Machiavellian Martyr Chapter 1: Godzilla in the Gorilla suit, a harry potter fanfic

Warnings: Language, violence and megalomania.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me along with some theories, some occasional sprinkles of modern knowledge and entertainment, i.e. songs, references and theories.

This work is purely fiction. None of the characters or events are real, the plot and its original characters, along with any kind of work (Art work – unless mentioned) belongs to me. Any attempts at illegal publication for profit, plagiarism or attempts of it will be dealt accordingly. This work is only posted on ffnet. (Unless mentioned specifically by me.)

Points to note (A/N) – This story will mostly focus on the rise of the protagonist. Harriet, or the OC occupying her, will be mainly focused on becoming powerful and learning more about the wizarding world. Keep in mind that as a twenty something old in a body of a child, will not be mostly focused on romance – It's basically like a self-insert, because to be honest if I were to be reborn in Harry potter, my focus would be on the magic. Plot be damned.

There will be some romance later on, like full raging romance, but at the beginning it will mostly be high school crushes. My attempts will mostly be focused on how to keep everyone in character and be realistic. True to my personality, the OC! Fem! Harry will be a megalomaniac who is kind of like Tom riddle (Not Voldemort) but instead has a lust for power. Not power in society, but magical power.

See, this OC is not going to be a good person. She is greedy, power thirsty, manipulative, cold, callous, sly and full of debauchery. She will always put herself first, hence the use of the ironic name – Machiavellian Martyr.

So basically this story will follow the tale of a power-thirsty OC who dabbles in all kind of magic, goes from weak to strong, does a bit of face slapping, fights death and its ugly serpentine form and finds romance. Maybe a bit of angst and teenage drama. Kind of like mind fucking the old mentality of the wizarding world with dominating female power, if you wish.

Oh, and not to forget - a strong attitude.

Another thing to add, my style keeps changing from POV's to drabble and then dialogue. It's kind of messy, and im working on it, so yeah. Sorry for the upcoming headaches. But, let's not be hasty, eh? Reviews from all and the mythical ghost readers are appreciated. Let's dive into it. (For some fucking reason mysapce isnt working, so the weird dots. Don't worry Im working on that too.

Being reborn in the body of Harry Potter, female or not, wasn't her ideal plan for afterlife. Magic, on the other hand was something a Machiavellian megalomaniac like herself could appreciate. Wizarding world better watch out, because whether her plan or not - Harriet James Potter doesn't lose, and fuck anyone who say's otherwise.

Semi-SI!Reborn!OC!Fem!Harry Potter

Prologue: Godzilla in the gorilla suit.

There are three kinds of intelligence: one kind understands things for itself, the other appreciates what others can understand, the third understands neither for itself nor through others. This first kind is excellent, the second good, and the third kind useless.

- Niccolo Machiavelli.

"Sometimes, I just look deep into the mirror on my bathroom wall, trying to see who really I am. When I look deep into my eyes, it stares back at me – the hunger for power and dominance."

"It's not the fact that I have darker aspects that scare me, no. It's the fact that I long to never forget these emotions that scare me. I don't ever wanna be something other than a megalomaniac, the thought of forgiving myself scares me. It isn't narcissism, not one bit and that is what scares me the most."

"I am -"

"-!"

"-! Get off that bloody laptop, stop writing those stories of yours and help your -, will you?"

I was exactly three and a half month's old when I realized who exactly I am. The name 'Potter' or the obvious magic around me didn't reveal that truth, it was something inside me that did. It pulsed under my skin like a warm current of pure electricity – I would know, I died of its overdose. It thrummed inside of me like a living blanket of power – constant and thick. Pulsing and warm.

It was magic, that made me realize what situation I was in.

One moment baby Harriet James Belladonna Lily Potter was drooling all over her favorite blue blanket, eyes sharp and wise then the next moment the same prodigious, sly, aloof baby was laughing like a witch she was. Mother Potter was gushing at the first laugh of her powerful, aloof daughter and Daddy Potter indulged in the whimsy, cutsey, childish naïveté of her way too serious daughter and tickled her.

Baby Potter, or more like Adult-Baby Potter, on the other hand was trying not to burst with excitement. Her head going on thousand miles a minute, thinking of ways she could learn all that powerful, foreign¸ magical spells she knew that existed. The dark, the light, the grey – she was ready to learn them all. The power that could, no, would be hers made her baby mind explode with glee as sparkles burst from her fingers.

That was till reality sucker punched me and then proceeded to bitch slap me.

HateHateHate and AngerAngerAnger flooded her system – her magic lashing, thick and ominous – bursting bulbs, cracking mirrors, scaring the shit out of her parents. She was going to be the sacrificing goat of the wizarding world, her parents would be dead and she would be manipulated by an old coot. A megalomaniac would kill her parents and proceed to soul fuck her.

If there was something I hated more than being weak, it was being used. I loathed the thought of bending herself for anyone – I hated it. I am massive control freak and proud to admit it too.

So little baby got thinking, desperate to do something. She might be slow, but not stupid – there was no way she could stop the arrival of Voldemort. She was a baby who had already raised dark flags for showing unnatural amount of intelligence and magic, showing her memories would be suicide and hell as if she was going to let that happen.

She loved the potter's, really. But it was her or them, and she loved herself too much to let go. It wasn't that she wouldn't try to stop their death, oh no, in fact the next left months she practiced with her magic so much, she almost died by raining glass. But if it didn't work, she would always come first.

Yeah, she knew something wasn't right with her head, but that's fine. She would never want to be anyone but herself.

Meanwhile, adult-baby potter became more demanding than ever – she demanded hugs, kisses and cuddles like nobody's business. Papa James, Momma Lily and the rest graciously gave into the demands of the bossy, aloof toddler. Sirius even called her Miss. Potter Lordess, which she liked. Remus chuckled tiredly and gave in. Peter? Peter was her ultimate favorite – she would coo nonsense at him, fawn in his presence and positively light up with malice every time he winced.

Good, he should be uncomfortable. Maybe she should accidently kill him? No that would change the plot. That will lead her to lose her knowledge of future and that was positively not happening. Her knowledge will have her dominating the fields, because just barley winning is overrated.

Oh, and there was the time she looked in the mirror. Two slanted, flinty eyes – one viridian green, another smoky grey. Her little tuffs curly mass of inky black. Promptly, she burst out laughing. Even in another form, her Hetrochromia never left her. Along with the freckles, now if only she had her tattoos and some bloody whiskey. Oh wait, current age: eighteen months in the world of living. Too bad, so sad. Hell, for a while she even entertained the idea of losing her knowledge. For a moment.

Then, on one accursed 31'st of July, he came.

It had been a lax day – Lily reading her the history of gremlins, when James screamed and Lily ran. For a moment, her baby instincts won over her, and she wailed crying like a babe she should have been, sobbing her little heart out at the iconic speech of Lily. At that moment, there was just a baby, a baby who knew something was wrong and her mum was in danger.

Then her eyes met redredred eyes.

The wailing stopped, the horror filled eyes melted into a flinty look of cold apathy, eyes of a jury – an executioner contemplating worth of a lowly prisoner. 'This is the way I will end up if I forsake whatever left of my humanity.' Was what went through my head. Not rage, not awe, not fury. Little Adult me stared at him like a bug under a microscope.

His face, if you could call it that, was frozen – still. His eyes intense and slightly wide, as if in a trance. His face? Face was courted into an ugly expression of fury, hatred, fear and disgustingly enough – a bit of lust and awe. Which I could understand was for my magic, unless the serpentine monstrosity was a pedophile, in which case – fuck the plot. This fucker is going down.

He- no, It snapped out of it, face a snarl of fury. It hissed venomously, fangs bared and poised to kill, "Harriet Potter… such a potent magic…. Yes, I cannot allow you to live. You are too much of a liability." Its curses were soft, whispery yet deadly. Raising its gaunt hand, it caressed my face gently – like an artist marveling a lovely shade of paint. She had promptly raised a chubby hand and swatted the offending limb away – harsh and harsher eyes focused.

"Yes… too bad, child." A demonic smile slipped on its face, insanity and power lust misting the red eyes. Wand ready, it prepared the curse, as I prepared to see the love lily had for me.

A green light, a high pitched wail of death, a flash and pain.

Her forehead had positively burned as the intruder tried to leach into her magic core. Harriet rose, war cry rang in her domain as the leech was promptly pushed out – the force so violent, and she felt as if her head might explode. A wail left her mouth, her form tumbled down, crawling towards her dead mother. 'Rest in peace, Lily.'

Yes, she choose herself. But sometimes, sometimes she just wished, wished that she was normal. That she could feel the horror, the guilt – but no, there was only grim acceptance and respect for the woman who would love a life so much. She gave into her body's demand and crawled into her mother – the first one from both lives.

Maybe because of her status as a former orphan, and current orphan might explain her behavior. But really, it was just how she was – cruel, selfish, flinty, power hungry, self-centered and sometimes, sometimes it was a bit lonely. But she was used to that loneliness and pain was a reminder of what waited those without power. It was you, or them. And she would always, always be herself. And here she was surrounded by sharks and wolves.

And here she was Godzilla in the suit of a gorilla.

"And then I would realize, that it wasn't me staring into the eyes of my darkness."

"It was my darkness staring at the light wisps around it, wondering the allure of the light. As you see, light shows you – it makes you glow. But Dark? Dark hides you. Dark soothes you."

"So you see, the rules of the game of power is simple. No matter how dark you are – never give up the allure of whatever wisps you have. If you do, the game isn't of power anymore, as you are no longer a competitor. You are no longer alive."

A/N – Sorry, had a bit of problems in editing, also this is the shortest chapter in this book (as it is the insight of what's about to come.) So as you may have realized, this story is going to be heavy. It plays with morals and moral high ground itself – this is the story of a game and all you have to do is maintain both aspects – no matter how slight.

Honestly, something tells me this is going to get a hell complicated, but I just had to write it down. It just won't go away. So, yeah. Thoughts?

Question: Who do you think goes good with the oc? Which male/female would be a good romantic interest? So far I have considered Tom, Draco, Lucius, Snape (like by a very little margin) Pansy, Hermione, and maybe, maybe George.

Whosoever desires constant success must change his conduct with the times.

- Niccolo Machiavelli.