya out of it, he would let it couldn't care less, but he doubted that's what would happen.



Kyoya reeled back in horror.

This… This was not what he had expected. One of his classmates, likely Malfoy since the latter never seemed to learn that provoking Kyoya was a bad idea, had pushed him in front of the Boggart.

Kyoya wasn't the only one horrified. Several people screamed and he even heard a few people vomit.

Before him stood a twisted mockery of his future self, wrapped in bandages and chains, eyes glowing with dark fire and the very image of nightmares. Around him lay the rest of his Famiglia, broken and gone because Kyoya had killed them. He'd become a Vindice and killed them all.

Lupin made a motion to step forward but a feral growl from Kyoya stopped him in his tracks.

"For playing such deceptions on my mind… I will make your kind's suffering a priority over the owl."

Then, the class watched in terrified awe as Kyoya proceeded to physically beat the representation of his greatest fear with nothing other than pure brute force. When at last the deed was done and the boggart was nothing more than a whimpering broken mess on the ground, Kyoya spun on his classmates.

"Which one of you herbivores pushed me towards the false carnivore?"

Almost as one, the class scrambled out of the way while simultaneously pushing Malfoy to the forefront.

Malfoy's eyes lit with fear.

"Wait! It - hehe. It wasn't that bad, right? Overcoming our fears makes us stronger, right Potter? Makes us carnivores!"

Kyoya was not impressed.

"I will bite you to death, ferret."

In the end, it took the combined force of Remus Lupin and Severus Snape working to combat a greater threat to stop Kyoya's ensuing rampage.


Kyoya wasn't sure how he ended up in the shack with Weasley and Granger of all people. He wasn't particularly fond of them either.

He was, however, less fond of what stood before him. Kyoya felt a twisting disgust fill him that managed to rival his feelings for the pineapple carnivore.

"You slept in a child's bed for several years while in truth being a grown man covered in filth. I will bite you to death."

When Remus transformed an hour later, the werewolf took one look at the purple flames before attempting to flee. Key word being attempt as multiplying and growing handcuffs captured him, leaving him trapped and immobile.

When the Dementors arrived right afterwards, they took one look at Kyoya and ran as if the fires of hell were behind him. Every Dementor worth their cloaks knew that confronting the tonfa wielding child would result in their untimely destruction.

The sight of fleeing Dementors, a tied up werewolf, and a whimpering Pettigrew greeted Snape as he rushed towards the Whomping Willow.

"You… Are going to be the death of me, Potter. I just bloody know it."


"Harry Potter!"

Kyoya's meal was interrupted by the Headmaster's declaration. Kyoya blinked. Slowly, he looked around the hall as he stood. Murmurs and whispers, a familiar annoyance, began to spread around the hall. They fell to a shuddering silence as Kyoya glared at them all.

"When I find out who put my name in that cup… There will be consequences."

Then, Kyoya proceeded to shatter expectations by marching straight towards the Goblet of Fire and smashing it to pieces with a single swing of his tonfa.

"I will not be bound by your rules."

"Boy! That is a priceless magical artifact! Do you have any idea what you have done!"

Kyoya gave a narrow eyed stare at Crouch, who gulped audibly.

"You are the one running this tournament. This violation of rules is on you for failing to prevent it. I shall bite you to death."

With the threat hanging in the air, Kyoya made his way to the room with the other champions. They looked up as he entered.

"Is something wrong, Hibari-san?" Cedric spoke up first.

"The herbivores have no control of their own tournament. I've been forcibly entered." Kyoya responded. Ignoring the rapidly growing protests from the other two, because they were useless as far as Kyoya was concerned, he fixed his eyes on Tsunayoshi. "You will give me a challenge in this tournament, omnivore, or I will bite you to death."

"Hei! Hibari-san, you could be less aggressive you know?"

Kyoya responded by barring an impressive set of teeth while the Viktor and Fleur could only look on in abject wonder.



The dragon took one look at Kyoya before growling, baring its fangs at him.

Kyoya responded in kind before glaring up at the judges. How twisted, taking a nesting mother and forcing her into such a situation. They would be punished accordingly in due time. Then, he turned back to the dragon.

"I request the false egg the foolish herbivores have placed in your nest, dragon."

The stands explodes into surprised murmurs as everyone stared at Kyoya in shock. Unknown to Kyoya, he had spoken in Parseltongue.

"What! Who would da- how do I know you speak the truth!" The dragon hissed, suspicion heavy in her tone.

"We carnivores must respect each other." Kyoya stated firmly. The dragon stared at him is disbelief. "I have no qualms in fighting you outside of such a distasteful place. But not here, where we might harm your children should we do so."

The dragon sneered.

"You overestimate your worth, human."

In response, Kyoya turned towards the judges panel and raised a glowing tonfa. Familiar purple flames exploded from bjs figure and several whimpers could be heard.

"For imprisoning this majestic creature, I will bite you all to death."

The dragon watched in disbelief as hundreds scrambled in their efforts to flee from a child covered in purple fire.

Hm. Carnivore indeed then, it seemed.

Elsewhere, Gringotts fell into disarray as reports of the First Task came in. They sincerely hoped Potter never saw what was down in their deepest vaults. There would be hell to pay.

Years later, Wizarding Britain was forced to find another bank as Gringotts was leveled by an angry teenager and an ever growing army of spiky hedgehogs.



"What in the blasted hell are we going to take from Potter for the Second Task? And how will he prevent him from… Biting us to death." Snape spoke the last bit with a shudder.

"Come now, Severus." Dumbledore chortled as he popped another lemon drop into his head. "You exaggerate. Mr. Potter is a growing boy."

Snape snarled.

"Growing boy my arse! He's worse that's his godforsaken father! Worse than all the Marauders combined! It's a wonder the school is still standing!"

"Really, Severus. You should let go of your misconceptions. As for who we shall take, Mr. Potter is very fond of Diggory, is he not?"

"Forgive me, Headmaster. I could have just sworn you wanted to use one of our current champions as a hostage for our other champion."

"What fun it will be! Don't you agree, Severus?"

Yes. The Headmaster had lost his bloody mind. Snape sighed. He really was the last sane one standing. He really was.





Kyoya, for once, wasn't sure who he should be mad at. Sure, all logic dictated that he should turn his rage on the idiots running this tournament. However, there was another important factor to consider.

Cedric gasped as he was tossed onto the pier, soaked and exhausted. Then, he felt a dangerous aura. With a gulp, he turned to face Kyoya.

"Hibari-san! Hehe! Wasn't that fun?"

"... For allowing yourself to get captured and used as a hostage against me, I shall bite you to death."


So it was that onlookers were greeted by the sight of an extracurricular duel being added to the tournament between the two Hogwarts champions.


The maze was an insult to their abilities. Cedric merely flew above the damn thing, which no one could stop since he didn't use a broom so it technically wasn't cheating, and Kyoya just blasted his way forth without much of a care.

Really. The should have made these challenges more interesting. This was child's play.

Viktor and Fleur hadn't even tried to stop them. They had resigned themselves to the fact that the two Hogwarts champions had them outmatched.

Which was why Kyoya and Cedric stood alone, covered in cuts and bruises, pants escaping their lips. Between them, at the far end of the clearing, stood their goal. The Triwizard Cup.

Kyoya stared at said cup. There was a certain magic clinging to it that instantly made him suspicious of it. The uneasy look Tsunayoshi was shooting it wasn't helping matters. This was such an obvious trap it wasn't even funny. It stunk of Mukuro as well. This whole operation stunk of the pineapple freak.


What to do.

"We should take it together. We're friends, after all. Right, Kyo-kun?"

Kyoya shot Cedric a look. Those eyes held such a familiar warmth in them that Kyoya had to fight the urge to smile. Stupid Sky, making him feel mushy. He'd bite him to death later.

Instead, he grunts out a single word.


The world twists around them as they are flung in so many directions that it makes Kyoya want to vomit. Repeatably. As they smash into the ground, Kyoya then realized he underestimated Mukuro as a woman he's only seen in old news reports as the one who tortured the Longbottom into insanity cackles at them.

Without missing a beat, Bellatrix Lestrange, who should still be imprisoned thank you very much, waves her wand at them without hesitation.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Kyoya snarls as he prepares himself for a fight. What he does not expect is familiar hands shoving him out of the way, a soft orange glow smiling at him as twisted green strikes and Tsunayoshi is sent flying. His body collides with the ground before rolling several times and coming to a cool, brutal standstill, blank eyes staring at the skies above.

Chapter Text

A/N: Hi all! My days off have switched, so I'll more than likely update this story on Saturday's now. Enjoy (:

Also, very few people caught on to the Mukuro bit. One person on Fanfiction, and one on Ao3

Thank you everyone for all the support and the responses! Each and every one is appreciated!

Anyways, on with the story

Published: 12/09/2017

Warnings: None for this one

Chapter 19

Hibari Kyoya III

There was a moment of shocking silence that followed the second death of Sawada Tsunayoshi. For a moment, no one dared move. No one dared even breath. An alarm rang through Bellatrix's mind, but even she did not fully understand the repercussions of the sin she had just committed. The silence went on for several seconds before, at long last, a voice finally spoke up.

"My dear Bellatrix," Voldemort's child like voice rang out, "you've fucked this all up royally beyond all possible belief. It was nice knowing you."

"... Me Lord?"

Kyoya roared.

Purple flames tore their ways into the heavens, consuming everything around them as the teenager tossed his head back in lament. Bellatrix's eyes widened in shock, horror slowly blooming in her heart. Before she could even move, however, Potter was in front of her, tears in his eyes.

"For taking what I have claimed as my own from me, I will. Bite. You. To. Death!"

Bellatrix can only scream as the child is on her, blasting away past any shield charm she can mutter, batting aside her spells with ease, all with that fire burning in his eyes as he overpowers her with pure, unadulterated force.

Voldemort can only watch impassibly as Bellatrix is slain before his very eyes. Then, those twisted orbs turn back to him.


The name is spat out in a snarl. Voldemort cannot blame the Cloud. Of all the things Voldemort had expected when forcibly drawing Hibari here for his rebirth, this wasn't what he had expected. It would have been useful to know, very useful, to know that Tsunayoshi had been reincarnated as the Hufflepuff champion.

Mukuro hadn't known, however, until only moments before when his eyes had landed on the boy, that familiar and welcoming orange glow, so warm and welcoming, in his eyes. Mukuro hadn't known at all, and Tsunayoshi was now dead, and shouldn't that make Mukuro happy? Shouldn't it, because hadn't that been his goal from the start?

A dead Vongola, the Mafia world in ruins, unholy vengeance upon those that had slighted him, his wrath upon the world. Tsunayoshi had prevented all of that. Then, shouldn't he be happy that Tsunayoshi was gone? That Tsunayoshi had fallen?

Except, no, he wasn't.

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

"You better hope this works!" Hibari snarled at him, barring those famous fangs. Mukuro blinked. Hoped what worked? As he was now, weak and emasculated, he could do nothing to defend himself. This had all been about gaining a proper body rather than this little ragged form. That, and trolling Hibari.

The only thing that had ever made either of them mildly get along was now dead, slain by Mukuro's mistakes.

Hibari spun and drew a familiar blood red stone from his robes. Mukuro's eyes widened as Hibari strode towards Cedric Diggory's lifeless form and knelt before it, cradling the head in his lap.

"Omnivore… You're going to live. You're going to live, or I'm going to burn the entire world to ash."

Mukuro winched. He seriously believed it. Still, Hibari was distracted. It was best to cut his loses and flee here and now. Mukuro, at the very least, had enough control of his flames to do that. However, he was curious. Instead, he elected to wait. Wait, and see.

Then, Hibari slammed the stone onto Cedric's chest and dying will flames exploded into the sky in a multitude of colors. A rainbow, merging into a single bright and familiar orange, the color of the sky. Warm and welcoming and home. The fire sunk into Cedric's skin, into his flesh until at long last his eyes snapped open, a gasp left the boy's lips and fire raced along his skin.

The two champions appeared in a flash of light, Triwizard Cup falling brazenly to the floor. The second they did, cheers began to erupt all over the stadium before Kyoya's voice thundered over them all, silencing them.

"Medic! Healer! Someone! Fix this Omnivore, or I'll bite you all to death!"

Instantly, the entire field scrambled as Madam Pomfrey made a mad dash forth. It was unclear if she was motivated by medical professionalism, the crowd roaring at her to hurry it up, or the burning look in the eyes of the Boy Who Lived which promised pain and agony if she failed.

"... Zis Harry Potter. I understand now. He rulez this school through fear."

Several people backed away from Fleur as she stated this. It wasn't because of the words. Everyone knew Harry Potter ruled the school through fear. That was a well known fact. No, the reason they backed away was the tone behind said words.

Fleur looked thoughtful, all while a certain fire burned in her eyes that spoke of how she couldn't wait to try it out herself.

As one, all the visitors from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic shivered violently as a feeling of fear ripped through them.

Viktor Krum himself also looked thoughtful, and the Drunstang delegates couldn't help but weep.

Harry Potter had corrupted his fellow champions. The Wizarding World was doomed.

Then, a flash of golden light was seen as George Weasley, of all people, jumped into the middle of the field and pushed Pomfrey aside, his hands glowing with warm yellow light.

Beside him, Fred also appeared, instead covered with a strange blue flame. For once, those eyes were serious, not a sign of the usual happy prankster to be seen.

Potter acknowledged them both.

"Kangaroo. Samurai."

Several people blinked. What? This was getting stranger by the second.

"He is not back!" Fudge exclaimed for what was perhaps the hundredth time.

Harry Potter, yes, the Harry Potter, just stared at him impassibly.

"The carnivore known as Lord Voldemort is very much alive. I will bite him to death." Potter declared before turning to shoot Potter a look. "I warned you to control your pet, omnivore." Potter outright growled.

Pet? Pet? Dear Merlin, Potter was even crazier than Fudge had initially suspected if he believed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was the pet of a no name Hufflepuff!

Diggory responded with a wince.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it, Kyo-kun."

"I no longer care. I will tear him limb from limb." Potter declared, standing and making his way out of the Hospital Wing without another word, the doors slamming shut behind him.

Despite Petunia Dursley's misgiving, Harry Potter had always come back for the summer holidays. Kyoya himself approved.

Without him to run the Little Whinging Disciplinary Committee, the entire place would fall into disarray.

Which was why Kyoya was present when Dementors were haphazardly released upon the town. Kyoya twitched.

As much as he wanted to blame Mukuro for this as well, this simply wasn't the Mist's style. No. It had someone else's taint all over it. No matter. He would bite these creatures to death.

"Harry Potter! For the crime of performing magic in the presence of a Muggle, therefore endangering our entire world to exposure, how do you plead?"

Kyoya responded by producing a box and releasing the corpses of the two Dementors as the Wizengamot could only gape in shock.

"I plead not guilty due to Ministry Incompetence."

Where had he gotten the box, you ask? Simple, really. The wonders of Ancient Rune Class, which Kyoya had elected to take instead of Divination. That bug eyed woman annoyed him to no end, so there was no way Kyoya would put up with a class taught by the woman, no matter how many times Tsunayoshi attempted to dazzle him with his puppy eye stare.

"You have all been told that a certain Dark Lord has returned. This is a lie." Umbridge declared, her sweet simmering voice ringing across the hall.

Several snorts of disbelief sounded.

"Doubt it."

"Potter wouldn't have been so furious otherwise."

"Some idiot harmed Diggory. No one harms Diggory but Potter unless they have a bloody death wish."

"Only You-Know-Who would dare."

"Besides, if we disagree with Potter he'll bite us to death."

"Yeah, there is that…"

"DETENTION!" Umbridge roared. The class fell silent. Then, at long last, Hermione spoke.

"Um. Who, Professor Umbridge?"


Well then.

Umbridge whimpered in the broken remains of her office.

"Harming the little animals is prohibited. As an instructor, it is your role to teach and help them grow. For these failure…" Potter gripped that dreaded tonfa that Umbridge couldn't seem to get rid of, no matter how many damn bloody spells she cast on the thing to keep it from returning to Potter. "I will bite you to death."

Her screams could be heard all over the school.

In his office, Dumbledore chortled as he shoved another marshmallow in his mouth.

"I did warn you, my dear Fudge. Bringing someone like her here was a bad idea from the start."

When Umbridge was replaced by a roaring guard of Aurors, no one batted an eyelash. Everyone, including the Slytherins, were overjoyed to have the woman gone. She was just that annoying.

At first, the Aurors had attempted to apprehend Potter for what he had done to their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Then, Potter had casually pointed out that if a trident could beat a teacher in a duel in their own subject, the teacher wasn't fit for the post.

That alone wasn't enough to get them off Potter's tail, however, until documents emerged showing proof that Umbridge ordered the Dementor attack on Surrey. She was currently on trial for misuse of Ministry funds and resources and conspiring to harm Muggles and a family heir.

Dawlish twitched as the demon, Potter himself, eyed him up and down. He only had to survive the week, then someone else would suffer. Dear Merlin, what had the Wizarding World done to deserve such evil inflicted upon them?

Elsewhere, every Death Eater and their sympathizers sneezed.

Severus Snape knew that his actions would eventually one day catch up with him. Of that, he had no doubt. Severus was a form believer in the Karmic force of the universe. It was why he taught the way he did.

Yes, he blatantly favored his own house, but that was to counter the way the rest of the school treated them. Not the wisest of actions, but he digressed.

Severus knew that his actions would come crashing down. They had before, and they would again. Lily's broken body flashed to the forefront as he found himself pinned down, wand scattered off into some corner, barely able to move.

A soft blue glow covered him as a katana imbedded itself next to his head.

"Severus Snape," the cold voice of Fred Weasley spoke, except this couldn't really be Weasley because Weasley was nothing like this at all, he was all laughs and smiles and the thing before him was nothing short of a complete and utter sociopath. "Tell me. Where is your master?"

Chrome Dukuro. Nagi. Ginny Weasley.

She had had many names over the years.

Currently, she was more Ginny that Chrome. Ginny, who was outgoing. Ginny, who loved sports. Ginny, who would hex anyone that came near what she deemed hers without a moment's hesitation. Ginny, Ginny, Ginny.

Chrome was more Ginny, but she was still Chrome.

"My dear Chrome."

Chrome could only gaze in wonder.


Kyoya blinks at the visions Mukuro sends him. A Hall of Prophecies? What on earth is that Pineapple planning now?

Still, he wonders what he should do with the information. Should he tell any of the others?

In the end, Kyoya shrugs, turns, and let's himself fall back to sleep. He's never been one to rely on others, and even a lifetime later, he isn't about to start now.

Kyoya looks in wonder at the giant that he's found in the Forest. At long last. A worthy opponent, better than those pesky little spiders that kept bothering him the other times he'd strolled through the forest.

"Ah haha, ah ha haha! Maybe we should leave him alone, Hibari-san! He looks peaceful, ne?"

Tsunayoshi, annoyingly, insisted that they all travel in mini packs. Normally, Kyoya would dissuade such a notion, but Mukuro had already proved himself a rather dangerous opponent.

Had it not been for the Philosopher's Stone, Tsunayoshi would be dead. Very very dead. As such, Tsuna had been rather insistent that until they got the Mist back under control, this was the best course of action.

Hn. The best course of action would be to kill Mukuro and he done with it, but of course the Sky disagreed. Not that Kyoya was going to honor that if he came across Voldemort again. He would break him.

Regardless, Tsuna's order that they stay in pairs was why the annoying Rain wouldn't stop following him wherever he walked.

Kyoya glared at Yamamoto.

"I do what I wish, samurai."

Then, without another word, Kyoya roared and changed at a giant.

"Byakuran… You've been awake this entire time, haven't you? Kufufufu. You engineered this. Perhaps not everything, but me? Oh, you knew how I would respond! Kufufu."

Mukuro slammed his fist down, eyes lit with rage.

Yes. You read that right. His fist. Flesh and blood. Mukuro had managed to complete the ritual with something better than Kyoya's blood. He had done it with the blood of his Sky, blood that now pumped in his veins.

Annoyingly, this didn't give him Sky Flames. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't the body that summoned said flames but the soul. It was for this reason that, after centuries of jumping from body to body, Daemon Spade had never once mastered the power of Sky Flames.

His soul simply rejected it.

Still, the blood did help Mukuro access other abilities. He could emulate the other Dying Will Flames with ease now. Perhaps not the mastery Daemon had displayed, but similar to an extent.

Right now, though, Mukuro was furious.

When he had awoken in this body, it had coincided with the skylarks awakening of Sawada Tsunayoshi. The Sky, after all, was what had linked them all.

His memories transcending time made their memories transcend as well.

Since then, Mukuro had pondered his current situation and how it came to be. At long last, however, he had his answer. It had taken him time, it had taken him much research, but at last he had found the answer.

And, really, it was in the stupidest things that he had caught Byakuran in his own games.

"You simply couldn't resist ordering so many sweets, could you, Byakuran? Or, should I say, Albus Dumbledore."

To Byakuran, this was nothing more than a game.

Another universe, another reality. Another game. So much fun! Sure, he no longer had visions of conquering the world and reconstructing it in his own image, but he wouldn't be himself if he didn't run around making things interesting for everyone else involved.

And what fun it had been!

Mukuro had grown into the villain Byakuran always knew he could be rather well after Byakuran had ensured his childhood was hell. Okay, not as bad as his previous childhood, but a terrible one nonetheless.

When he had held little Hibari for the first time, the words of the prophecy fresh in his ears, Byakuran had cackled. Another interesting twist!

He then had placed little Kyoya with his relatives, attempting to recreate the same conditions that had made Voldemort. Make them a contrast to each other.

Unfortunately, Kyoya broke the flame seal that Byakuran had used rather simply. From the reports he had gotten, the seal had merely cause Kyoya to twitch for several minutes before flames exploded from him as he literally willed it to go away.

Such was the nature of Dying Will Flames. A seal would only work on them if the victim's will wasn't stronger that the castor. It irked Byakuran that Kyoya's will was stronger than his own, but regardless, it had been fun!

This, however, was not fun.

"Severus. What is this?" Albus could not help but ask.

"I can ask you the same thing, Headmaster. Imagine my shock when Lord Voldemort informed me of how long the pair of you have been… Acquainted."

Honestly. Mukuro should have gone another route. The spy, turning on him? Albus was very familiar with the routine.

What he was not prepared for, however, was little Ginny Weasley appearing out of nowhere as Albus stepped forth to finish Severus off in the remains of his office. What he was not prepared for was for her to rip his wand from his hand before vanishing away in a flurry of Mist Flames.


Severus roared, a pure blast of magic striking Albus. Before he could raise any sort of defense, Severus Snape's wand was locked right between Albus' eyes.

"Goodnight, Headmaster. Obliviate!"

Mind magic, any kind of mind magic, would not hold. This was Dumbledore, after all. There was no doubt in Severus' mind that Dumbledore would eventually unravel the memory charm performed on him. Until that time, however, they now had what they needed.

Mukuro twisted the Elder Wand in his hand.

"You've gone good, Severus. Very good. Unfortunately, there was one last factor I failed to inform you of."

Severus blinked.

"My Lord?"

Mukuro stood, striding forth and behind Severus' knelt form. The tell tale sign of a trident materializing was heard and Severus couldn't help a feeling of dread pooling up in his stomach.

"The Master of the Elder Wand, the true Masted… Is the one that defeats its former holder."

Severus only had a brief moment of oh shit before the trident was shoved through his back. Ripping it free, Mukuro smiled as the body hit the floor, lifeless. Then, twisting the wand in his hands and feeling it respond to him, Mukuro turned his head to where he knew Hogwarts lay.

"Tsunayoshi. Byakuran. You both wanted to play games. Very well. I will play along. Kufufufu."

Chapter Text

A/N: This chapter was giving me a serious case of writer's block, so I left it alone for a bit then came back to it. Ah, stories, stories. Anyways, enjoy everyone :)

Published: 12/30/2017

Warnings: A few manga spoilers for Reborn that are probably never going to get animated if we're being honest. Or they might. Which would totally be awesome

Reincarnation Cheat Sheet!

Kyoya: Harry

Tsuna: Cedric

Yamamoto: Fred

Ryohei: George

Chrome: Ginny

Gokudera: Seamus

Lambo: Collin

Mukuro: Voldemort

Byakuran: Dumbledore

Chapter 20

Hibari Kyoya IV

Cedric felt like smashing his head into a wall. Repeatably. Dear Merlin, is this how Reborn had felt when he was putting up with Cedric's younger self all those years ago and possibly a universe away? Wait, no, that couldn't be it. Even when he had been Tsuna, he hadn't messed up this bad. That, and Cedric was pretty convinced at this point that they'd been reincarnated into an alternate reality. It was just too different from home for it to be anything else.

"You helped Snape steal a powerful magical artifact from Dumbledore, who, is apparently Byakuran, and you didn't think it would be a good idea to run it by me first?" Cedric couldn't help the anger in his tone. He also couldn't help the vindictive glee when Ginny flinched away slightly at the words in a very un-Tsunaish gesture.

Byakuran. Of course, Byakuran was here. That wasn't the shocking bit. Byakuran was literally everywhere, just because he could. No, the shocking bit was Cedric's own stupidity considering the matter. Sure, back in their own time Byakuran had eventually helped them, being instrumental to breaking a literal millenia old curse. The Byakuran here, however, was apparently just as twisted as the one Tsuna had killed in the future timeline.

As Tsuna, Cedric had rarely, if ever, killed. Tsuna just didn't have a killer's heart. Hell, when confronted with a sociopath who wanted to the possess him and use him to make the world burn, Tsuna had responded by converting to the other to his side, because the world was cruel and the world had harmed Mukuro and Tsuna wanted to make it better because that was the type of person Tsuna was.

There had been two Byakuran's that Tsuna had encountered. Two seperate incarnations of the same individual. The present version had been rather sane, had aided them, and had even done them the favor of healing Yamamoto when literally every other medical professional in the planet had declared him a lost cause.

On the other hand, the future version had mind raped a child and torn out her soul, started a literal apocalypse, and had destroyed an entire universe once off a whim while trying an experiment. And, as their luck would have it, they were dealing with one of the darker Byakurans in this world.

A Byakuran that, apparently, thought this was all just a game and giggled in the background while causing mayhem. Actually, that also sounded a bit like the younger Byakuran Tsuna had come across. Only, this one was way more destructive.

And, of course, it couldn't be that simple, because since when were things simple? No, of course not.

Before him stood Ginny Weasley, who fidgeted slightly under the burning stare Cedric had sent her. He couldn't help it. After what she had just told him, Cedric was barely holding back his temper. A small pulse of destructive fire tried to escape him before he reined it in.

Holy hell, is this how Xanxus felt all the time? No wonder he had such a foul temper.

"I- Mukuro-sama needed the Wand. I think we can both agree that, out of the two of them, Dumbledore is the bigger threat." Ginny stood tall and proud, her expression just daring Cedric to contradict her. This wasn't Chrome. Not entirely. No, it was also Ginny. Two people, merged into one. Ginny's stubborn tenacity mixed with Chrome's unwavering will.

Cedric twitched. Once again, he was literally the only sane one standing in this crazy, crazy world.

Kyoya had a rather low opinion about Sirius Black. The man had chosen revenge over his duty as a guardian, which, as far as Kyoya was concerned, was nigh unforgivable. A man who rejects his responsibilities is not a man, but a child. For that reason, Kyoya had little respect for Black.

Yes, he knew Black's aim had been to hunt down the traitor, take him out, then come back for a young Kyoya. However, Black had made such a mess of the affair that all Pettigrew had done to avoid his rightful punishment was chop off a finger and run off, letting Black deal with the backlash.

The problem, of course, was also tied hand in hand with the so called justice system of the Wizarding World. Black hadn't received a trial to defend himself. On the other hand, he had made himself look so bloody guilty that a trial would have seemed more like a formality than anything else, one that the Government wasn't going to bother going through when they were so assured of the verdict.

For this reason, Black issued a mix of feelings from Kyoya. He had always been accustomed to being independent. In this life and in the last, the idea of a parental figure seemed downright odd. He had always been accustomed to fending for himself, because only the strong survive. Meeting Tsunayoshi, however, had taught Kyoya one important thing: even the weakest of animals can grow into a fierce majestic beast if nurtured under the proper hand.

Kyoya wasn't sure what to feel for Black. A wanted criminal that wanted to make a nice little nitch in Kyoya's heart. Part of him craved it while the other half of him rejected the idea entirely. There was one thing, however, that Kyoya was absolutely certain of.

Head snapping up and a scream suppressed on his lips, Kyoya heaved several times, eyes widened in shock as he stared around him at the rest of his classmates, currently focused on their own little tests, scribbling away as they answered numerous history questions that Kyoya had no doubt were biased towards putting the Wizards in the best possible light.

Kyoya's eyes gleamed with rage.

Fond of Black or not, Kyoya realized that he didn't want the other to die. He still wasn't sure what he felt for his so called Godfather, but Kyoya was sure of one thing: if Mukuro wanted to play this little game of his, then Kyoya would be more than happy to go along, and break the other in the process.

Dumbledore heaved. Memory charms were always such a bother to undo. A memory charm was a rather intricate magic, one that wove itself into the kind of its victim, twisting it until it fit the shape of the will of the caster. To the untrained mind, there was no defense. To the untrained mind, undoing such a charm would destroy what was left of their psyche.

Dumbledore, fortunately, was well trained in the mental arts, and undoing this little infraction, while exerting a great deal of effort, was perfectly plausible.

Memories in the mind could be torn to pieces. Memories in the heart, in the soul, however, transcended what could be affected by such arts. Very few beings could alter memories tied to the soul.

In a far off world dimensions away, Nadine sneezed.

The memory charm that had been performed on Dumbledore had been powerful indeed. Severus Snape was no novice wizard. Should he be allowed to grow, Dumbledore had no doubt that Snape would one day grow powerful enough to challenge one, if not both, of his Masters.

Snape would not grow. Dumbledore refused to allow it. With a feral growl that broke the typical cheerful attitude of the Headmaster, Dumbledore stood tall, his fist clenched at his side. Snape had vanished from the school but a week ago, and Dumbledore himself had been rather dazed during the time. The why was now clear to him.

"Mukuro… You grow more interesting with each passing moment. No matter. I've broken you a thousand times over. What's once more?"

Mukuro twirled the Elder Wand in his hands, a malicious gleam in the eyes of the Vongola Mist Guardian. He had set the pieces. He needed to draw out Tsunayoshi, Kyoya, and Byakuran to a field of his choosing, and wherever he drew them was unlikely to survive the clash.

He was never fond of the Ministry of Magic, or institutions of power in general. In this life, or even his last. Tsunayoshi was fortunate that Mukuro had never discovered this place, this school. Of course, there was the distinct possibility that it hadn't actually existed back in their own world.

Regardless, Mukuro would have destroyed it then just as he was planning to destroy it now. Such rampant corruption deserved to be torn down, and a world that could produce it deserved to be burned down right along side it.

However, before that wondrous display of carnage, he did have to take out the other players from the board. To do so, one needs bait. Very good bait, which was exactly what Mukuro had. He supposed any student could have done and Kyoya would have come running, therefore brining the other two. Kyoya was like that. Once he decided a place was his, he guarded it fiercely.

Any student would have done. Really. Well. Perhaps not Malfoy, but Mukuro digressed, this was a far more satisfying solution.

Sirius Black stared at him in horror, bound by numerous ropes to a chair Mukuro had confiscated from what these backward wizards considered to be a court. A gag was tied tightly around his head, leaving nothing but incoherent mumbles as Black shifted from fear to glaring at Mukuro in defiance every so often.

Mukuro grinned, twirling the Wand a few more times, feeling the utter power in it. This Wand… Was it part of this world's version of the Triniset? An object tied the very fabric, the very life force, of this world?

Mukuro suspected so.

Unfortunately, if that were the case, while being a powerful tool there would no doubt be two others to the set, two others just as if not more important with their own sets of skills. That, Mukuro could deal with, even if Dumbledore had another of the set hiding up his ridiculously long sleeves.

However, what Mukuro would not be able to handle would be a Triniset Administrator. He doubted one would interfere since they only seemed to act under the direst of circumstances and even Byakuran hadn't warranted it despite literally leveling an entire universe, but still. Mukuro was under no delusion that he could take an Administrator.

Hell, him, Dumbledore, and the rest of the Vongola combined wouldn't be enough. Kawahira had proven that rather bluntly with a raw display of power that surpassed all of them combined.

Eyes gleaming, he met Black's gaze without fear. Black himself looked away rapidly, no doubt fearing a Legilimency attack. How cute. As if Mukuro needed eye contact to force his way into another's head.

"My dear Sirius, worry not. I'll make sure you make it out of this alive!" Mukuro declared, happily patting the cut that he he had inflicted on Black's cheek. Black glared at him, seemingly forgetting that he wasn't supposed to stare into Mukuro's eyes. Or maybe not caring.

Black, for all Mukuro knew, was perfectly capable of deflecting mental attacks. He had survived years being tortured by Dementors, after all.

"Your existence is still important to me! And worry not, I may be using you to draw your little godson out, but I have no intention of cutting him down!" Mukuro assured him. Black's skepticism would win a bloody award. Mukuro smiled. "Kufufufu. My true goal… is vengeance against my creator, Sirius Black."

Summoning his trident in his free hand, Mukuro slammed it down as he glanced around at the Hall of Prophecy. Eyes gleaming with hatred, Mukuro felt the sigil on his eye shift as indigo colored flames exploded from him.

"Dumbledore… I'm going to enjoy killing you, this time around."

"So, how are we going to do this?"

"We could always fly. Ahaha, ahaha!

"I refuse to ride one of those broomsticks, samurai. Think of another idea!"

As much as it irked Kyoya, he had realized one thing over the years. There was strength in numbers. Numbers, in this case, being himself and the rest of the Vongola Guardians.

Kyoya shot a suspicious look at Ginny Weasley, pondering if bringing her was a good idea or not. However, the girl herself seemed to have as much resolve as Kyoya did in the matter, her eyes gleaming with an emotion Kyoya couldn't quiet place.

"Taking on Mukuro won't be simple. He's… He's basically holding what's probably this world's equivalent of the Mare Ring." Cedric informed them all with a grimace.

Even the sun idiot seemed to falter at the words. Kyoya, on the other hand, just hned.

"And how have you made this assessment?"

Cedric didn't answer. Instead, he shot a rather telling glance at the only female in the group. The cow brat, sans that annoying camera he always seemed to carry around, gaped at Ginny in shock. Kyoya growled.

"Byakuran was holding onto it tightly. It… Stands to reason, then, that the Elder Wand would be equivalent of the Mare Rings."

Then, the girl proceeded to explain exactly what sort of mess she'd created for them all, telling them in startling detail how she and Professor Snape, who had been mysteriously missing, had worked together to get the drop on Dumbledore, who was also apparently the most dangerous figure on the bloody playing board.

After several moments of stunned silence, a loud grating voice boomed. Kyoya resisted the urge to bite said voice to death. Attacking allies is an action that is frowned upon.

"SO DUMBLEDORE IS EXTREMELY NOT GOOD NEWS! How do we know he didn't EXTREMELY mess with Hibari's head and this wasn't his doing?!" George stated loudly.

Kyoya responded by pulling a mirror from his person, a fierce glare in his eyes as he stared right at the reflective surface.

"Pineapple." Kyoya intoned.

The surface of the mirror lit as Mukuro himself, his new snakelike feature hidden behind an illusion, appeared before them, a twitch mark appearing above his head.

"Skylark. I could have sworn I told you not to call me that."

Cedric then decided to commit suicide by ripping the mirror from a startled Kyoya's grasp. Kyoya stared blankly, part of his brain short circuiting, unable to comprehend the audacity of the omnivore.

"Ah! Sawada Tsunayoshi! I'd apologize for that business in the graveyard, but I doubt either of us would buy that!" Mukuro declared unabashed. In the background, Sirius fought against his bonds with increased fervency, desperate to get loose.

Cedric narrowed his eyes.

"Mukuro. Stop this, immediately! Why are you doing this?"

Mukuro's right eye glowed red, the Kanji for the number five engrained in it. Part of Tsuna had always found a sort of twisted amusement in the fact that the Human Path was more battle oriented than the Demon Path out of Mukuro's Six Paths ability.

"Because, Tsunayoshi. This world irks me. It's time to bring it all to an end. I look forward to meeting you all again!"

Then, Cedric was forced to drop the mirror as a flash of indigo flame seemed to pierce it from the other side, causing it to explode in an array of shards.

Cedric's expression darkness considerably.

"Boss?" Ginny asked, weary as Cedric's muscles seemed to pulse, his body shaking.

A single tear hit the stone beneath them as Cedric finally looked up, eyes the color of the sun as they flowed with orange light and flame erupted from his forehead and hands. Ginny flinched back from the gaze. Ignoring her, Cedric- or was it Tsuna now?- turned back towards Kyoya.

"Let's go. I've got an idea to get us there that doesn't involve brooms. It's time to finish this."

It was the moment that McGonagall came in screaming about an attack on the Order Headquarters, which shouldn't have been possible because it was under a Fidelus, but of course Mukuro had managed it, that Dumbledore realized things were becoming more serious.

Arriving, it took Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Moody working together to disable the assailant without killing him. Spells seemed to slide off their opponent, seemingly not touching him all, his expression feral as a the Kanji for six glowed in the right eye of Remus Lupin.

"Bloody hell! Remus, get a hold of yourself before we had to really harm you!"

McGonagall had gone the pleading route. As an instructor, she never took well to fighting former students, especially former students that were clearly not themselves.

The possessed Remus responded with a blasting curse.

Moody dodged about, chains blasting from his wand. Remus erected a barrier, not at all bothered as the chains began to wrap around the shield, looking for any opening to pierce through and strike at their target.

Enough of this.

With a powerful blast of sky flame, Dumbledore strode forth. Remus dodged back as Dumbledore raised his back up wand above his head, a silver Chinese dragon forming above him. Dumbledore thrusted his wand forward and the dragon obeyed, shooting out like a serpent, a growl on its lips.

Red flames burst from Remus' wand, shattering it in the process. The disintegration effect of Storm Flames, however, wasn't enough. The dragon tore through, wrapping around Remus stronger than any chain as the werewolf was forced to his knees.

Dumbledore stepped forward as Remus began to laugh, loud and hard, the red eye glowing ever more. An unwavering glare met his as Remus- no, Mukuro possessing Remus, smiled up at Dumbledore.

"It's begun, Byakuran! You wanted to make me a monster in this world, because you thought it would be amusing!" Remus cackled a laughter that was not his own. "Well, a monster you wanted and a monster you have!" the expression lost all mirth, growing dark. "It's time to end this, Byakuran. I meet you… At the beginning."

Then, with one last smile, Mukuro released his victim. Remus pitched forth as awareness flooded back into his eyes, his will and body belonging once more to him.

Byakuran seethed. That upstart was becoming more troublesome by the second. Perhaps this little experiment hadn't been the brightest of ideas, but what could Byakuran say? He'd been bored.

Glancing around at the ruined remains of Grimmauld Place, Byakuran gazed at each of the survivors. Moody ha Darold his own even after Fletcher, Tonks, and Doge had all been disabled rather brutally, leaving their wounded bodies strewn across the battlefield.

Mukuro had, surprisingly, stopped himself from actually killing anyone here, and Byakuran doubted that had been an accident. The words of the posses Remus seemed to be making circulation, and Byakuran pretended to not notice the suspicious glare Moody shot him.

Regardless, their next course of action was clear.

"Voldemort had begun his attack. No doubt he meant to draw our attention here. We must hasten to stop whatever-" Byakuran began.

"The Hall or Prophecy!" Remus shouted out. Eyes turned to the still bound werewolf. "He… He took Sirius. He made me take Sirius. He's drawing Harry to the Hall. He's… He's making his move, tonight." Remus revealed, his face stark and pale as the after effects of the possession began to shake him.

The Hall of Prophecy.

Byakuran resisted the urge to toss his head back and laugh. Mukuro intended to draw them towards the beginning, he really did. Back to what began this little game. A little sphere, a little Prophecy, and words of power and destiny binding fate to its whim. Very well. If that was what Mukuro wanted, then Byakuran was willing to play along.

Ultimately, games are only fun when you have a worthy opponent, and Mukuro was a very fun opponent.

Chapter Text

A/N: This one I've had on for ages, but I decided to cross post it here as well.


Warnings: KOTOR Spoiler Warnings, homophobia, gender fluid individual.

Chapter 21

Revan, Part 1

Darth Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith.

Revan, mother, wife, father, husband.

Revan, the Grey Knight.

Revan, Savior of the Republic. Revan, Champion of the Mandalorian Wars. Revan, The Conqueror.

Revan, the gender-confused child.

Revan could not remember dying. Revan could not remember his- or her- fate. Revan couldn't even tell what gender he/she wanted to be, and it was utterly infuriating. At least the Dursley's were slightly helpful.

Weak minded, they bent easily to the former Dark Lord's will, despite whatever barriers that had been erected around this household fighting against his/her control. Or current Dark Lord. Revan was still debating that issue. On the one hand, being a Dark Lord had been fun. No inhibitions, nothing holding Revan back, the entire Galaxy under Revan's heel, everything that he/she had ever wanted at his/her fingertips.

On the other hand…

Revan remembered choosing the light.

There hadn't been power down that road.

There hadn't been glory.

That moment where he/she had stood above the rest of the Sith, the worship in their eyes. The malice in his/her bones, churning in relish as the Jedi Order was at last shattered, both had been lost to Revan in those paths.

Following the Light had ended with his/her destruction at the hands of the Sith Emperor. But, Revan had not died. No. Revan had preserved on. How, Revan had no clue, but the Force was all Revan needed to know that falling at the Emperor's hand was not his/her end.

But still, but still… In those realities.

He/she had found love. Revan had been happy. Revan had been content. Revan had been died with a smile on his/her face, because even in death Revan had known that his/her actions meant that Carth and Bastilla would live.

Revan's difficulty in this was not that he/she remembered his/her past life. No, Revan's difficulty was that he/she remembered four different versions. Twice, Revan had walked down the dark path. Twice, Revan had walked in light. In both scenario's, factors remained the same.

If Revan ever walked down the dark path again, he/she would make sure not to drown in it like last time, and there was no denying that he/she had been utterly consumed. He/she had cackled in joy when he/she had forced Zalbaar to murder his closest friend. The euphoria he/she had felt at that moment…

It was sickening, especially since regardless of the timeline, Revan had once loved Mission Vao if not as a daughter, as a very close friend.

Revan decided in that moment to refer to himself as male. At least, for now. Despite having memories of living a full life as a woman, twice, Revan had been born male in this life.

Of course, if Revan could figure out a way to change genders at will, he'd totally go for it. While he was comfortable as a boy, he missed being a woman. Silently, he wondered if it would be the same if he'd been born a girl in this life instead of a boy and he'd have had the desire to become a boy again.

This was so confusing.

"Aunt Petunia?" Revan spoke.

The woman in question clenched her teeth.

"Yes, bo- Harry?"

Revan could have, of course, bent the Dursley's completely to his will. But, where's the fun in that when scaring them into submission was so much better? Watching his aunt struggle to treat him like an actual human being was hilarious.

"What does it mean if I want to dress up like a girl?" with a subtle mind push, Revan made sure his aunt would tell the truth.

"It means you're a gender confused freak and a filthy homosexual! Disgusting, not just magic but this? How utterly-"

"Okay, thanks Aunt Petunia!" Revan smiled, snapped his fingers, and watched as a glazed look overcame his aunt. Then, she went on cleaning as if nothing had happened, forgetting the boy in his entirety.

Revan frowned.

Okay, asking Aunt Petunia had been a useless endeavour, although Revan could have probably guessed that from the start. Aunt Petunia's hatred of magic caused her to hate anything she didn't perceive as normal. Revan was also half convinced the church the Dursley's attended was actually a cult, but he couldn't be bothered to find out or not.

If it was any danger to him, the Force would have warned him long ago. Content with that, Revan quite simply could not be bothered with the issue.

Perhaps this 'Hogwarts' place he had basically ripped out of his Aunt's mind could be of use?

Revan blinked up at the giant.

Interestingly, he could not read the creature's mind. This man wasn't fully human. For the first time in Revan's existence, he understood his former Master's frustration with non-human entities.

"Yer a Wizard, Harry!"

"... Is that what you people call it?"


"Nothing, nothing. Let's go!"

Several hours later and after Revan had been dropped off back at Privet Drive, Revan was forced to excuse himself to the bathroom, where he proceeded to vomit, repeatedly.

Whoever had created that stone Hagrid had retrieved…

Revan's eyes glowed red.


There are few things capable of shocking someone like Revan.

In all honesty, this… This was one of them.

Because… How? Just, how?

The second Revan had stepped onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters, he had felt them. Force presences he thought he'd never feel again. Dormant, but there. Drawing out his senses and expanding them as far as his body would allow him, Revan searched far and wide. He had always been strong in the Force.

If there were more, he'd-


One. One more. Five in total. Five people that he'd known. He couldn't exactly pinpoint who they were, not yet, but five-

"Excited Exclamation: Master, it is a pleasure to see you alive!"

There was just one thing Revan could not for the life of him fathom.


"Eager Response: Yes, Master? Is there someone you need killed? A task you need completed, hopefully one that shall end in the termination of hostilities?"

"... How the bloody Sithspawn did you get reincarnated as a human?"

"Woeful Declaration: Oh Master! You wound me so! Please, do not mention my current tragic status as a Meatbag! The state I am in is most pitiful! Do not look! Do not look!"

Harry Potter had been reincarnated as Revan, who remembered four separate timelines.

His best friend, of course, had been reincarnated as… HK-47.

The doors to the compartment opened.

"Hey Ron, we're going down the middle of the train- Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

Revan resisted the urge to jump in shock as HK-47 actually mumbled out his next word, "Right…"

The twins then proceeded to introduce themselves and Revan waved back before turning on HK.

"What the hell was that?"

"Answer: Survival, Master! Those two could rival you in their deviousness! WHy, they nearly killed me several times. I must pretend to be an ordinary meatbag should I hope to survive."

Revan blinked. Then, he smirked.

"HK… I think I've found the perfect pair to pass my legacy down to."

"Statement: Master, your cruelty has not diminished one iota since we last met. I am pleased."


"Slytherin? But she's a Muggleborn!"

Revan noted the word in his mind. He also took note of the word 'Mudblood' as Hermione Granger made her way down to the Slytherin table, murmurs and whispers spread across the Hall.

Revan wasn't sure how he felt about Granger.


His gaze momentarily focused on the Slytherin's.

If they hurt her… He would show them the true wrath of a Sith Lord.

"Greengrass, Daphne!"

Revan narrowed his eyes. The blond girl turned, met his eyes once, and smiled. Frowning, he attempted to read her mind only to-


Barrier? A metal barrier, capable of stopping him?

What sort of eleven year old was capable of blocking out a Sith Lord?

Revan didn't bother breaking said barrier. Even he could tell that he'd have trouble with it, even if he had no doubt in his own abilities.


Again, eyebrows were raised and murmurs filled the hall as a proud Pureblood Heir, whose family had been sorted into Slytherin for generations, made her way down to the House of the Badgers.

"Longbottom, Neville!"


Neville, glaring death at anyone who looked at him sideways, made his way to the Gryffindor table. Then, he turned his head, looked straight at Revan, and gave him a look of loathing and betrayal.

Revan Raised a single eyebrow and mind probed him.

Out of my head, Sith!

Revan blinked. Well. Interesting. Revan ignored the pang of pain that ripped at his chest. The Sith, the Jedi, they don't feel emotions such pain. The Sith rebel in agony and the Jedi block out emotion all together.

"Potter, Harry!"

Revan's sorting didn't take long at all. He'd already decided, and couldn't be bothered with a mind probe from an ancient magical device.


Revan smiled.

The House of Thinkers. Yes, he'd fit in there. The House of Ambition might have worked as well, the House of Loyalty as well, but definitely not Gryffindor. They stunk of self righteousness. Revan had met Master Vrook. It had taken every effort not to slay the man in each of his lifetimes. No way in hell that he would join an entire House that reflected that sentiment.

"Weasley, Ronald!"



"There must be some mistake," Ron began and Revan could practically hear the Weasley's sigh in relief, "I'm suppose to be in Ravenclaw."

Said sigh died right then and there and was drowned out by pure silence.


Revan blinked up at Snape.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Revan continued to blink up at the Professor.

"It seems fame isn't every-," Snape began, shaking his head in disappointment.

"They're the same plant, right? I'm pretty sure they're the same plant," Revan interrupted, pretending to flip through nonexistent notes for the sole purpose of having a legitimate reason to speak over Snape. "Yep, same plant." Revan confirmed, smiling up at the man.

Snape clenched a single fist. How in the name of Hecate had Potter- cheated. Yes, he must have cheated. No matter. Snape would catch the bloody brat.

"A bezoar can be found-"

"Stomach of a goat. Real nasty, too. Have you ever gutted an animal? Not nice. Although, you won't believe what you can find in the gut of a Kath Hound."

"Please, try a bloody Cannok. I swear…"

Revan swerved his head.

Who said that?!

"Potter!" Snape snapped.

"Yes, mother?" Revan turned back to the professor. He could literally see Snape struggling to keep his control.

"Five points from Ravenclaw for cheek," Snape bit out. "Now, Potter… What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Revan scrunched his eyebrows.

"No answer? Well-"

"You bitterly regret Lily's death? Who's Lily?"

Snape staggered back, eyes wide. Silently, he leaned against his desk, eyes focused on the wood.

"Um, Professor? You haven't an-"

"Out." Snape's voice was a deadly whisper.


"Out… Out, all of you!" Snape thundered as he shot up, "Get out, get out, get out!"

The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws need not be told twice. They were out the door before Snape had even finished speaking.

"Nice going, General."

Revan turned his head faster than a Rancor that had just detected fresh meat. Unfortunately, whoever had whispered the words was long gone.

"How'd you get Snape to freak out like that, Harry?" Stephen Cornfoot, one of Revan's dormated, asked.

Harry? Oh, right. That was Revan's new name.

"No clue," Revan shrugged, all the while deep in thought.


Who was Lily?

Revan had met many darkside entities across the years. He had trained acolytes, come across their spirits, confronted perhaps the most powerful Sith Lord ever born. Okay, so he hadn't survived the last one, but still.

Revan had once had the displeasure of coming across Darth Nihilus. Revan hadn't bothered trying to fight that one, at all. There is no fighting an abomination like that. He had considered setting it on the SIth Empire. No doubt Nihilus would fall, but he'd take down several Sith worlds down with him.

This thing, however…

This reminded him of Malak. It reminded him of Sion. It reminded him of Nihilus. It reminded him Valkorion. All four, mixed into an amalgamation that made him physically sick.

"Can… Can I be excused, Professor?"

"O- of co-course, Pot-t-ter. Would anyone-"

"I'll take him, Professor."

"Than-n-k you, Mrs. Green-gr-grass."

"Come, general."

Revan's eye snapped up. Ah. He'd found one. Considering the fire he could see in the eyes of the girl and how he could barely detect her presence in the Force no matter how hard he tried, this could only be one person.

"Shut up, Meetra."

A hand smacked the back of his head.

"Where you the one who changed the records to that dreadful name? I swear… I become a Force Ghost, go to the future, stop an apocalypse… And everyone is convinced my name is Meetra."

Revan winced.

Okay, so maybe he had HK-47 hack the historical records as a joke. Let it not be said that Revan does not have a sense of humor. He programmed his personal droid to call humans and other living organisms 'meatbag', afterall.

"What is he?"

"Like Nihilus- did you meet Nihilus? Like that, only worse. I can feel it. The Force has bound us for some reason, not that you'd understan- how the bloody kriff-"

The Jedi Exile had interrupted Revan's spiel by using the force to lift the desks in the empty classroom she had dragged him into.

"I regained the Force after you left. I met your old Master, too. And Nihilus. Killed him, actually."

Revan could only gape.

"You killed that monster? But how!"

Daphne's eyes met his.

"To kill a Force Wound… You need another Force Wound."

Her eyes glowed, and Revan made the mistake of looking into them.

Dark, empty, an abyss. The Death of the Force, the death of all life, the Death of all existence.


"You did this to me, General. You intended to kill me that day at Malachor, I'm sure," Revan did not bother denying it. Such an influential figure… The Exile could have torn apart his Empire from the inside out had she opposed him, the Force bonds she had forged splitting his army in two. "Fear not. I don't resent you for it. Losing the Force, living without it, was perhaps the best thing that ever happened to me," Daphne spoke as she stood. Without looking at her former comrade, she made her way to the door. Then, she turned her head to look Revan in the eye. "Know this, however… Should I see a hint that the Dark Lord you once were is about to return… I am a Jedi, Revan. I have always been a Jedi. I alone saw the horrors of the Mandalorian Wars and chose to walk away. I alone did not turn on our fellow Jedi. We shall see who the victor shall be, you, the Life of the Force, or me, it's Death."

With that, the Exile slammed the door, leaving Revan alone to his thoughts.

Revan was quite the explorer. As such, he'd found the most wonderful room in the entire school. It produced anything and everything he wanted at just a thought. The Force worked oddly on this planet. This magic, Revan wanted to study it more. He had always been a knowledge hungry student and hungered for more even now.

Currently, he was using said room to try dresses in front of a mirror.

"Statement: Your desire to wear clothes of the opposite gender astounds me, Master. Are you one of these… How are they called… Transgender individuals?"

"I think genderfluid fits me better, HK. How goes the plan to assassinate Quirrell?"

"Lament: I am afraid, Master, that all known poisons have failed! I even shot at the target once, although it bounced of an energy field he had somehow constructed."

That poison most definitely had not been ineffective. Revan knew that for a fact. He'd felt the after effects for a week.

"Pass me that dress?"

"Worried Statement: Of course, Master."

"Worried? Why so?" Revan asked as he stripped.

"Answer: You remind me of the Exile, Master. She too seems content to come into this room and dress as a male. Most curious."

Revan froze.

"You mean… I'm not alone in the whole remembering different versions of my past? The Exile is gender confused too?"

"Bewildered Statement: But of course, Master. She too remembers both lives as a man and as a woman and walking down the light and the dark in each of those existences."

This… This was getting odder by the minute. Meetra too remembered her past? Not just in one lifetime, but in multiple timelines, just like Revan did?

"Statement: I too remember. I was there when both of you embraced the darkness." HK revealed. Wait… Both? HK had traveled with the Exile as well? "Joyful Plea: Can we do it again, Master? I wish to permanently tan this skin, not in sunlight, but in the blood of your enemies!"

Revan considered.

"You can drown yourself in the blood of Death Eaters?"

"Conclusion: Oh Master, you are most wonderful! I now believe I shall ignore the Exile's command to blast you repeatedly should you step a toe out of line!"

"Wait, what?"

"Is that… Is that Potter?

"Can't be. That's a girl."

"Long lost sister?"

"The girl who lived?"

"Wait… What if he had a twin… And she was taken in by Death Eaters that night!"

And, just like that, the hall descended into chaos, every new rumor even more insane than the last. Revan was honestly impressed. She should have hired the Hogwarts students from propaganda against the Jedi Order. They'd of made wonders.


An explosion sounded above. As one, the students ducked under the house tables as light burst from the Headmaster's wand. Once they had settled down, Dumbledore and, indeed, the school, turned as one towards Revan. Had Revan been anyone else, she would have squirmed in her seat at all the attention. However, Revan had been a war hero that, on some worlds, had been revered as a literal god.


This was nothing.

"Mr. Potter, would you care to explain?"

"I decided to be a girl for a day," Revan replied.

"... Why?"

"Because I was tired of the sausage swinging between my legs. You do know that's a weak spot right? Besides," Revan swung her hair over her shoulder, "I'm fabulous."

Yes. Revan had indeed discovered a gender changing potion at last that would last a good six hours. Then, without missing a beat, Revan turned and chucked a vial at Daphne. The girl caught it out of reflex and blinked down. "For you, my dear. Forgive me for that one thing?"

Daphne responded with a glare but chugged said vial anyways.

Rita Skeeter was utterly thrilled when she learned first hand that Harry Potter, the Harry Potter, had decided to take a gender switching potion and had even caused several other students to do the same. Of course, she wrote over half just to terrify parents, but still.

How it had come to this was beyond Revan. Either way, the moment had come.


This Force Bond. It was stronger than any Revan had ever known. Even Daphne was weirded out by its strength. Revan could not kill Voldemort. He wouldn't even bother trying. It just would not work.

So just how had Revan ended up in this predicament?

"Tell me Potter, what do you see!"

Quirrell shoved Revan in front of the mirror. Revan glared at him before looking at the mirror. Revan was forced to take a step back.

There… There, Revan saw all his companions. He saw Bastilla draped under one of his arms, Carth under the other, Mission to the side smirking, Zalbaar, HK, T3, Canderous, Jolee, Juhani… All of them, standing there and smiling. Not just them, no. The Exile was there too, and there was no anger in her gaze, just respect. Malak stood off to the sidelines, jaw intact, smiling. Darth Traya- no, Kreia, before Revan had twisted her too, happily standing to the side.


This mirror…

This mirror was a lie.

Revan roared.

The Professor was flung back and the mirror gave a shudder before breaking apart. From the shards fell a single red stone. Revan's gaze fixed on it, on the living Wound in the Force, and he gave a shudder.

One Wound, he could deal with. Two, he could deal with. That stone and Voldemort, however, weren't tiny wounds. Whatever Voldemort had done to himself had rendered him with a darker Force presence than the Sith Emperor, and that stone… Revan could hear the screams. It reminded him of Malachor, of the Mandalorian Wars, of the Dark Side which he had come to reject.

Because of that, he didn't see the Killing Curse that came flying at him.

On the bright side, that pesky Force Bond was gone by the time Revan woke up in the infirmary.

On the other hand…

The Dark Lord had been reborn, three years early, greater and more terrible than ever before.

Chapter Text

A/N: Hey all! I'm back. This one gave me some serious block. So I decided to work on a few other stories, specifically, the Kingdom Hearts ones while occasionally tossing something else into the mix. Anyways, here's the conclusion of the KHR Arc, although the end line I've got makes me tempted to write a spin off, if only a short one.

Published: 2/17/2018

Warnings: Manga Spoilers

Reincarnation Cheat Sheet!

Kyoya: Harry

Tsuna: Cedric

Yamamoto: Fred

Ryohei: George

Chrome: Ginny

Gokudera: Seamus

Lambo: Collin

Mukuro: Voldemort

Byakuran: Dumbledore

Chapter 22

Hibari Kyoya V

Mukuro loved it when everything went according to plan. Watching every single little manipulation that he had made bare the fruit that he wanted was just a wonderful feeling.

Draw in Potter.

Draw in Dumbledore.

Draw them here, to the Ministry. Strike at them both, and tear the world asunder.

This world… Mukuro would destroy it. He would destroy it all. He would destroy it, because it was twisted. It was a broken thing, and deserved to be burned to the ground. This sorry excuse for a planet would be repainted. Repainted in colors and images Mukuro liked, rather than what it was now.

The rampant corruption would be stripped away. Mukuro would make sure of that. He would destroy it. He would destroy it all. He was going to make the world anew.

To do that, he needed power. He needed the pieces of a set, two of which he currently held.

Mukuro twisted the Gaunt Ring in his hands.

"How utterly mad must I have been, not to have realized the gem I possessed?"

Upon awakening, one of Mukuro's first acts had been to seek out his Horcruxes and absorb from them the soul shards he had left sealed in them. He still hadn't found that blasted Locket, which was a problem he would deal with later, but he had successfully tracked down the others.

Except the Diary. Lucius Malfoy hadn't quiet recovered from the horrors Mukuro had subjected his mind to for that particular blunder.

Mukuro, unlike Voldemort, realized that splitting his soul in such a way would not only decrease his own over all power, but deteriorate his own mental stability. It was such a relief to have those pieces of himself back. Such a relief, and the flow of power each and every one sent coursing through his body was an utter godsend.

However, now, things were going to be a little more… Chaotic.

Mukuro grinned.

This ring…

Flames exploded from it.

"Vongola Ring. Kufufufufu. What an odd world. Two, out of the set… And, the power is far more concentrated. Two objects, rather than power split seven ways. Or… No…" Mukuro briefly considered their being more objects to this Trinset, but waived it off.

The wand in his right hand throbbed with power. The Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the most powerful weapon in all of creation. How it worked had eluded generations, but Mukuro, Mukuro understood.

He could feel the power from it, channeling forth.

The Gift of the Mare.

The Gift of Alternate Realities, and to Shift Sideways. The Elder Wand wouldn't grant Mukuro such a power, he knew. There was simply no way. The damn thing would chose who it would bestow such abilities to, and Mukuro had no doubt that the full extent of its abilities would only be wielded by Byakuran. Regardless, in his hands, it did give him a considerable boost.

A wand, that draws magic and energy from an infinite amount of alternative worlds, alternative paths, all leading here, to this point.

In his other hand, Mukuro eyed the Gaunt Ring.

The Stone of Resurrection, with the power to call on the spirits of the past.

The Gift of the Vongola.

The Gift of Time, to see into the past and draw strength, draw power from it. This ring held the strength, the power, of all it's wielders. It held the ability to do more than that, held the ability to summon spirits from the other side, the power to break Death's embrace, if only for a moment, and draw shades to this world.

Only Tsunayoshi would be able to draw out it's true strength, annoyingly enough.

However, the most important piece was missing. The most vital part of the Trinset, the completing piece, what truly defines reality.

This world's version of the Arcobaleno Pacifiers.

That is what Mukuro needed. That is what he needed to ascend, as he planned to do so. Funny. This is what Byakuran had intended to do a trillion times over, and for what? To remake the world in his image? Mukuro himself wasn't going to bother trying to understand it. Byakuran had razed so many worlds that the death count was incountable.

True, Mukuro did intent to burn this world down, but only so that it could be reborn. Like a phoenix, out with the old and in with the new, a new reality that Mukuro would build.

Never. Never again would he allow another magical child to suffer like he did. Never again would he allow any child to suffer, period. Never again would he stand bye and watch as the ugliness of this world tore at everything good and precious. Not when it was within his power to stop it.

Mukuro would destroy it all, if that's what it took. And, he fully intended to do just that.

Kyoya knew damn well that he was walking into a trap. They all did. Mukuro had been rather blunt about the whole ordeal, leading them here through a hostage and all. Which had been way too easy, now that Kyoya considered it.

Sirius Black was currently being carried by George. There had, of course, been a couple of Death Eaters, but they hadn't amounted to much. That really couldn't have been it, right? Sure, against a group of school kids, they may have seemed threatening, but against them?

Seamus had literally blasted them all to pieces on his own, no aid needed. It had been such a one sided slaughter that Kyoya was sure Mukuro had explicitly sent his worst after them.

Literal cannon fodder.

And, just like Kyoya predicted, the unexpected rounded the corner as they made their way back into the Ministry Atrium, only to come across Albus Dumbledore of all people leading the Order of the Phoenix.

"Harry! What are you doing here! You need to leave!" Remus demanded.

Kyoya sneered. Before he could respond, however, Cedric strode forth. Kyoya, along with everyone else in the room, really, froze. In this life and the last, Cedric Diggory had always exuded a calm, friendly, inviting aura. Warm and welcoming. The kind of person you'd turn to if you needed help, needed aid.

That kindness was nowhere to be found now.

Kyoya idly noticed that wherever Cedric stepped, the ground burned.

This wasn't Cedric Diggory anymore. This wasn't even Sawada Tsunayoshi. No. This was the Neo Vongola Primo, reborn.

Eyes burning with a furious orange flames tinged with black glared right at Dumbledore and, for a moment, Kyoya saw the end. This was the end of all things. The end of existence, the end of reality, because those eyes… Those eyes promised utter destruction. Eyes twinged with a darkness Kyoya never once considered he'd see in Tsuna.

Nightmare Flames.

"Byakuran… I'm going to tear you limb from limb for what you've done." The Vongola Primo promised, amber flames blasting all around him, scorching the ground and illuminating the entire room as literally everyone, Kyoya included, took a step back. Byakuran himself, or Dumbledore as he preferred to be called in this life, only narrowed his eyes.

"Sawada. Diggory. Giotto. Which one are you, I wonder? All three, perhaps?" Dumbledore, unbelievably, smiled, extending his arms out on either side of him in a sort of mock greeting.

Even Kyoya had to admit a grudging edge of respect. Anyone who could stare down Tsunayoshi while the latter was shifting from adorable little marshmallow to something resembling al Eldritch Abomination deserved a medal.

"In our first life, you were the reincarnation of Giotto, your ancestor. Yet here, what are you, Sawada Tsunayoshi? That nobel blood that drove you is gone. You-"

Dumbledore stopped speaking. It's rather difficult to speak when there's a fist being driven into your stomach. The air around them rippled with the force of Tsuna's speed as his burning fist smashed fight into the Headmaster. Dumbledore was blasted away before seemingly stopping in mid air, twisting around as a pair of angel wings burst from his back.

Blood fell from the old man's lips, falling into that never ending beard of his as he glared at his opponent, mirth gone.

Tsuna growled, eyes feral. There was no recognition in those eyes. No acknowledgement. No. Everything else had been drowned out by blind rage.

The Order responded by training their wands on Tsuna, not that he noticed them. At the same time, another blow to Dumbledore's character struck them.


This was the second time in the last few hours that they had heard Dumbledore referred to as such. What did it mean?

Then, it was all interrupted by the sound of clapping.

Tsuna spun as Mukuro appeared behind him, but he didn't move quick enough. A hand clasped onto his arm as Mukuro heaved. The Vongola Guardians moved as their leader was flung right at them by a joyful Mukuro.

"Oh, how wonderful! You're all here! All my enemies, gathered here tonight!"

"Pineapple owl. I will bite you to death." Kyoya growled, stalking forth. Tsuna's hand, still lit with fire, appeared before him, halting the motion. Kyoya paused, turning to look towards the Sky.

Tsuna wasn't looking at him, though. Tsuna's eyes were locked firmly on Mukuro.

"Mukuro… Voldemort… Whoever you are, stop this. We don't have to do this. There's another way. We-"

"There is no other way for me, Tsunayoshi. I'm too far gone on this twisted path. I'm not the child you were so desperate to save all those years ago. I'm a grown man, who's walked in the dark for far too long. Redemption is an impossibility for me." Mukuro interrupted cooly, and, for a moment, the illusion cracked. Snake like skin, glowing red eyes, and grey skin, hidden beneath a facade. Mukuro twisted his body slightly so that he wasn't facing either side, unwilling to keep his back to any of his enemies.

With a glare, Mukuro shot a murderous look towards Dumbledore.

"You… You made sure of that, didn't you?" Mukuro spoke. The Order was slowly starting to lose composure. What was going on? "Yes, I made all the choices. Yes, I walked willingly into the dark. But you… You knew what buttons to push, you knew exactly the right words, exactly the right actions, to push me further. To make me drown. Why? Why would you… Why? Just, why?" Mukuro's voice had become a soft, desperate flee.

Kyoya didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. So much unlike the annoying pineapple.

Dumbledore's face broke into a wide, mad grin.

"Why? Because, it was fun, my boy."

Everything came to a grinding halt. As one, the Order, the reborn Vongola, hell, the morning Ministry personal that had just made it to work in time to here the words, froze.

Dumbledore himself blinked.

Mukuro snarled.

"I apologize, Sawada, Skylark. This one… This one, I'll kill myself. And, I can't have any of you interfering."

With those words, a wand slipped into Mukuro's hands. Drawing it back, he slammed the tip onto the surface of the dark ring on his finger, and the entire world shifted as spiritual energy blasted forth.

Tsuna coughed.

What was that? What had Mukuro done? The second he had slammed the wand tip into the ring, the whole world around them had seemingly shifted. One look up told him all he needed to know.

Tsuna rapidly lost all color, his flames fizzling around him.

No… No, anything but this… No…

"The Elder Wand. The Miracle of the Mare. It pulls power from Alternate Realities, making the impossible possible." Mukuro intoned. "The Resurrection Stone, pulling spirits from the past, shades if you will. The Miracle of the Vongola, drawing strength from the past." Mukuro continued.


This was…

Tsuna grit his teeth, standing to full height.

Before him, the other stood.


This was a fight Tsuna wasn't sure he could win. He wasn't sure any of the others could win their respective fights either. Absently, he noticed the exits begin to seal as Death Eaters began to pop up, one after the other. The Minister of Magic himself looked like he wanted to piss himself, trapped in what was likely about to become a bloodbath.

Tsuna could worry about others later. Right now, he had to worry about surviving.

"Combine them… And the impossible can be made." Mukuro concluded, and Tsuna was very tempted to let Kyoya bite him to death when this was all over.

The Adult Reborn, or rather, his shade, stood before Tsuna, gun cocked in his hands, that familiar fedora on his head. Elsewhere, he could see that he wasn't the only one to get a summoned opponent.

Fon stood before Hibari.

Ryohei stood in the literal crosshairs of Colonnello's riffle.

Colin took a step back as Levi pulled one of those swords he was so fond of carrying out.

Yamamoto was already locking swords with Squalo, blue fire erupting around them as the pair of swordsmen yet again faced off against one another.

Chrome, surprisingly, didn't have an opponent. All the better since she could guard the wounded Sirius better.

The worst, however, was poor Gokudera.

"Hayato!" Bianchi's spirit greeted cheerfully.

"Aneki!" Seamus cried and… Promptly collapsed due to stomach cramps. Tsuna sweat dropped.

Around the room, screams erupted as the Order clashed against the Death Eaters. Looking up, Tsuna saw Mukuro striding towards Dumbledore, his trident materializing in his hands as the Headmaster summoned another of those flame dragons he was so fond of.

Shit. Tsuna needed to stop this. He needed to-

"You're opponent is me, Dame-Tsuna. Don't look away, or I'll kill you myself."

Tsuna only barely managed to move as his tutor came flying at him, the gun his hands transforming into a knife as he closed the distance in record time. Shit, shit, shit.

This was it. This was the end.

Mukuro would bring this all to an end.

Albus Dumbledore was nowhere near as spry as Byakuran had been. He made up for it, however, in raw power. This was the second time Mukuro had dueled with this psychopath, but this time was different, far different.

For one, Mukuro had the benefit of having an actual body to fight with instead of forcing to use a possessed teenager like last time due to imprisonment over a few minor incidencies.

Really, all Mukuro had done was murder the people that had experimented horrifically on him, after which he had proceeded to kill several people who hadn't really had anything to do with it but had annoyed Mukuro anyways. Had that been so bad?

Dumbledore dodged back, vanishing from one spot to the next, that dragon of his swirling around the battlefield, trying to wrap around Mukuro, past his defenses. The rage in the old man's eyes was exquisite.

"What's wrong, Byakuran? Displeased that your true nature was revealed before so many after decades of making yourself look like the nice little grandfather figure?" Mukuro mocked.

"I don't know how you forced me to speak those words, but I'm going to kill you for it."

Mukuro laughed.

"Of course, of course. That's all you know how to do, correctly? How blessed, you were. A gift, granted to you." Mukuro spun, his trident smashing into the dragon, sending it flying back. It crashed against Tonks and Macnair both, the two having been locked in a duel. Mukuro turned back towards Dumbledore as he strode forth casually through the utter chaos of the Ministry.

"The power to gaze into alternate realities. The power to gain power from them, to have a united conscious through a trillion worlds. The power to know how all the secrets, all the discoveries, all the ways to make the world a better place. And, what did you do with this gift, Byakuran?"

The pair of them lifted their wands at the exact same time. Fire flares against water, steam exploding around them. From the steam, Mukuro conjured snakes, which Dumbledore easily disposed off before spinning, blocking a blow from the oncoming trident aimed for his throat.

A flash of orange flames forced Mukuro back lest he get burned.

"What did you do with your gift! Tell me, what did you do!"

The earth rose around them, shooting forth towards Mukuro. Stone transfigured into beasts, animals of all kinds.

Azure flame blasted from Mukuro, leaving the poor creature docile as red flame followed, leaving them nothing more than disintegrated scraps.

"You destroyed the world! Again and again and again! You ripped apart universes, because that, Byakuran, is who you are at heart! A trillion worlds that you could have made better, instead laid waste in ruin because you, of all people, were granted that gift!"

Dumbledore wasn't fast enough. Mukuro was younger, quicker, and he had more advantages. Dumbledore had been bested by Snape and by Ginny because he had grown arrogant in his own strength, in his own power.

Power, he had in droves. Stamina, however, he did not.

Dumbledore's new, or old depending on how you look at it, wand shattered into pieces, the magical energy from it blasting forth around the room as the Headmaster slammed right into the Ministry's little statue of union.

Mukuro's flames shifted. Indigo was drowned. Drowned by the night. Drowned by the darkness coiling in his heart.

So… This is what Daemon had meant. What Bermuda had meant. These flames… Mukuro could feel it. Twisted, broken fire, born of hatred. Born from the deepest depths of ones soul, born from the fires of hell itself.

If Sky Flames could be considered flames of the heavens, then Nightmare Flames could be considered flames of the hell.

Dumbledore fell, a coughing broken mess before him, and Mukuro could only feel vindictive glee. Around them, the raging battle paused, all coming to a stand still for this. For this one, pivotal moment that would shape the fate of the Wizarding World.

Dumbledore, for once, was looking at him in fear. The other had realized it then. He had realized that this was it. This was the end. Mukuro would kill him. No. Mukuro would do worse than that. He would send this bastard right down into the deepest depths of hell, just like Mukuro had been made to experience all those years ago when his own family had experimented on his soul.

Experiments which made him experiment heaven and hell. The six paths of reincarnation. Mukuro wouldn't give Byakuran all of that, no. There was only one path Byakuran needed to experience in full.

Eternal agony was a fitting punishment for this monster.

Yes. This was it. Finally, after all this time, Mukuro would have what he wanted. At long last, he would have his revenge, he would-

Arms wrapped around his back. Mukuro froze.

"Stop- please, stop!"

You could hear a pin drop in the room. A teenage girl wrapping her arms willingly around the Dark Lord tends to do that.

"Chrome… Let me go."

"I won't! I won't let you do this to yourself, Mukuro-sama! I won't let you become like him! I-"

Mukuro broke from the grasp. Spinning around, he smashed the blunt edge of his trident into Ginny's chest. The redhead gasped as he was flung back.

"Don't you dare tell me what I can and cannot do! I-"


Mukuro froze. Slowly, he turned around. Dumbledore's body hit the floor.

"There. That annoying false carnivore is finally out of the way." Harry Potter declared, unbothered completely by the fact that he had just snapped someone's neck. Purple eyes met Mukuro's. "I've wanted to fight you for real for a very long time." Potter's expression became hungry.

Mukuro's grip on his trident became vice like.

"I'm going to enjoy this. Come. Give me all you have, and no more tric-"


Then, pandemonium fell as red flames swirled about in all directions, blinding all.



Crimson. Storm Flames. Element, disintegration. Holy-

Mukuro blinked as only his trident was destroyed. What? He hadn't had enough time, enough warning to create a defense, to-

"I'll be taking those."

Mukuro only had a second to look up as a hand slammed into his chest and he knew no more.

Kyoya twitched.

He did not like having his fights interrupted. He especially did not like having both his tonfas and his wand turned into kindling, thank you very much. All around them, the fighting ceased as literally everyone in the room found themselves disarmed.

The phantoms the pineapple had summoned faded away as said pineapple fell, his conqueror taking both the dark ring from Mukuro's hands and the Elder Wand alike.

"Who are you, and why did you interrupt my fight?" Kyoya growled.

The man stood. Turning his head, blond hair falling from his eyes, the man raised only a single eyebrow in response.

"You're a fierce one, in any incarnation, Kyoya Hibari."

The man stood to full height. Dressed in bright red and golden robes, the man looked like he was trying to audition for head of Gryffindor. At the same time, he looked like he couldn't even be bothered with such a position.

"What did you… How?" Cedric spoke next. Then, the muttering began all around them.


"How can he be back?"

"Did you hear what Dumbledore said?"

"What's going on?"

"Who's the Villain?"

"Did Potter really murder the Headmaster?"

"Who's the stranger?"

Kyoya twitched. Endless muttering. There was a reason he had always hated crowds.

The man lifted a single hand and red fire again exploded, silencing them all. All eyes now fixed on him, the man looked around at them all.

"My name is Nicholas Flamel." The man revealed. "You could say I'm something of an… Administrator to this world."

Administrator? What on earth did that me-

Trinset. Trinset Administrator.

Three items, infused with the life force of the planet.

Past, present, and future. All of reality, all existence, tied together neatly in a way to keep everything spinning just like it was supposed to spin.

Kawihara's counterpart.

Kyoya would assume this was Kawihara, but no. These flames were Storm in nature, not Mist. This was a different force entirely.

"You could say I am the guardian of this world, and simply put, I could not let this continue." Flamel lifted both the Elder Wand and the Resurrection Stone in hand. "In times past and future, in alternate worlds, you have collected all three." Eyes fixed on Kyoya, causing him to falter.

Him, collect all three? Why would Kyoya do that? He had no interest in such trinkets.

"Typically, they fall into your lap. Other times, you actively seek them. Regardless, in your hands… While the results vary, everything keeps spinning. This one…" Flamel looked back down to the fallen owl. "This one is too far gone. He wishes to make a better world, which is all good and well, but he is too damaged to build it. Like Byakuran, he would destroy again and again, because that's all he knows. Unlike Byakuran, he'd succeed. Even I would fall, should he had collected all three."

Kyoya wasn't the only one to shoot a weary look towards the downed Voldemort. The weariness soon gave way, through, to excitement. Such power. Such raw potential. Like the Omnivore, Mukuro had so much room to grow.

Kyoya would enjoy beating it out of him.

"... Why are you telling us all this?"

And of course, Tsuna always pointed out the annoyingly obvious.

Flamel grinned.

"Who says you get to remember?"

Oh holy hell, he better not-

The world flashed crimson once more.

Cedric smiled at all his preparations. True, while he didn't have the culinary skills of his mother or even those of Kyoko-chan and Haru, he could admit that cooking was a hobby he enjoyed, and was surprisingly good at.

Kyoya even enjoyed his meals. Kyoya was more of a growl at you and attack if he didn't like it sort of guy.

"Dad! They're here!"

Cedric smiled.

"Invite them in, then!"

Cedric set the table easily enough just as the rest of his guardians arrived. Leading them was a small little boy with bright purple hair shaped like a pineapple.

Raising a child version of Mukuro had been… A bit odd at first, really, but Cedric wouldn't give it up for anything. That boy's broken childhood would probably come back to haunt them eventually, but whatever Flamel had done had revered his age, back to that of newborn.

Not that anyone remembered.

Flamel, by mixing magic with his Flames, could actively erase whatever he wanted. An extremely frightening power when Tsuna considered it.

He had erased his own existence from the minds of nearly everyone there, and instead it was well known that Albus Dumbledore and Voldemort had died fighting one another in the Battle for the Ministry, at which there were no children whatsoever present.

Life was good.

Elsewhere, a certain locket imbued with Voldemort's soul energy pulsed.

Chapter Text

A/N: Ah, finally, finally, finally.

Can any of you believe that Gray was the original character I meant to use when I started this fic? No, really. I intended to do one on him first, then a few suggestions came in and they sounded good so I rolled with them and I never actually got back around to writing Gray even though I am literally 80,000 words in and the story has been around for two years.

Oh, huh.

I hadn't realized that hehe.

I fully intend on doing Toph from Avatar after Gray's arc

Published: 4/06/2018

Warnings: Fairy Tail Spoilers sprinkled about

Chapter 23

Gray Fullbuster I

Gray Fullbuster could only blink in confusion.

Why in the hell was he so small? Gray lifted a single arm up. Tiny. He was freaking tiny. Tiny, thin, and… Wearing way too bulky clothes.

Had they walked into another alternate universe, except this time, they replaced their counterparts instead of existing simultaneously alongside them?

That was the only thing Gray could assume. Although, the fact remained that he'd been turned into a literal midget with no to little explanation. Scratch that, no explanation whatsoever. And these clothes!

Way too hot!

"Freak! What do you think you're doing? You can't even wear clothes like a normal person now?" a voice shouted out.

Gray blinked, turning towards the voice.

There, standing before him, was a literal whale of a person. Now, Gray wasn't saying this to be mean or anything. He was just calling it like it was. The kid before him, though, looked like he'd trained in some sort of earth style magic were sitting would cause a miniature earthquake. Gray wouldn't be surprised. He had definitely seen weirder.

That in itself didn't concern Gray too much, though. Another person's health choices were up to them, plain and simple. What did disturb Gray, though, was the age.

Whaleboy was just that. A boy.

Did his guardians not make sure he ate properly? Well, too properly from what Gray was seeing. That poor kid would probably have health problems later down the line.

Whaleboy was coming right at him. The reason why was made clear when a pudgy fist lifted itself in the air, swinging right at Gray's face.

"Freak! Of course you're some sorta nudist freak that takes their clothes off! Dad was right, we shoulda just dropped you in the orphanage!"

Small new body or no, Gray had literally spent over half his life fighting, from the moment Deliora had murdered his parents to just yesterday as they fought against Acnologia.

As such, Gray dodged under the blow easily enough, darting forth and delivering several jabs to whaleboy's chest. Whaleboy cried out, more from surprise than anything else as Gray lifted his leg and slammed it on the other boy's knee. Whaleboy fell in an instant as Gray himself backed away, staring down at his down opponent with a glare.

"I don't know who you are, but attacking other people out of the blue isn't nice! Didn't your parents teach you manners, kid?" Gray snapped.

Whaleboy glared up at Gray with fury. It would be slightly more impressive if he wasn't shivering in obvious fright. Gray did feel a little bad about that, because whaleboy really was just a kid, but so was Gray apparently and all he had really done was defend himself.

"I'm tellin' mum!" Whaleboy yelled out, turning his nose up into the air as he stood and stumbling feet and wobbled away.



'Mum' turned out to be Gray's aunt.

'Dad' turned out to be walrus that tried to beat Gray black and purple.

'Number Four Privet Drive' used to be a nice little home, before Gray froze the damn thing with a raw instinctive blast of magic as a beefy fist was swinging down at him.

Gray blinked, the figure before him frozen, encased in ice. Well, except the eyes. Those eyes, small and beady, were filled with utter terror. Moving out from under the arm, Gray turned towards his aunt. The woman, unlike her husband, wasn't a walking talking statue. However, that just meant that the fear in her face wasn't just restricted to just her eyes.

The woman had literally shoved herself as far back into the corner as she could. Her arms and legs were splayed out, clinging to the plaster as if it was her salvation. There was a wild, maniacal look dancing in her eyes, in her form.

Normally, Gray would feel sorry for this. He hadn't meant to freeze the house. However, Gray was currently in a kid's body that these idiots were about to beat without a second thought. The very idea made his blood boil.

So, instead of showing any semblance of the word 'sympathy', Gray scowled at her.

"What is with you people? First, your kid looks like he's five meals away from a heart attack, then this thing," Gray waved absently at Vernon, "attacks me not five steps into the house. Really?"

"FREAK!" Aunt Petunia bellowed and, for a moment, Gray wondered if the woman had sound magic. Or maybe she was just that shrill of a shrieker. Gray was briefly reminded of a banshee.

Elsewhere, Sakura Haruno sneezed.


What? No he hadn't. The man was perfectly fine, although if Gray left him like that he might get frostbite. He'd have to unfreeze him. He was pretty sure his uncle would end up with a cold, though, if he really didn't have any magic in him.

Which was pretty rare.

Everyone had some magic in them, it was just that most people didn't bother learning how to channel it. All it took was a little drop of it, really, for it to grow.


Oh, ouch! Really, lady? Gray was really starting to feel sorry for his counterpart. This lady was insane.


She wanted him out? Well, fine. It's not like Gray hadn't survived just fine on his own as a kid anyways.

"Sure." Gray shrugged, turning without another word. With a casual wave of his hand, Gray unfroze Vernon, who fell forth the second the ice encasing him was gone. Without another word, Gray marched right out the door, not even bothering to look back.

This was no home anyways from what he could see, so why would he regret it even for a second?

In his office, Dumbledore froze as several alarms went off at once and one of his little trinkets even shattered into pieces.

Oh dear.

Perhaps he had been too quick to tie the power of bloodwards to an impressionable child's concept of what a home was?

Gray wasn't sure where he was. All he knew was, this sure as hell wasn't Fiore. It wasn't Earthland, either. Different. Way, way different.

It didn't take a genius to realize that magic wasn't really that common in this world. It was actually pretty rare from what Gray was noticing. Maybe that was why his Aunt had freaked so much?

This wasn't like Earthland, or even like Edolas.

Both of those worlds had magic, and magic in droves. Magic flowing through every nook and cranny, beautiful for the eye to see.

This place, compared to that…

It was a dead spot.

That was the best way to describe it, really.

That, Gray could deal with.

The random geezers in robes that kept trying to kidnap him, he could deal with two. One quick interrogation revealed that they believed Gray to be someone known as 'The Harry Potter' and that he was very important and blah blah.

If he was so important to these damn people, then why was he placed with guardians that detested the very notion of magic?

Disturbingly, Gray was getting his counterparts memories. Harry's memories. This was starting to look less and less like two alternates getting swapped and more and more like some sort of twisted merger.

Well, whatever.

If this was his future, so be it. But, Gray would be damned if he didn't at least try and get back to his friends. He'd fight tooth and nail for it, to the ends of the earth for his nakama.

His mind decided, Gray realized that the very first step would be to better understand the magic of this world, so he could get back to his own.

It had taken a literal squad of Aurors to bring Gray down. Even then, pinned to the ground and wrapped in conjured ropes, Gray had glared at each and every one of them as he was delivered right to an old man that reminded Gray disturbingly of Hades.

Normally, Gray would just freeze said ropes but any time he tried that the ropes would promptly heat up, burning not just ice that he conjured, but Gray himself.

… These people really did not know how to make a good impression. Gray himself regretted being so blatant about the magic he specialized in. Despite its versatility, it made it easier for them to catch him.


Maybe he should branch out?

"Harry, my boy." Hades wannabe spoke. Gray looked up. Twinkling blue eyes met his own as Gray. It was in that moment that he felt it. Subtle. Real subtle. Like a breeze, tingling along your skin. Small. Tiny. Negligible.


Gray hissed, breaking the gaze rapidly.

Hades junior let out a small gasp, which was all the confirmation Gray needed. He had no idea what the old fuck had been up to, but it seemed to require eye contact. Good. All Gray had to do was look away.

A bony hand gripped his chin, forcing it up.

"My child, I need to see. I need to see where you've been."

Need to see? Wait, what did this old-

Gray's struggles became more pronounced.

"Out of my head, you old pervert!"

Hades wannabe sighed, pulling back. Gray took in a breath, allowing himself to relax slightly. But, only slightly. Gray knew that if push came to shove, there was very little he could do to stop twinkleyes from getting what he wanted.

"Very well. I shall respect your privacy, young Harry, just this once. However, I do wish for something in exchange." Hades the mind reader spoke.

"Get bent." Gray snapped, not looking at him.

"Your magical abilities are prodigal, Harry. Prodigal, but untrained, and dangerous." Hades wannabe said. Gray resisted the urge to snort and roll his eyes. As if anyone who suffered- er, basked in the utter glow of Ur's teaching methods could ever be considered 'untrained'. "This is a danger, not just to yourself but to everyone around you. So please, I ask but one thing: attend Hogwarts, and learn to harness your gifts."

"Hog what? Your crazier than I thought, Hades Junior."

"Ah! Why are you taking off your clothes!"

"It's hot as a fucking furnace in here!"

Gray, annoyingly, had found his way onto a train that he very much did not want to be on. A train that hadn't heard of air conditioning. Then again, Gray supposed his standards were a bit… Skewed. Maybe a little itty tiny bit.

You try putting up with Ur's absurd style for a few months and see if wearing clothes after don't make you feel like your bursting right out of your skin.

How Gray Surge managed to wear so many layers was something Gray would never, ever understand.

So, Gray was gonna take them off. What was the big deal?

From the way Hermione's breath hitched and her eyes not so subtly trailed over his body, Gray figured there might be something off about it but meh.

At least he still had his underwear on.

People really needed to chill out.


Gray ripped the Sorting Hat off his head as quick as he possibly could. That damn thing talked too much and looked too much. All it needed was a basic personality scan, not an attempt and reading through Gray's life story.

Gray momentarily wondered if Dumbledore had put the damn thing up to it before deciding that, nah, not likely.

If the old man wanted something from Gray's head, he'd likely take it right from the source, and, as annoying as it was, Gray didn't think he'd be able to fight him off.

The Hall was silence for several moments. Gray blinked at them all before shrugging. Well, if they wanted to give him the silent treatment, so be it. It wasn't like Gray really needed them.

Gray stood, rolling his eyes before making his way to the House of Silver and Green, even as the stunned silence permated the hall.

For years, Gray had wondered if he had ended up in this alternate reality all on his own. For years, he'd searched for a way back and, in the end, half the reason he was willing to play along and go to school like a normal kid was because the massive library Hogwarts had.

The world, though, just liked to toss preconceived notions right out the window.

This was another world, another dimension. Another alternate reality. It had to be. At least, that's what Gray had assumed. What he had thought.

He was wrong.

Very, very wrong.

How did Gray know he was wrong?


"Huh?" Gray questioned, looking down.

Indeed. Somehow, while pouring through books left and right that made several people question whether or not a Raven had accidently been missorted into Slytherin(it seriously wouldn't have been the first time), Gray had managed to strip away every bit of clothing. Except his tie. Said tie was currently tied around his neck securely, despite the rest of his robes being tossed off in all directions.

The familiar yell had come just in time too. Gray had literally been on the verge of ripping his underwear off.



Gray looked up, heart leaping into his throat as he met a familiar gaze. The eyes were a different shade, earthy brown replaced by light blue. The hair was less scarlet and more frazzled, but that look, that glare, was one Gray would never mistake for anyone else's. It was literally unforgettable.

He'd grown up fearing that glare.

Gray eeped, leaping into the air right off his chair.

"Erza! You're here too?" Gray asked.

He hadn't ended up here alone. Gray wasn't sure how he felt about that. Should he be relieved or utterly terrified by it? Should it make him smile, or make him quiver in fear of the untold possibilities?

Erza was just as small as he was. No doubt, she'd been sorted when Gray had, but he hadn't really paid attention. The yellow trim along the hem of her robes seemed somewhat fitting.

True, Erza Scarlet had been the bravest woman he'd ever known, but she'd also been the most loyal. That was what had always driven her. The bonds of friendship that drove her. That drove all of them, really.

Erza. Loyal. Strong. Honest. Righteous. About to smack him upside the head for stripping in front of a bunch of kids even though Gray was technically a kid himself at the mome-

Oh shit.

Gray dodged the swing.

This was his first mistake.

Erza twitched.

Uh oh…

Then, it didn't matter because a wave of magic curled around the pair of them. Before Gray could even blink, he found himself tossed right out the door, his clothes tossed after him while Erza landed with a thud right next to him.

Who in the world would da-

"Out! The both of you, out! I won't have rough housing in my Library, nor will I allow anyone in who does not at least pretend to dress modestly!"

With that, Madam Pince slammed the library doors firmly shut behind them.

Gray and Erza looked at each other in silence as the rest of the students who'd had the honor of being in the hallway stared on. Then, a strange sight for all was seen. A Slytherin and Hufflepuff, laughing like mad before sharing and embrace.

Gray came across Natsu next.

It was no surprise to see red trimming Natsu's robes. If anyone was brash, brave, and wild, it was Natsu. Natsu, who'd toss himself into a struggle without a second thought. Natsu, who lived for the fight, lived for the adventure. Natsu, who was completely and utterly incapable of following Professor Snape's' very clear directions.

"You idiot! You're doing it all out of order! Are you trying to get us blown up?"

Gray wasn't sure how he'd ended up paired with a Gryffindor. It might have something to do with the way Snape seemed to take Gray's literally presence as an offense, but wasn't sure.

What crawled up that man's ass and died?

Gray received a glare for his troubles.

"Shut it, snowflake! I know what I'm doing! I'm makin' a meal!"

Snowflake? Meal? What on ea-

Gray blinked.

He blinked again.

The hair was different. The face was different.

What was not different was the aura.


Natsu blinked at him.

"Name's Seamus, Squinty Eyes." Natsu responded.

Then proceeded to drop a full vial of Salamander Essence into their project, when the recipe literally only called for a drop.

The ensuing explosion forced Snape to close the class early, docking fifty points from Gryffindor and giving Gray detention for not 'controlling his monkey of a classmate' properly.

And Natsu?

The little shit giggled happily, having somehow trapped some of the flames in a jar which Gray was sure he'd eat later. Stupid flame for brains.

Gray was mildly disappointed that he could not find Lucy anywhere, even though he had found Erza and Natsu. As far as he could tell, no one else had been sent across to this strange world except the three of them. They why, they still couldn't figure out.

Natsu in particular didn't seem to give a shit.

"Who cares? We're here, and we're together. Good enough for me." Natsu had shrugged.

He wasn't fooling anyone though.

It was weird, seeing Natsu without Happy perched on his shoulder or Lucy trailing beside him. Natsu himself, despite the words, didn't seem accustomed to it either. More than once, Gray watched as Natsu turned excitedly to say something to Lucy, probably something stupid because everything that came out of Natsu's mouth was stupid, except there was no Lucy to babble to.

His face would scrunch up into this pathetic confused expression, followed by sadness, remembrance, and a mask.

Gray didn't like it. Neither did Erza, but there was little either of them could do about it except distracting Natsu from it all.

Besides his friends, Gray had… Other problems.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the Golden Boy, except not so golden, is he? Who would have thought, the great Harry Potter was really more silver than anything else?" Draco Malfoy sneered at him.

Gray froze at the word silver.

Sil… Silver? Why would… Why would that word even matter?

"Although, I can't say I'm surprised, Potter. For you see, Slytherin is the most supreme of all the houses. You defeating the Dark Lord was proof. Proof that you were meant for this house, meant to take his place."

That right there snapped Gray out of his musings. With a glare, he locked his gaze with that of Malfoy. The blond was an annoying little pest. Like a mosquito that wouldn't go away. Sure, Gray could crush it, but he'd never been into crushing kids.

"Your Dark Lord can go fuck himself on a icicle for all I care. And, for the record, so can you." Gray snaped.

Malfoy's eyebrows shot up.

"My, my. So vulgar. As expected of riffraff that doesn't know how to wear clothing and that hangs around Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs." Malfoy quickly changed his tune, a sneer adorning his face.

Gray rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

"I'd like to see you take Susan," Gray said, because that was Erza's name in this world now, "She'd tear you a new asshole and have you begging for mercy with her bare hands. She wouldn't even need magic."

Which was true.

Erza had terrified Natsu and Gray as children not because of tremendous magical power, but because of the fact that she could beat the ever living shit out of them with her bare hands. Erza was a scary, scary girl.

Gray loved her. She was the best sister a guy could ask for.

Malfoy's sneer didn't leave his face.

"Of course, a filthy squib like her would fight like a brutish muggle. How disgusting. No wonder her parents went and got themselves killed, they couldn't stand to look at her ugly fa-"

Detention had never been so worth it, especially after Gray refused to undo his freezing of the Malfoy scion and his pet gorillas, no matter how much the teachers outright demanded he did.

"They're yer parents, Harry. I think they'da wanted yeh to have this."

Hagrid had been apprehensive. Much like the rest of the Wizarding World, he had been shocked when the Boy Who Lived had been sorted into Slytherin. Hagrid had spent the next several days wondering if he'd drank a little too much and if was having extremely vivid nightmares, but no.

The green trim on Harry's robes remained the same.

They never changed, day in and day out.

Hagrid supposed it had something to do with young Harry running away. It had taken them years to find him, and by then, the damage had already been done. Hagrid knew the world wasn't a safe place, especially not for a child all on their own.

Sometimes, he wondered what Harry had to do to survive, had to do that would shift him to the point where the Sorting Hat had only needed a couple of seconds to decide Harry Potter belonged in the same house as Voldemort.

In the end, though, Hagrid decided that it didn't matter.

What convinced him was Harry's friends.

No matter where he'd go, the young Slytherin was always in the company of either Finnigan or Bones. They made a pretty odd group. A Slytherin, a Hufflepuff, and a Gryffindor, running around like besties?

More often than not, Harry and Finnigan had been caught fighting. More often than not, it was Bones that broke them apart with a terrifying aura that made Professor Quirrell wet himself once.

Silently, Hagrid wondered if this is how things were between the original founders.

(A thousand years prior, Salazar and Godric hid in fear. They'd had another one of their sparring matches, which was all fun and good except they'd accidently blasted apart Helga's collection of excotic sweets and cakes.

They heard the woman hum in that little tune she liked to pick up whenever she was thinking of assaulting the pair of them.

As one, they gulped.

Then, their cover was blown and both men squealed like little grins as Helga bared down upon them.)

Harry's friends convinced Hagrid to give the boy a chance. So he did. Which was why Hagrid was presenting this to Harry now. Harry deserved to know something, anything, about his parents.

Except, he hadn't expected this reaction.

Harry's fingers trailed along the picture of his mother, an almost reverent expression on his face. Reverent, before it melted to guilt.

Hagrid's heart clenched.

"''Arry?" he asked.

"... ied for me." Harry mumbled.


Harry looked up, green eyes brimming with tears.

"They both did. Back and then, and here too. Am I cursed? I-" Harry sniffed, wiping at his eyes.

Hagrid didn't quite understand. He did understand that Harry was hurting, though, so he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Harry stiffened before smiling up at him, wiping away the tears.

"Thanks, Harid. I'll treasure it always." Harry said, pulling the picture book to his chest, holding it against himself, protecting it.

Gray was excited when he got the Invisibility Cloak. Unfortunately, so was Natsu. Natsu, who had no idea what the word 'stealth' meant and and who got caught with the damn thing by Snape, of all people, while trying to raid the kitchens.

How did he get caught?

The bloody idiot had snuck a hand out of the cloak, summoned a ball of fire to light his way in the dark, and had assumed that no one could possibly see him because he was a ninja with invisibility powers.

Gray would question Natsu's intelligence, except he was pretty sure Natsu didn't have any to begin with.

Near the end of term, there was one particular event that forced the whole school to reevaluate what they thought of Hufflepuffs as a whole.

As it turned out, Professor Quirrell was not, in fact, a stuttering mess of a buffoon, but was, in fact, a deranged dark wizard who was planning nefarious things because that's what dark wizards did.

Quirrell had apparently tried to kidnap Susan Bones to use her as bait against Harry Potter, since everyone knew Potter was inseparable from his two crosshouse friends.

The key word here being the word 'tried'.

The end result had been Quirrell covered in so many cuts and bruised that he looked like someone had put him straight to a blender on high before getting tossed down a mountain covered in barbed wire. Twice.

Gray and Natsu weren't surprised.

Anyone stupid enough to try and harm Erza Scarlet, even in this new form, was a goddamn masochist.

And so ended their first year, with a bang.

Reincarnation Cheat Sheet:

Harry Potter: Gray Fullbuster

Seamus Finnigan: Natsu Dragneel

Susan Bones: Erza Scarlet

Chapter Text

A/N: So, literally everyone guessed who Lucy would be. No. Really. All of you. Okay, almost all of you. I had a very small amount of people guess wrong, but for logical reasons

Also, the group is not from the regular timeline. Rather, they're from Future Lucy's timeline.

Also, to the person that is subscribed to this story soley so you can leave flames in guest reviews… You are just adorable! I am honored. Thank you. It literally made my day. Okay, not really, I lie, I lie, but I did get a good laugh out of it

The Prophet headline comes from BlueSeraphos, who gave me permission to use it. Thanks! :)

So, I was two thousands words in when I realized I hadn't even started the second year yet. Yikes. On that note, this is also the longest chapter I've written for this story

Incidentally, the rest turned out… Darker than I intended.

Published: 4/21/2018

Warnings: Major Character Death

Chapter 24

Gray Fullbuster II

Gray had absolutely refused to go back to the Dursleys, despite Dumbledore's protest. If that was his family in this world, then he would literally rather be an orphan again. Incidentally, the Dursley's seemed to agree with his sentiment, and had promptly chased Dumbledore right out while ranting about the evils of magic and what not.

In their defense, Gray had caused thousands of pounds of property damage to their house to the point where they'd been forced to move.

Erza, of course, had offered him a place with her. Gray resolutely refused as kindly as he could. He loved Erza, he really did, but he was not sharing a house with her. Camping with the girl could get messy, much less being stuck in the same home during her random mood swings that seemed to be dictated by the alignment of the stars and how many starfish had just washed up on a beach in Normandy.

In other words, there was no logic and Gray was not putting up with that 24/7. How Jellal could was beyond him, but Gray assumed they were just both the right amount of insane for one another.

Dumbledore had merely chuckled at him, though.

So it was that Gray was… Sent of to live with the Weasleys.

"What? Them? Why? I don't even know any of them!" Gray had protested. He'd much rather spend his summer just wandering the countryside like normal, thank you very much. He'd done it as a kid, and doing it now shouldn't be too hard.

"My dear boy, this is for the best. You will see." Dumbledore smiled at him.

Gray twitched. Right. Best for him. Of course it was. Whatever. Gray would just go with it, for now. Besides, if the Weasley's were anywhere near as bad or annoying as the Dursley's, Gray could just freeze the damn place and run away again.

Dumbledore sighed as young Harry finally agreed to staying with the Weasley's over the summer. It had been disturbing, more than he cared to admit, when the young savior of the Wizarding World had been sorted into the same house as Voldemort. The only respite Dumbledore had from it was the fact that his two best friends were a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor, something that had not been seen in decades.

Dumbledore was reminded of another boy, and his heart clenched.

Hopefully, Molly could help. Dumbledore did not want another Severus Snape on his hands. Another broken child, having made mistakes left and right, and lamenting as the consequences of their actions swept away around them.

Gray wanted to learn how to apparate. His desire for doing so was not because it was useful, or because he particularly liked the sensation. Oh, no. If anything, Gray would rather never apparate again as long as he lived. Doing so had left him nearly tossing his lunch right out, only barely managing to hold it in.

Which was why a maniacal grin had appeared on Gray's face as he wondered exactly what effect it would have on Natsu. The motion sickness had left Gray spinning, imagine on him?

Evil, true, but Gray just had to know, had to see, the reaction.

"Come along. It isn't much farther." Mr. Weasley spoke.

Gray nodded at the man. Mr. Weasley had come to pick up Gray right from the school after he'd been dragged back. Sadly. Gray was sure he had a dozen tracker spells on him, and they were probably locked onto his skin or something, since by now all the teachers knew well enough that Gray had no qualms about running around sans clothing.

("What is he? A newborn toddler, removing his clothes because they make him uncomfortable?" Snape had sneered. Gray had pretended not to hear the man.)

They marched right through the door in the middle of a loud, yelling argument. The combatants? In a stark twist of events, Ronald Weasley had actually dared challenge his mother in a screaming match.

Lord have mercy on his soul.

"But mom! He's a Slytherin!"

Ron, Gray decided, was a walking, talking ball of irony, all mixed in one. He severely disliked Gray on principle because Slytherin's were all Blood Purist bastards, snobbish, sneaks that lived for the joy of messing with everyone else.

The irony, of course, was that while Ron was ranting about how all Slytherin's were racist, he was incidentally painting Gray as one merely because he was a Slytherin.

In other words, Ron was just as prejudiced as he claimed the Slytherin's were.

"Ronald Weasley! You will be nice to our guest! I certainly hope you don't act like this when he arrives! You'll be sharing a room with him, and-"

"Sharing a room? Are you insane! He'll kill me in my sleep!"

"Did you just interrupt me, young man? I AM YOUR MOTHER AND YOU WILL- oh, hello Harry dear." Mrs. Weasley then proceeded to do a complete 180, from looking like she was about to personally fillet her child to beaming at Gray as if he had just brought her a lifelong supply of pastries.

Gray gulped.

He'd avoided the real Erza, but it seemed fate was going to mess with him, because this woman, right here? She might as well be Erza's mother.

Elsewhere, Irene Belserion sneezed.

Frazzled red hair, mood swings, and, by the look of the kitchen, a love for sweets that rivaled all things.

Gray had the distinct pleasure of seeing Ron go scarlet as his hair, spinning around and locking gazes with Gray.

"Hey, Mrs. Weasley. I've been informed that I'm to stay with you guys for the summer." Gray bowed slightly in the direction of the woman. He could practically hear Ron's jaw smashing into the floor as Mrs. Weasley cooed about what a 'respectful young man' Gray was. "I hope I'm not any sort of bother. What can I do to help around here?"

This caused Ron to storm up the stairs in anger.


This summer was going to be fun.

The next morning, in the middle of a breakfast that bordered on holy because oh my god, that woman could cook, there were gasps hear aloud as the Daily Prophet arrived.

"Ha! I knew it! You fake!" Ron declared, tossing said newspaper at Gray. Gray blinked in surprise, staring at Ron in utter shock.

"Since when can you read?" Gray asked, still in shock. It was a genuine question. He had actually been convinced the other boy could not read, so learning that he could was eye opening.

Ron spluttered as his twin brothers chortled.



Ron eeped and shot out of the dinning room like a bat out of hell.

"What's this, then?"

"Hm. Pass it along, brother, pass it along."

The twins looked over the paper, laughing loudly. Curious, Gray took a peek at the title of the headline. Even upside down, he could read it, clear as day.


"Susan Bones."

"Conqueror of stuttering messes."

"Who's our champion?"

"She's our champion!"

"Little icky Bagger with claws!"

Gray eyed the paper once more. Well. He wondered just exactly how Erza would take it?

(Erza stared at the paper before her. Across the table, her Aunt was watching her expectantly. Then, setting it down, Erza stood, tall and proud.

A single tear fell down her cheek.

"If this is what the people want, then I shall honor them, and be the hero that they deserve!"

With that declaration, a sword materialized into her hands as she held it up proudly in the air even as her Aunt started to yell about how she wasn't supposed to be performing underage magic and yadda yadda.)

Gray had another stalker.





Gray screamed gibberish into his pillow. Again.

Holy mother of magic, really? Again? Gray supposed that he shouldn't be surprised. He was famous here. A goddamn celebrity, literally. It was more of a wonder why this was the first one that he had encountered than anything else.

Ginny Weasley was a blushing, stuttering mess that trailed behind him, hiding behind random things with all the subtlety of Nasu whenever he was on a stealth mission. Considering it had taken Gray months to get his Invisibility Cloak back after Natsu he had foolishly allowed Natsu to borrow the damn thing, that should tell how discreet Ginny was.

Sure enough, the sound of creaking stairs could be heard. Gray sighed, silently pondering if Ginny was anywhere near as dangerous as Juvia had been. Juvia had been… Chaotic.

"He's up there! He is! Can you believe it? The Harry Potter, living in my house?" Ginny's whisper might as well have been a shout to Gray's sharper than usual ears. While his senses weren't as good as Natsu's, they were still stronger than a regular humans or even a regular wizard, so the words came in clear.

Ginny, and company. Joy, another one.

Gray groaned.

He hoped she'd get over this soon. He'd asked the twins about her once, and Ginny's normal personality was nowhere near this… Annoying. She actually sounded like someone he could come to get along with. This stalkerish bit, though? Gray seriously hoped it was just a phase. He really, really did.

"Are you sure we should be doing this? It's a bit rude, you know. What if he's sleeping?" the other voice asked, feminine and young.

Oh thank god. A voice of reason.

"I-" Ginny started to stutter before sighing. "I suppose you're ri-"

It was at this moment that Gray decided he'd had enough. Tossing himself off the bed, he made his way to the door in a few short strides. Ripping it open, he watched as the two girls, Ginny and a blonde, collapsed before him. They'd been leaning against it, and, with the weight gone, they'd fallen in a heap.

Gray crossed his arms, frowning down at the pair of them as they looked up at him in embarrassment.

The blond gave out a startled cry, her cheeks along with Ginny's turning red. Ginny looked away, cupping her face in her hands as the blond cried out, "Why are you naked!"


Oh shit. He wasn't even wearing underwear. Gray scrambled towards the bed, but his dignity was already gone, blasted right out the window the second he'd opened that door. Oh god, he hoped Erza never learned of this.

He could just see it now, Erza chasing him down with a sword in hand for 'beseeching the honor of innocent maidens', nevermind that he'd literally caught them sneaking around at his door.

Gray managed to pull some clothes on before turning around. The blond was still looking at him, not having looked away the entire time. Goddamn voyeur. Not that Gray minded. He'd run around naked outside 24/7 if he was allowed, wandering eyes be damned.

Grey eyes locked with his and narrowed.


Gray nearly tripped on his feet.


Then, those grey eyes burst into a shower of tears that had both Gray and Ginny wondering what the hell was wrong and how they could fix it.

"I'm going to tear him to pieces. I'm going to stab a javelin of ice, right through his goddamn heart."

On the bright side, he'd found Lucy. On the negative side, she remembered… More than the rest of them combined. Enough to know how things came to an end, and it hadn't been pretty. It hadn't been pretty at all.

They'd all died. One by one, they'd fallen. First, Gray himself. Then, Erza. Finally, Natsu, ripped apart to shreds trying to protect Lucy. Dragons had torn apart their entire world until, at long last, in a moment of desperation, Lucy had teamed up with him.

Him being Zeref. Gray was still trying to wrap his mind around that one. Still, this was Lucy and Lucy wasn't one for making high tales. If she said the Dark Mage tried to help her, then it was true. She herself didn't know why, only that she'd once caught the Dark Wizard staring forlornly at Natsu's grave with unmasked tears streaming down his eyes.

Neither of them wanted to think too much into that one.

Zeref had sent her back in time in one last ditch effort to prevent the Apocalypse, but she hadn't gone alone. No. Someone had followed, someone broken and twisted by the horrors of that time, someone who'd cut her down without an ounce of remorse.

Lucy shook her head at him.

"No, Gray. What's done is done. He's gone. Natsu… Natsu took care of it."

Gray bit his lip.

Natsu, but not their Natsu. The other Natsu. This whole divergent timeline thing was going to give him a goddamn headache. On the bright side, he'd found the last person in their little group. Natsu would be thrilled, no matter how much the goddamn knucklehead denied it.

The new Lucy was… Pretty absent minded.

She'd been reborn as a girl named Luna Lovegood. Much like in her last life, this Lucy had the innate ability to commune with spirits. Except, this world wasn't like theirs. There were no Celestial Spirit Keys, or anything similar to that.

So, when Lucy turned and spoke to spirits, she literally looked like she was speaking to the air.

"What in the hell is a wrackspurt." Gray deadpanned.

Lucy laughed, hand seemingly waving at something in his hair, something only she could see. Er. Okay?

Neither of them noticed Ginny, or the jealousy shining in the other girl's eyes.

Gray's first meeting with Gilderoy Lockhart went much like his first meeting with Vernon Dursley. On the bright side, Gray had learned some restraint in this new world, so the only thing that ended up frozen was Lockhart himself and Gray didn't have to pay for an entire store of merchandize, because that would have likely bankrupted him, family fortune or no.

On the negative side, the press had yet another field day, and Gray was henceforth known as the Ice Prince of Slytherin.

Gray stared at the literal rotting corpse of a horse pulling the carriage.

What in the living fuck.

Gray had totally called it.

Natsu had taken a sniff. Just a single goddamn fucking sniff into the air the second Lucy had walked into the Grand Hall with the rest of the first years. That was all it took.


Luna spun at the call of her name. Her other name. Old name, technically. What was it now? Luna, Gray thought it was?

Her eyes locked with Natsu's across the hall.

"Na- Natsu?" she stuttered out.

Of course, she knew he'd be here. Gray had told her all about it, although he hadn't told Natsu or Erza. If they wanted to ignore all his letters the entire summer, then he would ignore them back.

It was almost worth it, walking Natsu literally vault his way across the hall, colliding with the younger girl in a mix of limps.

Hogwarts was then treated to the rather odd sight of a twelve year old and an eleven year old trying to eat each other's faces off with their lips. Natsu and Lucy literally had no chill. Gray had expected this from Natsu, but he was surprised Lucy was reciprocating just as eagerly for the whole world to see.

Psh. Didn't miss her his fucking ass.

It was an even more startling moment when, half an hour later, Lucy managed to get herself sorted into Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor where everyone had expected her to end after that 'little' show.

Not saying anything had almost been worth it. Almost, because of Natsu's reaction. What made it negative, in the end, was neither Natsu and Lucy. Oh, no. Those two were too lost in each other to see anything else.


What made it negative was Erza hunting him down later.

"You mean to tell me you knew where Lucy was for months without informing us!"

Hogwarts was once more treated to an odd sight, this one being of Harry Potter running for the goddamn hills as Susan Bones tried to skwer him with what seemed like every sword, knife, and javelin off every single suit of armor in the entire castle.

"Wait, what do you mean you didn't get any of our letters? I wrote you tons!"

"... Natsu, since when the hell can you write?"

Gray was promptly set on fire.

Dobby found himself pinned to the ground, frozen and bound as the Great Harry Potter peared down at him, an icicle forming in his hands, the tip of it jabbed at his throat.

Dobby whimpered.

"The fuck are you and the fuck were you doing to my stuff?"

"Enemies of the Heir Beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

"What's a Mudblood? Wait, is that… is that a cat? Which one of you fuckers did it! Come out and fight me!"

Natsu was… Rather protective of felines. Gray assumed it was because he missed Happy. They had yet to find the little Exceed, although if they would find him at all would be questionable.

Gray now knew that this wasn't an alternate reality. At least, not in the same sense as Edolas.

They had died.

They'd all died.

Silently, he wondered if the rest of their guild mates were scattered about elsewhere.

His musing were interrupted by Filch joining Natsu in his screeching about how their would be punishment. So it was that an unholy alliance was born between the most unlikely of comrades.

"Hey! Get away from him before I freeze your ass and turn you into a snakecicle!" Gray yelled. The snake whimpered, backing away.

"Cruel speaker. Can I not have but a taste? These foul humans, summoning me without warning!"

Gray titled his head. Okay, he supposed he could see how that could be annoying. Still. He couldn't let the snake bite random people.

"If you want to bite someone, bite the one that summoned you, not random strangers!" Gray scolded before motioning towards Malfoy.

The snake turned towards the rapidly paling Slytherin.

"You dare summon me, insect?!"

Malfoy screamed as the snake leapt at him. It didn't make it. Instead, it was vanished by a single wave of Snape's wand.

"You- you- you can speak to snakes!" Malfoy cried out, staring at Gray, utterly terrified.

Gray shrugged.

"Meh. You should have seen Lisanna. She could talk to anything. There was this one time she refused to let us crush a cockroach because he was an 'interesting conversationalist'. Can you believe it?" Gray shuddered.

Cockroaches were on his top ten list of grossest things ever, right below the one time Natsu had flung his dirty underwear at him.

After that, the rumors of Gray being the Heir of Slytherin spread rather rapidly. It did not help that he was, in fact, a Slytherin. Or, that he didn't give two shits about said rumors and would randomly sneak up on the people spreading them while hissing randomly.

Said rumors came to a grinding halt when Luna Lovegood was found petrified.

Blood traitor or no, literally no one could believe that Harry Potter would attack one of his three bestfriends or that Seamus wouldn't be avenging her at this very moment if Harry had had anything to do with it, at all.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Potter. We just- we need to be seen like we're doing something."

Gray responded to this declaration by drop kicking one of the Aurors sent to arrest him.

Fudge was officially on his shit list.

"My Aunt lodged a formal complaint. She's put in an order for the removal of Minister Fudge by making for a motion of No Confidence. I cannot believe that he would dare- UGH!"

Gray had managed to get away easily enough from the Aurors. He'd literally been doing it his entire life, so it was childsplay. He hadn't been found yet either, despite the fact that he was literally still in the school.

Gray had to give props to Dumbledore. Gray knew for a fact that the man had over a dozen tracking spells on him, but Dumbles had yet to divulge anything he knew, to the point where he'd been removed as Headmaster and McGonagall was currently running the school.

Erza was pacing up and down, rage evident in every step.

The Ministry's attempt to capture Gray had, of course, made the front page of the news. The second people had started shouting left and right how they'd known all along that Potter was the Heir, they'd endured the Scarlet Wrath.

Gray almost felt sorry for them. Almost.

"How's Natsu?" Gray asked, because the last time he'd seen the other boy he'd looked inconsolable. Whoever the hell this Heir really was, they'd made an enemy of the wrong people.

Fairy Tail always protected their own, even if there was only four of them left.

"He was banned from the Gryffindor Common Room after burning all of Ronald Weasley's possessions to ashes." Erza admitted, tilting her head and looking like she wished she'd been there to help.

Gray winced at the mention of Ron.

The other boy had gotten better during the summer to the point where they could grudgingly get along, but all of that had blown right out the window the second this whole Heir bullshit had started.

Then, the pair of them felt it.

Erza reacted before Gray could.

Spinning around, a pair of knives appearing out of nowhere, Erza flung them with practiced ease. There was a yelp and scream as Fred and George Weasley found themselves stuck to the walls, metal just barely avoiding flesh and instead impaling itself into cloth.

"I never miss. Twitch, and the next one goes through your hands."

Both boys gulped.

"Now. Tell me, what are the pair of you up to and how did you find us?"

The next morning found Gray with an arm full of crying House Elf.

"Great Harry Potter sir! Dobby is so sorry! Dobby tried to stop them, he really did! But, Master was craftier than Dobby anticipated! To think that he'd trick the Minister into thinking the Great Harry Potter was the Heir! Please, forgive me sir! Please!"

"Dobby! You need to calm down a bit, alright? Look at me!"

Gray pushed the elf back slightly, hands rested on the creatures' small shoulders. Big green eyes, like tennis balls, blinked up at him. They were rimmed red from tears, snot falling from the elfs face in droves.

Gray was already going to have to burn this outfit. Not that he minded. It would give him more of an excuse to walk around naked anyways.

"Dobby, listen to me. I know you're scared, but you have to tell me what you know. You have to tell me everything, so that we can fix it, okay?"

The little elf sniffed. Then, with a look of determination, he nodded.

"We've looked hundreds of times. It's not here. It's not on the map, it just isn't!"

Recruiting Fred and George Weasley came with the added boon of their map. A very interesting map that not only showed each and every secret passage in the school, but also showed each and every person and exactly what they were doing at the time.

Erza's eyes trailed over the map repeatedly, almost as if she believed if she glared at it long enough it would reveal to her the information she wanted.

"This map must have been made by tying it to the wards of this castle. There is no other way that it would be able to show us not just the layout, but the location of everyone inside. There must be a way!" she growled.

Fred and George frowned. Obviously, they hadn't considered that.

Natsu snorted, rolling his eyes at them. This got him a few glares.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Oh? If you're so smart, then you tell us what to do, flame breath." Gray snapped.

Natsu looked right at him. The usual fire wasn't there, which made Gray uncomfortable. Natsu wasn't meant to look like that. He was meant to look like an upcoming storm. Seeing him so… Lost was foreign.

"Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth. That's a rare skill. So rare, that the most effective guard he could make for his Chamber would be Parseltongue itself.

Gray, along with the others, all froze. Gray felt like hitting himself at such an obvious answer, staring at them in the face the entire time. Picking up the map, Gray closed his eyes and imagined a snake, slithering towards him.

"Reveal yourself." he hissed out.

The gasps all around told him he'd hit the money on the mark.

Of all the things that they had expected, Ginny Weasley was not it.

Because, there she stood. They'd waited for this. They'd waited for her. They'd come down to this place after the map had revealed the entrance, and waited. Then, she had appeared. Small, walking down the steps like she owned the place, a small book clutched to her chest in the same way Mard Geer used to clutch that E.N.D. book.

Used to, before he, like everyone else, got incinerated by Acnologia.

"Gi- Gin?" Fred stuttered out, voice horrified.

Ginny Weasley stared up at them, except at the same time, she didn't. Her eyes weren't their usual shade of blue. Instead, they'd been replaced by malevolent red, glowing out towards them.

Eyes that Erza recognized. With a growl, she summoned a sword.

"You. Voldemort. You did not learn your lesson from the last time this blade bit into your flesh. Do you wish for a refresher?" Erza demanded, already taking a step forth towards the possessed first year. The thing controlling Ginny smirked.

"Wait, you can't! Gin is in there!' George cried out.

Erza froze, eyes widening in realization.

This wasn't the same as last time.

This wasn't Quirrell, who had willingly given his body over to a monster. This was a child, a little girl. Someone who had been defenseless in the face of true evil and had been ensnared by it's cruel grip.

"Oh, that matters not. This child… She is nearing the end of her usefulness. She's fed me. Fed me so much, so much of her heart, of her soul!" the monster crooned, laughing at them.

In that moment, Gray decided. He was going to kill this fucker, if it was the last thing he did. Yes, Ginny Weasley was a bit on the annoying side, but anyone who could do this to a child, well… They didn't deserve to live. They didn't deserve a second chance. All they deserved was death, and Gray would deliver. If that made him a bad person, then so be it.

Those red eyes turned to Gray.

"I have you to thank, you know. You made this all possible, Harry!" Ginnymort praised. "You, and your friendship with that girl! You and Luna! Oh, how envious Ginny was! You should have seen it! You should have felt the feeling of utter betrayal she felt when you wouldn't give her the time of day, yet you spent every passing moment that summer with 'Loony Lovegood'!"

That was a complete and utter exaggeration and, by the looks on Ginnymort's face, the fucker knew that too. That didn't stop Gray's fist from clenching, the ground beneath him starting to chill and freeze.

Ginnymort spread her arms out wide, that book of hers still clutched tightly.


The book.

Gray eyed it, slow realization drawing in him. It should be inconsequential. Unimportant. Something you see and then ignore. If that was the case, though, why would it be here? Why would she bring it here, in her moment of conquest? Why, unless…

"You're tied to that book, aren't you?" Gray bit out, eyes narrowed.

Ginnymort froze. Then, she tossed her head back and laughed.

"Oh, Harry. You are sharper than you look. I still don't understand how a pathetic little Half-Blood like you managed to defeat me at the height of my power, but-"

"I didn't." Gray interrupted.

Ginnymort paused, staring at him in surprise.

"Come again?"

Gray's face twisted into a feral looking grin that would look more at place on Natsu's face.

"I didn't." Gray repeated. "My mother, a filthy little mudblood, did." Gray revealed, enjoying the way Ginnymort's face twisted in horror. "You were stopped by the pure force of a mother's love, nothing more and nothing less. You lost to a mudblood, and now you'll lose to the son of one too."

Ginnymort screamed, and that is when things got messy. Well, messier.

It turns out a Basilisk isn't much in the fact of Dragon Slayer Secret Arts.

The smell of cooking snake flesh could probably be smelled all the the way up to the Astronomy Tower. Natsu had been rather… Vindictive in his revenge.

As for Ginnymort, her attempts to fight them ended rather abruptly when she tried to turn her wand on her brothers. Keyword being the word try as it was that moment that the real Ginny Weasley fought tooth and nail and blasted herself with a Bat Bogey Hex, which gave them enough time to disarm her and take the diary.

Ginnynort struggled against the bonds they'd put her in as they examined the book.

"How in the hell do we destroy this thing?" Fred demanded, looking at the book in a mix of horror and disgust.

"It'll fix her, right?" George continued.

"It should." Gray twisted the book from side to side. They'd already tried a multitude of things, from him freezing it to Natsu lighting it up the same way he'd done to the basilisk.

Ginnymort laughed.

"It's too late. Far too late. Soon, this child will fade and I shall be reborn, stronger and more powerful than ever before!"

Gray looked up.

"Your almost as annoying as Ivan, and let me tell you, that asshole was one annoying bastard."

Ginnymort continued to grin, like a cat that had finally caught it's canary. Being trapped and bound didn't seem to dissuade her- him- it from the concept of winning. Even the dead basilisk didn't dissuade her, which made Gray very uncomfortable.

She had something else up her sleeve, something she'd achieve unless they could destroy this blasted thing.

"Let us try this. I hear there is little basilisk venom cannot vanquish." Erza spoke, turning and striding towards the snake corpse. That caused alarm to shine in Ginnymort's eyes, which was the best good news Gray had gotten in a while.

Which, of course, meant that was the moment someone had to fuck it all up.

"I told you, Minister! I followed them! I followed them, and there they are, about to sacrifice that girl to the Dark Lord!"

Gilderoy Lockhart deserved a special place in hell as he stormed the Chamber of Secrets, Minister Fudge on his heels with a multitude of Auror's following behind him.

The clash between five Hogwarts students and the best Auror's the Ministry had to offer, including Mad-Eye Moody who Fudge had managed to convinced to come back for one last mission, was annoyingly evenly matched. Gray's usual clash with Aurors involved him distracting them and then running like hell, a tactic that simply as not an option right now. 

"Someone stab the bloody thing! He freaked when Susan mentioned it!" Gray yelled out, creating more cover for them as they traded fire with the Aurors. Erza was literally dancing between them, deflecting spells off a sword as they tried desperately to stun her. They'd have managed it too if Gray hadn't created said cover.

This wasn't like when they were older. They were younger, smaller, and had nowhere near the abilities they'd had in their past lives. If they did, there was no way in hell Lucy would have been caught by that basilisk, element of surprise or no. 

Fred managed to retrieve one of the fangs off the corpse. Tossing it to George, who held the diary in his hands, the other twin lifted said fang into the air and prepared to stab down when-

They were all interrupted by a blast of dark energy smashing right into the roof. A literal tornado of it appeared around the still bound body of Ginny Weasley, before it pooled and blasted out in a ring around her.

Gray's ice wall shattered on impact.

Erza alone managed to defend against it, and even then, she looked better off than the time she'd taken the Jupiter Cannon to the face.

Before them stood a smirking teenager much unlike the girl that had once been bound. Said teenager laughed, took one look at the book he had once been so protective off, and casually lit the thing aflame.

Red eyes locking with the Minister, the youth smirked.

"Thank you, Minister Fudge. Your interference was just what I needed. They had just figured out how to kill me, too. Worry not, for you will be rewarded. Lord Voldemort always rewards those who aid him."

With those chilling words, the teen disappeared before their eyes, the only sign that he had been there being the loud cracking sound of a disapparation, which should not have been possible because they were in Hogwarts, goddamn it, but this Chamber apparently didn't play by the rules. At least, not when it came to it's Heir.

The frustrated screams of Fred and George Weasley as they watched their sister, their only sister, ripped away from them would haunt Gray for the next few weeks.

Chapter Text

A/N: So… Im be divided between making Toph next or Jason Grace for anyone familiar with the Percy Jackson series. I suppose that line all on its own is a spoiler, but meh.

Also, I lied in the last chapter. I am so, so sorry.

Published: 6/12/2018

Warnings: Torture scene, character death.

Chapter 25

Gray Fullbuster III

A beat.

One. Two.

As one, they all stayed silent, the only noise echoing in the Chamber being the sound of Fred and George, who didn't even bother trying to hide how they felt. At all. Why would they?

Their sister was dead and gone, and they had been close, so, so close to saving her, to keeping her safe and with them.

Oh god…

What were they going to tell mom?

Then, at last, the silence was broken.

"What- lies, lies! That boy- he couldn't possibly have been the Dark Lord! Potter, what lies have you-"

A loud explosion caused everyone to jump. Fudge spun, his face rapidly paling. Storming down through the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets was Albus Dumbledore himself, his robes billowing around him, eyes seemingly glowing with hidden magical might.

"Al- Albus, what are you doing here?! You are not permitted-" Fudge began.

Dumbledore didn't let the Minister finish. A casual wave of his wand send the Minister of Magic flying, his back slamming straight into one of the walls. The Aurors, save Moody, reacted to this by training their wands on Dumbledore.

Dumbledore didn't bother with words. Instead, he sent them all a single chilling look. A single chilling look that had the Auror's shaking in their boots, wands practically slipping from their grips. A few actually did, clattering to the ground.

"Now, if one of you young men would kindly explain to me why a group of grown Auror's are assaulting several of my students, I might show some semblance of leniency. Might." Dumbledore spoke, voice strained with barely held back rage.

Gray shot a look towards the unconscious Fudge. Okay. Maybe not so unrestrained.

One of the Auror's, a man with messy matted hair, a wooden leg, and a spinning blue eye stepped forward. The look Dumbledore shot the man was pure and utter disappointment.

"Albus… I'm sorry. We- I…" the man's eyes scrunched shut as he looked away in shame.

One of the Auror's turned, throwing up all over one of Salazar's precious snake statues.

Dumbledore looked around. Then, his gaze seemed to finally focus on Gray, focus on the rest of them. Focus on the dark scorch marks left behind by Voldemort's depart, on the utterly broken expression on the faces of the Weasley twins.

Gray would never forget the utter anguish in Dumbledore's face that day.

This… This was a tragic day, if ever there was one.

Hours later, after all had been sorted out, Dumbledore groaned, burying his face in his hands.

This… Oh Merlin. Dear Merlin. How… This, Dumbledore realizes, is his fault. It's his and his alone.

He'd allowed himself to be pushed out of the castle by Lucius Malfoy, and now a little girl was dead. A little girl was dead and the entire Wizarding World had fallen into disarray because of it.

If he had just fought more, if he had simply stood his ground just a bit longer, just a tiny bit… Things wouldn't have spiraled as out of control as they had.

There was much to be done. Much that needed to move forth. The Order would have to be revived, years earlier than Dumbledore had ever dreamed that they would need it. A new war was on the verge of triggering, potentially worse than the last.

Silently, Dumbledore pondered how many opponents they would face. Would they had to deal with one Voldemort… Or two?

There is nothing fiercer than a mother's wrath. The fires of hell, Acnologia himself, the terrors of Tartarus, Zeref… Nada. Nothing. Zilch. Compared to a pissed off mourning mother, all of them were childsplay.

Cornelius Fudge was run out of the country, with an enraged and crying Molly Weasley blasting at his heels. Incidentally, the same occurred when his Senior Undersecretary, a woman known as Umbridge, attempted to take the reigns in his place.

That was the situation Amelia Bones inherited.

Amelia groaned, shaking her head as she poured over the paperwork. Cornelius' corruption in his last few years in office were, quite frankly, terrifying.

One mess that Amelia practically just stumbled upon while pouring over said material was the fact that a high ranking Pureblood Heir had been imprisoned in Azkaban sans trial for the last 12 years solely based off the fact that everyone had assumed his guilt in the first place, so why bother with a trial?

Amelia felt like screaming.

Who in the world had approved of such a travesty? Flipping through documents left and write, pouring over the parchments, her eyes latched onto a single name, pointing out to her.

Amelia narrowed her eyes, fingers trailing along it.

Bartemius Crouch.

Mad-Eye Moody severely regretted his choices over the past month, starting with a request from a certain Minister of Magic. When Fudge had asked for Mad-Eyes help in stopping the Heir of Slytherin, Mad-Eye had agreed. If anything was worth coming out of retirement for, it was that.

It had been a last minute thing, which should have been the first red bell. They'd stormed the Chamber with little to no intel, going in blind. All they had were the words of Potter's classmates and an overzealous leach of a Defense teacher who had led them to the fabled Chamber of Secrets. What they had found was several teenagers surrounding a child bound in chains.

Moody hadn't been the only one there to assume the kids were being controlled by the so called Heir. Fudge insisted Potter was the culprit, but Moody hadn't bought it.

The dead Basilisk had, of course, given him pause. But, that pause had not been enough for after only a few scant minutes after they had stormed the Chamber, it had happened.

It being the death of an 11 year old girl and the apparent resurrection of a psychotic Dark Lord bent on leaving the entire world in ruins.

Mad-Eye hadn't been alone to turn on the Minister then, but what did it matter? It wouldn't change the facts.

They had fucked up. And a little girl ha paid the price. There was no other word for it. They had messed up. This was their fallacy. Their mistake.

Still, if there was anything Mad-Eye could do to make up for it, it was this.

"Well, look at what we've got here."

Bartemius Crouch Jr. glared up at him from where Mad-Eye had bound him. Silently, Mad-Eye wondered exactly what excuse would be mustered this time.

Tom Riddle smiled, his expression serene. Looking at his calm exterior alone, one would never guess that the other was caked in blood.

Case in point, a drop of it hit his cheek. Tom frowned at it, narrowing his eyes at his victim.

Petunia Dursley whimpered. Such a pathetic creature, really. Although, Tom supposed she couldn't do much else. He'd already ripped out that foul tongue of hers, incinerated it to ash.

Still, Tom smiled at her, trailing a finger along her jawline.

"Petunia, Petunia, Petunia…" Tom smiled at her. "Do you know why I'm doing this? Do you even know who I am?"

Tom had pinned her, trapped her against a wall. Bound within her own home, her own safe space, turned into a prison.

Trapped, in a cupboard under the stairs.

Petunia cried as another gash ripped along her flesh, searing and burning before rapidly freezing over.

Petunia didn't answer. Instead, her small beady eyes locked on him, terror shining in them. Terror and fear. Fear of him. Fear of Tom.

"This… Harry Potter," Tom laughed at the name. "He and I, we… Well, we share a heart, you see." Tom smiled at her, his own palm splayed over his chest. Petunia didn't comment. Her eyes showed disgust clearly, though.

Tom chuckled.

"I didn't realize it at first. I didn't at all. But now? Now, I can feel it. Harry Potter, the boy who carries the last shard of my twisted heart." Tom lifted his wand, pointing it straight at Petunia's head. "My soul, beating in his head."

Petunia's tortured screams echoed through the house as a thunderbolt was burned, straight through her head.

The woman fell in a heap, death at long last embracing her, releasing her.

Tom sighed, feeling annoyed. Ah. That… Had been a bit much. He'd wanted to keep her alive, if only for a bit longer.

Ah well. What's done is done.

Still. Tom glared down at her corpse, expression vicious.

"Harry Potter is mine, Petunia Dursley, and Lord Voldemort always protects what is his." Tom hissed.

Protect. For now. Until at long last Tom could take back what was his. Until at long last, the Horcrux resting within Harry Potter could be torn out.

Only then could Tom be complete.

Gray's third year at Hogwarts went surprisingly smoothly. Well, as smoothly as a year can go when there's an S-Rank level threat running around the country.

Amelia Bones hadn't held anything back. Unlike her predecessor, Amelia ran a very transparent ship.

The public had, predictably, panicked.

That had been the first few months. The next after that were followed by snorts of disbelief and skepticism. Skepticism, because the so called Dark Lord hadn't made any major moves, so obviously it had all been a misunderstanding.

That didn't stop Gray from being on the shit list of practically everyone in the school, though. While the students themselves hadn't generally believed Gray to be the Heir after Lucy had been petrified, that whole debacle had left them weary of him like never before.  

Well, shit list of everyone except one, surprisingly.

Gray found himself cornered by someone he'd been avoiding for a very long time. He'd known the other was following, of course, but Gray was growing tired of this. So, he had led his little stalker to a deserted hallway, waiting patiently for the other to catch up.

Gray didn't bother looking back as he spoke.

"If you've got something to say, Ron, say it."

A sharp gasp met his words.

Gray, at last, looked back. The now youngest Weasley was looking straight at him, stepping out of the shadows now that he'd been called out. No point in hiding from someone who already knows you're there. Gray turned to face him.

"Well? What do you want?"

Ron frowned, moving to take a step forward before thinking better of it. Keeping his distance, then. Gray crossed his arms. If it was a fight Ron wanted, then it was a fight he would get.

And, by fight, Gray meant he'd pin the other to a wall in ice and leave him there for the House Elves to dig out. He'd done it half a dozen times before to some of the more… Vocal Harry-is-the-Heir-and-he-murdered-Ginny synchopanths.

"Fred and George, they told me what you tried to do." Ron opened with.

Ah. That. Gray made a get on with it motion.

Ron grit his teeth.

"Look. I know… I know I haven't been the nicest to you. At all. I couldn't stand the fact that the Boy Who Lived was a bleedin' Slytherin, you know?" Ron continued. "I was mean, I was stupid, and… Ah, fuck it. I… I know you're going after him. Maybe not now, maybe not yet, but I know it's gonna happen, because he sure as hell isn't going to leave you alone."

Gray wondered if this was Ron's version of an apology. Not that he needed to do one, really. Ronald Weasley's definition of mean wasn't anywhere near Gray's. At all. Wasn't even a goddamn blip.

Still, Gray could see where this was going.

Ron looked… He had the same look. Gray recognized it. He'd seen it in the mirror, all those years ago. That wildfire, that thirst for vengeance. For the kill. To avenge what had been lost, what had been taken.

The look that had gotten Ur killed.

"Revenge isn't worth it." Gray advised. Ron flinched, shock splaying across his face. "It isn't. Don't get me wrong, I'm putting that snake faced bastard down, but I'm not doing it for revenge. I'm doing it because it's the right thing to do. Because, if I don't, he'll just keep hurting others. But, wildly going in just for revenge? That… Trust me, Ron. it doesn't even well. It never ends well. Maybe you'll get what you want. Maybe he'll be broken at your feet. But… The cost. There's a price. There is always a price, and, frankly, it usually isn't worth it."

It hadn't been for Gray. It definitely hadn't been for Gray.

Gray didn't bother waiting for a response. Instead, he spun, departing and leaving a pensive Ron Weasley behind in his wake.

Gray was honestly not surprised when it was announced Sirius Black had actually been innocent of all charges. The Ministry of Magic seriously needed a revamp. On the bright side, Amelia Bones actually seemed to know what in the hell she was doing, so there was that.

The world… Is a brutal, brutal place. Life isn't fair. It never is. Gray should have known that, the moment he finally remembered.

In his last life, he'd died, ripped apart by dragons. He'd fought against them with all he had, with every ounce of his being, but it hadn't been enough. He'd died fighting for his Nakama, but it wasn't enough. It hadn't been enough, because they had died too.

They'd fallen. They'd all fallen.

The world had come to an end and Lucy had gone back to undo it all and, in the end, she'd died too.

Perhaps she'd succeeded in her goal, but there was really no way to know.

All Gray knew was that the world was cruel and brutal and it had no mercy at all whatsoever.

It had no mercy then, and it had no mercy now.


Ginny was gone.

Except, maybe… Just maybe… She wasn't.

Gray gaped at the sight before him. The world around them was painted in white, nothing at all discernible. Just one endless, eternal plain.

He was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming. This had to be a dream. Had to, because Ginny Weasley was dead. She was very, very dead and not standing right before him, small and tiny and haunted.

Her head was titled, gazing off into the distance. At what, Gray wasn't sure. There wasn't anything to see. Anything to be. Just endless white, the ground and the skies and all of it so uniformed it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

At last, Ginny seemed to notice him as her eyes snapped up to him.

"Harry," Ginny's face twisted, as if she was fighting back tears.


No, that wasn't it at all, Gray realized as he looked her over. Ginny Weasley did not look like a girl about to burst into tears. Ginny Weasley had the expression of a girl that had already expended them all, the look of someone who'd been broken down again and again and, despite it all, was still fighting.

Fighting an utterly hopeless battle, but fighting it nonetheless.

"Ginny," Gray said, hand lifting up to reach out, wide eyed. "Is… Is that really you?"

Stupid question, really. Of course she wasn't. Ginny Weasley was dead.

Ginny shut her eyes, looking away. For several seconds, she didn't respond. Then, at last, she seemed to collect herself, looking back towards Gray.

"He's on the move. Voldemort. He's… Searching for the other pieces of himself. He wants to restore himself, so that when the time comes, he can conquer the other him." Ginny explained.

Gray's frowned. "Wait, what? What are you talking about, Ginny?"

A hand reached out, gripping at Gray's shoulder. Desperate. Frantic. Gray flinched back in surprise.

"Tom. Tom was Voldemort, but he wasn't. Just a piece. A piece of that monster. They're all pieces, all broken apart. Tom is the youngest, but he plans on merging with the others, because he says the current Voldemort is a weak pathetic mockery of what they dreamed of. Harry, you have to… you have to stop him!"

Hands gripped onto Gray's shoulder, nails digging into his skin as Ginny shook him, a desperate light in her eyes.

"You're the only one who can, it has to… It has to be you, Harry! It has to be you!"

Gray pulled back, eyes scanning her face, searching. Ginny's expression didn't change. Hope. She believed. She believed in him, because he was the absolute last thing she had to believe in. She…

"Oh god, you're real…" Gray took a step back.

Ginny let him, not saying a thing. Instead, she continued to stare at him, her expression forlorn.

"You… You didn't fade. You're still in him."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She was alive. She was alive, inside that monster. Oh god. That was worse than actually being dead. Worse, because she was awake. Awake, forced to watch as her body moved against her. Against her will, under his command.

A puppet, dancing on another's strings.

Ginny, however, shook her head, expression pained for a second before shifting back to resolution.

"It… Doesn't matter if I'm in there. Tom. He's tied me to him, completely. You know what you have to do, Harry."

What he had to-

It didn't take Gray long to realize what she meant. Gray wasn't Natsu. He actually had a brain.

Gray glared.

"I'm not killing you!" Gray snapped.

Ginny's smile was too kind. To gentle. Too soothing, coming from a child who'd had everything taken from her.

"You won't be. You'll be freeing me from him, letting me loose." Ginny argued.

Gray clenched his fist.

"No. No, fuck that. Fuck that! You… You're nakama, Ginny." Gray ignored Ginny's confused expression at the word, "I don't know you well. I never did. But, you… You matter, and I won't let you just turn yourself into a martyr!"

To this, Ginny tossed her head back and laughed.

"Oh, Harry. I won't be a martyr. I… I'm already dead. There's no saving me." Ginny smiled, except it wasn't a smile. No. It was the broken expression of a person who had looked at all the ugliness in the world, gazed right into the heart of it all, and snapped. Too much. Too much for anyone. Too much for a child.

Too much for her.

Ginny Weasley had resigned herself. She knew she was going to die. But, apparently, she was going to go down fighting, kicking and screaming the entire goddamn way down.

Well, not if Gray had anything to say about it, dammit! He refused! Not as long as there was still some part of this girl still there, no matter how deep it was buried inside the monster that had consumed her.

"But, this is good." Ginny continued on. Good? Good? What in the hell was so good about this? Before Gray could verbalized this, Ginny went on.

"This is good, because I can tell you what he's planning. I can tell you how to stop him. I can tell you how to end him."

Chapter Text

A/N: So, writing this reminded me I still haven't seen Korra Season 4, which I totally need to do. Although, I'm probably not gonna get to that anytime soon to be honest.

Also, KH III!

Excuse me, I'm going to be gone for a couple of days, cause, seriously, KH III haha

Published: 1/28/2018

Warnings: None

Featured Character:

Toph Beifong


Severus Snape

Albus Dumbledore

Hogwarts Students

Chapter 26

Toph Beifong I

If there was one thing Toph believed in with all her heart, it was reincarnation. How could she not, when her friendship with Aang had literally transpired lifetimes?

Despite Toph's utter belief in the concept, she was 99 percent sure this was not how it was suppose to work, though.

One night, Toph had gone to bed, tuck herself in, and had just surrendered herself to sleep. Next thing she knew, there was a bright searing green light burning into her forehead, her body had shrunk down twelve different ways, and she was wailing away in the arms of some stranger who kept muttering about how he was so sorry and how this was his fault and how he was going to 'kill that wanker traitor rat for snitching them out' and blah.

It did not take Toph's mind long to realize what, exactly, was going on.

On the bright side, she'd died in her sleep and not in one of the many warzones she'd been in across her life.

On the weird side, Toph remembered everything. Or, at the very least, she thought she did, and that's the kicker isn't it? How do you know you've forgotten something if you forgot it?

This was weird because Korra had never remembered her life as Aang. Korra had been Aang and at the same time she wasn't Aang. Yes, they shared the same soul and general characteristics, but one twinkle toe had been different than the next.

Logically speaking, this meant Toph should not remember her past life. She should not, but she did anyways. This made Toph an anomaly. Toph wasn't supposed to 'be' at all, which was a pretty melancholy thought, even if it was the truth.

Toph remembered. Toph remembered and she was stuck in a tiny little baby body that, at the very least, could walk about but no do much more since she was apparently a toddler. A blind toddler that had lost all the talent for Earth Bending and ah hell that would be a bitch to get back but on the bright side Toph knew the power would still be there.

Afterall, Aang always reincarnated with his bending powers. That meant they were linked not to the body or the mind, but the soul.

Unless only Toph's mind had reincarnated. That would be annoying as hell considering she couldn't see and really, was there some cosmic law out there that stated that Toph wasn't allowed to see? Just her luck to get reborn only for some maniac to blind her and make her memories return all in one blow.

What really, really annoyed Toph however, was none of these things. Oh no. Toph could deal. She didn't like it, but she could deal.


No, what really, really pissed and ticked her off was something Korra hadn't even had the knowledge to consider, but something Toph quickly realized about her new body.


Toph… Toph was a boy now.

Toph was a boy and Toph had been a girl and now Toph was a boy and… Argh!

Why couldn't Toph have been reborn as a girl? At least she knew how to manage as a girl! Now she was a boy! A slimy, stupid, annoying member of the brasher sex and-

Oh holy hell, this meant she'd never have to deal with a periods ever again. Okay. Nevermind. This might not be so bad.

Only four years later and Toph took it back. She so took it back. So, so took it back.

Not the being a big part.

No. That, she was getting used to and the longer she grew the more comfortable she became in her new body. No. No, what she truly took back was the idea that this might not be as bad as she thought.

"Freak! Get down her- WHY ARE YOU WEARING THAT DRESS!"

Okay, so Toph might be more comfortable as a boy than she had initially thought she'd be, but she still liked wearing feminine clothing. Seriously. The stuff not only was way more comforting, but it's not like Toph could see so if she looked like a fashion disaster so what?

"It's comfy." Toph shrugged.

Toph could not see her aunts expression, had never seen any expression really, but she was a master at interpreting body language. True, her seismic sense was gone(for now), but there was no mistaking the sharp intake of breath.

Disgust. Complete and utter disgust.

Hm. Toph was totally going to use this against the woman.

"If it's not enough that your parents were freaks that got themselves drunk and then killed, their son- their son- filthy little trap!" Aunt Petunia hissed to herself.

Obviously, she had no idea Toph could hear her. Normally, Toph would just let it slide. Normally, Toph would just waive it off and dismiss it. It's what she had been doing for years. She hadn't liked it, but hey, not much you can do as a baby.

Not much she could do now either, to be technical, but Toph was getting absolutely sick of it and, frankly, she hadn't been a very patient person in the first place anyways so it was a surprise it took her this long to snap.

In hindsight, this was probably both the smartest decision and simultaneously stupidest decision Toph had made so far in this new life.

Toph crossed her arms and opened her mouth.

"My parents were killed by a mass murderer after their location was leaked by a 'rat bastard', they weren't drunks." Toph corrected coldly.

The next sharp intake of breath wasn't disgust but shock. Shock followed by anger. Anger that was soon followed by something Toph had absolutely no defense against.

Before Toph could even register what was happening properly, she was on the floor while her aunt repeatedly smacked her with something. Whatever it was, it twacked painfully against Toph's flesh over and over again.

(It was a rolling pin)

"Freak! Freak! Disgusting freak, knowing things you shouldn't! My sister, dead, and for what? For a freak like you!"

"Leave me alone!" Toph roared.


Aunt Petunia was flung away and, for the briefest of moments, Toph could see the world. Everything, bright and shining and illuminated before the light flickered back out and everything was darkness again.

What… What was that?

Shaking, Toph managed to stand, using the wall to haul herself up and-



Toph could see.

Toph couldn't see in the way people saw, but in the way she'd always seen. She could see through the earth. She could see it all. She could see the world, stretched out around her. She could-

Toph froze.

Now, she was no savant in this sort of thing, but… She was pretty damn sure there a spiritual energy barrier around the house. A spiritual barrier that she could instinctively tap into.

A spiritual barrier tied to her. It was being powered by her. She was the battery that kept it running.

That… Was disturbing to say the least. Toph didn't like it. She didn't like it at all. Didn't like the way it pulled and tugged at her heart, at her senses.

Move. She needed to move. She needed to get out of here.

Toph quickly made her way towards the exit. Now that her seismic sense was working again properly, as it should, Toph didn't need to stay here any longer.

Toph had run away from a home that loved her because they were smothering. There was absolutely no way she'd stay in a home that hated her because of her very existence.

"Freak- where are you going, freak?" Aunt- no, that woman was no aunt, just a stranger- Petunia's voice stuttered out as Toph passed her in the hall.

Toph spun to glare in the general direction of the woman. Petunia's heart accelerated dangerously. It was a wonder the woman was still conscious, really.

"This place was never a home, and I can damn well take care of myself, thanks!" Toph snapped.

And, almost like magic, the words seemed the shatter the spiritual bindings Toph had to the house. With a sharp intake of breath, Toph took a step back as the power coursed right back to her.

That… That was oddly fascinating. And convenient. Actually, scratch that. Not convenient. A rather big security flaw in the defense.

All Toph had to do to shatter it was say this place wasn't a home? Well, it sure as hell wasn't one in any concept of the word, so saying it was easy. Petunia and her family had made damn sure of that.

Petunia gasped.

"Stupid boy, what have you do-" Petunia rose with a hiss, previous anger forgotten.

"Girl." Toph interrupted.

Petunia stuttered.

"Excuse me?"

"I may have been reincarnated as a boy, but I still have seventy plus years of memories as a girl." Toph told the woman. Petunia seemed locked between two divergent states, fury and rage, and fear and fright. Toph was enjoying it immensely.

Up until it was interrupted by the strange cracking sound of displaced air. Two to be exact. Toph could feel them, creeping towards the house.

They felt… Different. There was something off about them. No. No, not off. Extra.

Extra, like the barrier that had been protecting this house.

Ah. Spirit energy. Toph could now sense spirit energy. Cool. Random, but cool.

Benders like her, then?

Wait. No. That didn't make much sense, unless Airbending now also included the art of teleportation. Actually, for all Toph knew, it damn well might. She'd personally invented metalbending, so another bending art being invented wasn't that far from the norm.

Regardless, whoever these people were Toph had a feeling she should avoid them. It couldn't be coincidence that they'd arrived minutes after Toph had ripped the barrier apart.

Likely, these were the people that put her here. Not only that, they very blatantly had the place under overservation. Which meant they knew exactly how Toph was treated here… And had done nothing.

Hell, Toph didn't even have a walking stick, which hey, she didn't need anymore since her feet could do all the seeing, but her Earthbending had been shut off until a few minutes ago, period. Half the chores they made her do she'd mess up because, hello, blind child, but that didn't stop her so called relatives from working her ragged.

So, all things considered, Toph did not want to go with people that had dumped her toddler self here. The five and a half year old refused. And, better still- she now had the means to escape.

So, that's exactly what she did.

With a smirk in Petunia's direction, Toph spoke.

"See yeah, see yeah, see yeah never, smell you later!"

Toph stuck her tongue out, enjoyed the flabbergasted sounds that escaped her Petunia's throat, then stomped. The earth heeded her commands, bending around her as Toph sunk straight into the ground.

Petunia screamed.

Toph didn't bother avoiding any of the pipes, so that put to make a nice little mess for her so called relatives. Vindictive, true, but Toph couldn't bring herself to care for people that had literally always called her freak.

For the next several months, Toph dodged her chasers. They seemed rather persistent in their attempts at catching her. Of course, considering they were targeting a being that could literally feel them coming through the vibrations in the earth, the chances of actually being caught were nill.

Until the greased wonder showed up on what Toph later learned was a floating broomstick. Total cheat.

So it was that Toph found herself floating upside down by her ankle. She couldn't help the sharp scream that escaped her mouth at the act, the world ripped away from her.

Toph didn't like it. She didn't like it at all. Down. Down, down, she wanted to go back down!

"Finally! I've caught you, Potter, and now you will be going bac- what in Merlin's name are you wearing?" a male voice sneered.

Toph glared in the general direction.

"What's it look like, creepy kidnapper? It's a dress, moron!" Toph snapped.

A dress that was falling around her. That tends to happen when you're hanging upside down in midair.

"I can see that," the voice continued, "but why are you wearing a dress?"

Toph flexed her fingers and felt the earth respond. Ah. Good. She wasn't totally defenseless.



It was definitely fuzzier, but her spirit energy sense didn't seem to depend on the vibrations in the earth. Not entirely, at least.

Toph had escaped capture for months. She wasn't about to go back now. So, her best option would be to go with blatant honesty.

The story was so crazy no one sane would possibly believe it anyways.

"Because, Creepazoid, I may have been reincarnated as a boy but I spent the last seventy years with different equipment between my legs, if you know what I mean, and I'm still not used to it, capeesh?" Toph yelled.

"... What?"

Toph didn't bother answering. Instead, with a clench of her hand, she rapidly brought up her fist. A pillar of stone shot out, hitting her target head on.

The second his head hit the floor, the spell broke. With a yelp, Toph fell on her head.

"Oweeeee!" Toph yelped, sitting up and rubbing at her head. Okay. Maybe she should have softened the earth up a bit before trying that. Not making that mistake again.


Toph turned.

Creepazoid was knocked unconscious. Unconscious with a broken broomstick below him.

Broom… Stick.

"How the hell did the world change that much? Ahhh! Is this what Aang feels like? Wait, no, he doesn't remember his past lives the way I remember mine! Ahh, this is so weird!" Toph screamed, resisting the urge to scratch at her face. It honestly wouldn't get her anywhere.

What would get her somewhere, however, was… A prisoner.

Toph smiled evilly, rubbing her palms together.

It was time for the Melon Lord to finally make his return.

Severus Snape didn't bother opening his eyes as he awoke. Doing so would alert the enemy.

The enemy that was a six year old possibly possessed by the Dark Lord boy. Little else would explain the high level wandless elemental magic manipulation, although, at this point, Severus was starting to doubt part of their theory on Potter.

Particularly, the part where the Dark Lord was involved.

Oh yes, Potter was definitely possessed, but not by the Dark Lord. That had been a muggle dress Potter had worn. Not Wizards robes, but an actual dress.

The Dark Lord would not have been caught dead in such an attire and Severus was honestly wondering why that bit of information hadn't been relayed to them. Then again, it probably seemed like an insignificant detail.

After all, to most wizards a dress would look like a robe. The subtle difference meant everything.

Severus attempted to subtly test his bonds. From what he could tell, he was bound completely. It felt like he was buried in mud, thick, thick mud.

Knowing Potter's apparent affinity for Earth Style magic, this was not a surprise.

"I can tell you're awake, you know. No use pretending." the child's voice spoke.

When Severus didn't immediately respond, a spike jabbed his side. Unable to hide his yelp, Snape's eyes snapped open. Ah. So he was buried in mud. And there, several feet away, was a grinning Harry Potter, sitting cross legged on a raised little platform across from him.

The fool wasn't averting his gaze, so Severus met the others eyes with his ow-

Snape reeled back as Potter cried out in pain, clutching at his head.

"Owe! What was that?" Potter demanded, "Did… Did you just try to Energybend me?"

"I have no idea what that term means." Severus told the boy with all honestly. He also had no idea what had rebuked him so violently.



No, not boy. This was no child standing before him, no matter how much like a child Potter looked.

The reality was bizzare and downright alien, but, if Potter was actually speaking the truth, then...

Seventy years.

This wasn't Lily's son. Not anymore. Lily's son had died with her. No. What sat before Severus was not Harry Potter, but instead, a grown woman. A grown woman trapped in a child's body.

Harry Potter was dead.

And, his successor…

Severus could only think of one Earth Elemental with such affinity, such strength, such power as Potter displayed. As it was, said Elemental was also a woman, but the possibility…

Screw it. If Severus was willing to accept that Harry Potter remembered his- her, her, not his, her last life, then Potter could be anyone. But, only one person on historical records matched the abilities Potter was currently displaying.

So, with much reluctance, Severus spoke.

"Helga Hufflepuff? Is that you?"

The blind child stared at him for several seconds before falling back, loud giggles and wheezes escaping her lips.

That was a no, then.

"Huff- Hufflepuff? What kinda name is Hufflepuff? Oh god, that is gold, Creepazoid, absolute gold!" The child chortled.

It took Severus a second to realize he was being insulted.

So, not Hufflepuff. Whoever the hell this woman was, though, she was just as insufferable as James Potter. At that realization, hating her became as easy as breathing, especially coupled with the cold realization that, if this woman was here and alive, whoever Lily's son might have been was invertedly lost forever.

Several minutes later, the interrogation hadn't gotten very far. True, Toph now knew that she was dealing with a world full of witches and wizards who's powers operated far differently than Bending did, but she had been notably distracted.

Distracted by what, you ask?

"Snape, Snape, Severus Snape." Toph sung.

Snape glared.

"Silence, child."

"Notta child." Toph sang.

Snape sniffed. "You certainly behave like one."

"You're as stuck up as Kuvira. You aren't gonna try and lead a revolution and forcibly take over a country, are you?"

Snape's heart skipped a beat. Hm. Odd reaction.

"Who are you really, then? If not Harry Potter?" Snape demanded.

"Harry who?"

Anger flared in the other. Anger and guilt. Ooohh, interesting, interesting.

Hey! Wait a second, Toph could feel emotions now? Interesting, interesting.

It would probably end up being hell later on and bite her in the ass, but interesting.

"Harry Potter, the child you were reincarnated as!" Snape all but snarled.

"Ah." Toph said in realization. "Petunia and Vernon just called me freak. It's good to know I had an actual name." Toph shrugged.

Snape recoiled.

"You… you cannot be serious."

"They stuck me under a cupboard under the stairs, had me cooking and cleaning, cleaning out the garden, mopping the floors, etc, etc." Toph listed.

"You are blind." Snape reminded her.

"Blind hasn't stopped me from snagging your ass down, Creepazoid." Toph shrugged.

"... Touché." Snape accepted.

Toph leapt down from her perch. With a brief motion of her foot, she set Snape free. The older man stumbled, caught by surprise.

"You know what? You're an okay guy, when you aren't, you know, hauling me into the air like no one's business." Toph said. Then, extended a hand. "Toph Beifong, reborn, at your service."

"You are certain?" Dumbledore spoke.

Severus stared at the Headmaster before turning to shoot a look in the direction of Beifong. The child was currently giggling as she ran about the school grounds, causing messes left and right.

Hagrid loved her.

Of course, that oaf loved everything, so that didn't count for much. Regardless, Hagrid liked Beifong and Beifong, in turn, liked Hagrid.

Severus nodded.

"I'm sure. When the Dark Lord struck Potter… He didn't just take the boy's sight. He triggered memories hidden in the child's soul. Which, unfortunately, drowned out Potter's own miniscule memories in comparison." Severus grimaced.

He was still getting used to the concept really. The Boy Who Lived was really the Girl That was Reborn. Whatever had forged her also left her guarded and defended.

Severus had barely flickered over the surface of Beifong's mind before being rebuked. It hadn't been anything she done on purpose either. It had been quick. It had been instinctive. It had hurt, plain and simple.

"Then Harry Potter is truly dead." Dumbledore said, a pang of pain in the elder's voice.

Severus glanced at the girl in question.

"Dead? No. Reborn? Yes."

After the fourth time of attempting to stick her back with her relatives, Dumbledore had yet surrender. Yet again, Toph had been dragged into his office, and, yet again, he was trying to convince me her of the merits of Privet Drive.

Psh. Merits in his head, more like it. Toph simply would not go.

Instead, she'd huff and glare up at Dumbledore as he brought up the subject yet again. Some people just never learn, do they?

"I'm telling you, geezer, I'm not going back. Those people make Azula seem nice. Azula. Azula, old man." Toph emphasized.

Dumbledore rubbed at his temple.

"My dear, I have no idea who this 'Azula' is." Dumbledore said.

"Queen Bitch with a capital B."

"Language." Dumbledore admonished.

"Pretty sure I'm older than you." Toph snorted before tilting her head. "Wait, just how old are you?"

Terribly rude, true, but Toph was never known for her manners.

"I celebrated my hundredth birthday recently." Dumbledore informed her.

Toph blinked.

"... Okay, not older than me. Still. I'm not going back. Nuh uh. If you try and force me, I'll stomp and level the place." Toph threatened.

Dumbledore frowned.

"That is a serious violation of power and I cannot allow it."

"Placing me in the care of abusive assholes is a serious oversight of responsibility and I cannot abide by it." Toph parroted.

"Young man," Dumbledore's voice hardened.

"Woman." Toph corrected. "Or girl, if you prefer." She said with a small twirl.

"Young boy," Dumbledore said, just to be a stubborn mule about it, "these people are your family, they-"

"My real family didn't share a drop of blood with me. Family isn't what you're born into, it's what you make, and I will not go back."

"Miss Beifong-"

"Oh for Merlin sakes, Albus, she isn't going back and, frankly, if you try to force her she'll likely escape and never be heard from again!" Snape finally snapped.

Toph nodded in the direction of the Potions Master.

"Creepazoid's got it in one, Bumbles." Toph smiled. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I promised Hagrid I'd help him with some new Niffler's he recently acquired. Tata for now!"

With that, Toph skipped out of the room, not bothering to wait for a response.

She'd been a little freaked when she'd first woken up as a baby but, Toph had to admit, this wasn't as bad as she initially thought. She got to grow up again, she had all this raw energy she hadn't had in years, her bones didn't randomly ache and-

Oh hell. She'd have to go through puberty again. As a boy this time.


"Why is there a little kid here?"

"Who let little miss midget in?"

"That's not a girl, that's a boy."

"You sure? Looks like a chick."

"Nah, it's a boy, he's just wearing a dre- IS THAT HARRY POTTER?"

The resulting shout first brought a stuttering silence to the hall, rapidly followed by bursts of mutters and arguments and rumors and blah blah, too much information.

Toph blinked.

She'd made her way to the Great Hall because, frankly, she was hungry. Food, food, food. Toph hadn't had her coffee yet and damnit, she needed her coffee to function properly and who were these loud people and where did they-

"Woah! When did so many of you get here? There definitely weren't this many people in the castle before!" Toph exclaimed.

The students froze.

A hand appeared on Toph's shoulder. Toph leapt, dodging back and spinning about. So distracted by the hundreds of students, she had not seen that coming.

"Potter," Snape's voice drawled. "The students just got back from their winter vacation. And you, young man, should not be here."

Toph frowned. Snape… Had been pretty respectful so far of Toph not only claiming to be a woman, but also had adamantly avoided calling her anything but Toph or Beifong. Obviously, there was a reason he was avoiding doing so now, so Toph would have to play along, even if it was odd.

"I was hungry." Toph pouted.

Toph couldn't see the eyeroll, but she could practically feel it.

"Come along. We'll stop by the kitchens." Snape appeased her before turning to the other students, "Nothing to see here, all of you! Your esteemed Headmaster, I'm sure, shall explain all in detail."

Oooohhh, Toph liked this guy. For a creep, he was definitely amusing.

Snape turned to depart and Toph followed right after as the hall exploded with questions directed at a squirming Dumbledore. Hehe. Fun indeed.

Over the next few years, Toph found herself in and out of the castle. She could damn well take care of herself, as she made it blatantly known, and did not need a guardian, no matter how much it was insisted.

Still, Toph decided to play by the rules of this new world. Toph was adaptable. She'd had to be, really. There was a reason that Toph had been the one to invent the art of Metalbending, after all, and it wasn't just because she had a pretty face.

Which is how Toph found herself in the Great Hall about to her sorted. Hm. Maybe she should talk the hat into letting her into Slytherin. That would be hilarious as hell.

"I heard Harry Potter was supposed to be here this year."

"I heard Potter was raised here,"

"Come off it, that's insane!"

"It's not! Potter's been spotted a few times in the castle!"

"Wild. Probably untrue, too."

Oh, and the rumors were just on so good. Toph enjoyed them immensely. She'd enjoy messing with these people further.

Hey. No one ever said Toph was a saint.

"Potter, Harry!" McGonagall finally announced.

Toph stepped forward, finally accustomed to the name. Gasps were heard.

"Wait, that's Potter?"

"It- that's a girl, right?"

"It looks like a girl…"

Toph spun.

"Excuse you, I am a woman, brat! Don't make me take you over my knee!" Toph threatened.

Silence filled the hall. Snape groaned. McGonagall sighed.

"Mr. Potter, please get on with it."

Toph rolled her eyes as she turned back towards McGonagall.

"Yeah, yeah. Coming, don't get your panties in a twist."

Surprised sounds mixed with laughter filled the hall.

"Oh god. Potter's a Griffin for sure, don't you agree, Gred?"

"'Course, Forge. Soon, our Apprentice will join us."

Oh, poor ignorant Weasley twins.

Toph sat and felt the Hat dropped onto her head.

"Hey Marvin." Toph greeted.

"Miss Beifong," the Hat answered back, "you do know my name is not Marvin, correct?"

Toph shrugged.

"It is now. Would you prefer I call you Nabu?"

The Hat shuddered.

"Please never compare me to that being ever again."

"Marvin it is then." Toph said victoriously.

"Har har." The Hat mocked. "Now, as we both know I can't actually read your mind, where would you like to go?"

Toph snickered.

"Oh, Hattie. Can I call you Hattie? I'm calling you Hattie. I wanna turn this school upside down. Any ideas for that, buddy?"

The Hat didn't even hesitate.


Hehe. These would be a fun few years. Yes, they would.