Disclaimer: I do not own any of the universes to be presented herein. All are property of their respective creators/rights holders with the possible exception of the occasional OC. Those are usually my children. Or those of my betas and friends. (Brain children of course)

Author's Introduction: Everyone always writes fics with Harry dieing and being given a second chance, Harry accidentally going back in time, Harry losing everything and killing himself to go back, etc, etc. But has anyone ever wondered just what would happen if the situation was reversed? If it were Harry who were winning the war, and Voldemort who desperately tried to go back, just what would the consequences be? Especially, if Harry caught wind he was up to something, and got dragged back as well. Welcome, to Riddle's Gambit. Not all gambles turn out good for the one making them.

Riddle's Gambit

or

Why Harry Potter REALLY Hates Tom Marvolo Riddle's Guts


December 21st, 2009, Winter Solstice

Harry Potter was not in a good mood. He had been happily on his way to Australia to spend Christmas with one Luna Lovegood hunting 'imaginary' creatures and having a gay old time (Read: shagging Ms. Lovegood's brains out) when his most senior elite Auror contacted him to inform him that the Dork Lord Voldemort had finally surfaced again.

It's about damn time, but did he have to do it just when I was about to get some nookie? That bastard has the worst timing ever!

Harry was currently flying on his Starbolt racing broom, speeding through Wiltshire county in England in a breakneck race to Stonehenge.

Rituals. Why does that bastard always have to use rituals? He knows we always catch him before he can do anything with them. The last time he successfully completed one was when he resurrected himself using my blood. Since then I've kicked his ass at every turn. Why doesn't the bastard just give up?

Harry had been lucky since that disastrous night Cedric had died. He had resolved to never lose in the war against Voldemort again, and he had kept that vow. He had trained, and trained, and trained some more until no one, not even Dumbledore, could stand against him. And what did he do with all this power?

Kick butt, take names, and get laid.

Hell, the only reason he hadn't just completely wiped Voldemort out already was because the snake WAS good at hiding. That and the continuing fame Harry was receiving had the side benefit of getting him laid with extreme regularity.

As Stonehenge came into view Harry frowned and urged a little more speed out of his broom.

Bloody hell.

Floating in the air above Stonehenge was a swirling black portal. Harry couldn't tell what its purpose was, but he could tell it wasn't good. It radiated more energy than he had ever felt before in his life and from the way the nearby plant life was dieing it was probably draining the energy from the land itself.

What the hell is that?!

Standing in the center of Stonehenge, energies swirling around him as he waved his wand as if directing this symphony of chaos, was Voldemort. Of course, he looked very little like the commanding figure Harry had faced in the graveyard of Little Hangleton and defeated again in the Department of Mysteries a year later. The years that had been so kind to Harry had been the exact opposite to Voldemort. The once proud Dark Lord now wore battered, patch-work robes. His face was crisscrossed by a pattern of scars, visible reminders of his past clashes with Harry. His eyes glowed red inside their sockets, his face gaunt and snakelike.

As Harry dropped lower to avoid the swirling vortex he drew his wand and brought Voldemort into his sights. But sadly, just as he was about to launch a sectumsempra to disrupt Voldemort's casting the patchwork-robed figure spun and shot a wide-eyed look towards Harry. Despite the distance between them Harry could still read Voldemort's lips just before the figure blurred into a black cloud and shot up into the air and into the swirling vortex.

Not this time, Potter.

If Harry had been anyone else he would have hesitated as he saw the swirling vortex of darkness swallow Voldemort up, that hesitation costing the human race everything. But he wasn't. He was Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Chosen-One, He-Whose-Name-Must-Always-Be-Hyphenated. When it came to Voldemort he had learned long ago to never hesitate and things would work out. So he leaned forward and gunned his broom, pushing it as hard as he could as he swept towards the rapidly closing vortex. Somehow he just knew that if he didn't follow Voldemort everything was doomed. Pulsing swirling vortexes of dark light are never a good thing after all.

Curving up and shooting into the opening he was surprised to find himself in a spiraling chaotic tunnel, dark lightning blasting around at random and making it tough for Harry to follow the already distant blur that was Voldemort. But press on he did, driving forward with everything he had. Even as he did he could feel the near misses from lightning causing the hair on his arms and the back of his neck to rise, a tingling sensation flowing along his skin.

After a few minutes, just as Harry was catching up to Voldemort, the end of the tunnel suddenly came into view, a darkly spinning vortex leading out to a dark field of grass and weeds. Harry had no idea where this portal was leading, but he had the sinking suspicion that if he didn't stop Voldemort before he reached the end of the tunnel all was lost. Narrowing his eyes he drew his wand and focused as much magic as he could into it.

One chance. I've got one chance at this.

Unbidden the images of three women appeared before his eyes, the smiling faces of Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and Gabrielle Delacour. The three women who made his life worth living. Instinct took over as he felt happiness well up within him.

For them, I will ensure that this time is the last time Voldemort tries anything.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!!"

With a loud cry Harry let loose with one singular spell. The irony that this spell would be what finished Voldemort was certainly not lost on The-Boy-Who-Lived as he and Voldemort's collapsing form came roaring out of the vortex, Harry slowing his descent to land lightly while Voldemort crashed into the ground. As Harry landed lightly, his wand still aimed at Voldemort's head, the dying Dark Lord coughed and looked up at Harry with cold eyes.

"Well, Potter, it appears that you have finally won. But it is I who will have the last laugh. For while you may have stopped me *cough* I will ensure that you never rise to the power you have. You may have won this battle, but I shall win the war."

With his last breath Voldemort suddenly raised his wand and soundlessly cast a spell. An orb of sickly red light shot forth and Harry dodged to the side, only to find that Voldemort had not been aiming at him at all. Instead, the blast shot off into the sky, curving to the east from where he lay on the ground.

"Go, Harry Potter. Just try to stop my revenge. *cough* I will have my revenge, and your world shall fa-" Voldemort's voice failed in mid-sentence as he collapsed to the ground, dead.

Harry was already in the air, chasing after the spell on his broom. Thus he was not present to witness as Voldemort's body dissolved into dark sickly green energy and dissipated in a flash, a dark wind flowing forth from the ring of stones that was Stonehenge.

Meanwhile Harry frantically chased the glowing red spell, trying everything he could to stop it. Everything from shields cast before it to objects conjured in its path to counterspells, nothing worked. He was beginning to get desperate as the terrain was beginning to look familiar.

Wait, wasn't that church destroyed during the war...? Harry wondered as he shot past an old church. And that bridge. I know that bridge was destroyed last year during Voldemort's last uprising. What the hell is going on?

When the spell suddenly changed direction and shot towards the ground Harry banked and shot after it, his desperation growing. Whatever the spells target, its sudden change of vector was surely a sign it was homing in on it. As Harry followed its trajectory towards the ground his eyes widened in shock.

That's...Oh my god!

Without even thinking Harry pushed forward, his last thought as she dove into the beam of red light and absorbed it into his own body an apology to those he loved.

Luna, Ginny, Gabrielle, I'm sorry. I won't be there for Christmas this year.

With a burst of red energy Harry Potter fell from the sky, crashing into the front yard of Number Four Privet Drive. His dead and broken body lay bleeding on the perfectly trimmed grass, but the incident went completely unnoticed by the residents of Privet Drive.

In the darkened house of Number Four Privet Drive, in the cupboard under the stairs, Harry James Potter, age six, sat up with a start. He was sweating and breathing heavily, memories of darkness and red light swirling hazily as he fought to figure out where he was. When he finally noticed the faint moonlight leaking under the edge of the door and his memories resolved themselves he groaned. Waving his hand before him there was a faint click and the door of the cupboard swung open.

Silent as a mouse Harry James Potter crept out of the cupboard and made his way towards the front door. Waving his hand before him once more all sound seemed to disappear. Taking a hold of the doorknob he turned the lock and opened the door, making absolutely no sound as the silencing spell he had cast did its work. Stepping out into the moonlit night Harry frowned at the sight of his dead and broken body, a look that did not match his scrawny six year old form. After a few moments of thought he sighed and stepped forward, rummaging quickly in his dead body's robes and removing his wand, a small mokeskin bag, and a small black-metal case with a muggle combination lock on it.

Stepping back he looked down at his dead body with his narrowed eyes for a moment before waving his wand, a silently cast spell causing the entire body and all trace it had ever been there to dissolve into water. When Petunia woke in the morning all she would find would be a strange tear in her yard coinciding with a puddle of mud.

As he finally took stock of his new body Harry's frown deepened. He took in his scrawny six year old form and his dirty and tattered hand-me-downs, six sizes too large for his skinny frame, and growled slightly. It was a far cry from his twenty nine year old fit physique and his form-fitting custom-made clothes.

Harry's first words in his 'new six-year old body echoed along Privet Drive, unheard as no one was awake to hear them.

"Bloody hell. How the fuck am I supposed to get laid now?"

Although no one knew it yet, on this day their world was changed forever.

Somewhere in Albania a dark spirit, surviving by hijacking the bodies of snakes and consuming rats, shivered as he felt several of the dark bonds upon his soul breaking. The spirit, currently inhabiting a species of black venomous snakes, opened its eyes as wide as possible in horror.

No....The Mark....My Horcruxes!!!

The hissing cry of anguish that went forth into the night scared many of the nearby vermin dead, a fact the spirit would discover shortly when he satisfied his gullet. That, however, would not improve his mood any further.

All around Great Britain objects of great power shivered as the bonds connecting them were broken, the disrupting influence of the Dark Lord Voldemort's final death breaking the bonds between the lost fragments of his soul.

In a vault in Gringotts a golden jewel-encrusted cup flickered, the reflection of a pale snake-eyed man grinning evilly out from its surface.

In Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, hidden in a House Elf's cupboard, a silver locket shuddered violently.

In Essex, hidden under the floor of the drawing room of a prominent pureblood family, a black-covered diary fell open, words flowing across the open pages in black ink.

Near the town of Little Hangleton, hidden in the remains of the Gaunt family residence, a black stone ring began to glow ominously with a green light.

At Hogwarts, hidden in the Room of Requirement, a gem-studded Tiara shuddered and fell off a bust of Rowena Ravenclaw, glinting ominously in the darkness.

At Number Four Privet Drive Harry Potter frowned and focused his magic inward. Moments later a fragment of green energy was cast out of the scar upon his forehead. However, as Harry turned away he failed to note that the green light did not simply vanish as he had anticipated. Instead the light shot off towards the west. As Harry Potter reentered Number Four Privet Drive the fragment of green light came to ground in the middle of the Surrey Zoo, diving straight into the reptile house. Within one of the enclosures a Bushmaster, one of the most dangerous snakes in the New World, was bathed in a green light. When it looked up its eyes had changed, taking on a reddish tint. The snake hissed.

Fuck...How am I supposed to get laid now! Damn you Voldemort!!! Damn you!!!

Unbeknown to Harry James Potter, Age Six, of Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, he had gained an inadvertent ally. The part of himself that had inhabited the young body prior to his arrival had been fused with the inhabiting part of Voldemort's soul, taking an imprint of adult Harry himself along with him. Whether this would prove to be an advantage to the now-young Dark Wizard hunter however is still to be seen.

Fin

Here you go, another installment of "Mind of a Marauder". This particular idea came to me at about 5:30 AM while at work one day. I just thought "Hey, people are always writing fics where things go to crap and Harry goes back in time to fix it. But what if things hadn't gone to crap? What if they had in fact been GOOD? And then what if Voldemort, in a last ditch effort to win, tried to go back in time and Harry got dragged with him? Surely the Boy-Who-Lived wouldn't be crowing about second chances. No, he'd be plain and simply pissed that Voldemort had messed up his holiday plans...again. I don't wish to spoil too much of the planned ideas for this story to readers (except those who might be interested in negotiating to pick this story up) but the separation of the soul fragments will be important and come into play later in the story. After all, what's an overpowered hero without overpowered antagonists to fight with, ne?

The Diary will eventually possess a Hogwarts student, absorbing their life and freeing fragment one of Riddle's soul.

The Diadem will eventually possess a Hogwarts professor, controlling him/her to be as a puppet. The professor however will die when the Diadem is destroyed.

The Cup will likewise be used to possess someone, though this time intentionally and willingly on the part of the sacrificial subject, whos' body will be transformed into essentially a female Voldemort.

The Ring will corrupt numerous students who encounter it, freeing them only upon its destruction.

The Locket will be turned into a tuning fork for Harry to track down the rest.

The snake will become Harry's ally and hindrance all in the same package (perverted peeping tom snake).

Voldemort's main soul will be resurrected, and he will create a new Horcrux to ensure his survival.

The objects contained within the mysterious muggle case and the mokeskin bag will be the key to Harry setting himself up independently early on. More importantly, key to why Dumbledore never suspects anything is up with Harry until he arrives at Hogwarts. For now, I will leave you all guessing as to the contents of those two objects.

The fight wages on...and all Harry wants is to get laid.