Role Reversal

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
M/M
G
Role Reversal
Summary
Harry was not an exceptionally patient nineteen-year-old, as many in his world had found out the hard way.When he appeared in an alternate timeline in which his current human Horcrux had somehow been born much earlier than him and had become the Dark Lord in his place, Harry decided some rare restraint was needed.
Note
This is yet another prompt fill,Prompt: Hero from Another World trope to stop Voldemort but the order ends up with Harry who became a rather successful Dark Lord because Voldemort had never existed in his world.(Harry didn't tell them, of course)did this prompt get away from me? Sort of. Is it all just for my enjoyment? Yes. So nothing else matters.

What the Fuck

Harry’s day had been going relatively well, and all of his plans were in order. He should’ve known something would fuck it up.

 

It had started early, with his little horcrux, Tom, waking up from night terrors, the only thing to show from his time at that blasted orphanage. It hadn't taken long to calm him down, with some careful soothing and a light touch, he applied rare patients, which was almost exclusive for his horcrux.

 

Not long after did he and Harry get ready for the day, which for Tom would mostly be spent in the Library, but Harry’s day would be much less relaxed.

 

The first thing he did after leaving his Tom to finish breakfast alone was to check in with his Inner Circle, who had little to announce other than the same dribble about Dumbledick and his Order of Headless Chickens. He gave them their assignments for the day and not long after called a meeting with a few lower-level minions to see if they had succeeded in doing what he had asked of them.

 

They had not, which had ended in several particularly aggressive Crucio’s being sent their way. 

 

After telling them to try again, Harry retreated to his study to finish paperwork, call a few contacts, and try and get something done about the werewolf reforms. The clock struck 4 P.M. an hour into his working session when an owl dropped a copy of the day’s Daily Profit by. The front page was truly nothing new, just things talking about The Order of Headless Chickens still trying to rebel against him. While most of it was annoying, Rita truly was sweet with her words, ‘All-Powerful Dark Lord Potter.’ It made him grin like a black cat on a full moon.

 

Two hours later, he heard a ruckus outside of his study that could only be attributed to his godfather. 

 

“Oh, Prongslet~! There you are! Happy Halloween, Oh! and Happy Anniversary.” The acting Lord Black barged into his office, looking as though he had just dueled Bellatrix, which he probably had. Sirius had become Lord Black after his father had been k- Ahem, mysteriously disappeared half a year ago. Directly after inheriting the title, his godfather swore his undying loyalty to Harry, ending his time as a headless chicken spy. Also starting several bouts of political uproar, that had been a wonderful month.

 

Harry chuckled indulgently, “Thank you, Siri, that truly does mean the world to me. Did you get what I asked?” Sirius was loyal to a fault, but of all of the things Harry had ever asked of him, this was one thing that could make their relationship waver. But all worry washed away when he grinned and reached into his leather jacket pocket, pulling out a small box with the Black family crest engraved on it. 

 

“Hey, don’t worry about anything Prongslet, he’s gonna say yes.” Even with his godfather’s sure smile and assurance, Harry was lost in a rare bout of nerves.

 

-------------------------------

 

It was 9 o’clock, and Harry and Tom were currently on a moonlit terrace, enjoying the view, the food, and each other's company. They had just finished the main course and waiting for dessert when Harry stood up abruptly. Tom looked up at him, startled slightly.

 

“Love? Is something wrong?”

 

“On the contrary, my little horcrux. You have been truly mine by soul, two years today, and have been with me since that day on the train.”

 

Tom looked up at him with slightly unfocused eyes and an expression that spoke of disbelief.

 

“Harry?”

 

“And even then I wished I could’ve met you sooner and destroyed those disgusting people who plague you at night.” Harry took his horcrux’s hand and lowered himself to one knee, watching the growing surprise on the other man’s face. “You’ve been with me through everything, being my right hand and my compass keeping me on the right path, to where we are right now. No one will ever take you away from me again, that I swear. That being said, Tom Riddle, will you marry me?” The small box was open in his outstretched hand, showing off a beautiful ring engraved with the House of Black’s Crest with the Potter family motto engraved as well. It had been Harry’s grandmother’s wedding ring at one point in the past, but he felt it was perfect for right now.

 

He studied Tom’s face he seemed to forget how to breathe, trying to process it all. After a moment, Harry was tackle-hugged by the wavy-haired man, who was just murmuring ‘yes’ over and over. There was a smile on his face as he placed the ring on his horcrux’s finger, who almost seem to glow with joy as he stared at the ring on his finger.

 

Harry sat back on the terrace roof, thinking about all that he had done to get to this moment, all the murder, manipulation, torture, all the horrors he’s had to face, he decided he’d go through it all again if he could get to this moment again. 

 

Maybe that was what fucked him over. That thought had probably set off into the universe and whatever higher power that was up there promptly decided he shouldn’t get time to enjoy this moment. The worst part was he didn’t even realize something wasn’t right until he was gone.

 

-----------------------

 

Harry woke up who knows how long later, in a mostly bare room that looked like it belonged in some kind of old abandoned haunted house show where the ghost is some kind of victorian child who was murdered brutally. Confusion, concern, and most of all, anger coursed through him. Who in the hell dared to rip him away from his Tom? He was the most loved and feared man to exist in the last fifty years. Who thought they had some right to try and take him? Anger took over him fully as he rushed off the creaky mattress, and then most oddly, became extremely nauseous and fell back. As reeled from not having the strength to stand he decided it would be best to calm down and think this through. He slowly and carefully started to check on his body with a mental checklist he had since he was a child. Harry came to the startling conclusion someone had performed a summoning rite on him, though he was completely baffled as to how, exactly. Needless to say, his interest had been peaked, and he set aside his anger and tried to slowly sit up, to better see what state of disheveled he was in.

 

He was no longer in his robes, which were custom to look like a muggle suit, but instead in well-fitting but clearly not any type of stylish shirt and cargo shorts, with mismatching socks to top it all off. As much as he’d like to murder someone for dressing him like this, he knew he had to restrain himself to figure out what in Merlin’s name is going on. Just as he went to look for his wand, given that his holster was gone as well, the door creaked open slightly and some popped their head in. It took a moment for him to recognize the woman, but not long after she had walked in with a fond ‘Hello Mr. Potter,’ did he recognize her.

 

“Wait- Madam Pomfrey? What in the name of Merlin's beard are doing here? And for that matter, where is here?” Harry couldn’t say he was particularly close with the woman, but after failed experiments in flying and in Dark Arts had often landed him in the hospital wing, he had a fond respect for her.

 

She shook her head and sighed fondly, “Well, Mr. Potter, I am here to check up on you. If you must know, we’re at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.” There was a teasing edge to her voice, which in most circumstances, he would snark back at, but he was currently too busy trying to sort the information he knew.

 

“So, Sirius is here? Where is he?”

 

“Why of course he’s here, he’s talking with your parents, well, er-” Madam Pomfrey seemed to be trying to think of a way of rephrasing that, but that had already been enough information for a pretty solid theory. 

 

“Madam, I have some questions for you, would you mind terribly?” She seemed a bit surprised by the word choice but nodded lightly, moving to examine him.

 

“You referenced my parents, but then seemed to backtrack, and given my parents’ state of living where I'm from, the most logical thing I can think of is that this is some Alternative Universe. And given the way my body feels right now is evidence of some kind of rite to bring me here, so just to confirm. Madam Pomfrey, was I brought from another world to this one for some purpose?”

 

The woman only stared at him for a moment, looking as though she didn't expect that of all things. “Well, I suppose it’s best to get this out of the way now then. Yes, Mr. Potter, you were brought here from somewhere else, the reason for it is that there is a prophecy about your counterpart in this world defeating the Dark Lord, Voldemort. I suppose that would be the anchor for this ‘rite’ you’re referencing.” Pomfrey had cringed saying the man’s name the way many often did when his own was mentioned. It made him wonder.

 

“If my counterpart in this world is the subject of this prophecy, why aren’t they the one to try and defeat this Voldemort? Are they indisposed in some way? I’m sure I can fix that.” 

 

“Actually, Mr. Potter, we have found even with our reputable ranks, our version of you hasn’t been able to win against You-Know-Who, and we were hoping you could help him.” In what hell do ranks have to do with one-on-one fighting? Or maybe this person isn’t just fighting this Voldemort, no wonder they’re losing. Harry had no illusions about his abilities so he might be able at least get this version of him up to snuff.

 

“Maybe I can be of assistance, I do have quite a large repertoire of abilities. But, alas, few of those have anything to do with wandless magic.” which was total bullshit, he could do a shit ton wandlessly. “Do you happen to know where my wand ended up?” 

 

She nodded and dug through one of her pockets for a moment, then pulled out his wand and handed it to him, which he took gratefully. Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over him a few times and nodded, 

 

“Other than needing a healthy dose of rest, some food, and water, you’re completely fine Mr. Potter. Is there anything else?”

 

“Oh, yeah, do you have my phone?”

 

“....What?”

 

Harry stared right back at her, slowly realizing this place was even more different than he thought it was. “My phone, a small black flat shiny rectangular box that might light up if you touch it?” the woman was still looking at him like he’d grown a second head. “I'm sorry, weird question, what year is it?”

 

“1998, it's May 15th.” 

 

Well, Fuck. 

----------------------------

 

He had requested all of the stuff he had been sent over with, which was delivered with dinner. The girl who had brought them introduced herself as Tonks, and he vaguely recognized her as someone Sirius had asked to be pardoned and then sent away back home. Here though, she would not shut up, still babbling even after he’d started eating, quite a bit of his patients was going into not cursing her right now. After a while of him not responding she seemed to take the hint and shut up. She sadly didn’t leave until he was done eating but once she was finally gone he floated his robes over because she had left his things far out of reach as if she thought he didn’t want them. Harry’s patients were going to wear extremely thin, he just had a feeling.

 

He found his phone in his robes quickly, and thankfully it was at full charge and working. Thank Circe for muggle-magic tech. He opened his phone and went straight to his contacts, calling Tom right away.

 

“Harrison Jameson Potter. What. The. Hell.” Of all of the things he thought he would cringe at, he never thought it would be his fiancé’s voice.

 

“Before you make plans to murder me, or try to act them out, I’m in an Alternate Universe, probably in the Headless Chichen HQ and being asked to help kill some Voldemort dude.”

 

What.” The parseltongue was raspy and angry to his ears. 

 

“Yeah..” That was pretty much all his brain could come up with, but give him a break. He only woke up a few hours ago, his brain was going fucking insane with possibilities, and his fiancé was pissed.

 

“Harry, do you realize what Voldemort means?” 

 

“Voldemort means flight of death. Well, I suppose I know what he’s afraid of.” 

 

“Love, do you remember when Luna predicted that you would go somewhere unreachable and then we’d fight to the death.”

 

“Oh shit, that's what that meant, fuck. I already kind of agreed to fight him. You. him.” Harry sighed, sometimes his Griffindor impulsiveness can get the better of him, and this was one of those times. “I’m sorry, love, I completely forgot, I won't go after your counterpart here.”

 

“No, wait.” There was a beat of silence, and he could almost imagine his Tom’s face scrunched up in concentration. “If Dumbles had to go so far as to bring in you to defeat me then things are definitely wrong there.”

 

“From what I’ve gathered, your counterpart managed to become a Dark Lord, and my counterpart here is with Dumbles fighting for him and failing. That’s why they summoned me, there's also some prophecy but I don't know much about that.”

 

“Hmm..”

 

They spoke much longer after that, devising plans that would work well in multiple situations. Harry left his little Horcrux with instructions of what to do with everyone and the few people who needed to know he was well and truly gone.

 

The last thing Tom had said to him before he hung up was that he loved him. That was the thing that truly sent him reeling and made his chest ache. He had proposed, they were going to get married, and then this? Getting thrown around by the universe and ripped away from everyone he loved? He wanted to be pissed about it but all it did was make him sullen.