Issues of Magic

by noctisxsol

Magic is a strange and uncontrollable beast, one small thing changes and who knows what can result. Actually, I do. Madness. Complete, utter, and hilarious madness. Everything that can go wrong with Voldemort's Resurrection. Crack. One-shot.

Issues of Magic

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and am not making money off of these stories.

My particular brand of madness has infected the realm of Harry Potter. The series is fun enough, but Rowling very much did not think things through, and the magic system soft enough to spread over a croissant. Let's accept it, make fun of it, and all have a good laugh. Unconnected one-shots for funsies. Crack and other absurdities abound.

Text key

"speaking" "thinking" "Spell Name" -Scene info-

-Chapter 1: Everything That Can Go Wrong With Voldemort's Resurrection-

-Chapter 1.1: Wormtail is a Wimp-

-Chapter 1.2 Cauldron Thickness-

-Chapter 1.3 Flesh, Bone, and Blood of the servant Given Stupidly-

-Chapter 1.4 Bone of the Grandfather-

-Chapter 1.5 Blood of the enemy taken Kink-ily-

-Chapter 1.1 Peter Pettigrew Acting More in Line With his Character-

Harry opened his eyes and took in the scene around him. Evening had set in, and he was surrounded by graves, one of which he was tied to. The only light came from the fire heating a potion that Peter Pettigrew was tending. "Ah, you're awake. The Dark Lord wanted to wait for you witness this, his ultimate revival." The man revealed Voldemort's ugly, babyish frame as if it were a weapon of mass destruction waiting to be unleashed, before dumping it into the potion. "All that remains are the final, crucial ingredients and the Master will again be restored to his full strength. First… Bone of the Father… unknowingly taken… then… flesh… of the servant… willingly given!"

Wormtail grabbed a specially prepared knife and sliced off his hand, dropping it into the pot. The potion changed from the violent blue hue to a violent red. The man himself fell to his knees in pain and shock. He fumbled for a rag to tie off the would, but couldn't manage to knot it without having to grab one end of the rag with his teeth. This brought his face two inches away from where the stump was gushing blood. That is to say, he couldn't bring himself to do it. As the shock and pain faded away, the realization of what he was looking at struck him more and more. "I-I-I forgive me master, I need to lay down for a bit… I'm feeling a touch woozy…"

Wormtail, Peter Pettigrew, the socially awkward sycophant, was extremely squeamish at the sight of blood. One might have thought that a Dark Lord would take things like this into consideration, and perhaps have the whole chopping off the hand be the last thing needed; but Voldemort apparently had much bigger things to worry about than if his underlings fainted at the sight of blood.

That left Harry watching Pettigrew, the one who betrayed his parents, who ultimately led to him becoming an orphan, bleed out from a self-inflicted wound in service to a master who would not be revived that night. After learning about the rat had done, and seeing him kill Cedrick, he considered it poetic justice. "Now, I'm tied up, Voldemort is trapped in that cauldron, and Wormtail is knocked out. how am I supposed to get out of here?"

-Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch-

Barty Crouch Junior could barely contain himself as he waited for his master to arrive. Moody's eye had ley him see Potter and Diggory grab the cup, but a single extra child would be no match for his master, even in his weakened state. He had no doubt that the ritual was completed by now. Any second his Dark Mark would burn signaling that his master's call. After that, it would only be few more minutes while the Dark Lord shows his superiority over the boy, and the portkey would bring the full force of the Dark Lord right into the heart of Hogwarts for a decisive first blow.

And it would start… any minute now… soon… soon…

"What's taking that incompetent fool so long? Surely even he was able to deal with two mere children when he was the master at his side… Unless… No, I must have confidence in the master."

The disguised Death Eater reached for his flask to take another swig of Polyjuice, but came up dry. He had planned to not need it anymore after today, so he didn't have any in reserve either. An ugly scowl formed on his face. He needed to get to Little Hangleton to make sure that the ritual was a success.

"Alastor. How are they doing?"

Barty froze. Dumbledore had an eye on him. If he left now, things would surely end up worse than now. He had to throw the old man off the trail. "Potter is getting close, as is the Diggory. One of them should have it soon." He couldn't keep up the act this close to either fruition or failure. He had to get away.

"Do you have any clues as to who cast the Imperius on Mr. Krum?"

The man bit back a curse as he felt the first signs of the potion wearing off. The old headmaster's questions were a little too perceptive. There was only one move left for him to make. "I have an idea, but first I need to use the bathroom."

The impostor tried to make his escape, but his slip-up cost him. Dumbledore caught him with a silent stunning spell before a second had passed. "You thought you were so clever, didn't you? with your near perfect imitation of my old friend, you almost had me fooled. But you gave yourself away at the end; Only an evil imposter would use words like "Bathroom" everyone who's on the side of the light knows that it's only ever properly called "The Loo."

-Graveyard, Little Hangleton-

Harry was officially bored. At first he was scared, but that passed after the first two minutes of nothing happening but the potion slowly becoming less vivid. He tried being angry for a while, but that didn't help get the ropes off. Then he turned to meditation. He had time to reach inner peace, understand that all of reality is simply a dream, realize the secrets of the universe, and get slapped back into his own universe by dimensional police. The thought crossed him mind whether someone would come and find him, or if he would be stuck here until he wasted away enough to slip out of his ropes. "Not that that would take very long, but my arms are already asleep, and those pins and needles are going to terrible by the time I can escape."

-Back at Hogwarts-

"Severus, get the Veritassium. We have ourselves a dirty spy."

The potions master grimaced. The Headmaster was in one of his moods again. He would need to inform everyone about the dangers of the muggle cinema at the next staff meeting. Still, questioning people was fun, and about as close as he could get to actually teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Severus, we will take care of this using the classic good muggle policeman, bad muggle policeman. You will be the good muggle policeman." Snape hating playing the good auror. He spent so much time practicing his bad Auror that it really felt like he was unappreciated when he was made to play the nice one.

Dumbledore entered the room first. "Have a lemon drop, scumbag. Oh, you don't want a sweet? You should've thought about that before you decided to be evil. Here on the light side, we don't care if you don't like sweets, or want an uncomfortable stool; you'll be comfortable and pampered and like it!"

Severus swept in, cloak billowing. "It's terrible, I know, but we are not unreasonable. If you cooperate, we will send you to Azkaban to be Kissed instead of forcing you to remain on staff and continue teaching these little monsters."

Barty attempted to choke himself with the lemon drop. Dumbledore was well known for his ruthless hospitality. Snape's offer was tempting, but he would endure even a pleasant chat with tea for his master!

-Graveyard, Little Hangleton-

"Bloody Hell! Shad! We got one live and two dead out here. Looks like a chap went mad and was trying to do some witchcraft."

"You sure he's dead, Matt? He probably just took some drugs that knocked him out."

"The bloke lopped off his own hand! There's blood everywhere!"

Shad cursed. "First that creepy snake with the smoke, then some bonkers cultist. What were they up to here?"

Matt shuddered. "Yeah, that snake was unnatural. How did you deal with it?"

"Used to live in Australia, Mate. You need something with reach that can pin the thing, and something to cut the head off. You'll learn quick to always keep a knife ready. Picked this beauty up from a strange kid rooting around in the old Gaunt place. Stays wicked sharp."

"Ahem." Harry cleared his throat to get the attention of the two police. "Could you tell me where I am? I was on my way to visit my gramps and the batty codger came out of nowhere and knocked me and Cedrick out. He ranting about some weird stuff before breaking open the grave and cutting off his own hand. I think he was about to kill me! He already killed Cedrick! You have to let me go!"

The two policemen looked at each other before shrugging. Shad set to work freeing Harry, while Matt checked the bleeding Wormtail.

The moment Harry was free he started rustling through the grass for his wand under the pretense of looking for his wallet. When he finally found it, he miled sadly. "You guys really deserve a promotion for this, but Steupefy!"

With the two police men down for the count, he could take stock of the situation. Peeking into the cauldron, he saw a bloodless cadaver surrounded by the black mist of Voldemort's soul futilely trying to make its new body move and live.

Harry grimaced and moved on to the traitor. His pulse was weak, but present. Nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix; he'd be ready for trial within a day.

Looking around, harry made a snap decision. "Accio Cedrick. Accio Wormtail. Accio Portkey."

-Back at Hogwarts-

Barty Crouch was on his second dose of Veritassium, and third glass of Firewiskey. "It's not fair, it 'aint. I made this genius plan that hinged on a convoluted set of circumstances, and somehow pulled it off despite all logic. Aren't I entitled to a victory for that? Isn't that how you win these things? I mean, I probably could've just gotten access to the children's rooms to hold a surprise attack as part of training, and the old gezer would've let me. I could've done any of a dozen simpler and better ways, but I chose the most convoluted and likely to fail, because what great Evil Villains deserve!" He drained the contents of his fourth glass and held it out for a refill. "All because the Pitygrews too bad at potions, I'm stuck here cavorting with you! Dark Magic is more power the more complex it is, he said. Magic won't let the master fail, he said. It's necessary for a good plot, he said. Look where it has me now! Grading papers and getting a hangover!"

Snape leaned on the other man's shoulder. "I should know better than anyone! The snot-nosed brats don't even realize the possibility of their cauldron reacting with their potions! It's like they don't want to learn magic!"

Dumbledore stood up, entirely shitfaced despite only having one glass of the drink so far. "You'ze gaes thinks yous haz it hard? Tri rumming the scbool, the baebies in da minishtry, an refushing to tell anniewan anytin important."

Their commiseration was suddenly interrupted by McGonigal slamming the door open. "Headmaster! Potter has returned! We must hurry to-" The Deputy Headmisstress stopped in her tracks when she saw the state of the three men. "Headmaster… How drunk are you?"

"Eyes onwee had won dwink!" The old man held up what he figured to be one finger. It was hard to tell with the way everything was moving without his permission.

Minerva shook her head in disappointment. "Nevermind Headmaster. I'll take care of it myself."

-Epilogue-

"So then Professor McGonigal sealed Voldemort's remaining soul into a phylactery until we figure out what kept him from dying. Dumbledore knows, but he still flinches at the quietest sound, so no one can really ask him."

Ron gaped as the story came to a close. "Bloody Hell Harry. What do you thing would've happened if Pettigrew didn't pass out?"

Harry just shrugged. "Knowing wizards? Something stupid and contrived with Dumbledore completely failing to provide the simple answers that would fix problems. All I know is, with Pettigrew back, Sirius is getting a pardon. And that means no more Dursleys, no matter what mumbo-jumbo Dumbledore cooks up to keep me there."

Hermione slammed her book down with the same sort of cry that every child has when they realize that Santa isn't real. "He can… He really can…"

Ron was about to say something, but Harry beat him to the punch. "With Dumbledore? The man can get away with anything he wants. We already have one former Death Eater teaching us in Snape; Why wouldn't he decide to hire a current Death Eater?"

"He's not in any of the records!" Hermione threw up her hands. "He tried to kill you, he killed Cedrick, but Dumbledore can hire him because it was technically his first offense!"

Harry awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. "There there. Maybe the curse will take care of him before next year."

Unfortunately, Ron just couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Won't it be two different people though, since Moody taught us this year, then Crouch'll teach us next year."

Hermione began wailing.

-End-

-Chapter 1.2 Percy's Report was Foreshadowing-

Harry's eyes flickered open. His last memory was Pettigrew killing Cedrick. The thought jolted him to wakefulness and set him to investigating his surrounds for the situation and possible ways out.

Pettigrew was giving some evil spiel, but Harry wasn't listening. The ropes binding him were poorly tied, and he might be able to slip out of them, but he needed time and a chance to escape afterwards.

The plan came together the moment Harry noticed the manufacturer's stamp on the side of the cauldron. Maceta Cauldrons, the makers of Neville's frequently failing cauldrons, and the number one cause for Percy Weasley's "Report on Cauldron Thickness". A quick glance was all it took to confirm that Peter Pettigrew's skill in potions was not superior to Neville's, and Harry knew it was only a matter of time before the pot failed. Since whatever he was brought here for obviously revolved around the potion, Wormtail would need to immediately go and get another cauldron, as well as more ingredients. It would be the perfect opportunity to escape.

He was startled out of his contemplations when the grave he was tied to split open for a bone to fly out and enter the pot, changing its color. Realizing that he didn't have much time Harry started talking. "Wormtail, why are you doing this?"

The older man paused to answer. "I-I have to! I don't have any other choice! Black would kill me if I went back, and everyone would be hunting me if anyone knew I was alive! The Dark Lord is the only one that can keep me safe!"

Harry shook his head. "What you're doing is the opposite of keeping yourself safe. You're making yourself a target. Voldemort is going to start a war. In war, people don't fight fair, seek out equals, duel one-on-one: They go in packs and try to kill the weakest enemies first." Pettigrew was stuttering up a storm and the knife in his hand was shaking so hard that he almost dropped it into the cauldron. "You thought that joining a stronger side would keep you safe, but people without the will to stand for something will never be safe at any time."

Peter stood there shaking at the boy's words before the hissing of a snake startled him back into action. "I-I-I, I can't run anymore! The Dark Lord would kill me now too! I'd never escape!"

Harry just sighed. "You're the man who managed to hide for over a decade by pretending to be a normal rat. Just leave now, turn into a rat, and there are millions of places you can hide. Heck, you could board a ship and flee to the continent and never be seen again. You could probably even walk around as a human out there too, it's not like anyone would recognize you. Actually, you could probably go walking around as a human most places in Britain and no one would recognize you. It's been over a decade, you look different and most people aren't even looking for you! At most you might get one or two people who think that you look vaguely like someone they used to know."

This time Wormtail did drop the knife, and practically threw himself to the ground to retrieve it, the snake constantly circling him as if making sure that he wouldn't run. "N-N-N-No! I-I-I-I'm loyal! I'll do it!" At that he pulled himself back to him feet and cut off his own hand before Harry had another chance to make him hesitate. The potion changed color again, but Harry could already see a bulge forming, telling him that he only needed just a bit more time before the cauldron completely failed.

By the time Pettigrew had wrapped him stump in a rag and staggered to his feet, Harry had already started the countdown to the failure of the Cauldron. "10, 9."

"Blood… of the enemy…"

Before Peter was able to cut the boy, Harry spoke up again. "Don't forget that you owe me your life." "8, 7" "I told Sirius and Remus not to kill you, but to make sure that you stood trial." "6, 5" "Is this how you seek to repay that debt? Especially after you betrayed my parents?" "4, 3"

The knife wavered at above the boy's skin. "2"

Wormtail grit his teeth and drew the knife back. "1"

He swung the knife. "0"

The weapon stopped right before piercing Potter's skin as an unholy screeching filled the air. Baby Voldemort had slipped out the hole as the cauldron completely failed and pulled itself apart. "PETTIGREW YOU USELESS PILE OF FILTH! I told you not to skimp for any part of this ritual! I told you to get the good cauldron, but noooo, you know better. 'Master, we can't afford to feed you pure unicorn blood. Master, we can't just kill all the people in the village because you're bored. Master, If we go for the top of the line cauldron, we won't have enough for my food.' Well look at where we are now! I hope eating was worth losing a hand." Voldemort's grotesque baby body gave a horrible, yet still effective sneer. "Now hurry off to get replacements for everything. And no cheaping out this time!" As if to accent the command the snake wrapped itself around the cowardly wizard. "And I'll be sending Nagini to be certain that you do as I commanded this time. She will punish you if you even think of running."

The rat-like wizard paled and vanished with a crack, taking the snake with him. That, of course, left Harry tied to a gravestone alone with the Baby Voldemort lying on the ground.

"So, Babymort, would you like to pass the time ranting and raving about your evil plan? I've been subjected to so many that I find it the perfect white noise by now."

"Only if you kick me my wand. It's over there by your foot."

"Can't quite reach it, give me a minute to try to wiggle a bit more space out."

"Sure, take your time. Not like I can do anything to stop you without a wand…"

-Diagon Alley-

"Sir! You're bleeding! Here, take my arm, I'll get you to St. Mungo's and get you patched up right away!"

"Oh my! How terrible! That's why I never apparate. You never know when something could cause you to lose you your focus and suddenly you're missing a hand! Here Dearie, take a blood refreshing potion, it'll get you to the hospital."

"Whoa, hold up there Old Chap! Let me help you with that! No, no need to explain or thank me, I can guess what happened. You surprise the missus in the middle of making dinner, cutting spell goes awry, and suddenly it's your fault that dinner is ruined and you need to rebuy everything without even a kiss on the cheek!"

Pettigrew felt lightheaded with happiness. The people were so helpful! And no one even recognized him as the supposedly long dead friend of the Potters. Everything was going to be just fine!

A bite from Nagini pulled him back to reality and the realization that the lightheadedness was from blood loss, not happiness.

After drinking the potion that the helpful witch had given him, he refocused on the task him master had set him at. "I found an old battered trunk that carry everything for Master. Now all I have left is to buy a top of the line cauldron and all of the needed ingredients on a budget of one sickle and three knuts." The laughter from the store clerk at the potions shop told him that that wasn't going to happen. "Plan B it is then!"

Plan B was to go to Gringotts and try to withdraw the needed money either from his own vault, or the vault of his master. The real trouble began the moment he stood before the teller. With a sneer the goblin held out his hand. "Your key?"

Peter broke out in a cold sweat. He hadn't thought about that before that very moment. He had left his key behind with his wand when he faked his own death. Even if he could find his key, all the contents had probably been put into the Pooter, Black, and Lupin vaults. His master hadn't given him the key for the Vault-Demort, so even if there was anything in that one either, it would do him no good.

The goblin's hand suddenly lashed out and Pettigrew gave a squeal and tumbled backwards, leaving Nagini in the teller's fierce grip.

"Hmm, I see. The key for the Riddle vault." The goblin pulled the key out of the snake's mouth before tossing the snake into a magical cage behind the counter. "I must let you know that there are restrictions on withdrawals from that vault. There is a daily limit of ten galleons, and we will be sending an owl to Mr. Riddle. Do you wish to withdraw that much?"

Pettigrew stuttered his response, before giving up and nodding. "What's going to happen to the snake?"

The goblin sneered. "Wizards and Witches that violate the 'no familiars' policy of Gringotts have until sundown to bring payment equal to three galleons, or the beast will be slaughtered and harvested."

The snake attempted to lash out at the goblin, but ran into a magical barrier. Stymied in its attempts, it took to glaring at the rat animagus instead. Pettigrew shuddered as he realized that it would already cost the full ten galleons to buy what was needed for the potion, and that was if he was lucky. The master would simply need to buy back his familiar once he returned to full power…

-Riddle Manor-

"Mr. Mort, I believe I found where the root of all your mental problems really lies." Wormtail gaped at the scene in front of him. Harry had somehow managed to acquire a beard and cigar and was smoking as he spoke to the Baby Voldemort was telling his life's story. Both of them were sitting on cushy furnite that had been dragged out of the mansion. "The snakes, the mass murder of helpless muggles, the torture of your servants; it's all a classic case of an Inferiority cum Oedipus Complex. The snakes are an obvious phallic symbol, but your ability to deal with them came from your mother's family. In your subconscious mind, you already have a strong link between phallic objects and your mother. This surely turned into an inferiority complex when you realized that your mother didn't love you enough to stay alive in order to raise you after your father left her. This made you feel inadequate as a man, and thus you overcompensated, first with the basilisk, then with Nagini. It wasn't a coincidence that your first kill was by the use of your overcompensating phallic object. Your subconscious mind drove you to that girl's restroom.

"Then, still feeling unsatisfied and inferior, you decided to show your superiority by killing your father. But without the ability to plow your mother, you went down a dark path. And just look at you now! Would you have taken a form like this if you did not long to do inappropriate things to your mother? In conclusion, I advise you to take a trip to the seediest part of Knockturn alley, find a witch that desperately needs money to support the child she just had, and get it all out in some immensely creepy role-play."

The mental image almost made Pettigrew wretch, but he had a duty to fulfil for his master. Either than or he owed the guy at least this much for accidentally getting him familiar captured by goblins and possibly eaten. He got to work immediately on the potion.

"Two eyes of newt… One liver of toad… two tablespoons of snips and snails… two point six puppy dog tails… three cups of chopped nirnroot… half a weight of vampire dust… Ten pounds of Splenda… and sixteen packets of Kool-aid… Okay, now we're ready to begin again. Bone of the father, unwittingly taken. Flesh of the servant… Willingly… Oh, ummm… How am I supposed to hold the knife?"

Harry patted him on the shoulder. "Have you considered holding it in your mouth?"

Peter's eyes lit up. "Yes, that will work, thank you!" He put his wand down on the grass and gripped the handle of the knife tightly with his teeth. The position was awkward for the man, but he managed to cut off his second hand and let it drop into the pot. He screamed in pain as he was fully de-armed, and the knife fell into the cauldron.

"Oh, well, that's too bad. I guess you won't be able to complete the ritual without any hands, now will you?" Peter turned to Harry and gaped as the boy held him at double wand point. "Pity that. Now, I have two choices to offer you. You can either sit down, tell me how you feel, or you can try to run and I'll get to finish what Remus and Sirius started last year."

Wormtail squeaked.

-Epilogue-

A swarm of owls swooped through the great hall delivering the latest breaking news to the wizarding world. Hermione took one look before snatching the paper up to read the front page story as soon as possible. Ron peeked over her shoulder, and broke down into a fit of hysterical laughter, much to the muggle-born's displeasure. "This is serious Ron, who knows what this could lead to. Hags are dangerous creatures, you know."

Ron only laughed harder.

Similar peals of laughter came from all around the great hall, with the notable exception of Slytherin. Finally Harry could restrain his curiosity. "What is it!? Did Skeeter go mad or something?"

With a frown, Hermione turned the front page to face him. Bold yellow letters proclaimed, "YOU-KNOW-WHO ADOPTED BY HAG!" Below it the caption read, "She claims 'He could be such a sweet boy, if only he were raided proper.'" The picture showed the infant Voldemort being cuddled by the most hideous woman that Harry had ever seen.

He couldn't help it. Harry snickered.

Hermione just frowned even harder. "Honestly. This is serious. Hags eat children, you know. Imagine what would happen if she did that!"

Ron was barely able to pull his laughter down to a giggle. "She'd had a bloody bad case of indigestion, I'd wager. Maybe she'd fart out his ghost and we can trap it."

Harry turned back to his breakfast with a smile. Who would've thought that Percy's report on Cauldron thickness would indirectly save the world…

-End-

-Chapter 1.3 It Was Only Supposed to Be Flesh!-

Harry watched on in horror as Peter Pettigrew conducted the ritual to resurrect the worst dark lord known to wizard-kind. The man raised the knife. "Flesh of the servant… Willingly… given!" He cut off his own hand and let it drop into the pot.

The moment the severed appendage hit the surface of the potion, it began to boil and soon exploded in the face of the shocked animagus. Voldemort was returned to flesh.

The villain rose from his crouch in the cauldron, then seemed to stop. A moment of more of observation told Harry what had happened. Harry had been expecting the new body to have the same skeletal, elongated frame that the baby held. Instead the monster that rose from the cauldron was rather short and unimpressive.

"Wormtail." The voice that leaked out of the creature was thin and reedy. "What did I tell you about the flesh that you were to offer?" Harry had heard the voice before. It wasn't the voice he had heard from the back of Quirrel's head, nor the one he heard from the diary two years ago.

"Y-Y-You said to remove my hand, my lord."

Harr's eye's shot wide open as all of the pieces came together. Voldemort was back, but his body was a duplicate of Peter's.

"I told you to remove some flesh from your hand! Not the whole thing! My body was to be constructed with bone, flesh, and blood taken from three different sources. You foolishly decided to remove your whole hand with bone, flesh, and blood included. Even my magic recoils at the thought of remaining in this form; I can barely summon a tenth of it." Pettimort, As Harry decided to dub him, gave off a string of curses in Parselmouth. The boy learned some new words that he could use to describe uncle Vernon, among many other colorful phrases that could have made a sailor blush. Finally the man ran our of curses and calmed himself down. "I suppose this form will suffice until I can get a more competent servant to do it correctly. Now, your arm Wormtail. I need to summon my more… useful servants."

Within a minute the graveyard was filled with dark robed figures. They all shuffled around nervously before Lucius Malfoy removed his mask to glare at the Pettimort. "What kind of joke is this, Pettigrew? Where is the Dark Lord?"

Before the reincarnated wizard could respond, another voice interrupted. "Bloody- It's a trap! There's a second Pettigrew here!"

Lucius's eye's went wide. "Polyjuice! Avada Kedavra!"

Pettimort would not be put down so easily. He just barely managed to slip to the side of it and respond with a killing curse of his own. The dark wizard sneered. "The traitorous Lucius Malfoy will be the first to die at the hand of the resurrected Voldemort."

When the light hit the blonde, the unthinkable happened: nothing. The spell didn't have enough power behind it to kill. Pettigrew's pathetic frame didn't channel the power and hate to do more than give the blonde a nosebleed.

Any thoughts of this being the actual Voldemort died at that display. Curses of all kinds flew at Pettimort from the Circle of Death Eaters that now surrounded him. The dark wizard was able to dodge many of them and respond with moderately powerful cutting and blasting curses in tandem with attacks by his pet snake.

In the flurry of flying spells, a stray blasting curse destroyed the headstone that Harry was bound to, leaving him free to crawl away.

Pettimort put up a valiant struggle, even managing to kill a number of his traitorous followers directly and indirectly before they learned not to cast spells directly at the other side of the circle. However, he never had a chance when he was fighting against ruthless foes who vastly outnumbered him, especially with only a fraction of his magical power available to him. His shield broke and a cutting curse removed his wand hand. Seeing their enemy disarmed, the Death Eaters closed in and rained killing curses on him. Crabbe even went so far as to summon fiendfyre over the body to be sure that nothing was left, tossing the snake in as well, just to be sure.

Voldemort was naught but a formless spirit once more.

-Hogwarts-

Barty crouch watched the spot where Potter had disappeared barely contained glee. He felt the burning of the Dark Mark, meaning it would only be a few minutes before his master would appear and take Hogwarts in a devastating first strike.

Then the burning stopped, and the mark faded to a pale gray.

He responded like any reasonable adult who had spent the last year teaching children and setting up a convoluted plan for the resurrection of a dark lord who would take over the world. "Thing is BLOODY DRAGON DUNG! VOLDEMORT JUST GOT RESSURECTED! HE WAS ALIVE FOR ALL OF FIVE MINUTES THEN HE'S DOWN AGAIN! WHAT THE HELL WENT WRONG! YOU HAD ONE JOB PETTIGREW! ONE JOB! AND YOU MUCKED IT UP, DIDN'T YOU!"

His ranting continued uninterrupted, as everyone was too shocked to do anything about it. Even Potter's reappearance with the corpse of the Diggory boy didn't break his rant.

"DO YOU KNOW HOW RISKY IT WAS FOR ME TO DO THIS? DO YOU? DO YOU KNOW HOW OFTEN I HAVE TO RAID SEVERUS'S POTION STORES FOR MORE INGREDIANTS FOR THE POLYJUICE POTION? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY CLOSE CALLS I'VE HAD? I HAD TO KILL THREE HOUSE ELVES BECAUSE THEY SAW ME WITHOUT THE DISGUISE SINCE I HAD TO SLEEP! I HAVEN'T HAD A FULL NIGHT OF SLEEP IN TEN MONTHS PETTIGREW! IT WAS ALL FOR THIS MOMENT! AND! YOU! BLOODY! MUCKED! IT! UP!"

"Stupefy!" Hermione was the only one with a mind to act. It was honestly a miracle that she didn't use an unforgiveable on him after he confessed to kill three house elves.

Harry gave a small awkward cough. "Someone turned the cup into a portkey. Pettigrew was on the other side trying to resurrect Voldemort, that's how Cedrick died. He messed up and the Death Eaters killed the result." Harry then turned to the paralyzed Minister of Magic. "You should probably give Lucius a medal or something, he did put his life on the line to kill an imperfectly resurrected Voldemort."

Fudge blinked twice, and only then realized that he was being addressed. "Er, well, I'll get on that right away."

"Oh, and you might want to go to where ever the Riddle's lived and take care of all the bodies of the noble heroes who died trying to prevent a second war."

Fudge nodded along dumbly.

"It might also be a good idea to send out some strong willed aurors to figure out how he came back in case he tries it a third time. After all, he was stopped by the sacrifice of so many brave citizens who previously were forced to do unspeakable things under the influence of the Imperius. We wouldn't want to dishonor their wishes and let their sacrifices be in vain, would we?"

Fudge took a step back. "Yes, Yes, I'll put my best people on it. In fact, I'll go and do that now, before you can say anything else!"

-Epilogue-

Lucius shared a toast with the auror captain Sirius Black. Upon realizing that he had in fact killed his recently resurrected master, Lucius had no choice but to commit to the path he accidently started on.

It was probably his greatest choice ever. The amount of goodwill generated by his accidental defeat of the Dark Lord made it child's play to pass some questionable laws. His "capture" of Peter Pettigrew turned Sirius Black into a staunch ally, and together they pushed a monumental pure-blood motion that allowed, even encouraged muggle-borns to be taken as consorts while still having a pure-blood spouse. Not only did it tend to raise the general blood-purity levels, it also turned what could have been enemies into allies and interested parties.

If he knew that taking down dark wizards and becoming a champion of the "Light" would be so productive to his goals, he would have done it years ago!

-End-

-Chapter 1.4 Thomas, Tom, and Tom-

From the moment that the bone was added, Voldemort knew that something was wrong. His mind ran through all of the horrifying possibilities of what could have gone wrong. He was already planning how he would berate Pettigrew when a sense of calm washed over him. With the ritual complete, he made to rise from the cauldron.

He got about halfway to standing when the arthritis kicked in.

"Wahmtail." The sound came out from between toothless gums. "Wahmtail what did you do?"

The animagus was shaking. "I did everything that you said, sir! Bone from the grave of your father, my flesh, and the blood of the Potter. Please my Lord, my hand…"

"What? Stop mumbling sunny-boy, I can't understand you. Servants these days, why back in my day-"

Harry could barely believe his eyes. Voldemort was old. Not old in an experienced, grandfatherly way like Dumbledore, but bent and weak. It scarcely looked like the resurrected dark lord could hold a wand, much less cast a spell.

"-And that's when I decided to kill most of my remaining family and have the other imprisoned in Azkaban. All three of them are buried here, Grandpa Thomas, daddy Tom, and grandma Riddle."

Both Wormtail and Harry had a moment of silent shock. The grave that Harry was bound to, and that Wormtail had taken a bone from, read Thomas Riddle. Apparently bone of the grandfather wasn't close enough for the ritual.

Finally snapped out of his daze, Peter reached out his arm to help his master out of the cauldron. Voldemort adamantly refused to be helped by someone's left hand. Finally, with a heavy sigh, Peter offered his left arm, which Voldemort used to call the rest of the Death Eaters.

"My Lord, we are- What in the bloody Hell happened to you! Fourteen years without a body did not do you any favors, my lord."

"What? You need to speak up, you can't mumble."

"WE ARE HERE TO SERVE YOU MASTER!"

Voldemort grabbed his wand from Nagini and cast crucio on the man who spoke. "I'm not deaf, there's no need to shout! Now you" He pointed to a random Death Eater. "Get me a cane. And you" He looked around before pointing to the same person. "I'm hungry, get me some yams and mush 'em up for me. And bring me a cane while you're at it! And get Lucius to bring a book of his properties, I want somewhere to stay that has a swing on the porch."

As the one confused man left on his errand, Lucius Malfoy came forward to kneel. "Master, what shall we do with the Potter child?"

Voldemort put a wrinkled finger on his chin. "Let him go, but make sure he knows that he has to visit and write. I need someone to live vicariously through and it sure isn't going to be one of you idiotic pure-bloods."

The Death Eaters all had to swallow their looks of shock. "And what is your will for the muggles? The ministry? The world that is rightfully yours?"

Voldemort waved all of them off. "That's for younger folk to deal with. I spent fourteen years as a spirit, I don't want to go through that again. I think I'll take to breeding snakes and writing my autobiography Defense against the Dark Arts textbook."

The Death Eaters almost wished that their master had never returned.

-Epilogue-

"Dear Voldemort. How are you? I'm doing fine. We found another one of your horcruxes over the weekend, you left it in the Lestrange Vault in Gringotts. With that one destroyed, there is only one left, unless you did have Nagini put down.

Classes are going fine. Pansy Parkinson vanished my robes in charms yesterday, then offered to cover me with her body. Did you have anything to do with that?

Ron says that your offer of becoming a Death Eater is much appreciated, and that he will accept so long as you can think of a good evil anagram of his name. On a related note, please tell Draco to stop wearing leather pants. He is a boy, no matter how girly he looks and I am not interested in his advances.

I plan to come visit and kill your snake soon.

With utmost loathing

Harry Potter"

Voldemort put down the glass of prune juice he was drinking. "That Harry Potter is such a nice boy. You should tell you daughter to date him Malfoy. I hear he likes girls in leather pants."

Lucius grit his teeth. "I have no daughter my lord. I only have my son Draco."

Voldemort turned to the man in shock. "You aren't supporting your daughter being what she wants to be? I hear that can really damage their minds. Here, I'll write to Severus, and he can brew up a sex-change potion for your daughter to fix what you did to her."

"My Lord, we've had this discussion over a dozen times already. Draco is just perfectly happy staying a boy. You don't need to do anything."

"Nonsense! She's my favorite god-daughter, I want her to be able to properly express herself. Maybe then she'll come and visit more often."

"Draco is in school, my Lord. He can't come visit more often."

"Not with an attitude like that, she won't."

"My Lord, which do you think would be the most sure way to die? Having my wife poison my tea, or leaping off the roof of the manor?"

"Lemon drop?"

-End-

-Chapter 1.5 Can't Take what's Given-

Peter Pettigrew approached Harry with the knife ready to draw blood. "The final component… Is blood of the enemy… Taken forcefully…"

Harry's mind raced, then hit upon a possible loophole. "I willingly give up my blood."

Wormtail stopped in his tracks, frozen.

Voldemort, meanwhile, was still in his baby body, but the bubbles were starting to grow excessively strong. The force of the boiling bubbles pushed him up to the surface where he barely managed to fling himself to the lip of the cauldron. "Wormtail! What's taking so long?"

The man turned around with a look like he had just been caught trying to steal a cookie. "The boy said he was willing to give his blood. Would that make the blood not forcibly taken?"

Voldemort gave a shiver inducing hum. "Potions were never my forte, and with so little information we can't risk it. Could you mix it with the blood of something else that was taken forcefully?"

"The spare?"

"No, the blood must be taken while the source is alive. Preferably extracted in an exceptionally forceful manner, like crushing or trampling."

"Would wine work? There are some bottles of '29 in the cellar and I hear that there is a spell that turns wine to blood."

"Ah Yes, Hocus Pocus I believe. Very well, do it quickly. This potion is rather uncomfortable."

Not ten minutes later, Wormtail was back with an opened bottle of wine and a half-emptied goblet. "Milord, I can confirm that the magic is most strong in the wine, it will work suitably!" Harry idly noted that it was the first time that he had seen Wormtail happy. "Just need to do the blood-play and the spell will be done!" Harry decided that did not like happy Wormtail.

Within second his blood had joined the wine and the mixture had been added to the cauldron.

The mixture flared up and Voldemort arose in her new body.

It took a moment for Harry to process what he was seeing, but once his brain learned to accept the truth right in front of him. Voldemort, the one who had attempted to kill him twice already and was definitely a boy when he made the diary, was standing in front of him with all of her new womanly assets on display. The moment she realized this, she blushed crimson and ducked back into the cauldron with a squeak.

"Wormtail!" Even her voice was beautiful. It was neither fair nor right that such an evil person had so much beauty.

"I'm on it my lady, it's difficult to flip through pages with only one hand!" The man was multi-tasking admirably, switching off between taking in the necessary alcohol to keep himself sane, flipping through the tome. "Here! Potion of Romantic Self-Improvement! If taken willingly, the potion will transform the drinker into the perfect for their desired partner, and curb instincts that might drive off the drinker's crush. Needs unicorn blood, anything from the drinker's familiar, something from the father, a servant, and the object of affections, topped off with wine. That's what we made, ain't no two ways about it."

"Just get me some stupid robes! Something flattering, maybe green, to match his eyes!" Pettigrew scurried off, leaving the two teens alone. Staring into each others' eyes. In terrible, awkward silence.

Harry broke first. "Er, Nice weather we're having, isn't it Voldemort?"

"Call me Morta." The girl had a bright blush on her face. "Did you… Did you like what you saw?"

Nagini slithered between them, hissing a song. "{Can you feel the love tonight?}"

Harry very much did not know how to respond, or even what she was asking about. "Er, Yes?"

Morta's eyes welled up with tears. "You didn't answer right away! That means you didn't like my body! You think I'm hideous!"

Harry was torn. On one hand, he didn't like to see people crying, but on the other this was Voldemort, so… "No I do! I just… didn't want you to think I was a pervert or something."

"{Sha la la la, Kiss de girl}"

Morta calmed down and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Would you like to see more?"

That's when Harry blacked out.

-Epilogue-

"Hi, I'm Harry's girlfriend! Call me Morta!"

The entire great hall stared at the couple as Morta introduced herself to Ron and Hermione. Ron just gaped at the girl and her declaration, but Hermione was more skeptical. "How did you two meet? Why haven't I heard about you before now if your close enough to declare yourself his girlfriend? Harry's not obligated to tell me everything, but if you were really that close I think he would have mentioned it to his best friend."

Morta clutched Harry closer to her side and hissed. "He's mine! We're both parselmouths! He's my only equal! We're perfect for each other! We're fated to be together! We've been linked ever since that fateful Halloween night…"

Hermione, ever the smartest witch of her generation, started putting the pieces together. Unfortunately, she also always had more brains than smarts. "You mean you're Vol-"

Before Hermione had a chance to utter another syllable, Morta already had her wand out and aimed at the witch. "Ava- augh!" Before she even got to the second syllable of the curse, her wand exploded in her hand.

"No trying to hurt my friends, Morta."

The witch formerly known as Voldemort put on her best sad puppy face, and it was damn good. "I'm sawy Harry. Can I make it up to you by teaching you all the uses of parseltongue in the bedroom." She came up and hissed into his ear. "{I'm sure I'll find a way to charm your snake.}"

Harry looked at his friends with desperation on his face. "Help me. Please."

The Weasley twins deposited a small box into his hands. "We're proud of you Harry. That box has everything you need and more. Go become a man!"

As the Boy Who Lived was dragged away, he considered making a special exception, just for the Weasley twins.

-End-

Chapter 1 End

As I look back on what I've written, I must ask myself: what the freak is wrong with me that I come up with this stuff? Personally, I blame it on all those books I read as a kid. Take this lesson home kids, don't read books, they rot your brain. You should be doing good and wholesome activities, like watching mindless television, or playing concussion ball, or getting yelled at by a twelve year old over the internet.