Fate's Chosen
-December 8, 1991-
Voldemort couldn’t let Little One go, would never let his son go again if he had anything to say about it. He held Little One in a suffocating hold, the heavy weight in his arms reminding Voldemort that his baby was, in fact, alive. His fingers trembled as they carded through Little One’s filthy hair, and every few seconds, Voldemort would press kisses to his face, his head, his arms, anywhere he could, constantly reassuring himself of Little One’s safety.
“How is this possible?” he found himself asking, his magic instinctively searching for the tether that locked Little One and himself together. “I can’t feel him…”
He looked up to see Grindelwald still standing in the entrance hall, a peculiar expression on his face. “You really care about him, don’t you?” he asked, almost in awe.
Voldemort scowled. “He’s my son,” he said coldly, regaining his composure. He slowly stood, his arms still wrapped around Little One in a death-like grip. Little One nuzzled into the divot of Voldemort’s collar, and the gesture filled him with warmth. It was a familiar feeling, something that Little One did whenever he was feeling stressed out or tired. It was something Voldemort never thought he’d feel again. “He’s my son,” he repeated. “Of course I care about him. I love him.”
Grindelwald nodded curtly. “‘M sorry about what he did.”
Voldemort’s lips pursed. “Doesn’t matter,” he replied coolly. “He’s dead now.”
If Grindelwald was surprised, he didn’t show it. Voldemort had heard the rumors in his youth about the failed Dark Lord and Albus Dumbledore. There was no weight to the rumors, and nothing had ever been proven, so Voldemort had always dismissed them as nothing more than senseless gossip. However, looking at the small glint of grief in Grindelwald’s eyes, Voldemort wondered if the rumors were true, and Dumbledore and Grindelwald really had been involved.
Grindelwald shuddered. “Why’s it so cold here?”
“That would be me,” Death said, still staring at Voldemort and Little One in awe. Though Grindelwald couldn’t see or hear Death, he shivered anyway. “How can this be?” he whispered, slowly stepping towards them. “He… he was gone… I couldn’t find his presence anywhere.”
“I can’t feel the tether,” Voldemort said, addressing both men. “I thought he… I thought the fire…”
“You were the one who made him, right?” Grindelwald asked. Voldemort nodded silently. “He’s really well-made. You are quite powerful, I suppose that’s expected, though, being the great Lord Voldemort.”
Voldemort bristled at the tone. “Explain what you’re doing with my son and Draco Malfoy,” he demanded. “Now.”
Grindelwald glanced down at the unconscious boy. “Oh, is that who this is?” he asked. “I was wondering about that.”
“Tell me what happened,” Voldemort said tersely. “They need to go to the hospital wing. You have until we reach there to explain everything.”
“Very well,” Grindelwald said with a sigh. “Albus brought Harry to my prison cell four days ago. He was raving, he was, talking about defeating you and returning peace. Harry was devolving quickly, though. I tried to help him but I had magic-canceling cuffs on---”
“His name is Little One,” Voldemort snapped. “Do call him that.”
“Little One, then,” Grindelwald said, his face scrunching up with distaste. “When was he supposed to be revitalized?”
“I try to perform the ritual on the Solstice each year,” Voldemort said. “The stress and prolonged absence from my magical signature triggered his devolution.”
“I figured as much,” Grindelwald conceded. “He was almost gone. I gave it another day before he was feral.” Voldemort’s grip on his son tightened, his chest clenching at the thought. “Albus said he was going to fight you, said he needed someone to watch us while he did it.”
“Watch you?” Voldemort asked, whipping around to look at him. “Who?”
“Dunno her name,” Grindelwald shrugged. “Psycho bitch, though.” Voldemort frowned at the crass language. “She showed up in the morning…”
-12 hours earlier-
Gellert stared at the Inferius in the corner with sad eyes. Harry was pawing at the stitches on his neck anxiously, soft growls escaping his lips every now and then before he would shiver and fall silent, only for the cycle to repeat moments later. The child was practically gone now. It was heartbreaking, and Gellert once again found himself cursing Albus’ name.
“It’s okay, Harry,” Gellert soothed, wishing that the cuffs would break so that he could help the child. Despite his reputation, Gellert always had a soft spot for kids. He always wanted a family of his own, and he had considered Creedence his son before everything got all messed up and twisted. “Everything will be fine.”
It wouldn’t, but Gellert wasn’t going to tell him that.
Gellert’s comforting words were interrupted, however, by the sound of heels clicking against the stone. He frowned, eyes glancing back towards the cell door. He waited a few more seconds before a woman came into view. She was wearing a hideously pink dress, her hat and shoes both color coordinated. She smiled at them, but the smile was so fake and condescending, Gellert instantly felt like punching her.
“Hem, hem,” she said in a sickly sweet voice. “I see you are the prisoners I’m watching.”
“Albus send you?” Gellert asked, taking in her plump form and strange resemblance to a toad.
“Of course,” she said, her voice high and full of self-importance. “Dumbledore realized that I am an incredibly powerful woman, capable of working her way to the top.”
“Uh-huh,” Gellert deadpanned.
“As soon as the Dark Lord is defeated, I shall become the new Minister,” she continued, either not noticing Gellert’s sarcasm, or not caring enough to comment. “With me in charge, England will grow incredibly powerful. I will get rid of the disgusting half-breeds and mudbloods, and once England is clean, we can begin cleansing the rest of the world!”
Gellert stared at her for a moment, trying to gauge how serious she was. When he saw no change in her expression, he forced himself not to let out a sigh. She really was nuts, wasn’t she?
Out of the corner of his eye, Gellert could see Harry rock faster. He frowned, quickly glancing at the Inferius trying to self-soothe, and longed to comfort him. When he looked back at the lady, her eyes were narrowed dangerously on Harry.
“What’s the matter with him?” she demanded in a snippy voice.
“He’s not supposed to be here,” Gellert tried. “You need to let him go.”
“I’ll do no such thing!” she cried, sticking her nose up. “He’s here for a reason, I’m sure, and you can’t trick me!”
Gellert bit back a growl. “He’s just a kid,” he tried again. “I’m the one you’re supposed to be guarding!”
“Dumbledore said---”
“Albus did it to trick you, not me!” Gellert said, fighting back a victorious smirk when she paused.
“Trick me?”
“Yes! It’s, ah, it’s to see if you’re a good fit for the Minister position,” Gellert said, leaning forward. “A good Minister needs to be powerful, but also kind. Children are the future, and all that.”
She paused, her hideous face crinkling as she considered Gellert’s words. “The future, you say?” she asked. Gellert nodded, glancing back at Harry once more. By now, Harry’s mad rocking had stopped, which Gellert considered a win, even if he continued to pick at his stitches. “Hmm… A tricky test. I would never have thought of it.”
“Yes, Albus is tricky like that,” Gellert agreed.
“Very well,” she nodded, reaching into her dress pocket to pull out a ring of keys. “I will complete the test and prove to him that I truly am the perfect option.”
“Wonderful,” Gellert said, a terribly fake smile on his face.
Gellert watched with hopeful eyes as the crazy woman unlocked the cell door and stepped towards Harry’s huddled figure. She approached him, a sickening grin on her face, one that was obviously meant to be comforting, but it came off as patronizing. “Come along, dear,” she cooed. Gellert fought back the urge to vomit. “Let’s get you home, hmm?”
Just as she leaned down to unlock the cuffs, Gellert realized his mistake. Despite his well-made appearance, Harry was still an Inferius, one steadily devolving to it’s feral state. Being approached by a stranger was a threat, especially to him. Gellert realized this a second too late, as Harry tensed for a brief second, before lunging for an attack.
“Gah!” the woman cried, flinching back. “Monster!” she screeched. “Filth! Disgusting half-breed!”
“He was just frightened---”
She whirled around to face Gellert, a furious expression on her face. “You!” she cried. “You tried to trick me! How dare you! You’ll pay for that!”
“It was an accident,” Gellert said placatingly. “He was just scared.”
“It’s a monster!” she snarled. “It’s unnatural! It needs to burn!”
Gellert froze. “Wait, you’re wrong! This was all a misunderstanding---”
“I’m going to change, these clothes are too pretty to be ruined by your ashes,” she snapped. “When I get back, the two of you will burn for daring to exist!”
With that, the woman spun on her heel and marched out of the cell, and in her anger, she merely slammed the door shut, forgetting to lock it. Gellert stared at the Inferius hopelessly. He knew there was no way to get out of the cuffs, but Harry wasn’t locked down by anything.
“Harry!” Gellert cried. Harry flinched but didn’t look at him. “Harry! Harry listen to me, you need to run now!”
Harry just growled, and Gellert’s heart dropped to his feet. That woman had clearly sped up the process, as he was now minutes away from becoming feral. Gellert wrenched his arm, attempting to break out of the chains holding him, but to no avail.
A loud pop startled Gellert, though, just as he was about to give up hope.
“---lady! I thought you were bringing me to Little One!”
A young boy with platinum blonde hair and Hogwarts robes stood in the center of the cell. He paused, his eyes widening as he took in his surroundings. His eyes narrowed on Gellert for a moment before he heard Harry’s shuffling behind him. He spun around and let out a cry.
“Little One!” he yelled, running forward.
“Stop!” Gellert cried just in time to stop the boy from touching him. “He’s devolving. It’s not safe to be around him right now!”
“Wait? Like, he needs magic now?” he asked. “We have to get him back to the Dark Lord!”
“There’s no time! He’s minutes away!” Gellert exclaimed. “Not to mention, a psycho who’ll be here any minute to burn us! Quick, boy, get these damn cuffs off me!”
He hesitated for a moment, but his desire to save the Inferius won out in the end. He rushed over, tugging on the manacles encircling his wrists for a moment before he pulled out his wand. “Alohamora.” he said. Gellert raised an eyebrow at the First-Year spell, but to his surprise, it actually worked.
To feel his magic rushing through his veins again after countless years in the magic-canceling cuffs was nothing short of euphoric. Gellert let out a pleased sigh, noting with displeasure that his magic levels were still remarkably low from all the years of blockage.
“Can you help him?” the boy pleaded.
Gellert frowned, trying to summon up enough magic to revitalize the Inferius in front of him. “I… I don’t have enough---”
“Then what use are you?!” the boy exploded. “Get us out of here! We need to help him!”
“There’s no time!” Gellert snapped. “We need to leave, but if we go near him, he might snap!”
“Then tell me what to do!” he replied. “I can perform the ritual!”
“Don’t be stupid, boy! That’ll kill you!” Gellert scoffed.
“I can do it!” the boy replied. “I can! Just tell me what to do!”
“Oh, what the hell, we’re going to die anyway,” Gellert muttered to himself before he addressed the boy. “Let your magic reach out to him. Do you feel him?” when the boy nodded, Gellert continued. “Alright, force yourself to make contact. Forge a link with him. Do you feel it?”
“I feel it!” he cried.
“Good. There’s a tether now, do you understand?” Geller asked, and he nodded once more. “Pour you magic through the tether. Think about how much you want him to have the magic.”
“It’s working!” the boy cried, a relieved smile breaking across his face. “I can feel it! He’s getting better!”
“Careful, boy!” Gellert snapped when he saw the boy begin to sway. “If you give too much, you’ll die! Let go of the tether now!”
Gellert watched as the boy let out a harsh gasp of air before he dropped to the ground. Gellert cursed, diving forward to grab him. “Damn boy, he’s out cold,” Gellert muttered. It seems like he gave too much magic to the Inferius and was now completely unconscious. On the bright side, the Inferius no longer looked like he was going feral.
As Gellert looked over Harry, he could see new intelligence in the bright green eyes that he hadn’t seen before. Harry looked around, clearly confused, but took a small step forward when he saw the unconscious boy in Gellert’s arms. “Harry, right?” Gellert asked, holding out a hand to him. “Come on, boy, we need to get out of here before---”
“FILTH!”
“---she comes back,” Gellert sighed, looking to his left to see the woman standing in the door. “Hello again.”
“How did you get free? Who is that other boy?” she demanded before she shook her head. “No matter. Prepare to burn!”
“No---”
Gellert flinched back when the woman cast fiendfyre. It was clear that she was not expecting the spell to be so powerful, as she was thrown back herself. The flame burst out of her wand with a hungry desire to destroy, and Gellert barely had enough time to grab the Inferius in his hands and fall to the floor to avoid the flame.
The fire shot over his head, surrounding the cell in dangerous flames. Gellert coughed as the smoke grew thick, and with all his strength, searched deep inside his core for enough magical power to apparate the three of them out of the cell.
The last thing he heard before the apparated away was the woman's crazed screeching as her own spell burned her alive.
“After I apparated away,” Gellert continued, watching as the Dark Lord placed the Inferius on the medical cot, a possessive grip on his hand. “I realized that most of the baby’s clothes burned away. I transfigured a blanket out of that Draco kid’s extra robe and apparated to Hogsmeade. From there, Draco gave me directions to your castle.”
“I am indebted to you,” Voldemort said softly, his gaze not leaving his son’s peaceful expression. “You saved my son. You didn’t have to do that, and for that I am grateful.”
“All I ask in return is immunity,” Gellert said. “I want to leave the country. Go somewhere new.”
Voldemort hummed. “Do you swear to never attack England?”
“I do.”
“Then you are free to leave,” Voldemort said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I never want you to set foot in England again, do you understand.”
“I do,” Gellert nodded. “Best of luck to you and your kid.” With one final nod, Gellert apparated away, leaving Voldemort alone with two unconscious children and death.
“How did Draco show up there?” Voldemort wondered aloud.
“I might have a few theories,” Death mumbled, leaning forward to wrap an arm around Voldemort’s shoulder. “But I think they can wait. Let’s just take a moment to breathe.”
“He’s alive,” Voldemort whispered again, tenderly brushing Little One’s hair. “He’s alive.”
“Everything is okay now.”