Summary: Tom Riddle is a newly crowned Lord of the Dark part of Grey Britain as he allies with Dumbledore to fight Grindelwald's Alliance. But one day, his mind is invaded by a new presence. It is not an insidious force, nor a threat to his control. It is a mysterious child who he begins to build a connection with. And he will tear up the country to search for his new enigma.

Chapter One: Triprologue

1980

Location: Azkaban

Nobody noticed that the human doppelgänger with a grime-splattered red head made no sounds, not even to breathe. The guards never really realised anything, thank goodness. For once, it was a very grateful thing that Dementors existed, if only to involuntarily turn a blind eye to doomed, death-bound prisoners.

But the red hummingbird made no noise; she never did, and certainly not in a situation like this one now.

With a strength only possible through many months of assiduous energy conservation, the tiny bird quietly but swiftly rummaged through the copious bundles of clothes to find the furry ushanka cap she had only obtained after yet more months of complaining about the biting cold. It was a thick, crude material, and clearly whichever animal had been skinned to fabricate it had also been both crudely born and crudely killed. However, the frayed hat, so emblematic of the Russian Muzhik and their struggle through Siberian winters, had been sufficiently voluminous and warmth-conserving to fulfil its role.

The hummingbird did not even make a sound as she affectionately watched the gurgling boy squirming in the furry enclaves and unwittingly pushing one of the ear flaps with his flailing arms. Again, with much abnormal strength, the bird sunk its claws as gently as it could into the raven-haired infant, and picked it up, floating in the air. She brought the baby to a man on the other side of her cell first, who had grown exhausted and haggard through his attempts to keep the baby healthy with wandless nutrition spells. The man smiled wanly, kissing the boy on his bare stomach and forehead while a solitary tear ran a melancholy pilgrimage down the side of his unshaven cheek.

"Goodbye... my Harry..."

"-Gah."

The red hummingbird allowed the messy-haired man to lovingly stare at the child one last time before it took off without a sound through the window, like a ghost of wind. The little tyke had fallen conspicuously silent, looking curiously down and up with wide emerald orbs as they flew through the sky.

At last, the bird reached its final destination.

While very little people knew that there were a lot more than just prison cells on the island, and that the dense defensive forests actually held a plethora of different sentient magical creatures, the red hummingbird had always known that one day her child might need refuge mankind could not bring. She flew down a craggy drop, over limpid waters, and into the lair of the Manticore. Manticores never moved their lips to speak, but a rumbling low voice punctuated the air nevertheless.

"...You..."

The hummingbird transformed into a gaunt yet somehow stately woman, who kissed her baby on the forehead as she handed it to the fearsome creature. Of course, she had never planned on befriending a Manticore, but during her battles against Grindelwald it just so happened that the German tyrant had tried to enslave magical creatures without properly recognising their sentience, and the red-haired woman had saved its life. It had been by chance that the woman had heard that the same Manticore had been forced to guard the prison, and before she knew it she and her faction of the Order of the Phoenix had been defeated and sent there too.

"Please, take care of my child. I beg you."

The Manticore gazed at the child babbling on the floor with a sense of wonderment. The woman knew that a proud and dignified creature like a manticore would not mindlessly kill a defenceless infant, regardless of how great or poor their bond with the relevant species may be.

"Very well. Will you be back to collect him?"

The woman only smiled sadly, and the Manticore understood.

"Then I will protect your child and keep him here until one day a powerful enough wizard comes to collect him."

"Thank you."

The woman stepped forward to hug her child one last time, stroking his raven locks tenderly, with tears streaming down her face as even the baby now seemed to realise that something was very very wrong.

"Be safe, my little Harry. Your mama and papa love you."

The baby whimpered as she kissed his cheeks with all the emotion left after eight months in confinement. A loving silence enveloped the half-lit cave, and there was a resigned sense of inevitability and finality to the gaze from both the babe and the mother, but the boy did not cry.

"So his name is Harry."

"-Harrison in full."

"Then farewell, good Lady."

A red hummingbird flew back whence it came, filling the air with a doleful tune. She arrived and transformed back just in time, as not a moment after her doppelgänger had been vanished a brutal knock came on the door and they were pulled out by the human guards. She smiled confirmingly at her husband, who seemed to finally breathe a huge sigh of relief, and they were led out into the courtyard to their execution.

1980

Location: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Albus Dumbledore stood grimly as his fellow members sobbed at the news. Gellert Grindelwald had finally completed the execution, after Dumbledore had refused to hand himself in to be killed in exchange for his soldiers. Perhaps in another world Dumbledore would have been able to sacrifice himself, but in this one he knew he had to keep living on so that his Blood Pledge with Gellert could protect Hogwarts and therefore give Britain and Europe its only hope.

Nobody blamed him for anything, mostly because they didn't know the full details of what Gellert had written to him in that letter following the dreadful day. Not even when the names were read out did anyone look to blame him for what was really his strategic failure to get his soldiers out in time.

Edgar Bones

Frank Longbottom

Alice Longbottom

Gideon Prewett

Fabian Prewett

James Potter

Lily Potter

May their souls rest in peace.

Seven brutal beheadings, seven lives jeopardized by a fatal communications error, seven family members snatched away in a far-off land before they could return home and wish their loved ones goodbye.

Albus was interrupted in his rather morose musing by a loud sob from Molly Weasley née Prewett, who had lost two brothers. A grief-wracked McGonagall draped a trembling arm over the newly pregnant woman's shoulders; they were loyal followers, but still ones he had not informed of the true complexity of the issue at hand. That was a good thing too, considering the personal connections they had to the pieces he had sacrificed to Gellert to fight another day. Only three people knew he had been asked by Gellert to place himself in their stead: Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Severus Snape, the latter of whom only became aware because he had been asked to look through his letter and check it for curses. Albus had never expected a real letter from Gellert, after all these years, or Severus would not have been aware.

He subtly averted his no-longer twinkling eyes towards his silently grieving Potions master, and found his gaze already returned back with tenfold severity. He sighed and turned away almost sheepishly. He knew that as the miserable morning broke, so did the sun set on Severus' loyal relationship to him. Albus had lost more than one when Lily Potter was executed, but did nothing, as arousing attention at this point was ill-advised. The man would continue teaching and would not harm students, no matter to whom his allegiance may be, for Severus was not a fundamentally evil man.

Hmm, Albus wondered if he would turn his loyalty over to the rising Lord Voldemort.

That was the one loose end he had to sort out before fully pursuing Gellert. Tom Riddle had become a dangerously influential man, and Albus knew he could not afford to make an enemy in him yet- if Voldemort sided with Gellert, Britain would be destroyed.

Luckily Gellert Grindelwald had a disdain for the youth and an even worse pedigree for sharing than Dumbledore himself.

So that would be his next step. He knew Voldemort would not want to take the full attention of Grindelwald while he was not stabilised yet, so Dumbledore would offer him a little less than half of Britain in return for his support in the war against Germany, but keeping the Ministry and Hogwarts as his own territory. Voldemort was many things, but he was not stupid. Unless Gellert somehow managed to suddenly get over his overwhelmingly arrogant pride, Voldemort would accept his deal, gaining recognition and resources which elevated him to a desirably novel standing as a global leader, but without denting Dumbledore's strength significantly.

There would be backlash in the Order that he was allying with an openly Dark ruler, but that was inconsequential. They would follow his word if he enforced it, and certainly if he laced his first speech with emotive arguments that Grindelwald's presence meant they couldn't possibly stop Voldemort from massacring muggles and muggleborns if they were not allied to keep him in check. It was the sensible thing to do from all angles, really. All of them knew what the Dark Lord might do and the dangers that could entail. Dumbledore planned to limit communication between the two sides as they held their alliance- which he doubted Voldemort would oppose.

He sent off Fawkes with his drafted proposal, not aware of a certain member watching intently. Dumbledore was not the only one who kept his secrets; Severus Snape also knew something which no one else did. For while in the pre-mission blood test all had seemed normal, a week later Snape had noticed that the colour of the solution had changed ever so slightly.

Lily had been in the early stages of pregnancy.

And so Severus Snape grieved not only for the woman who had befriended him at Spinner's End all those years ago, but also for her child, who would have been born a few months into her confinement. He wondered if maybe, just maybe, the lack of an extra name on a list of casualties meant the baby had never been found. It could have been stillborn, or perhaps it died shortly after its birth in grim conditions. Or maybe the ingenious Lily Potter had managed to save it? He thought about what he would do if a junior Lily was brought to their doorstep one day, what he would teach the child, how much they would be like their mother.

-But it did not do to dwell on such thoughts. There was no way either the dementors or Grindelwald would spare an heir to rebels. The baby was surely dead before it ever got to experience life.

A single, unaccompanied tear fell silently on the ground, as lonely as Severus Snape in that moment.

1980

Location: Schloss Brunhilde

A young-looking man appeared out of nowhere, enveloped in shadows cast by the looming fortress and holding a black leather notebook. He forensically scrutinised the infamous Schloss Brunhilde, which had been converted to a torture dungeon under the rule of Grindelwald. The castle's stones were as grey as one would expect, but a faint sheen of dark magic swirled around its outer walls; the building itself was cut in harsh, angular lines, as if its opulent beauty had been conquered by an oppressive power and forced within boundaries.

"Hmm...how tasteless..."

Tom Riddle was beckoned by the Vampire at the door to come in and meet their Lord. He obliged without betraying any of his condescension towards the half-breed, wondering how such a grandiose leader could keep such unsavory company. It had not even bothered to wipe the fresh human blood off its chin.

Yes, Voldemort held no false optimism towards the alliance he was to propose. It was still a risk worth taking, given how much better it would be to ally with Grindelwald than a man he loathed, like Albus Dumbledore. But somehow he doubted he would get an offer better than Dumbledore's forty percent of Britain from a hubristic tyrant like Grindelwald, and he wasn't about to let emotions get in the way of what was a mathematically worthy concession just because it came from his ultimate enemy.

"Mr Riddle! Welcome to my temporary residence Schloss Brunhilde! I trust it is to your tastes, as a new Dark Lord?"

"It is an honour, Lord Grindelwald. And yes, it is quite… dramatic."

Grindelwald grinned, and there was still no smile in his eyes. "Would you care for a glass of my best wine? Sang d'Or."

Voldemort was again wary of the garishness of the Dark Lord hosting him. It was utterly suspicious, and Golden Blood was far too melodramatic for a wine name. But he could not refuse it. Dumbledore, whatever his hideously disguised machinations may have been, was right to assume that Voldemort knew his limits and would not challenge Grindelwald alone for some time.

"Certainly... wine can do."

Grindelwald smiled emptily once more, and poured a glass for him as he started to speak.

"Mr Riddle… son to a noble witch and a muggle, yes? Would you not wish for them to live side-by-side with you in this world, your father in justified awe of your magical prowess, where you could help each other live life to the fullest?"

For the first time ever, Lord Voldemort acknowledged that perhaps there could conceivably be someone he hated more than Albus Dumbledore. At least the ancient crackpot did his background research annoyingly well enough to not insult a guest so openly.

"My father… was not a good type of Muggle. There are other goals which would be, more desirable, shall we say."

Grindelwald laughed. "Ah yes, he was not the good type, was he? Love potions did not do the trick, in the end."

It was all Voldemort could do not to narrow his eyes, which were rapidly turning crimson in rage. Grindelwald was not acting stupid, he was just simply refusing to show any semblance of respect for him. The more prominent Dark Lord continued.

"Did you see the news about Azkaban? My men got seven of Dumbledore's most trusted soldiers. Seven! They took out fifty of my better-trained foot soldiers and three of my trusted lieutenants, but we have a lot more followers so it's a crippling victory for us. Now, of course, all seven have been executed."

Voldemort had seen the news. It was an impressive feat- almost too impressive.

"Well, you certainly have your men well trained. Only fifty three casualties- it is quite miraculous looking at the names of the ones you got."

But Grindelwald suddenly shook his head and frowned. "No actually, as much as I would wish it. There was a mistake on their side and they got cornered. If they were prepared and it was an open battle, we would have lost many more men. They were supposed to Portkey out but the controllers of the mission did not coordinate everything right; as much as it surprises me, it seems old Albus has finally committed a grave error."

A half-raised glass stopped on the way to Voldemort's lips.

"A grave error, by Albus Dumbledore..." all semblance of questioning was ruthlessly erased from his tone, even though he was quite in actuality surprised.

"Yes, grave indeed."

"-But not fatal."

"...Unfortunately not. Yet, as I'm sure you understand, such things can be easy tipping points in a close-fought war."

"Indeed they can."

There was an electric silence, as Voldemort lifted the wine to sip in cold anticipation. Grindelwald's eyes hardened alongside him as the first drops entered his lips.

"Now, about your offer of an alliance, I hope you realise that Hogwarts and Britain are very important to me as the last vestiges of everything Albus has created… Azkaban, for example, I will always preserve as a symbol of my superiority and my leadership in Britain."

Voldemort's nostrils flared faintly, but he said nothing.

"Now, I was wondering if you might be interested in taking Southern France instead. It is also a very large territory, and of course rich in resources."

Voldemort swirled his wine in his cup two-and-a-half times before speaking up.

"As you are aware, my home country is Britain, and it has represented everything to me as I have ascended right up from a disgusting Muggle orphanage to the top of the country. Furthermore, all my greatest followers are British pureblood families. Trying to get them to move with me to the South of France will be untenable and presumptuous."

Grindelwald nodded. "Then can I offer you the role of leading the Alliance as its paramount leader in Britain. You will have nobody superior to you other than myself, and they will assist you in controlling the country."

"I have no plans to play leader to the men of another King, Lord Grindelwald."

"-I thought so."

Voldemort widened his eyes almost incredulously as Grindelwald reached for his wand. The man surely was not going to attempt to kill a potential enemy.

"My apologies, I can't have you running off to Albus now, can I?"

"CONFRINGO!"

As Grindelwald dodged the wandless blast, Voldemort drew out his notebook quickly. Grindelwald smiled arrogantly.

"What will that do for you? You have been poisoned so your powers will leave you soon- not to say that you could defeat me anyway."

"Poisoning the wine of your guest? How indecorous."

"It had to be done, nothing else to say."

"Well goodbye then, Lord Grindelwald."

Voldemort was the one smiling now, as he quickly scribbled out the words Malfoy Manor on his notebook.

"Have you ever heard of anti-apparition and portkey wards, my friend?" Grindelwald mocked.

"Have you ever heard of ward-ripping portkeys, Lord Grindelwald?"

"What?"

There was a tremendous BANG, and Voldemort at once stood back in familiar territory at home. He summoned his house elf and told her to fetch him a bezoar and a medical expert, but he was not concerned as he knew that Grindelwald would not give him a seriously fatal poison while he was trying to secure a subordinate. He did have to find out, however, which spell Grindelwald had used to mask the poison so effectively. That would be useful knowledge.

Now it was time to accept Dumbledore's deal. Grindelwald definitely had to go first. Voldemort planned to mark Azkaban as soon as he was secure enough and could find a suitable spell. Grindelwald would have no business in his territory.

And so do three strands connect, and a tale is ready to be woven.

Notes: I never thought I was such an ambitious writer. This plot is audaciously complex, and it will be a serious challenge for me to deliver. I hope you can stick to the end!

Reviews are so much appreciated because it is difficult for me to know if I have gotten the balance right on this challenging plot! Please spend a moment if you can.

As for the timeline, it should be quite obvious but just imagine everything else is the same but Dumbledore and Grindelwald were born twenty years or so later than in Rowling's books.