Chapter 3

Rebirth

"Who am I?"

It was a rather simple question, but a complicated series of answers came to her. A stream of answers appeared before her, as though written in fire.

Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord. Freak. Girl.

She considered these first names that popped. "No, no, those don't feel right at all," she murmured. "First of all, I am a Lady, not a Lord."

Lady Voldemort. The Dark Lady. Lady Freak. Lady Girl.

She giggled lightly at the names. "The Dark Lady can stay for now, but I need… more." The other names began to disappear, but new names came up.

The Dark Lady. Alice. Lily. Potter. Tom. Marvolo. Riddle.

"Ugh, what a common name, Tom… Take that one away."

The Dark Lady. Alice. Lily. Potter. Marvolo. Riddle.

She stared at the names now. "Definitely feel like an Alice," she decided. The name Alice rose above the others, and turned green. "And the title, I am most definitely a lady." Lady Alice. "Good." She continued to think deeply on the other names, and a figure appeared in her memories. "Yes, the old fool had a lot of names too, didn't he? Yes… Yes… that would feel right. Lady Alice Lily Marvolo Potter Riddle."

The names came to there now proper order and turned green together, and Alice Riddle smiled at her own name. It seemed to make the swelling mystery that was her mind become clearer, as memories began to become clearer. The girl who had been unsure who she was now knew her name, and the rest seemed to become clearer. At least, she initially thought it was as the memories came flooding back to her.

Her time at the orphanage, her time at school, working for a short time, before preparing to take over the wizarding world and bringing war upon those who stood in her way. Everything had been going so well until a prophecy brought her to… Oh, right, attacking herself. That little discrepancy in her memories made her lose her sense of identity again as the memories shifted to her younger memories.

Attacking herself, growing up abused, watching annoyed as the child that brought her low was getting worked like some house elf making her victory over herself even more absurd… Yes, this was an odd identity crisis she was having.

She wracked her brain trying to figure out how this worked, how she could remember being two people. Finally, she came up with an answer. "I am not Voldemort." This seemed obvious, since she had already thrown that name away. "I am not Tom. I… didn't grow up in an orphanage… I haven't even grown up yet." She looked down at herself, and sure enough, she did not visualize herself as an adult. She was a child, with childish desires.

But then, why did she remember being in an orphanage and growing up? "Obviously, I inherited the memories," she answered herself. Yes, that would explain it. And now she came upon something important, and the thought hit her hard. "Who are my parents?"

Four figures appeared. One of them was cast in shadow, because no part of Alice could remember what Merope Gaunt looked like. But Tom Riddle Senior was easy enough to identify, and Alice scowled. "No… No, neither of them are any parents to me…" Her mindscape swirled the images together and Lord Voldemort appeared before her, just as he had been six years ago. "… Yes… Yes, that makes sense, I'd have to have gotten the Riddle name somewhere, surely? Yes… That makes perfect sense." Or at least, it made sense enough to an Alice trying to construct her identity from two cracked souls swelling inside her body.

Alice Lily Marvolo Potter Riddle had three parents. There were her blood parents, James Potter and Lily Potter nee Evans, and then there was her spiritual parent, Tom Marvolo Riddle. She had inherited everything Tom Riddle ever was. She was his heir in all but blood. She was something of a reincarnation of Tom Riddle at the same time as she was different from him. Everything great about him was part of her, but of course Alice was sure she would be able to do better than the Dark Lord Voldemort ever could.

Yes, now that she thought it, she could practically feel her own persona begin to solidify. That was her spiritual father's pride, the knowledge and certainty that she would be the best. No one would ever rise that could be a challenge to her. After all, she was the one born with the power to defeat the Dark Lord, so she was the only one in the world greater then Lord Voldemort.

No, that couldn't be true. Her thoughts flashed to her mother's defiant last gaze. "If Tom Riddle was the greatest wizard in the world, then Lily Potter was definitely the greatest witch." That statement brought a swell of further pride, but also confusion. Lily Potter was a mud- muggleborn. She would never allow herself to think of her mother with that dirty word, but surely she can't have been a muggleborn if she was so powerful? Nothing coming from muggle blood could possibly be so…

"Muggleborns and Halfbloods are not inferior to Purebloods." Perhaps Lord Voldemort had always known that somewhere in his head, but his hatred for his muggle heritage had smothered the fact from being considered. Or perhaps old Tom had thought he was an exception to the rule? The more she came into her own identity, the less Alice could seem to remember what exactly went on through Voldemort's head, and began reviewing his memories from her own point of view. How the now incredibly clever child and how Voldemort had viewed his past were two entirely different things, as thoughts flashed over the 'friends' the Dark Lord had kept over the years.

This would take a lot of time, shifting through what had become of her mind and memories, carefully constructing herself. Such delicate work should not be interrupted.

Unfortunately, the screeching voice of Aunt Petunia waking her up did just that, and a little girl the wizarding world knew as Alice Potter awoke with a start. She stared at the door, thinking of the people she would find beyond. She barely realized she was being ordered to do something, cooking probably. Her stare was blank as she raised her hand and the door began to open on its own.

She walked into the kitchen, a swell of memories and confusion, looking about as though seeing the place for the first time in her life. Was this place really where she lived? She had never thought before how odd it was that there was not one photograph of her in the house. She also noticed how very small she was, and felt weird walking on her own two legs. Perhaps having memories of being very much taller would have to take some getting used to?

Indeed, thinking on it, her own body felt alien to her. She had a lifetime of memories being tall and male. More then that, she remembered having a radiating magical power in every step, the feel of robes clinging to her body rather then this worthless hand-me-down muggle garbage Alice Potter had been forced to wear. Alice Riddle had a different standard, surely. Yes, the new Alice was not going to be getting used to these rags the Dursley's dared to have her dress in.

This thought brought her eyes to her aunt. Something cold seethed inside Alice's heart as she studied the long necked horse of a woman. Uncle Vernon was just coming in behind her, and taking a seat that made the chair strain under his weight. Staring at them both was eventually noticed. "Don't stare," ordered Aunt Petunia.

Something hot clashed with the cold feeling, but did not fight with it. The two feelings met in a terrible union that spread through her body. Alice's lips spread in a chilling smile, and felt as though her blood boiled while her skin became ice. Aunt Petunia flinched, seeing something terribly frightening as she began to tremble. Uncle Vernon now took notice of Alice. "What are you smiling-" he said before he choked. Alice's eyes turned from her aunt to meet her uncle's, seeing a similar fear rise in him.

"Oh, what's wrong, my dear family?" she asked, the cold lacing her false friendly tone that spoke of danger and death. No child should sound like that.

"What… What freak thing are you doing with your eyes!?" demanded Vernon Dursley, trying to reassert his authority and cast aside his fear. He was not the sort of man to be intimidated by these freakish tricks, or so he believed.

Alice blinked, the icy mask shattering into genuine surprise. "My eyes?" she replied, her voice now much more normal of a curious child. She looked away from them, raising her hand towards a drawer that shot open and sent a kitchen knife into her hand, ignoring the gasps of shock from the worthless muggles. She raised the reflective surface to her eyes and stared. All she saw were two green eyes of her mother staring back at her.

The most genuine smile of childish adoration came to her face. She really did have her mother's eyes, despite having to hide them behind these ridiculous glasses. They were utterly beautiful, and for the first time, Alice thought there was something she truly liked about her appearance besides her scar. Her eyes drifted back to the Dursleys. "What was wrong with my eyes?"

"Never you mind!" cried Uncle Vernon. "Now cease this freakishness-" He became silenced as the knife was slammed down into the table, and nearly jumped back in shock as those eyes glared daggers that felt as though they were stabbing straight into his soul.

The cool smile was back on Alice's face now that she had their full attention. "I think there shall be some new rules in this household," she declared. "And we'll be throwing out all the old ones I used to have to live by. Like 'no questions'. The new rule is 'When Alice asks a question, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon will answer with complete and total honesty, and never lie.' Now, let's try again. What was wrong with my eyes?"

"Th-they turned red," whispered Aunt Petunia. "A-and the… the… Pupils…"

"Slitted like a snake?" asked Alice, thoughtfully. Her Aunt Petunia could only nod. So, she had gotten a bit more from good ol' Tom then just memories, then. She wondered what else she got? That would be something she would have to learn to control, it would not due to have the eyes of Lord Voldemort every time she got angry with someone. "An issue for later," she murmured to herself before returning her thoughts to the Dursleys. "Now, I wanted to talk about something very important. Tell me again about the 'car crash'."

Aunt Petunia looked as though her bones had been chilled as she shook at the way her niece spoke, the threat there. Petunia Dursley knew in her heart that somehow the girl had found out. She knew. Vernon, however, was not willing to accept a new status quo so easily. "We told you, those drunkards-"

The knife flew out of the table and soured straight towards Vernon Dursley, stopping right in front of his face. It was so sudden that he flew backwards in shock, trying to avoid the knife. "Now, now, Uncle Vernon, I told you not lie," Alice teased, giggling almost like a child, if a child could be as cruel as a mass murderer Dark Lord. "I will always know when you are lying to me now. I already know every lie you've ever spat at me, you worthless waste of fat."

The stunned silence hung in the room for minutes as the fallen Dursley looked into the hateful eyes of a magical child. The knife slid back down towards her hand, as she began to study it, a more genuine smile coming to her face as she relaxed. Bella had always liked knives.

"My father was Lord James Potter, a brave auror and head of the Noble House of Potter," she informed the Dursleys, not knowing if they ever even knew that much about the man they had spent years besmirching to his only living heir. "My mother was Lily Potter nee Evans, the greatest witch of her generation, if not the greatest witch who ever lived. They did not die in a car crash, they were killed in a war for the future of Britain, if not the world."

Her eyes met Petunia's once more, her smile turning into a disgusted frown. "Your sister was a war hero, and you told me nothing but hateful lies about her."

"W-war hero?" she replied, bitter jealousy built over years slicing past her fear of the situation. "M-my sister was a freak who got herself blown up for-" She yelped and jumped back as Alice jumped up on the table and pointed the knife in her direction, eyes like blood that seemed to call for hers.

"My mother killed a man who would have conquered the country and achieved immortality if not for her, you WORTHLESS MUGGLE!" screamed the girl, the cold mask now shattered by a furious fire. "Your kind would be slaves to the Dark Lord by now if it wasn't for my mother! Your government would have been nothing but helpless puppets, moved to position to wage a quiet war of conquest on the entire world." That seemed to shut her aunt up, at least for the moment.

The kitchen door opened, and Dudley Dursley stared slack-jawed at the scene in front of him. "W-what are you doing to mummy?" he cried, but Alice barely glanced in his direction with so much as a sneer as her free hand raised towards him and magic sent him flying back to the ground.

"Nothing to do with you, Dudders," said Alice calmly. The Dursley parents screamed, causing Alice to wince in irritation, especially with her Aunt's shrill voice. "Oh relax, you morons, I only knocked him down, hardly a life threatening injury." Alice rolled her eyes at the horror that played on their faces. Not long ago, Alice Potter had been afraid of these worthless creatures. Knowing that frightened little girl had once been herself was rather humiliating for the new Alice. It also quickly came to her mind that another difference was forming between herself and Lord Voldemort, in that the fear she brought to these enemies so far beneath her did not bring her quite as much pleasure as it would have brought Tom. It had certainly brought her some pleasure, of course, confirming she had gotten some sadistic tendencies from him, but realizing just how far beneath her they were felt like she was doing something wrong.

Morality had never been something Tom Marvolo Riddle much considered in his own actions, even as a child. He had only developed so much as a sense of what he could get in trouble for doing, and how to avoid getting caught doing it. He had even often declared that he did not believe in the concepts of Good and Evil. Alice, however, not quite emotionally prepared to deal with her own feelings on morality merely felt as though she were hurting something like a puppy, helpless to stop her, and that made her feel bad. Not too bad, because she would certainly derive some pleasure in Ripper getting a kick or two, and the Dursleys much more so, but that was all she was prepared to do. For now.

When angry, she had been sure she would be killing the Dursleys, perhaps sparing only Dudley, but now she realized she likely wasn't going to kill any of them. They were just too far beneath her and too helpless to warrant such a thing. This did not seem to please the new half of Alice's personality, so she spent several quiet moments mentally justifying sparing the Dursleys. After all, she had nowhere else to live (thanks mainly to Voldemort ruining every home that had belonged to the Potters) and it would be suspicious if she went missing as the Dursleys turned up dead. Alice sighed and jumped down from the table, feeling her anger dying down. "Now that we've established a new order to things, I'm going to go take a walk, give myself time to think," she said, her voice perfectly normal and even, as though none of this had happened, and it was just some ordinary day. "I expect I'll be back by lunch, at the very latest, to discuss how things will proceed from now on."

Her smile had her aunt cringing, and Alice noticed a little jolt of pleasure at that. Alright, so frightening to death was now a bit beneath her, but a little tremor was still fun. Oh, how she would have to spend some time dealing with what her new self was like. With one last look at them all, she walked out, jumping over Dudley before heading out the front door.

Alice pocketed the kitchen knife, finding overlarge clothes actually did well to hide it. She found herself walking toward Magnolia Road, and stopping at the playground there, taking a seat on a swing and becoming deep in thought. She was the only one there at this time of day, though surely she would be joined by other children soon enough as the morning dragged on.

That was another strange thing Alice noticed about herself, she still thought of other children as being other children, despite memories of an older man in her brain. And yet she still felt awkward in her own body, as though she expected to be older? She was definitely turning out to be an odd child. Some might even think she was a freak.

Alice laughed at the thought. "Maybe I should embrace being a freak," she whispered to herself as she glanced around at the houses that were so much like Private Drive's houses, the cars that were awfully similar to the Dursley's own car. "Normal always did give me the creeps anyways."

Her thoughts drifted back to her fledgling sense of identity. Now that she was calm and thoughtful, it seemed easier to shift through the memories, including those of the old Alice as well as Tom Riddle's. It all started to feel so clear and complete. She began to realize what must have happened that night, so long ago. Lily Potter must have used ancient sacrificial magics Lord Voldemort had never put much thought into to spare her daughter from the murderous Dark Lord. The Killing Curse could not pierce the defenses and rebounded on the castor. Of course, the horcruxes did their job at keeping Voldemort anchored to this world.

From there, Alice could only speculate, but she assumed the combination of magics, and perhaps the weakened state of the Dark Lord's soul after being split into so many pieces, had created some sort of vacuum effect for what was left of that soul. Or perhaps the Killing Curse had left such a bond that Tom Riddle's soul had nowhere else to go while it was lost, detached and confused at his new state. The protective magics of her mother must have kept the souls divided while still bound together. And last night, her magic combined with her mothers protection to shatter what was left of the Dark Lord's willpower and absorb his soul into herself.

And so ended the reign of Lord Voldemort, the most powerful Dark Lord since Grindelwald, if not even greater. "Except his horcruxes are still out there," Alice whispered. "Or rather… My horcruxes." The mysteries of Soul Magic began to dangle around in her mind. One thing about Voldemort going so far, further than anyone else would go, for his immortality was that Alice knew her situation now was very much unique. Nothing like it had ever happened before, and it was terribly unlikely to ever happen again.

So, were the Horcruxes now making her immortal? Or if she ever died, would it leave the pieces of Voldemort's broken soul to linger on after her? Could the Dark Lord be reborn in spirit if she were to die? That thought made Alice grimace. Well, that could not be allowed to happen, so she would just have to follow Tom's footsteps and ensure she became immortal herself.

Could Alice actually make horcruxes on her own, or would Voldemort's soul be part of her own horcruxes too? Alice knew that with one horcrux, she could finally complete the set Voldemort had always yearned for. "I don't really want to live my life fulfilling Tom's ambitions," she whispered disdainfully. As she thought about her third parent killing her first two, she felt an anger growing inside her. Yes, she did not want to be Tom, she was better then him.

That brought her mind to other dangers from Tom's horcruxes. She remembered that the Horcruxes themselves could make a comeback for the Dark Lord. It would not do if she ever had to compete with her spiritual siblings for her life.

"Fine, I should destroy them," she decided, but quickly grumbled over the decision. So many rare and valuable trophies going to waste did not sit well for the collector in her. But she had a thought then, and smiled. "Unless I can rip the soul pieces apart like I did with the one I have." Was that possible? She knew that a soul could be reforged, supposedly by remorse for the actions that created the horcrux in the first place. But perhaps there were other ways to tear the souls out of the objects Voldemort had bound to him?

This could take a while, she knew, but she had plenty of time. Now with a goal in mind for the future, she brought her thoughts back the present. She realized a couple of things about her current situation that only became apparent when she had let her magic simmer down.

Alice Riddle was only a little more powerful magically then Alice Potter had been. She had Tom's strong control of his underage magic, and probably a bit of his magical power helping hers along, but now as she was still, she knew she had already used half her reserves in that little show of force with the Dursleys. Impressive for a child, not impressive for a Dark Lord. She frowned at that, realizing she was going to have to grow into her magic again, like most children. Of course, she had a head start on most magical children with an impressive understanding of wandless magic in her head. She was going to be ever so impressive to the magical world when she finally entered it.

And what had become of the magical world since the end of the Dark Lord's reign? His followers had not come after her, so she could assume Dumbledore was protecting her to some capacity. Perhaps she would have to ask her Aunt and Uncle about that when she returned. The Voldemort side of her brain knew there would have been chaos in the ranks, but was quite sure a few of his followers would have searched for him. Perhaps with his loss, there was a systematic hunt for the Death Eaters? They certainly hadn't carried on without him to go on to take over the country themselves, of that much Alice was sure.

What happened to Bella? Alice had an uncomfortable feeling the woman would not have gone down without a fight, her master's name on her lips to her last breath. Alice shook her head, trying not to think about it.

The most mysterious thing about her memories was just how differently she felt about them compared to Tom Riddle. Everyone the Dark Lord called a friend had never been much more than a tool. Even Bellatrix Lestrange was at best sometimes considered something like a favorite pet on the best of days. As long as she was a good girl, she could get a pat on the head and a bone for a treat. Yes, Bellatrix was like the loyal dog of her master, and she would beg for every treat. Lord Voldemort found the worship and devotion of his follower gratifying to his ego, and incapable of appreciating what Bellatrix felt for him. Alice wanted to take that love and wrap herself in it forever.

That little mental journey made Alice's cheeks go scarlet as she remembered what sorts of 'treats' the Dark Lord allowed Bellatrix to have. Her body and emotional state were much too young to handle those memories. Just then, another memory that connected to such thoughts came to her and gave her pause. She just remembered one of the most important things the Dark Lord had left behind for her to claim as her own.