Chapter 1
The Dark Lord’s Castle
9:03 AM
Harry didn’t really understand how he got here. He had dove into the veil to save Sirius, and somehow, instead of waking up in some misty void, he awoke in the center of a garden. He frowned, his hand coming up to rub at his scar while he looked around. The garden was beautiful and well-kept, and in the distance, Harry could see a giant, dark, and foreboding castle. He slowly got to his feet, trembling under the weight of his injuries. He took a step forward, hissing as his bruised and battered body protested.
Is he dead? Is this death? He felt a little put out; he always assumed death was painless. Looking around he struggled to find anything familiar. He just wanted to save Sirius, the only person who seemed to actually care about him. Sirius, Harry thought with a wave of grief, his godfather was gone. Professor Lupin had said that Sirius was gone, but Harry refused to accept this.
“SIRIUS?!” Harry screamed, looking around. There was no answer, and Harry was beginning to freak out. He was cold, hurt, in a lot of pain, and in an unfamiliar place. He just wanted to go home. “SIRIUS WHERE ARE YOU?!”
Harry jumped when he heard the familiar pop of a House Elf. “Who’s are you?” a house elf asked, causing Harry to turn around and face it. The House Elf let out a surprised shriek when she saw Harry’s face, hands coming up to nervously twist her giant ears. “Little One…? Yous be big?”
“I’m sorry can you help me? I don’t know where I am,” Harry asked gently, choosing to ignore the strange question. “I’m looking for someone. Can you help me find him?”
“Little One be looking for his Papa?” the House Elf asked, her eyes lighting up. “Mipsy be taking yous to your Papa.”
“My Papa?” Harry asked, his eyes widening. So he really was dead, then? Was this heaven? It was nice, although Harry could do without the agonizing injuries. This House Elf was going to take him to see his mom and dad, though, so Harry supposed it would be okay. “Okay, you can take me to see my Dad. Could you also take me to Sirius?”
“Yous be looking for Mr. Black?” the House Elf asked in confusion. Harry grinned and nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes! Yes please!” Harry cried, his hands shaking at the thought of seeing his family. A small part of him felt bad that he was dead now, but mostly he was happy to be free from all the stress and pain that came with being alive. “Please take me to Sirius!”
“Mr. Black be speaking with yous Papa,” the House Elf said. “Mipsy be taking yous now.”
Harry grinned, his emerald eyes shining brightly with excitement as he followed the House Elf. She led him through the beautiful gardens up to the scary castle he’d seen. Harry could feel a bit of hesitance creeping up inside him, but he pushed it away in favor of seeing his family again.
The interior of the castle was actually much nicer than the exterior, beautiful decor and furniture making the castle seem open and welcoming if a bit pretentious. Harry followed the House Elf through the halls of the surprisingly empty Castle---this place is where souls go after they die, yes? So where was everyone?---only to stop in front of a set of huge oak doors.
“Mr. Black and your Papa be in there, Little One.” the House Elf said, looking at him nervously. Harry smiled at the House Elf gratefully, nodding at the little Elf before he pushed open the grand doors.
His gaze landed on Sirius’ surprised face and Harry grinned, throwing himself at the man. “SIRIUS!” he cried, tears springing into his eyes. “I thought y-you were gone for good! I’m so glad you’re o-okay!”
“Um… Who are you?” Sirius asked, looking at him with a funny look in his eyes. Harry frowned before he realized that Sirius was joking and chuckled, playfully shoving his shoulder.
“Funny joke, Padfoot,” Harry said. “It’s me! Harry! Your godson!”
Sirius made a choked noise in the back of his throat as his eyes widened, tracing Harry’s figure up and down with disbelief. “H-Harry?” he asked, his voice shaky. Harry frowned at the look of awe in Sirius’ face.
“Sirius are you okay? You’re acting really weird,” Harry said, pulling back a little. “Is it because we’re dead?”
“Dead?!” Sirius cried, his voice choking.
“Yeah, Professor Lupin told me I’d die if I went through, but I couldn’t leave you!” Harry exclaimed. “Is this heaven? The elf said my dad was here, is mom here too?”
“Harry what are you talking---” Sirius started, only for a frighteningly familiar voice to interrupt him. The voice sent shivers running down Harry’s spine, his face paling as his fists clenched.
“I’m right here, precious,” the voice said. “Would you care to explain what’s going on?” Harry turned around slowly to see Voldemort sitting in an armchair a few feet away from Sirius. Only, he didn’t look like the Voldemort that had come out of the cauldron, no, he looked like an older version of Tom Riddle.
“Y-You!” Harry cried, pointing a trembling finger as he took a step back. “What are you doing here?! Did you follow me?!”
Voldemort frowned as his crimson eyes trailed Harry up and down. “You certainly look like Harry Potter,” he said, leaning forward. “You even have his scar. This is very strange. Tell me, who are you, and why are you impersonating Little One?”
“W-What?” Harry asked, his eyes wide.
“I won’t ask again.” came Voldemort’s terrifying response. The red eyes that had been thoughtful before were now hard with the familiar anger and loathing that Harry was used to seeing from him.
“I look like Harry Potter because I am Harry Potter,” Harry said, his face contorting into a frown. “I don’t know why everyone keeps calling me Little One, though. Um, I’m sorry, how are you here? Did you die too? I thought this was heaven?”
“You think you’re in heaven?” Sirius asked, looking at Harry strangely. “Isn’t that where muggles think they go after they die?”
“Yes,” Voldemort answered. “This is obviously a trick of some sort. Someone from the Order must be trying to trick me.”
“I’m really confused,” Harry said, nervously rubbing his lightning scar. “I don’t understand what’s happening here. One moment we’re in the Department of Mysteries, fighting for our lives then Bellatrix kills Sirius so I follow after him only to end up in some garden and then a House elf shows up and says my dad and my godfather are here but all I see is Sirius and Lord Voldemort, who I’m pretty sure didn’t die with me, and I really just want to know what’s happening right now!” Harry sucked in a huge breath after he finished his rant, risking a glance at Voldemort to see him staring at Harry, looking as confused as Harry felt.
“Department of Mysteries?” Voldemort asked. “What on Earth were you doing there?”
“You… You tricked me into coming,” Harry said with a frown. “Remember? You sent me a vision and I came to rescue Sirius, only Sirius wasn’t there.”
“I did no such thing,” Voldemort said, sounding offended at the idea. “Why would I need to trick you to come to me? I live with you!”
“You WHAT?!” Harry cried, stumbling backward in shock. “No, you don’t! I… I don’t understand! Is this a dream or something? What is going on?!”
“I would like to know the answer to that, as well,” Voldemort said. “If this is a trick, you are failing miserably. I suppose I’ll have to get the truth out of you one way or another.”
“W-What are you doing?” Harry asked, flinching back when Voldemort stood, walking over to him. “What are you doing?! Stay away from me!”
Voldemort clicked the back of his teeth. “Honestly, stop moving away from me. I’m going to look through your mind to see what you know.”
“What? NO! SIRIUS! SIRIUS HELP ME!” Harry cried, diving behind his godfather. This was not supposed to happen! He was supposed to be reunited with his family in heaven, not run away from Voldemort. Is there no escaping the madman, even in death?
Harry cried out in fear as Voldemort reached behind Sirius and easily pulled Harry towards him. Voldemort sneered with displeasure at Harry’s attempts to escape his hold but managed to detain him easily. Just as Voldemort was about to look into his mind, Harry was saved by the door opening.
“I brought Little One---” a voice called, causing everyone to turn and look at the pair standing in the doorway.
“Wha---Professor Lupin?!” Harry cried. “You’re dead too?”
“Dead? What are you talking about? Do I know you?” Professor Lupin asked, looking at him in confusion for a second before he breathed in, his eyes widening with a flash of amber. “L-Little One?”
“Why does everyone keep calling me that?!” Harry cried. “My name is Harry Potter!”
“Moony who does he smell like?” Sirius asked, drawing everyone’s attention away from Harry.
“He smells like Little One!” Professor Lupin exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Like, exactly like him! Down to the magic! I don’t understand…”
“Yeah, me neither,” Harry snapped. “Did you follow me too? Is everyone dead? Was there an explosion or something?”
“Why do you keep asking that?” Sirius asked. “You’re not dead. At least, I don’t think you are. None of us are dead, either. Well, except for…” He trailed off, his eyes glancing towards the other figure in the doorway.
Harry hadn’t looked at the other person in the room till now, distracted by Professor Lupin’s appearance and the crazy Dark Lord that still had a painful grip on his shoulders. The figure was tiny, a few inches shorter than Professor Lupin’s knees. He wore a pair of brown khaki shorts and a white dress shirt with suspenders, a bag slung over his shoulder overflowing with green plant-life. He looked like…
“Is that me?!” Harry cried, his jaw dropping in pure shock. “That’s… That’s me! As a baby! What the hell? What’s going on? Someone better start explaining because I’m seriously starting to freak out! Is that---are those stitches on baby me’s neck?”
The baby version of Harry looked up to meet Harry’s eyes, and Harry gasped at the bright emerald color. It was like looking in a mirror! (If the mirror de-aged you ten years) The baby version of Harry looked at Harry with confusion before his eyes trailed up to meet Voldemort’s. A blinding smile broke out across his face as he ran forward, arms outstretched as he cried, “Papa!”
That was when Harry lost consciousness.
“Let me get this straight,” Voldemort said with a sigh, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose with exasperation. After the older version of Little One passed out in his arms, causing Black and Lupin to freak out, Voldemort had carefully set the teen on the couch and lifted his son into his lap, and waited patiently for the teen to come to. When he awoke, he took one look at Voldemort and let out a loud groan, claiming that it wasn’t a dream, before Voldemort demanded an explanation. He then sat there as teen Little One told his story. “You were tricked into the Department of Mysteries through a dream---”
“It was a vision!” teen Little One cried indignantly.
“---and snuck out of Hogwarts without telling anyone to save Black, only to find out with was a trap and then engaged in a battle with people who have years of experience ahead of you, and as you’re about to be killed, Black comes in to save the day, only to be pushed through the, what was it you called it? The Veil?” Voldemort asked, scoffing when teen Little One nodded. “You witnessed Black being pushed through a veil, and instead of heeding Lupin’s sound advice, you decided to throw yourself through the very same veil in hopes of saving him, only to wake up here. That sound correct?”
Teen Little One nodded. “That’s about it, yeah.”
“God what was I thinking?!” Voldemort exclaimed. “Do you have any idea how worried I must be? How could you just throw yourself through a veil in the Department of Mysteries without thinking?! Didn’t I teach you to think before you act?”
Teen Little One frowned with confusion. “Um… what? I don’t know what you’re talking about…?”
“Obviously this ‘veil’ was a rift through space and time, and by jumping through it, you were transported to my world.” Voldemort said with a shake of his head.
“Wait, what?!” Harry cried. “Are you saying this is another dimension? Like, a whole other world like mine?”
“Similar, but clearly very different,” Voldemort said, eyeing the older version of his son with a mixture of jealousy and longing. So this is what Little One would have looked like had he lived. How lucky this other Voldemort was, to have been able to raise Harry. Voldemort loved Little One with all he had, and he was grateful that he could have Little One with him forever, but a small part of him wished that Little One could grow up like Harry could. “A parallel universe, if you will.”
“That’s so cool!” Harry exclaimed before he frowned with realization. “Does that mean my Sirius is here, too? Do you think we could find him?”
“The likelihood of your Black being here is very small. Virtually none,” Voldemort said with a wave of his hand. “Your veil acts as a rip through space and time, yes? Now imagine that after you’ve gone through, you’re just floating around in empty space with infinite places to go. You somehow ended up in my universe when you could have ended up in another just as easily. Your Sirius is most likely in some other universe.”
Harry sank into his seat, a sad expression marring his face. “Oh.” he said in a dejected whisper. Voldemort felt a spike of guilt in his gut at causing the expression.
“I’m sorry precious,” he said gently. “I know you wanted to save him.”
Harry frowned. “Why are you calling me that?” he asked, suddenly stiff.
“What?”
“Precious?” Harry responded. “Why are you calling me that?”
“Did my counterpart not call you that?” Voldemort asked, intrigued.
“What? No!” Harry cried, his face screwing up with revulsion. Voldemort frowned at the strange reaction. “He’d never! Why would you think that?”
“I call Little One all kinds of pet names and terms of endearment,” Voldemort said, lightly running his hands through Little One’s inky black curls. Harry’s eyes widened as they met his counterpart. “But I suppose you’re too old for that now, hmm? I suppose you’ve hit the teenage rebellion and don’t want to spend any time with your father.”
“With my what?!” Harry asked, his voice trembling. “Wait, why do you have baby me? Where’s… Where’s my dad? The house elf said my dad would be here!”
“I am. I’m right here,” Voldemort said, tilting his head at the odd question. “What’s wrong, dear heart?”
“No, no, no, no,” Harry started mumbling, jumping up from his place on the couch. “Wait, are you serious? Oh my god, please tell me you’re joking!”
“About what?” Voldemort asked, leaning forward, carefully so as to not disturb Little One. “Harry are you alright?”
“You’re not joking,” Harry said in an empty tone. “Oh my god. Oh my god. What the fuck?!”
“Harry! Language!” Voldemort scolded, aghast at the crass language. “What’s gotten into you? Didn’t your father teach you not to swear?”
“No! He didn’t!” Harry suddenly shouted, startling Little One. “Because my father is dead! You killed him!”
“What?” Black asked, looking at Harry with shock. “Wait, James is dead in your world, too?”
Oh yes, James Potter. Voldemort had forgotten all about the man. “No, I’m not talking about your birth father, Harry,” Voldemort said calmly. “Though, it is interesting that I’m the one who killed him in your world. I’m talking about your adopted father.”
“My adopted father?” Harry parroted, his eyes wide. “I don’t have one. Wait, did… did you adopt baby me?!”
“Of course I did!” Voldemort said, pulling Little One closer to him. “Little One is my son! Are you telling me that my counterpart did not adopt you?”
Harry laughed bitterly. “He’s too busy trying to kill me.”
Voldemort froze, his fingers twitching. “What?” he said, tone icy and dangerous. He watched as Harry stiffened at the question, his emerald eyes darting between Black and Lupin, silently pleading for help. “What did you just say?”
“The Lord Voldemort of my world has been trying to kill me since I was a baby!” Harry said, his hands clenched into fists at his side. “You killed my mom and dad and then cast the killing curse on me, but it rebounded. That’s why I have this scar,” Harry said, gently touching the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. It was puffy and inflamed, looking like it’d been caused yesterday instead of years earlier. “Ever since then you’ve been hell-bent on killing me! Every year is one assassination attempt after the other!”
“My counterpart didn’t adopt you?” Voldemort asked carefully, intentionally ignoring everything Harry just told him so that he didn’t explode with rage.
“No!”
“He’s been trying to… kill you since you were a baby?” Voldemort continued, grinding his teeth at the very thought.
“That’s what I just said!” Harry cried.
“He tricked you into coming to the Department of Mysteries where you fought for your life and threw yourself through a rip of space and time?” Voldemort asked, ignoring the way both Lupin and Black stared at the pair, their mouths gaping wide with shock.
“Why are you repeating everything I say?!” Harry demanded. “I just told you that!”
“Because it is the most outlandish and ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Voldemort said. “Me? Training to kill you? My son? That doesn’t make any sense! Why on Earth would I ever try to kill a baby?!”
“There was a prophecy, apparently,” Harry said. “That’s why you tricked me into going to the Ministry in the first place.”
“A prophecy?” Voldemort repeated, his eyebrows drawn with confusion. “I remember hearing about a prophecy… I never listened to it. I figured it was just a desperate attempt from the Light to distract me from winning the war.”
“Winning? Wait, you won the war?” Harry cried.
“Did I not win in your world?” Voldemort asked before he paused. “No, I must not have if I listened to the prophecy. What could it have said that would make me try to kill a defenseless baby?!”
“Well… You’re kind of insane in my world,” Harry said, slowly starting to pace the length of Voldemort’s sitting room. “I mean, like really insane. You’re like some crazy, homicidal snake-man.”
“Snake-man?” Black asked with a frown.
“Yeah, you performed a ritual in my Fourth Year,” Harry said, and suddenly his eyes were watering and his voice was choked. Voldemort leaned forward at the overwhelming look of grief in Harry’s eyes. “You, um, you kidnapped me and killed my friend in front of me before you used my blood in a ritual to give you a body. You came out looking like some weird, snake hybrid thing and then forced me to duel you.”
Voldemort suddenly loathed his counterpart for doing that to Harry. Harry who was so much like his son, it physically hurt to see him so distressed. Harry’s hands shook, and tears began to roll down his cheeks. Voldemort ached to comfort him, but he knew that Harry would react badly to it.
After all, he’s never known Voldemort as a father. Only as a crazy man set on killing him.
“Oh Harry,” Black cooed, and suddenly Harry threw himself at Black, burying his face in the front of Black’s robes as he sobbed. Black began to rub comforting circles around his back. “Shh, it’s okay pup. Everything’s okay.”
Voldemort seethed with jealousy at the sight, wanting nothing more than to pull Harry away from Black’s arms and hold him tight. He refrained, albeit difficulty, because he knew it wouldn’t help Harry at all. At the moment, Harry’s happiness and well-being are more important than Voldemort’s possessive desire to hold his son from another world.
“Cedric died and no one would believe me!” Harry wailed, his broken tone causing Voldemort’s chest to clench. “Everyone keeps looking at me like a murderer, and Umbridge keeps giving me detentions and I can’t stop the bleeding for hours afterward and---”
“Why are you bleeding in detention?” Voldemort asked, cutting off Harry's distressed tirade.
Harry sniffled. “She makes me write lines with a weird quill,” Harry said, lifting his hand to display a gruesome scar that Voldemort’s hadn’t seen before. The words, I must not tell lies were etched into the back of his son’s hands, and the sight of it filled Voldemort with murderous rage. “It uses my blood for ink.”
“She’s making you use a blood quill?!” Lupin gasped. “But that’s illegal!”
“She works for the Ministry,” Harry said sadly. “She’s the undersecretary for the Minister.”
“That horrible woman! Torturing my godson!” Black snarled. “I’ll kill her! That---”
“Why haven’t you told anyone?” Voldemort asked, cutting off Black’s angry remarks. “Surely another teacher would put a stop to it.”
“They can’t. Umbridge is threatening their jobs now that Dumbledore’s gone.” Harry said with a sigh. “And even then, I wouldn’t tell anyone. I have to beat her myself, and they wouldn’t listen to me anyway. Everyone thinks I’m a liar.”
“Dumbledore’s gone? He’s not the headmaster anymore?” Black asked. “Merlin, your world is messed up!”
“Yeah, I know,” Harry agreed glumly.
“Why hasn’t your family done something about this?” Voldemort asked through his clenched jaw. “Surely your mom and dad noticed---”
“My mom and dad are dead,” Harry interrupted with a glare. “Remember?”
“Yes, but you must have been adopted afterward, right? What about Black? You said he was your godfather?” Voldemort asked.
“Sirius was framed for their deaths,” Harry said, shaking his head. “He was sentenced to Azkaban.”
“What?!” Black gasped, looking at Harry with shock. “Didn’t I get a trial?”
Harry shook his head. “Nope. Everyone thought you were their Secret Keeper and betrayed them to Voldemort because you were his right hand. You were sentenced to Azkaban for life for being a Death Eater and killing thirteen muggles and Peter Pettigrew.”
“What? But that’s...that’s insane!” Black exclaimed.
“Yeah, I know,” Harry said, patting Black’s arm sympathetically. “I know the truth. Peter Pettigrew was the real Secret Keeper and Death Eater. You went after him and he framed you by blowing up the street, cutting off his finger and turning into a rat to escape.”
“So if you weren’t with Black, who were you with?” Voldemort asked.
“The Dursleys.”
Everyone froze, their eyes widening with horror at the answer Harry had given. Voldemort felt his magic lash out and break something, causing Harry to jump and look at him with shock. Voldemort could feel the rage that bubbled in his gut at the knowledge that Harry was once again left with those abusive monsters!
“You’re staying with those muggle pieces of trash?!” Black cried. Harry frowned.
“What are you---”
“Are they abusive?” Voldemort asked, his voice surprisingly calm, but he knew his rage was not hidden.
Harry froze, his face resembling that of a deer-in-headlights, his eyes wide with shock. “W-What? Why would you ask that?”
“Because they were abusive in this world,” Voldemort said through his grit teeth. “They killed Little One!”
Harry frowned, his eyes glancing down to look at Little One who sat peacefully in Voldemort’s lap, absentmindedly playing with a handful of flowers. Harry’s eyes widened when he caught the stitches on Little One’s neck. “He’s… Baby me is dead?” Harry asked in a hushed whisper.
“Little One is an Inferius,” Voldemort answered. “Do you know what that is?”
“Isn’t it like, um, a magical zombie?” Harry asked, his eyes darting back and forth between Little One and Voldemort.
“Something like that,” Voldemort allowed. “Those muggles killed my son and I brought him back.”
“Wow…” Harry breathed, his eyes wide.
“Are they abusive in your world?” Voldemort repeated, refusing to be distracted. Harry stiffened at the question, eyes darting towards the ground.
“I mean… It’s… Not really, they… It’s not a big deal,” Harry stuttered, his face red. “It’s fine. I can deal with it. Only a couple more years and then I’m gone!”
“It is not fine!” Voldemort shouted, causing Harry to jump. “It is abuse and you shouldn’t have to deal with it!”
“Well it doesn’t matter now, does it?” Harry asked bitterly before he paused, his eyes lighting up. “Can I go back?”
Voldemort froze. “You want to go back?” he asked, eyes wide. Why would Harry want to go back? Back to the abuse? Back to the mad man trying to kill him? Back to the loneliness and fighting?
“That’s my home!” Harry cried. “All of my friends are probably really worried! They think I’m dead!”
“You can’t go back!” Black cried, saying what everyone else was thinking. “Harry that place is hell! Stay here! You’ll be happy here! We can protect you and keep you safe!”
“No! No, I have to go back!” Harry snapped, vehemently shaking his head. “That’s my home! I have responsibilities there! I can’t just forsake everyone and stay here!”
“Isn’t that what you did when you jumped through the veil expecting death?” Lupin asked, causing Harry to freeze.
“That’s… It’s---That’s different!” Harry cried, shaking his head.
“I don’t know if we can send you back,” Voldemort said, interrupting the tense argument. “We have a veil here, as well, but sending you through could just as easily send you to an even worse world than the one you live in. Why not stay here with us? As Black said, we can keep you safe. You’ll be loved and happy here.”
“Can’t you figure out a way?!” Harry demanded. “You’re Lord Voldemort!”
“While your faith in me is humbling,” Voldemort said with a drawl. “To send you back to your world would take time. We’d need to study the veil and see how it works. Find out if it’s even possible to send you back.”
“So do it!” Harry cried. “Please! I… I want to go home!”
Voldemort's face softened. “Okay precious,” he said, ignoring Harry’s uncomfortable twitch at the endearment. “We’ll try. But it will take time. Why not stay here with us while we try to figure it out?”
Harry shifted, his face drawn up in consideration. “You won’t… You won’t try and hurt me?” he asked carefully. Voldemort shook his head, angry at the thought.
“No. Never.” he promised.
“Okay… I’ll stay,” Harry said, and Voldemort could feel the triumph surge through him. “Just until you figure out how to send me home, then I’m leaving!”
“Of course Harry,” Voldemort said, smirking victoriously. He would do as Harry said, and he would try to find a solution to their little problem, but he didn’t say he would tell Harry immediately. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
No, he wouldn’t lie to his new son. Of course not! He’d try and figure out a way to send Harry home, just as he promised. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try and convince Harry to stay with them as he did it.
Who knew how long it’d take to find a way to send him home? Maybe Harry would be stuck here for the next few years?
Voldemort smirked as he held out his hand for Harry to take. Harry eyed it suspiciously for a second before he accepted it, and Voldemort stood, adjusting his hold on Little One so that he now sat on Voldemort’s hip, one hand holding on to Harry and the other keeping a careful grip on Little One. Little One would have an older brother and Voldemort would have another son.
Oh, how Fate smiled upon Lord Voldemort.