The aftermath of the final battle left an insane Harry Potter free reign of 1927 with a shadow of Lord Voldemort lingering inside him.
Chapter 01: In the Beginning...
A blinding flash of white light appeared out of nowhere in the outskirts of Little Hangleton, leaving a man around 18 years of age, with unruly black hair and it was though his features had been burned and blurred; they were waxy and oddly distorted, and the whites of the eyes had a permanently bloody look.
The man looked up at his surroundings with a look of disgust slowly covering his face, '/Timera!/' He muttered, waving a wand in the air in front of him causing grey smoky letters and numbers to form in front of him:
30, July, 1927
The man's voice seemed to purr in delight at seeing the date. 'Perfect, it worked ...' Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived gave his wand an upward flick using a non-verbal spell and his black robes were instantly transfigured into 1920's style muggle clothes.
While walking through the town, Harry's eyes caught site of a fancy looking manor over looking the town, immediately after seeing it, a voice hissed in his head, Kill them! Kill m- our filthy muggle father and grandparents! Harry let out a growl at the thought of their grandparents and immediately headed towards the Riddle House, following the order.
Upon reaching the door, Harry gave his wand another upward flick. '/Reducto!/' A jet of orange sparks flew from his wand and collided with the door, instantly smashing it to pieces.
An old man, lady and a young man that looked somewhat like Harry instantly ran in to the room and stopped dead upon setting eyes on him. "Wh-who are you?" The old man demanded angrily.
Harry, looking amused, replied. "Don't know who I am, filthy muggle? I am Lord Voldemort!" He jabbed his wand at him. '/Avada Kedavra!'/ A beam of eerie green light emerged from his wand and hit the man in the chest; who immediately fell to the ground, dead upon contact.
The youngest man's eyes widened. 'Father!' He turned his sights on Harry. 'What did you do to him?' He roared, anger contorting his face.
'I killed him,' Harry replied simply, 'Like I am going to kill you, but first ...' He jabbed his wand at the old lady. '/Crucio!/' The beam of red sparks rocketed from his wand and upon impact the old lady fell to the ground withering in pain under the effects of the Cruciatus Curse.
The youngest man gave a roar of fury and jumped at Harry, who simply stopped the curse and aimed his wand at him. '/Effrego!/' The spell collided with his rib cage, breaking it instantly.
'/Avada Kedavra!'/ The second killing curse flew from his wand, instantly killing the recovering old lady. He turned his attention back to the young man. 'Bow to death, Tom!'
Tom Riddle's eyes widened dramatically, though before he could say anything, Harry flicked his wand. '/Silenco!/' Tom attempted to say something, though failed miserably, 'No one to hear you scream ... /Crucio!/' Harry watched in satisfaction as the curse impacted upon Tom's chest and like his mother, he fell to the ground withering around in pain.
He did not stop the curse until Tom looked on the brink of insanity. 'Enjoy that, /Father/?' Harry walked over, closer to Tom. 'This is for abandoning my Mother!' He sliced his wand in the air in front of him. '/Sectumsempra//!/' The spell sliced Tom's head clean off causing Harry into a fit of maniacal laughter.
When he finished laughing insanely, he raised his wand and mumbled, '/Morsmordre!/' Causing a colossal skull, composed of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue, to emerge from his wand. It rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of green smoke. Harry turned on the spot and with an almost silent /crack/, disapparated from the Riddle House as soon as the Dark Mark was etched into the day sky.
Harry reappeared shortly after outside a building half-hidden amongst a tangle of trunks. Its walls were mossy and so many tiles had fallen off the roof that rafters were visible in places. Nettles grew all around it, their tips reaching the windows, which were tiny and thick with grime. He gave his wand another wave and transfigured his clothes back into black robes.
Harry moved forward quietly and cautiously, he stopped and looked up and mumbled something under his breath. There was a rustle and a crack and a man in rags dropped from the nearest tree, landing on his feet right in front of Harry, who raised and amused eye-brow. 'Well trained monkey, aren't you?' He asked.
'/You're not welcome/' the man standing before him hissed.
Our uncle, Morfin Gaunt, the voice hissed and the back of his head.
Morfin had thick hair so matted with dirt it could have been any color. Several of his teeth were missing. His eyes were small and dark and stared in opposite directions. He might have looked comical, but he did not; the effect was frightening - to any one but him, of course.
'/You're not welcome./' Morfin repeated raising his wand.
But before Morfin could do anything an elderly man came hurrying out of the cottage banging the door behind him so that a dead snake nailed to the door swung pathetically. 'Morfin!' He said in a loud voice. This man was shorter than Morfin and oddly proportioned; his shoulders were very broad and his arms overlong, which with his bright brown eyes, short scrubby hair and wrinkled face, gave him the look of a powerful, aged monkey.
Our Grandfather, Marvolo ...
'Ministry is it?' said the older man, Marvolo Gaunt, asked looking up at Harry.
'No,' Harry said coldly, 'I'm here for a...' He searched for the right word. 'A Personal reason,' He finished. 'I take it, you are Marvolo?'
'S'right' Said Marvolo, before turning to Morfin. '/Get in the house. Don't argue./'
Morfin seemed to be on the point of disagreeing, but when Marvolo cast him a threatening look he changed his mind, lumbering away to the cottage with an odd rolling gait and slamming the door behind him, so the snake swung sadly again.
'That was Morfin, wasn't it?' Harry asked.
'Ar, that was Morfin,' Said Marvolo indifferently. 'Are you pure-blood?' he asked, suddenly aggressive.
'Yes, I am,' Harry replied simply. 'Perhaps we could continue this discussion inside?'
'All right!' bellowed Marvolo. 'Come in the bleeding house, then, and much good it'll do you!'
The house seemed to contain three tiny rooms. Two doors led off the main room, which served as a kitchen and living room combined. Morfin was sitting in a filthy armchair beside the smoking fire, twisting a live adder between his think fingers and crooning softly at it in Parseltongue, which made Harry inwardly sneer, /What a pathetic song/, The voice said in disgust.
There was a scuffling noise in the corner beside the open window and Harry turned towards the girl who made the noise. She was wearing a ragged grey dress that was the exact colour of the dirty stone wall behind her. She was standing beside a steaming pot on a grimy black stove, and was fiddling around with the shelf of squalid-looking pots and pans above it. Her hair was lank and dull and she had a plain, pale, rather heavy face. Her eyes, like her brother's, stared in opposite directions. She looked a little cleaner then Marvolo and Morfin though she had a defeated look to her.
Harry couldn't help but stare at her, Voldemort's mother - /No/, the voice in his head corrected him, /Our Mother/.
'M'daughter, Merope,' Said Marvolo grudgingly, as he saw Harry's look towards her.
'Good Afternoon,' Said Harry.
She did not answer, but with a frightened glance at her father turned her back on the room and continued shifting the pots on the shelf behind her.
'Well, Marvolo,' Said Harry, 'To get straight to the point, I wish-'
However Harry was interrupted by a deafening /clang/. Merope had dropped one of the pots.
'/Pick it up!/' Marvolo bellowed at her, 'That's it, grub on the floor like some filthy muggle, what's your wand for, you useless sack of muck?'
Harry felt a surge of anger flood his body as Marvolo insulted his Mother. 'Marvolo,' Harry growled in a low threatening voice, as Merope, who had already picked up the pot, flushed botchily scarlet, lost her grip on the pot again, drew her wand shakily from her pocket, pointed it at the pot and muttered a hasty, inaudible spell that caused the pot to shoot across the floor away from her, hit the opposite wall and crack it two.
Morfin let out a mad cackle of laughter. Marvolo screamed, 'Mend it you pointless lump, mend it!'
Merope stumbled across the room, but before she had time to raise her wand, Harry lifted his own. '/Reparo!/' The pot mended itself instantly.
Marvolo looked for a moment like he was going to shout at Harry, but seemed to think better of it: instead he jeered at his daughter, 'Lucky the nice man is here, isn't it? Perhaps he'll take you off my hands; perhaps he doesn't mind dirty squibs...'
'Actually,' Harry said, while Merope, without looking at anyone, picked up the pot and returned it, hands trembling, to its shelf. 'That is what I'm here about,'
Marvolo seemed surprised for a moment before he walked over to Merope, and for a moment, Harry thought he was going to throttle her as his hand flew to her throat; next moment he was dragging her towards Harry by a gold chain around her neck, /Slytherin's/, the voice commented, /Salazar Slytherin's/.
Marvolo pulled the locket off Merope's neck and pushed her into Harry, sneered and spat on the ground in front of her.
'/Be gone you filthy squib!'/ Marvolo hissed at Merope after pushing her into Harry.
Harry let out a growl, and, to all three Gaunt's surprise Harry hissed out angrily, '/You would do well not to insult her, Marvolo... I can be dangerous when I'm angry,/' He put his hand tightly on Merope's shoulder and directed her out the door. "I'll pop around for another visit sometime, Marvolo," He said in his cold manner and pushed Merope out of the cottage.
They walked until they were at a sign with two arms. The one pointing to the way they had come read: "Little Hangleton: 1 mile". And the arm pointing the other way read: "Great Hangleton: 5 miles".
Harry stopped and turned to Merope, who was whimpering, '/Why so glum Merope?/' He asked, '/It's not like you're leaving anything behind, Tom Riddle is dead./' Merope's eyes widened as she realized the Muggle that she had a secret burning passion for, was dead. '/So, as you can see... You are better off with me. I'll treat you better then Marvolo ever did.../' And finally, Merope shakily agreed to go with him. He held out his arm. 'Hold on tight,' and with a crack Harry and Merope dissapparted from Little Hangleton ...