Harry Potter in Wicked
A/N: This is basically a Harry Potter version of Wicked [the musical, not the book], with Voldemort replacing Elphaba and Lucius replacing Galinda/Glinda. This fic will follow the life of Voldemort, from his birth, through his early childhood and Hogwarts years and adulthood, and end with his death. I'm not yet quite sure how the rest of the characters in Wicked will be represented, but I'll make it work somehow xD.
That being said, this fic will be somewhat AU, but will follow canon when necessary. Bear with me, it'll all make sense in the end =]
**This fic is a complete re-write of a story I started almost two years ago. I got pretty far into the story, but got lazy after a while and chose not to upload the rest. So I decided to just start over. Hopefully this one will turn out better than the original.**
Enjoy, and don't forget to REVIEW!!!!
Chapter 1: No One Mourns the Wicked
"He's dead!"
"Potter has just killed You-Know-Who!"
"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone!"
The Great Hall of Hogwarts Castle was abuzz with excitement, for the day many had feared would never come had arrived at last: Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, had done what countless grown wizards before him had failed to do. Harry Potter had slain the Dark Lord. Voldemort was dead, and the reign of terror inflicted on the Wizarding world for nearly three decades had finally come to an end.
"You know," said a voice in the midst of the celebration. A nearby crowd of people, most of whom were intent on wringing Harry's hand, looked toward the newcomer. The stranger turned around, and they saw, with a jolt of revulsion, that it was none other than Lucius Malfoy, who was, until recently, one of Voldemort's most loyal Death Eaters. "The Dark Lord was not always as evil as people made him out to be."
This bold statement had all of those present, including Harry, transfixed. Of course Voldemort had been evil; he had been the worst, most unscrupulous Dark wizard in a hundred years! But Lucius had, after all, known Voldemort fairly well, or about as well as anyone had ever known the mysterious and unsociable wizard.
"Yes, back in his Hogwarts days, the Dark Lord was the model student," Malfoy continued. "Prefect, Head Boy, winner of the award for Special Services to the School. He was damn near the best student this school has ever seen, as well as an exceptionally talented young wizard. The only reason he became involved in the Dark Arts was because his fellow students mistook his academic and magical aptitude for Dark magic, and the Dark Lord, fed up with these ludicrous accusations, decided to live up to his reputation."
The onlookers gazed at Malfoy with wary eyes. If You-Know-Who had been such a model student and able wizard, then why on earth had he been knocked off his high horse by a few of his jealous classmates that clearly wanted some glory and recognition for themselves?
"Of course," added Malfoy, "The Dark Lord did not have the best of upbringings…"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"He looks just like his Papa. Thank God."
Merope Gaunt looked down at her newborn son for the first time, extremely grateful that her son had inherited his father's good looks, as opposed to her, ah, not so good looks. At least one of us can be good looking, Merope thought to herself. She had curly, brown, shoulder length hair, which seemed to be perpetually frizzy no matter what she did with it, dull gray eyes, a rather large, hooked nose, and was almost frighteningly thin, as though she had not seen a decent meal in weeks. The baby, meanwhile, was the diminutive version of his very handsome father: short, straight, jet-black hair, black eyes, a straight, high-placed nose, and a small mouth.
"Awww, look at him!"
"He's the cutest baby I've ever seen!"
Merope looked around. Several of the orphanage aides had entered the room, accompanied by the orphanage nurse. The aides crowded around the bed, all trying to catch a glimpse of the adorable newborn.
"All right, that's enough. This girl has just given birth barely twenty minutes ago, she needs her rest," the nurse reprimanded. The aides exited the room, looking slightly crestfallen.
"Here," said the nurse, handing Merope a blanket for the baby and placing extra blankets upon the bed. "By the way," she went on, "you still haven't named your son."
Merope looked down at the baby boy, now asleep in her arms. "He looks just like his father," she said, almost to herself. "I'll name him Tom, after his father," she told the nurse. "And Marvolo, after mine. And Riddle will be his surname. Tom Marvolo Riddle."
The nurse smiled and left the room, closing the door behind her. Merope closed her eyes, exhausted. Giving birth really takes a lot out of you, she thought. She immediately regretted naming Tom after his father and grandfather, the two bastards she hated the most. She hated Marvolo for physically and mentally abusing her for the last eighteen years and making her feel like less than a human being. She hated Tom because he had left her, despite them having a child together… Tom had left her…
Tears rolled down Merope's face. The thought of Tom leaving her, of losing her one true love, was almost as unbearable as actually losing him had been.
It was too much for Merope. She rolled over in her bed and died, died crying for her lost love, with her beautiful newborn baby boy in her arms.
A/N: Hoped you liked my little intro! Sorry it was a bit short, the next chapters won't be! It should be a great story, and it won't be done any time soon. Don't forget to review!!