*C*B*T*O*


Cake By The Ocean : Pseudonymous Entity


"Every great story seems to begin with a snake." -Nicolas Cage


Summary: "I killed Sirius Black." Locked in his headmaster's office after the events at the ministry, Harry discovers a collection of memories revealing the childhood of his enemy...and his own. It is what he does with the information that is interesting.

Characters: Harry Potter, Lord Voldemort, Tom Riddle, Albus Dumbledore

Warnings: Unknown at this point. When I figure out if I am continuing this or not I'll fill this in.

AN: As always I welcome thoughts, questions, guesses, theories and limericks. In whichever order of importance you feel inclined to give.

ANx2: Once again you lot surprise me with your interest to my in little, insignificant story ideas.

ANx3: I will be posting illustrations of my ideas of the characters and creatures and places in this and my other stories on Deviant Art for those interested in giving them a look. Let me know and I'll give you a link.

ANx4: Still think you're interested in where this is going?

Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]


"...one surrenders one's reality to the person to whom one lies

Making that person one's master

Condemning oneself from then on to faking the sort of reality that person's view requires to be faked…

The man who lies to the world is the world's slave from then on…

And a white lie is the blackest of all."

― Ayn Rand


Cake by the Ocean : Chapter 2


"It's Gaunt."

Assuming a fake identity. He was a terrible Gryffindor.

Harry had once pretended to be someone else when he rode the Knight Bus for the first time. Almost gotten away with it too though it hadn't been well thought out. After knowing people like Quirrell with his fake stutter and persona, Lockhart with his fake everything, Lupin hiding his werewolf and Barty pretending to be Moody...well. Harry rather thought he might actually get away with this.

The various memories he'd seen flickered through his mind, a plan forming and reforming and building. It was quite lucky this was just some sort of butchered memory really, otherwise he'd be far more concerned about the consequences of his actions. He didn't have to be, though. And he didn't have to be Harry Potter here either. He could act however he wanted, and say whatever he wanted because he didn't know these people and couldn't care less what they thought of him, and none of it would even matter in the end anyway. How freeing.

Right now, filling out paperwork, Harry was relying on the things he'd come to learn about wizards since entering the world of magic.

In general, most especially if they were 'light' wizards, they tended to want to see the best in people and were far too trusting. Additionally, having grown up n a world of magic, they lacked what Hermione termed 'logic' and Harry termed 'Common Sense'. If he looked the part and acted the part they'd believe -or at least pretend to- just so they wouldn't look out of the loop, if they were socially aware, or so they wouldn't appear to be uninformed. Like an educator at a renowned school ought to be. If Harry said he was the wayward child of a reclusive line of purebloods come to seek a formal education and reenter society, then they would believe it. Or Dippet would. Harry planned on only a few ever discovering his 'cover'. Messing with both Riddle and Dumbledore was something he intended to enjoy to the fullest.

Thus he had two. One the supposed 'fake' and the one beneath it the supposed 'truth'. Because whoever had more than one cover? And it was so unlikely that he supposed they were likely to believe it simply because it would do it him more good socially to have the truth known than covered up. They would assume something scandalous was involved probably. Wizards were odd like tat.

Assuming everyone's greatest ambition was to be fawned over.

Ridiculous.

Still, this would work for his purposes. What was the point in learning the system if one didn't intend to use it to one's advantage? He wasn't in the real world it wasn't as if any of his choices would have real consequences. They can't have. Dumbledore would have offed him ages ago if the child destined to be equal to the dark lord grew up looking like him and into someone he remembered from the past. Time traveling toddlers with the power to defeat dark lords were definitely something that the old man would have done something about. Okay so maybe he wouldn't kill him. Probably. He would have been locked up somewhere. For his own good.

When did he become so bitter? He needed to lighten up. Sirius would prefer it.

He could use his size and clothing to project how awful his pretend relatives were. Or fake really as they were real people simply not his real relatives. Having a tragic back story tended to gain you an obscene amount of leeway with people. Being wealthy or powerful or both did that as well. Unfortunately from what Harry had seen the Gaunt's blew through their wealth. There was no reason for the rest of the wizarding world to know that, however. And if he found an excuse to show off his skills... Everyone wanted to be friends with talented individuals. Like the talent would rub off on them.

Wizards and Muggles had this alike. Uncle Vernon was constantly inviting far better employees over to impress them. Their talent never really rubbed off from what Harry had seen. But, his Uncle made up for his lack of talent in cleverness. He learned shortcuts and tricks to make it appear he held similar skills. He networked. Bribed. Blackmailed and Intimidated. Whatever it took.

If it hadn't been so often used to Harry's detriment it might have been something he could admire about him. A redeeming quality if morally questionable.

His relatives in this world didn't seem much better. Alas.

So Harry sat on a stool in the foreign familiar office and answered questions forming his new identity as they were given to him. Armando Dippet -in stark contrast to the methods of one Albus Dumbledore- respected any and all questions Harry hesitated to answer, without judgment. This was because Harry couldn't think up an answer quick enough but the man seemed to be of the opinion that these were topics he had a tough time addressing as a result f his 'home-life'. No pressure. No subtle insinuations it would be for the best if he shared the information or knowing looks expected to induce speech.

The man was vain as well which Harry found particularly entertaining. Dumbledore had always worn outlandish outfits and offered candies, perhaps to appear less than dangerous. Harry did not think Armando Dippet could bring himself to do the same no matter how worthy the reward. His dark hair had a massive amount of Malfoy-worthy product in it, each brow either plucked or waxed and the triangular beard on his chin held unnaturally straight lines. Several minutes of watching the man move his hands about as he spoke had Harry suspicious his nails were manicured. The way the light shines off of them as he so expressively moved them couldn't possibly be an effect that could be achieved unaided.

For all his Malfoy-esque mannerisms, Harry found himself liking Dippet. He owned his vanity with a grace the younger Malfoy currently lacked.

"One last thing Gaunt. It is regular for students such as yourself to floo home at night or over the weekend as standard dorms are reserved for full-time, paid students. From your attire I assume you'd rather not floo home?" This was all said delicately.

Harry nodded, thinking. This could be problematic. He could rent a room somewhere if he managed to get money. What a hassle.

"I'd thought not."

"Perhaps," Harry paused. "Is there anything I could assist with in exchange for a stipend I could use to pay for a room here in the castle? Work as a teacher's aid or a tutor or help down in the greenhouses maybe? I would be more than willing sir, just as long as no notices of this development were sent home. ...you understand sir?"

Dippet's face darkened momentarily. "Yes, lad." Whatever it was the man thought Harry's reasons were worked ion his favour. It really did pay off to make ambiguous statements and let other people come to their own conclusions. "I do think something like that can be arranged."

While Dippet made plans for Harry to come to the school and perform various tasks, Harry sat back on his little school and considered all of the happenings of the last twenty-four hours. He thought of that wretched woman and the curse she used against him. He thought of leaving her behind to the centaur's mercy without any of his own to give to her. Harry thought of running off to the Ministry to save his godfather only to have the man lose his life rescuing Harry from his foolishness. He thought of exacting revenge from Bellatrix for stealing his Godfather from his life. Of the strange interaction with Lord Voldemort. Harry thought of the return to the castle, of being imprisoned within the headmaster's office and the secrets he'd found there.

He considered everything he'd learned that day and he knew that this would be the time to back out. This would be the time to leave and to find the Dumbledore of this time and spill his guts and try to find a way to end this pseudo-memory driven fantasy.

He knew even as he thought those things that he would not, could not do so. Dumbledore had known the prophecy and kept it from him. He had known how he was treated at him and still made him return every summer. Had done nothing. Dumbledore had allowed him to grow believing he was worthless. Oh but Harry knew now. The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal. Harry wasn't worthless. He had never been worthless. Harry believed, really believed, that any individual who should put their own desire for the world and their own plans before the welfare of a child deserved an appropriate punishment.

He had seen it after all. The memories. A young Tom Riddle in an especially horrid orphanage run but a drunkard woman and he wondered, what did he do to you? To make you this way? Is he doing the same to me? Will I be driven to destroy every piece of myself to make myself anew in order to escape it? Will I learn to hate the world with such ferocity, too?

The worst thing about discovering being lied to, is knowing you somehow weren't worth the truth. It wasn't worth it. You weren't trusted enough. Valued enough. The services you could provide in ignorance of the lie were all wanted, surely, but you yourself? The you you were beneath or perhaps without all of those things that had made you valuable. That person wasn't worth anything at all. What a horrible thing t do. To make a child, any child, feel that way. To allow it. To believe it was worth it or them to feel that way. A thought process like this could do nothing but imply you never considered the child as a child and now a plaything of some kind. As anything other than a pawn or a piece in whatever game you were playing.

That is exactly what Harry had been to Dumbledore. He could never view his once mentor as the surrogate grandfather he'd become to him over the years, even when he was angry with him. The damage a lie had sown would not be mended. Could not be. Once sown its grown roots. Even it were ripped from the earth it would leave a scar there. And what a lie. To know everything about another person in that way. To know things they didn't -and deserved- to know. To keep them from him. Harry felt foolish. Dumbledore was powerful and respected and because he'd given Harry attention Harry had trusted him without question. He had used the man's attentions to feel like he mattered, because Dumbledore thought he mattered. So he'd been willing to keep his questions to himself no matter how they burned. He'd been willing to return to the Dursleys no matter how it hurt. He'd sacrificed his thoughts and opinions and voice to this man.

Just as he had once done the same for his relatives when he was nothing but an unwanted subhuman creature beneath the stairs.

They completed the paperwork. Harry requested an additional alias -though Dippet did not know that there was one already in place- as an extra precaution. He said simply that he did not wish his relatives to know what he was doing with his time and for no one to have the means to inform them. Dippet readily agreed, charmed already by Harry's supposed tragic home life he'd merely hinted at. He did feel a twinge of guilt for using the man's sensibilities in a such a way. Harry took a half moment to acknowledge what he was doing wasn't technically 'right' and proceeded to shove any and all feelings of guilt into a corner in his mind somewhere in a box marked 'useless'. His new 'new identity' finished, Harry arranged to meet with the man the next day to agree upon a schedule for his duties, whatever they may be.

Walking from the castle Harry already knew the next steps in his plan. Involving a matron at an orphanage, two horrid wizards and the liberal use of Obliviates and Confundus charms. It didn't much matter if he messed it up. It was all pretended, and it felt sort of good. Being bad. Maybe he could perfect his mind work well enough he could shock his Potions Professor when he returned. He found himself wanting to make some sort of amends with the man now that he knew Occulmancy would have actually helped.

A place to stay too. He did not want to stay at the Gaunts and while staying at the Leaky Cauldron was something he'd done before he was afraid it would be noticed. So, perhaps he would stay in the Chamber? No one else would be using it. Not yet. He would use the money he earned to get himself a better wardrobe. He could perhaps even pay a visit to the come and go room. Find some fabric or something he could use to make the things he could not afford. Find some history books too. There was only so much he could get away with bluffing knowledge of. He thoroughly blamed Professor Binns for this gap in his knowledge.

Stepping outside of the wards, Harry turned to look at the castle.

It didn't matter what his headmaster's intentions were in the end. Harry held no doubts that Dumbledore believed his choices were he was doing what he truly thought was best for the world. That didn't mean much to a Freak from Under the Stairs. It just didn't. Harry couldn't find it within himself to be that forgiving. To be that understanding. To be that merciful. He wouldn't, he didn't and he wasn't.

So, in this moment, crossing this line so bold before him, Harry allowed himself to do something he'd never indulged in. Harry thought and acted selfishly.

He was a fifteen-year-old presented with an opportunity, you see. The very best and very worst sort of opportunity. To change things. To meddle. To avenge his hurts. An opportunity. He might not be able to make the memory a reality once he'd left it behind, but he could take what he learned with him. The opportunity was waiting, in front of him.

And he took it.


Pseudonymous Entity

2017


Notes

As always I welcome thoughts, questions, guesses, theories and limericks. In whichever order of importance you feel inclined to give.

AN: I do have an idea where I want this to go. I know the end game anyway and I know the things I'd like to have happen. To be honest I have never liked most 'time travel stories' that I have read because Harry almost always reveals himself immediately to someone or he's found out int he first ten chapters. I don't find it likely that being odd would have people -a genius like Tom Riddle or not- suddenly deciding you were a time traveler. Additionally, if I were to find myself in another time -a memory warped version of it or not- and a chance to be someone else for a bit, I wouldn't tell a soul. I wouldn't even feel inclined to.

I do hope everyone is alright with the darker aspirations of this story.

ANx2: Points if you think you can guess where this may be going.

-Pseu


"Remember the good old days before I was replaced - By a fake. Stop looking at the mess we've made, oh what the Hell

Let's have another night of making mistakes. Five steps from the centre we stand, let's throw a coin up and see how it lands

The way we were, the way we weren't, who's to say? How much of you in me do you still see?

Change your name and your address, the result of consequence. Remember the good old days before I was replaced...

By a snake."

-The Fake, The Snake, and the Birthday Cake