Superior Potter

The crowd cheered when Cedric and Harry touched the goblet. Both Hogwarts champions, well technically the Hogwarts champion and the unattached champion, were whisked away via the port key. They were supposed to appear on the stage set out. The band was playing, and the crowd was going crazy.

Things started to get tense after a few minutes. People started to speculate that maybe there was another part of the Third Task. Possibly, the two were taken to some sort of final showdown since there were two of them.

An hour later, aurors scoured the maze, the school grounds, and the nearby forest. While that did lead to clearing out an unexpected acromantula nest, Cedric and Harry were still lost. It took another two hours to bring in someone who could track the port key. In doing so, they discovered that it had been tampered with by a man that was supposed to be dead. Bart Crouch Jr was arrested, once more, and kissed to the cheers of many.

The trace on the port key led to a graveyard in Little Hangleton. There they found Harry Potter bound to a headstone, barely alive. Cedric lay dead near the goblet. The area around them was littered with masked Death Eaters that appeared to have died in horrible pain. Among the bodies of multiple Pureblood lords was a man thought dead, Peter Pettigrew. This drew questions about the supposed guilt of Sirius Black.

Most shocking of all, the unmistakable body of Lord Voldemort was found at the feet of Harry Potter. The pale figure was practically folded in half with a look of unimaginable pain forever carved on the face. Somehow, the picture of a recently unbound Harry standing over the corpse made its way to the cover of the Daily Prophet.

Once again, Harry was the Boy Who Lived. Not only that, but he also became The Boy Who Won. Cedric was heralded as a hero. It only made sense that there was some sort of battle.

Harry was rushed to St. Mungo's where the best healers in the country checked him over. Other than a few scrapes, bruises, and a new wound on his arm, he appeared fine. In fact, his famous scar had all but disappeared.

Unknown to the healers, Dumbledore did his own scans. He wasn't as worried about the physical health of Harry as the condition of his soul. The old man almost broke down into tears when he found that the leech had been completely purged. He didn't allow himself the hope that it was the final horcrux, but it meant that Harry would not have to die.

~ § ~ § ~ § ~ § ~

Harry woke up to the sound of voices.

No.

Tom woke up to the invasion of light in his eyes.

No, that wasn't right either.

Lord Voldemort woke to the feeling of a familiar magic pressing against him.

Dumbledore.

Tom sat up, scanning the room for the old man. Harry scrambled for his wand ready to strike Headmaster Dumbledore down. Lord Voldermort growled as he found his wand missing. Someone would pay for this.

The world lurched under. Three consciousnesses warring inside his skull didn't like the sudden movement. This wasn't the graveyard. Where were his followers? Where was Potter? Where was Voldemort? He had to escape.

He pressed the palms against the side of his head.

"Harry." Sirius Black called from nearby, the blood traitor.

A wicked sneer curled his lips. Dumbledore and Black, he would be done with both once he had his wand. Then he would be free from his relatives to live with his godfather.

The edges of his vision was beginning to turn gray. He felt the spell approaching, but he couldn't dodge it. It struck him in the chest. The welcoming arms of sleep embraced him.

~ § ~ § ~ § ~ § ~

He watched the two lives play out at the same time. They warred for control. Every moment Tom Riddle was gaining more ground over Harry Potter. Even then, he could see the small victories that the younger wizard managed. He held the love of his friends solid. The foreign feeling sliced through Toms advance.

Voldermort breathed his last, watching with smug satisfaction as Tom Riddle reigned supreme.

The Superior Potter.

~ § ~ § ~ § ~ § ~

Only one young man opened his eyes. He realized he would have to adjust to being called Harry. Suddenly going by Tom would raise too many questions. This wasn't the immortality that he had been aiming at but switching bodies every fifty or so years would work.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled.

That was the only warning he got before he was enveloped in a crushing hug.

"Let me go, girl." Harry growled.

She jerked back, her face scrunched up with worry. He knew that look. It was one he hadn't seen since their first year. His heart ached.

"I'm sorry, Mione." Harry soothed. "Bad dreams."

What in Merlin's taint was that? This Mudblood wasn't worthy to touch him.

A sudden spike of rage lanced through him. It wasn't directed at her, but himself.

Why?

That word. Memories of that ferret calling her that slur played through his mind.

Damn, Potter and his morals. They had infected him.

"Harry?" Her voice cut through his train of thought.

"What?" He asked in a tired voice.

"What happened?" Hermione asked. "You're the only one who survived."

"Of course, he would." Harry muttered under his breath.

Somehow, Potter survived once more. This time, though, HE had won. A wicked smile crossed his face at that thought.

"That is a creepy smile." Ron spoke up.

Harry took stock of the room around him. There was a veritable horde of ginger. Weasley. Among them he saw another familiar face, Sirius Black. A strange mix of emotions swirled through him as he looked at the raggedy man.

At least Dumbledore isn't here.

"Where is my wand?" He asked.

"It's missing." Ron winced as he said it.

"Fuck." He growled.

"Language." Hermione snapped.

"Go easy on him, Hermione." Sirius laughed. "He's allowed a few after what he just went through."

Harry nodded at the man.

"Fine." Hermione rolled her eyes. "What happened?"

"The goblet was a trap." Harry shifted in the bed to lean against the headboard. "Pettigrew killed Diggory. The Dark Lord used my blood to resurrect himself."

"Why are you talking like that?" Ron asked.

Harry arced an eyebrow in a silent question.

"You sound like Malfoy." Ron continued. "Like your wand is shoved up your arse sideways."

"Ronald." His mother yelled.

Ron shrunk. "I forgot they were here." He whispered.

Harry smiled. Now that he mentioned it, Malfoy did have a stick up his ass.

How to sound like a child?

He couldn't remember the last time he had an actual conversation. His followers obeyed his commands. They didn't stay around to chat. He thought back to his school days. An old mask slid in place.

"It's a blur." He said easing the tension in his posture while keeping it confident. "They used my blood to give Voldemort a body. He touched me." He motioned to his forehead. "Then it goes fuzzy."

Hermione hugged him again. In this position he was aware how her breasts pressed against his arm. His face flushed. He tried to look somewhere else in the room to force his attention on anything. His gaze found another young woman, Ginny the stolen memories supplied, watching him. She had a tight body. Compact, athletic. It had been a long time since he had felt the touch of a woman. That wasn't helpful. He continued his search to find an older woman nearby. Unlike the two others, she had large breasts and wide hips. He could imagine bending her over.

Damn, Potter, and his hormones.

Harry pulled his legs up, using the raised blanket to hide the quickly forming erection. Black gave him a smug smile. Harry glared at him. It only made the blood traitor smile wider.

That annoyance was erased as he felt someone approaching. For most people, feeling the aura of another witch or wizard didn't register on a conscious level. Even a mundane had one, miniscule, but still there. The effect was more pronounced if the individual was stronger. He had trained himself to feel auras, there were only a few he could recognize.

"Harry, my boy." Dumbledore smiled brightly as he entered the room.

He was pleasantly surprised by the flash of annoyance that flicked across his subconscious. The echoes of the old Harry Potter warranted further examination.

"Headmaster." He inclined his head.

"It does my old heart well to see you awake." The old man had unshed tears in his eyes.

Dumbledore seemed to remember they weren't alone. The old man cleared his throat and casually wiped his eyes.

"Professor!" Hermione leaped from his side, rushing to stand in front of the old man.

A flash of jealousy colored his cheeks. He rather enjoyed how she felt pressed against him.

"Is there any more news?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, Miss Granger." Dumbledore smiled at the girl. "Please take a seat and I will explain."

Hermione took a seat on the edge of his bed. Everyone snapped to attention.

"A number of scholars have studied the graveyard." Dumbledore seamlessly fell into his teacher mode. "From what we have been able to determine, Voldemort and his followers had performed a ritual using the bones of his father and Harry's blood to form a new body. It appeared to be successful. When the newly formed body came in contact with Harry, it activated the full force of the protection Lily was able to bestow. The magical backlash killed Voldemort, as well as his followers in close proximity. It appears that even marked Death Eaters some distance away felt pain on a lesser scale."

"He's dead?" Molly asked softly. "For certain this time?"

"I don't want to give false hope." Dumbledore sighed. "Voldemort was no fool. Twisted and evil, but undoubtedly powerful."

Harry scowled at that.

"He had started a process to obtain a crude form of immortality." Dumbledore continued. "A horcrux is a shard of a soul placed in an object. While it does keep a wizard alive, they a destroying their soul one piece at a time. It shatters their sanity. In a way, we were lucky. Facing a sane Voldemort would have been…" He drifted off. "The soul can only be split so many times before it completely breaks. Seven, in total. I know for a fact that two have been destroyed. We should not count Voldemort truly dead until the other five are as well."

A dark cloud settled on the room.

"This is still a day of celebration." Dumbledore said brightly. "Voldemort is once more a specter. It took years for him to regain enough strength to find a host to possess. He will be hard pressed to find someone so willing now that many of his followers have been killed in a very public manner."

That seemed to brighten the mood a little.

"Who were they?" Harry asked.

"The names haven't been released yet." Dumbledore said somberly. "Their assets are being seized by the ministry. You, my boy, are in for quite the win-fall once the investigation is complete."

Harry looked at Dumbledore. The confusion was clear on his face.

"There is a standing law in place regarding Death Eaters." Dumbledore explained. "It was passed in the last war in hopes of preventing further witches and wizards from turning Dark. A marked Death Eater forfeited their wealth when killed or arrested. Those responsible were given a portion while the rest was paid as compensation for those who suffered. Considering there were quite a few Lords among the dead, and you were the only one who survived the attack, it all goes to you." The old man let the information sink in. "You won't be getting their titles, but their wealth will be yours."

A small, twisted pleasure sparked in his chest. Voldemort may be all but dead, but Harry Potter was just getting started.

~ § ~ § ~ § ~ § ~

The healers cleared the room and subjected Harry to another round of diagnostic spells. He was released once everything came back clear. The clothes he had arrived in were dirty and torn to the extent that even magical repair would be quite difficult. Luckily, the ginger invasion had brought him some of his clothes. Harry was not impressed with the selection of muggle clothing. They were poorly made, the wrong size, and were obviously secondhand.

That would need to change. This Harry Potter was not going to dress like some urchin.

Sirius Black and Dumbledore were waiting for him in the lobby. The swirl of emotion was starting to ease when he looked at the two wizards. He could manage a level of respect for Black, the man had escaped Azkaban and was fiercely loyal. That could be useful down the line. Dumbledore, however, the old man still needed to be dealt with. As Voldemort, the old man had been an obstacle. It was just as true now; Dumbledore didn't know yet.

"Harry." Dumbledore smiled as he approached. "There is something I need to discuss with you."

Harry arced an eyebrow.

"Voldemort was defeated, but not for good." Dumbledore spoke in low tones. "I am gathering a group to hunt down the rest of the horcrux. Until then, I'm sorry to say, you will need to return to your relatives."

A flash of anger and disappointment played across his face. Instinctively, he looked to Sirius.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Sirius sighed, dropping his gaze. "There are wards in place to protect you there. That's the only reason you have to go back. We'll get this done as fast as we can."

Harry stilled.

"You're going with him?" He asked.

Sirius nodded.

"The Wizengamot is scrambling to fill the seats." Sirius explained. "I was able to leverage that, plus the settlement for my unlawful capture, to fund a team to track down the remnants of Voldemort. The line is that we're hunting down Death Eaters and destroying Dark Artifacts, which isn't too far from the truth."

"I'll be alone?" Harry asked.

"We'll stay in touch." Sirius gave a strained smile and patted him on the shoulder. "I was able to get a couple of aurors stationed near you. They'll keep the muggles in line and help keep you up on the hunt."

Harry took a deep breath. He focused on pushing down the anger.

I can work with this. A few weeks unsupervised. That should be plenty of time to adjust to this new life and prepare.

Harry nodded. "Fine. Let's go."

~ § ~ § ~ § ~ § ~

AN:
This was inspired by the Spider-Man plotline Superior Spider-Man where Doctor Octopus takes over Peter's body. What do you think?