A New Potter v2 - Chapter 1

A New Potter - V2

My head swam and my body ached. I could feel blood dripping down my forearm. A slab of cold stone pressed against my back. My hands were tied. This was not how my mornings usually went. My bed wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but there was a big difference between a cheap mattress and stone.

A shock of pain tore through my body. It stopped as quickly as it began. That helped kick my brain into gear. It was still night. I was outside and I wasn't alone. There were people standing around, watching me with cruel glee in their eyes. A few of them wore masks that looked like poorly shaped skulls. All of them wore dark robes.

"Don't ignore me, Potter." A voice screamed.

Another shock of pain, longer this time, ripped through every nerve ending. I was left panting, curled up on the ground by the time it stopped.

I turned toward the origin of the voice. My thought process came to a sudden, sharp halt. I could almost feel my brain bumping my skull. Before me stood Voldermort in his freshly made body. No nose, pale skin, and everything.

This didn't make sense. How the hell was this possible? He seemed to think I was Harry Potter, but he didn't exist outside of fiction. Either I was dreaming, or I was dead. Another option was that I had a complete mental breakdown and was hallucinating all of this. The pain felt pretty damn real, so that ruled out the dream. If I was dead, the afterlife sucked. Lastly, if I had literally had a mental break, there wasn't anything I could think of to make it stop.

The only thing I could think of was to play the part until things made sense.

"Did they teach you to duel, Potter?" Voldermort asked. "Give him his wand."

A man that had to be Peter Pettigrew scurried over to me. He pushed a wand into my hand before quickly retreating. I knew this scene. It was at the end of book four. The cup had been a port key to the graveyard. Voldermort used the duel to torture Harry a bit before somehow Harry managed to escape. Unfortunately for me, the details of said escape were not something I could remember.

There was only one thing to do: something incredibly stupid and hope it worked.

"Yes, they did." I said as I scrambled to my feet. "On my magic, I, Harry Potter, challenge you, Tom Riddle, to a duel."

Voldermort froze. The Death Eaters around us tensed. I was going off-script. It was time to see how far I could push the narrative before it broke. Maybe that would be my ticket to sanity. Or I would find out what would happen when I died in a dream.

A gravelly laugh echoed through the graveyard.

"What are your terms?" Voldermort asked with a maniacal grin.

"Duel to disarm, not kill." I said quickly. "If you win, I go back and kill Dumbledore within the next twenty-four hours. You go do whatever it is you have planned but leave me and Hogwarts out of it."

"Do you really think you could kill Dumbledore?" Voldermort scoffed.

"I know I could, no one would expect it." I replied.

"And if you win?" Snakeface seemed amused.

"You let me go, leave me and Hogwarts alone, and go about your plans legally." I was pulling this completely out of nowhere. "Your minions have enough political pull to have you in office in a couple of years. No murder, rape, or kidnappings."

Voldermort cackled. He practically doubled over with laughter.

"I see no downside for me in this." Voldermort said once he calmed down. "Aside from letting you live."

"I'm not going to get in your way." I said with a shrug. "I'm still in school. If Britain is pinning its hopes to beat you on a kid that hasn't even graduated yet, then they can hang for all I care."

"Anything else?" Voldermort asked.

"Oh, yeah." I snapped my fingers. "There is a woman named Delores Umbridge. Regardless of how the duel goes, she needs to die before by Friday. Ask any of your followers who've dealt with her in the past, people will raise a glass to you once she's dead."

There were some murmurs of agreement among the Death Eaters.

"I accept." Voldermort replied. "I'll allow a moment for you to prepare."

I nodded. "I appreciate it."

The stretch of ground between us leveled out and any debris was cleared away. A Death Eater with platinum blond hair that had to be Lucius Malfoy stepped forward. He came to a stop by the center of the newly made dueling line.

I desperately searched my memory for any spells I could remember from the books and movies. It would be interesting to see if something from another source would work, but now was not the time. There weren't many that I could recall off the top of my head, regardless of the origin. I didn't think it would be as easy as shouting Fireball. Did it need to be in quasi-Latin?

"You may start at the count of three." Lucius spoke loud and clear.

I squared up in my spot, studying my opponent. Voldermort seemed rather pleased with all of this. He got to show how he was superior and teach me a lesson at the same time. My only chance was to stick to the current plan: do something incredibly stupid and hope it worked.

"I'll give you the first shot." Voldermort called.

I nodded.

"Bow to your opponent." Lucius called.

We did.

"One."

An idea came to mind.

"Two."

This was either going to be brilliant, or incredibly stupid.

"Three."

"Accio Robe." I yelled.

Voldermort grunted as his robe yanked from behind him, trying to obey my command. He spun with the motion, letting the piece of clothing fly free. It spread out as it flew toward me, blocking his line of sight.

"Bombarda." I commanded.

The robe launched back toward Voldermort. It was sliced to ribbons before almost instantly.

"Clever, Pot-"

His words were interrupted as my fist slammed into his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. Voldermort folded, his head nearly touching his legs. I grabbed his wand with my free hand and yanked it from his grasp.

The robe had blocked his line of sight long enough for me to close the distance. It was a desperate plan using the two spells I could remember, aside from summoning a Patronus or the Killing Curse. I didn't think I had the ability to cast either.

I hopped back out of reach. My wand pointed at the wheezing form of Voldermort with his sweeping along his followers. It didn't seem to be needed; they were all staring in shock at the scene. Slowly, Voldermort regained his composure. He straightened his posture and glared at me.

A wicked grin spread across his face.

"Well played." Voldermort said with an approving nod.

"If it's a stupid idea and it works, it's not a stupid idea." I said letting out a ragged breath.

His red eyes dropped to my wand, then shift to his. I spun it in my hand, holding it out handle-first to him. Voldermort smiled even wider. I turned away and walked over to where Cedric's body was sprawled.

"What do you think you are doing?" He asked. Voldermort watched me intently as I maneuvered the body across my shoulders in a fireman carry.

"If you'll excuse me." I said with a small bow. "I need to get back. The port key was a trap, we were attacked. It was too dark, I didn't see who it was. Cedric dove in front of a curse to save me."

"And you expect me to just let you leave?" His voice sent a shiver down my spine.

"That was the deal." I replied. "Break it and lose your magic. Remind me, how do Pureblood's treat squibs?"

Voldermort glared as I hobbled over to the cup.

"Good luck with the election." I said before grabbing the port key.

An invisible hook snagged me behind my bellybutton and tugged me off of my feet. The world spun wildly. It came to a sudden halt, sending me tumbling out across a wooden stage. Cheers, music, and fanfare ground to a discordant end.

I looked up at the assembled crowd. My vision swam. I had hoped that taking the port key would break me out of whatever was happening to me. No such luck.

"Fuck me." I grumbled.

I made sure not to go with the fake Moody. Instead, I allowed myself to be directed a nearby tent for examination. At some point they took my wand to check what spells had been last used. I repeated my story a few times. Ambushed, it was too dark, we fought, Cedric saved me. First to Dumbledore, then to the magical police, next to Hermione and Ron, who were almost identical to their movie counterparts. Hermione had bushier hair, like she was supposed to, and Ron was a thinner than expected.

The ministry was much more accepting of the story of some random dark wizards than the return of Voldermort. A well-placed question about Moody being missing led to the discovery of the real one that had been held captive. The fact that my name had come out of the cup and Moody had been impersonated helped sell the dark wizard angle.

Dumbledore wasn't completely convinced, which made me wonder how much he actually knew about things. He didn't press me for answers. I felt a subtle brush against my mind when he looked at me. Luckily, my confusion from waking up as Harry Potter and the dark graveyard supported my story. I hadn't actually seen Voldermort get his new body. Being tortured and my adrenaline had been pumping so much through the duel that I was having trouble getting my own thoughts in order.

The coming down from the fight knocked me out. It was possible that the healer lady had slipped me a potion to help me along. She had given me one for pain relief shortly before I dropped off.

Never trust a nurse, a cat, or a nun. The phrase ran through my mind before sweet sleep took me.

~ § ~ ꬸ ~ Ϟ ~ ꬸ ~ § ~

A New Potter was the first fanfic I posted on AO3. It started out as a basic Self-Insert / Reincarnated as a Slime type story and got away from me. I felt like reworking it. The plan is to try something new while keeping to the base idea that I had originally. No Hogwarts Founder Inheritance, Harry being insanely OP, or using overdone tropes.

I hope you like it.