Lose Heart and Gain Wisdom
I have not found a decent fic that starts at the ritual that doesn't either completely canon, or go too far off with the personalities, or simply changed Harry's personality after they added/revealed some power at the graveyard. It's so nice to find someone loving how I paint pictures with words, and make Harry subtly braver and Voldemort more dangerous without going the route that he was 'reincarnated' as a sane human. I quite hate the way fics make Voldemort throw around Crucio curses with no reason, which is why I had those excuses made.
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OfLifeDeathAndAllBetween: Thank you! I'm so happy to see all the reviews after these exams! You guys made my day, especially after I scored a lot of money from my little business of translating journals english-indonesia ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ)
House-Of-Marcella: Hmmmmmmm, I'm still debating whether Danny should be in a coma or not right now…
Kimera20: Heya, Kimera, thanks for your help through Anomaly Without Charge and this rewritten version of it. I do so love Nagini! Thank you for the compliment, and I really appreciate your enthusiasm throughout my planning this crossover out. As of right now, I've got super epic plans in the future. I'm still grinning just thinking about it.
Winter's Folly: Reading it for the 50th time isn't doing me any good. Exactly what should I clean up?
The Sin of Justice: I did warn in my profile (since 2 years ago) that if I ever write Pokemon, I would most likely kill it. Thus, the reason I never accepted any Pokemon prompts. Besides that though, I honestly can't keep Castform. It's way too powerful. Clumsy and slow, but its mood can affect nature. It'd be like Danny and Vortex running on rampage. But I didn't bring Castform in just to kill it. I planned to keep it but then my hands typed its death… Noting that, Castform's existence isn't off the story's grid yet. And before you ask, I will explain why Barty could manage to bring Castform in the maze. Glad I could turn your opinion better XD
1 One Piece Fan: Aww, will you tell me what? I know I go for complicated stuff, but I really dislike making readers confused to the point the story doesn't excite your imagination.
Emberlynne: This is probably my best exam season. I'd probably not score the highest, but I've never worked as hard as I am now to get top marks. And the results are showing. The questions seem easy even. Thanks for all your luck!
Guest: It's why I included Barty talking about Arbok, Vileplume, and Tangela. Anyone decently familiar with Pokemon will connect the raindrop shape immediately.
. o . 0 . o .
"I'd insult you," : normal talk
But the sad truth is you wouldn't understand, : thoughts, flashbacks
(And if I tried to explain it to you,) : leaked thoughts from Harry to Tom and vice versa through their horcrux link
$Your brain might implode,$ : parsle speak
From information overload. : ghost speak
I've tried forever getting out on my own
.
I hate
this golden
warmth of hope
.
The tension was high, and people were very curious to see who will win everytime they catch glimpses of wand spells or shouts. Privately, Hermione was really disappointed in the last two tasks. The first one was really dangerous but she had fun, guiltily, but she still had fun. The second task and the third task don't show them anything else though. And she was getting tired of waiting around.
The watchers who were still waiting for the three champions began to stand up on their seats when rain started pouring down abruptly – mostly muggleborns, the purebloods (and the smart ones—which included her, obviously) merely casted a bastardized version of Protego above their heads to keep them from getting entirely wet (it was only to repel naturally falling rain so none exhausted their magic by casting it).
When her heart burst in sync with the thunderous clouds, she calmed herself. It was just a cloudburst, she rationalized, a sudden dump of large amounts of water when a warm air parcel mixes with cooler air causing sudden condensation. She remembered from her summer classes. It has nothing to do with that shimmering spot there in the maze where Harry's probably having a battle with something.
Thunderous lightnings roared and the clouds decided they should drown people below with pelts of rain. When the rain suddenly stopped and the storm clouds diminishing that rapidly, she knew the sun wasn't shining naturally.
"Hey, Mione," she turned to the one of the very few people who called her with that nickname. "You reckon Harry's got something to do with the weather changing?"
"He's hardly that sort of powerful, Ron." Controlling the weather! She didn't want to think about it. "But, it wouldn't be the first time."
Ron glanced at her hand that wasn't occupied with her wand. "Are you seriously reading at a time like this? Merlin, Mione, you're obsessed."
"I have to take precautions against boredom for cases like this." And she had been hoping that the act of holding a book would tell people that no, I don't want to talk, can't you see I am busy? She cast a quick Tempus and noted that two hours have passed. A few people had left the stands to get snacks, and she had re-read this little survival guide book thrice.
Something stung her legs and Hermione bent down to slap at it. Turning over her palm she saw it was a dead mosquito. Lifting her head up she saw a horde of mosquitoes were currently stinging wizards and witches on the stands. Snapping her head to the direction someone screaming pointed she saw a bunch of dark green shrubs running towards the stands with chubby legs and big black shiny eyes. She only managed to identify the creatures when it shot three barbed vines to the stands.
"Move, Mione!" Ron pushed her body away and they fell down on the stands, tumbling over the students' who stood below them. The vines shot pass their bodies but looped on some of the seat planks and tore it away, effectively forcing the wizards who stood on top of it to jump down and flee.
"Professor McGonagall!" Hermione started, making her way over.
"Miss Granger, turn around!" Hermione complied and as soon as she did so a giant purple cobra burst out of the nearest maze entrance. Her book had fallen out of her grasp but not her wand, and she brandished it towards the cobra. She heard another hiss and saw that there were four more giant cobras coming out of the other maze entrance.
"Bombar—"
"Expelliarmus!" Hermione's wand flew out of her grasp and landed into Professor Moody's hands. "Don't bother shooting any spell at them missy. Their skin is as tough as trolls! And if you had managed that you'll only make them lash out in an instant. Despite their size, they're fast." He gave Hermione her wand back. "Now go back with the others!"
She turned her back and spotted Ron, so she ran towards him and the other spectators, all huddled together and brandishing their wands against the creatures – not firing under the other Professors' instructions.
One of the closest cobras stretched its mouth open.
"Professor Moody," Dumbledore's voice was low, but was heard by everyone there. "Please go into the maze and retrieve the other champions. Only you know where the Triwizard Cup is." The war veteran gave a curt nod and looked ahead at one of the entrance.
With the sun blazing like this, he could see the very end of the passages were swarming with tangelas, their chubby feet slowly tumbling through the path. A hairy stick-like leg shot out of a corner and followed by others, and soon the giant acromantula climbed up the maze walls.
"Now, Alastor!"
Moody knew Arboks were agile and fast despite their size, so he cast a Bombarda at the ground between two of the cobras and ran past it as the cobras were sent to the opposite sides.
The hairy stick-like legs belonged to an Acromantula. Despite their reputation, they aren't an active threat to humans. But if they're provoked, they will attack anything in sight, including their own kind.
The dark maze had done a good job concealing exactly how many Moody—in reality, Barty Crouch Junior had put into the maze. Barty didn't bring any of the bigger ones—only ones that was barely the size of an average eleven year old child, so that Dumbledore won't abject to using the creatures. The champions will definitely provoke them should they see one, registering them as a threat when they would have not have a care of silly humans passing by. But the rare creature Barty had caught in a purposefully isolated cave did its job in mucking up the weather and bringing out a bright sun.
Above all, Acromantulas despise the sunshine.
Barty prepared to shoot a hex at the acromantula and flee, but a snout filled with long fangs shot out of the same corner and striked at the plump spider's body.
Opposite to them, the Arboks were snakes who are easily agitated from lack of heat. And after being forced to traverse an ever-changing damp maze, of course they were going to come out to seek warmer spots, such as a clearing of dirt with many humans running about nearby.
Turning around from the acromantula and arbok Barty shot a fire spell at the wall on his left, creating a human sized hole and causing painful squeees of some Tangelas that were hiding inside the thick leaves. His coat flapped harshly by the sudden wind the remaining in-hiding Tangelas created, and he quickly jumped through the hole. His leg made it to the other side before the wall of leaves closes by dark green vines that were entwining together.
He threaded his way through the rather familiar maze. Hastily jumping through another burnt hole he was met with a wand to his face by the Durmstrang champion. Recognizing his appearance through his Imperius-ed mind, the boy lowered his wand.
"Find the Diggory boy." Barty latched onto his hold over the boy as he issued another command. "After an hour, go outside the maze with him and forget that any of this has happened."
The boy gave a gruff confirmation with a blank face, and walked away from him.
Barty cleared his head and tried to remember where his position is. Just three walls away from the Cup, if he remembered well (and he remembers very well). Sitting innocuously hidden nearby the Triwizard Cup's position, was a silver wristwatch Barty had charmed to be a Portkey.
His Lord had known about a creature that could affect and be affected by the weather; a power entirely dependent on its ever-changing emotions that the creature proved to be too troublesome to be utilized. It wasn't infallible, as it wasn't quite agile and easily got hit with an offensive spell, but since it's one of a kind the Magical Creature department of 1802 sealed it in an isolated part of a deep cave in the Forbidden Forest, charmed the walls to never let its sole residents to ever reach the outer lands so that it won't affect the weather anymore. Some were sent to study it but after three dozens were killed the cave was sealed shut and it was quickly forgotten as more exotic beasts decided to take up residence in the forest.
He had his Imperius–ed father cast a constant stream of explosive spells onto the other side of the cave to make way and as soon as Barty locked eyes with it he shot a sleeping spell at the creature before it started anything. He floated his charmed wristwatch to touch it and had it Portkeyed inside the thick bushes of a wall behind the Cup. It would stay asleep unless startled violently by someone. He had planned to get in the maze to wake it up but he supposed that Diggory boy that had disturbed it, considering Krum was still alive and the Veela had been taken out. Barty noted that the weather was still sunny, so the creature was probably dead by now. But the Portkey should still be in the coordinates he had set, and he'll use it to get to the cave and disappear from Hogwarts.
He didn't encounter many creatures, having most of them running outside the maze to wreak havoc. Just one more turn—
Is that Potter?! True enough, this is the body of his student for the past year. What is he doing here? He's supposed to be dead by Master's hands at the graveyard! Potter was lying on the ground on his back, and there was some silver liquid on his jeans, perhaps a spilled potion. Just a far way's off, he caught sight of another body, the Diggory boy. There was a wand beside the body which Barty recognized it to be Potter's. There was also the Cup thrown on the ground. Meaning it had been touched; meaning Potter really had gone to the graveyard. Either Master let Potter go, or the boy managed to escape.
He performed a quick check on both. Diggory was dead, which was okay; Potter was not dead, which was not fortunate.
It was a strange sight to see his right hand and left ankle suffering frostbites under the glaring sun, but he guessed it was due to being an injury by the same creature that affected the weather to be this sunny. The boy's elbow was blistering with unnatural heat too, and all injured spots had indication of small bite marks. His sleeve was torn, bloodied from what is obviously a knife wound.
Barty let loose a mad grin, distorting Mad-Eye Moody's already disfigured face. Potter had undergone the ritual! The boy had given his Lord a new body!
Should he kill the boy? No. Silly Death Eaters would probably take their revenge immediately on the unconscious boy, but Barty knew better. His Lord would not be pleased if his minions killed him. The boy's life was for his Lord solely to claim.
Barty wasn't a healer – never got interested in the art at all – but it didn't appear that he would need to take out his stash of healing potions. The boy's own magic was already working on the wounds and it was quite fascinating to see it forming the skin back without any aid from potions or spell. So he simply shook the boy's head, just rough enough to wake him up. The boy groaned and attempted to sit up, but using his blistering elbow for it was a bad move. He collapsed back onto the dirt ground. "… Shite. Ancestors above…" Harry squinted. "Professor Moody?"
"Aye, Potter. You got some nasty bites there. Must be from one o' the creature I put inside here, eh? You're good to go?" Moody didn't wait for Potter to confirm. He yanked the boy's good elbow and had him stand up. Potter wobbled for a second before recovering.
Flicking his wrist, his Holly wand didn't come to his grasp. Harry could remember it falling off his grasp when... He looked behind him and saw a blurry figure lying on the ground. His throat hitched. He bit his lip and focused on calling for his wand as he can't see it with his terrible eyesight. A wandless (and wordless) Accio got his wand back in his fingers, and Harry conjured a pair of glasses. It wasn't accurate, but at least he could see better.
Why didn't I make this before? I really need to keep a clearer head.
"I'm still in the maze? Why are you here, Professor? I suppose the third task is over?"
"You're correct on that. Most of the creatures got out and being trouble on the spectators, but Dumbledore's taking care of it. We better head out o' here and fix you, especially your wrist!"
"Wait, Professor!" Harry hissed in pain as Moody's fingers dug into the skin near the wrist Wormtail had slit. Pain blossomed on his forehead as the dripping blood threatened to take him back into unconsciousness. "This wound, it wasn't from the maze. Voldemort did it!"
Moody paused for a good moment before he growled menacingly. "Bloody Merlin, Potter, your sock's better not be lying."
"Why the bloody hell would I lie about him?" Harry scowled.
"Granted, you're the last person who would." Moody's wand twirled in a motion that Harry didn't know but committed to memory all the same, and after he finished the double flick, Harry felt a faint shimmering of the air around him, as if they were covered inside a translucent orb before it faded. "One-way privacy charm," Moody explained. "Not the one you know that blocked both sides' noises. Now, explain yourself, Potter."
"Cedric and I de—we touched the Goblet at the same time," Harry hurriedly explained before he start tearing up or something else Professor Moody wouldn't tolerate. "Someone must have sabotaged the coordinates because it didn't Portkeyed us back outside the maze, we arrived in a graveyard."
"A graveyard? Where is it?" Barty knew of course, but he had to pretend to be oblivious. It was surprisingly easy; Moody was never one to make any expression other than gruff, blank, and terrifying.
"I don't know where exactly. Though it wasn't my first time seeing it. I've never been there, but I've been seeing the graveyard and the mansion nearby in my dreams."
"Dreams?" Moody didn't have to fake a surprise.
"Yeah. I told Professor Dumbledore. I've been having dreams about it since summer. Voldemort was this deformed, baby-thing. There was Peter Pettigrew. And someone else who is actually Barty Crouch Senior's son." Moody fought the instinctive reaction to charm Obliviate whenever someone randomly recognized him. "Dumbledore can't figure out how he managed to stay alive though, or escape Azkaban." Harry continued.
"I'd be thrilled to see Crouch's face when he found out about his son. Heh, too bad." He added, hiding the satisfaction of knowing that his dear father had been forced to cock about the forest before finally getting put to death. "Good thing you told Dumbledore about this rather than keeping it to yerself. Then? What happened when you got there?"
"Voldemort had Wormtail kill Cedric." Harry quickly glanced morosely as he spotted the body on the ground. "Then he did a ritual. He needed my blood," he flicked his bloody wrist, "flesh from Wormtail—from his servant, and then his father's bone…" Harry recalled the brief glimpse he had gotten from the dark cemetery. Thomas Riddle. 18… He didn't memorize the year. "He got a new body, but he didn't look much human. His animal nature shown through and the body looked like a cross between a human and a snake." Harry shivered. "He got Wormtail a new hand made of wood, and it worked perfectly like a real hand. Then he called in his Death Eaters. Malfoy Senior was there, so too Crabbe, Goyle, and Macnair."
And now the Boy Who Lived had complete certainty that those families were really Voldemort supporters and not under the Imperius curse. Barty wondered how Harry managed to get away from most of the Inner Circle. "How did you got away then with being surrounded?"
"He wanted to duel. And Voldemort forbid the others from interfering. I took one out though. And delayed Voldemort enough to get Cedric and got away with the Goblet. After that it was just dealing with this ghost thing that could control the weather. Those plant walls impaled it though. That's it."
You should have died. "Good job knowing you were outclassed."Or joined Master.
Barty almost slapped himself. Like hell Death Eaters would ever manage to work with the Boy Who Lived. Instead you ruined his plans.
Harry shot him a small glare at the jab of his competency, but conceded the point. "So is your wound still hurting?" Moody asked.
Harry grimaced and nodded shakily. He walked slowly to not aggravate his ankle and gripped his wand tight in his bitten hand. The one that had been bitten to the point of freezing. "My magic's not working on healing it fast enough. The last spell on our duel tired both of us out. I'll need a potion to kick it up." He looked at Cedric again. "We aren't going to leave him, are we?"
I'd prefer that, yes. "You levitate him. Come on. The ward is still up so we can't apparate. I'll bring the Cup." Barty ordered mostly to stall some time. He didn't know what to do after this. He was supposed to get out of Hogwarts now! The entire plan hinges on killing off the boy and letting the Ministry scurry around trying to find his dead body while his Lord prepares for the war.
"Okay, Profess—" Moody heard the boy whimper. When Potter began to wheeze in pain Moody turned around to find him clutching his head in pain. "Potter?" He clasped the boy's shoulders and observed the boy's form. His jaw was slack, and his chest tensed, and his eyes dilated. Something was wrong. "Don't tell me you need to rest—"
"Barty," the voice was soft and deep. Harry's eyes had tinted a crimson red. "This is your Lord."
For a moment, his fake persona that worships CONSTANT VIGILANCE wanted to shoot a blasting curse at the boy, but he didn't dare. "My Lord." Barty dropped on his knees but his head was still up to look at him. My God. His Lord could possess Potter? Amazing… "H-How…"
"Quaint, is it not?" Harry, or rather Lord Voldemort, smirked. "And the boy doesn't even know."
. o . 3 . o .
Ancestors above, how did he end up like this?
$How come I cannot touch you? I cannot eat you so at least let me taste you!$
Danny woke up to find a giant snake slithering on top of him with its snout near his face, and he instinctively turned intangible and the snake was now slithering through his untouchable body with its forked tongue trying to touch him in futile. He didn't turn invinsible, he just wanted to fly away, but his entire body was somehow stuck on the bed.
It was confusing. Danny tried to move his feet but while he could wriggle his toes, the part where his body was touching the sheets was unmoveable. But it wasn't paralyzation. Danny eyed the snake in wonder, how it managed to touch his transdimensional body and not get possessed. Not that Danny tried to possess the animal but shouldn't it be overshadowed by default already? He hoped it won't move pass his head, he didn't think he could stomach seeing its insides when his metaphysical eyeballs would be inside a live snake meat.
The animal was whiny too. Danny tried to speak, but a hiss slid out of his mouth as if he didn't have lips. $Hey, what time is it?$
The snake made a really weird face, and it took Danny a moment to realize that it was thinking. $Are you kin to the Harry Potter human?$
$I'm going to guess that's your friend?$
The snake started trashing around.
$Okay, okay, he's bad person, I get it. Geez, you don't have to be so descriptive about mauling this guy.$
$I do not like him! Master's Enemy!$
$Er, who's your master then?$ It's so weird having a conversation with a snake that was poised right where your translucent chest is at.
$His name is Lord Voldemort! You were unconscious and you smell like you are dying so I wanted to eat you before you are a waste but he told me not to.$
It was a testament to Skulker's weekly threats of pelting his skin that Danny took this calmly. $I'll tell him thanks later then.$ Assuming he couldn't escape. $What time is it? You know time right?$
The snake's head poked up. $The sun is rising.$
Ugh, dawn. It's a bad time to be alive for a ghost. Danny eyed the snake. He had never seen a real snake, only a ghost snake. He thought only ghost animals have the ability to talk, some exceptions at least. Like the Yeti Clan, or the guardian animals of Pariah's Keep. He was pretty sure this one isn't a ghost snake. $Where are we?$
$I did not care to remember the names of places. So pointless.$ The snake dropped its head on the bed again.
$Please don't sleep here.$ He did not want to accidentally turn tangible and have a snake's body protruding in and out of his guts. $Uh, why don't you get your master?$
$Master is busy.$ The snake chided. Then it slithered off the bed and out of his vision—he can't move his head fully sideways. $I shall see him anyway.$
The snake's gliding body began to echo, and Danny figured it was out of the room and on some kind of hallway or large room. He turned tangible again and tried to sit up but his head was still stuck on the bed. But there was no glue! Not from what he can smell anyway. Maybe he'll get off if the bed's destroyed? Danny floated, and the bed floated along with him. He turned intangible again—without letting his powers affect the bed too—and passed through the roof. His eyes only managed to see concrete. Damn it! What kind of bed is this? He floated back down on the floor and tried to wriggle his way out again. Then his ears picked up footsteps.
"Finite." Suddenly, whatever made his back stuck on the bed was gone, and Danny could move. Whoever was by the open door shouted, "Incarcerous!" Before his eyes, ropes materialized and moved to bind his arms and legs. Eh, at least he managed to sit up. He turned around to see a short blond man pointing a… a wooden stick at his face.
"Hey, if this is some asinine attempt to recruit me for your evil mastermind's plans, let me tell you, I have an entire year dealing with that." Danny smiled benignly. The way this man handled the stick was like a weapon, like it's a magic wand or shit. He thought wizards only use staff. Granted he only saw Princess Dora's ghost wizards and witches and they were stuck in mediaval times. Maybe they moved on from the inconvenient weapon. Or maybe human wizards are just different. Oh yeah, different world. "Say, mind answering my questions. I have no idea where the hell I am!" Danny smiled brightly.
. o . 3 . o .
I initially wanted to make it more traumatic, more dramatic. But this is the guy that still jokes when faced with his seemingly imminent evil future-self. Making him too angsty is just distasteful. I couldn't have him muster up grief because of the suddenness, and he did consent to being sent to an alternate world so that his precious people will live on a relatively (we're dealing with a Time Master here) non-urgent manner, so throwing the grief period immediately just doesn't feel right.
It has nothing to do with my incompetence at writing angst.
Also, do speculate on the fact that Danny Can Understand Nagini.