Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or it's characters. This is merely a work of fanfiction.
A/N: This is my first time travel fic, based on my one-shot "I Stayed There." I have written this Prologue to give us an idea of how Peony is different from canon Harry, because she is quite different. I'm hoping to have all the chapters out within 1-2 weeks. I hope you enjoy.
A/N #2- If something is in 'italics' then Peony is saying it in her head.
Lady Peony Potter always knew she was different.
She had wild black hair, and green eyes the color of emeralds. She didn't try to get in trouble. No, it just found her.
The day she set a boa constrictor on her cousin Dudley had been a pure accident, and the most joyous day of her life.
She was a lonely child, who often talked to herself out of boredom. She could have whole debates with herself, in her head, as she did the many chores her Aunt and Uncle required. One side of the debate was always more rational and kind, the other more vicious.
When the letters from Hogwarts started to appear, the more arrogant side of her whispered that this was part of her specialness, the thing that set her apart. When Hagrid told her she was a witch, she was half doubt, half triumph.
She knew that there was something different about her, she just knew it.
Gringotts sent her Lady Potter ring to her at Hogwarts, with a report on her many accounts.
She was apparently very wealthy. Her family held a seat on the Wizengamot that she would take one day.
Maybe it shouldn't have thrilled her the way it did, but it did.
She noticed how even when the Pureblood Slytherin's taunted her, and tormented her, they called her Lady Potter. They kept a respectable distance. They bowed, and curtsied, and she learned how to return them.
She learned how to dress, and style her hair, and how to address her peers. Peony treasured the respect she was given, and gave in return.
She spent much of her free time in her bed, reading books about Pureblood culture and families. It was truly fascinating. It was a fixation that never quite let up.
Tom Riddle was handsome. Unfairly handsome.
The kind of handsome that got stuck in your head and replayed all day.
When Peony stabbed the fang into the diary, and he screamed in agony, she had to admit there was a very small part of her that was sad to see him go.
While Peony laid in the hospital wing, something occurred to her.
Tom- just Tom.
Not Heir Tom Riddle, or Lord Tom Slytherin. It was his. His title.
Why had he never claimed it?
It was the last night of Peony's Second Year.
She had been debating with herself for the past hour.
'You know the spell. It's simple. Do it now, so they can't hurt you this summer.'
'It requires Dark magic,' Peony argued back with herself. 'Dark Magic is bad.'
'Those Muggles are bad. Dark Magic can save you. You know you have a gift for it. You're getting older. Do you think the abuse won't take on a darker tone? Do the spell. You know how.'
Peony swallowed thickly, and dragged the ritual dagger across her palm. She slit the throat of the bird she captured for just this purpose, and mingled their blood together.
She said the words, in a long dead language, as she poured the blood over her body, and enjoyed the rush of magic that washed over her.
She was safe now.
Peony left her room for the first time in a week. She thought everyone was gone. She was wrong.
Dudley and his friends came in the front door as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Piers Polkiss leered at her cut off shorts. She only ever wore them in the Muggle world.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him. His grip was too tight, it hurt. No one was going to help her. No one here cared who she was. They offered no respect, or courtesy. Dudley stood behind Piers, smiling.
'Any second now, and-'
Piers pulled back with a yelp, staring in horror at his hands. The skin was burned and swollen, as if he had put his hand on a hot iron.
"What did you do?! You freak!"
They ran out the door, their shrieks carrying back through the open door. They never told anyone what had happened, and neither did she.
Peony stood next to Lord Sirius Black, her godfather, and let herself focus on sensing his magic. It was a gift she learned she possessed if she practiced, if she was patient.
It was Dark like hers, though not as powerful.
Perhaps it once was. He had no doubt been beaten down by his years in Azkaban, and time on the run. Most to her interest was the hesitancy in his magic.
'He's ashamed to have Dark magic,' she thought.
'It is foolish to be ashamed of what you are,' another part of her argued.
She didn't bother to argue back. It was right.
'Do they think I'm stupid?' Peony wondered, watching the Professors argue around her. Clearly whoever put her name in the Goblet of Fire wanted her dead. It was foolish to make her compete.
The only good part of this was that she might get to spend a little time with Heir Cedric Diggory.
She smiled up at the boy in question.
Cedric pulled her close to him. The Weird Sisters crooned into the microphone. She had been nervous to open the ball, for this whole experience, but Cedric made it tolerable.
He turned her face up to his, his eyes flicking to her lips, then back up at her eyes. He got closer slowly. Right before their lips touched, Peony turned her face, and his lips landed on her cheek.
A part of her that had screamed 'No!' even though she liked him. She couldn't do it. She blushed prettily in embarrassment and told him that maybe she just wasn't ready for that yet.
He smiled down at her kindly, "It's okay, Peony. We have plenty of time."
Peony bolted up in bed, a thin layer or sweat covering her body, her throat sore from screaming.
'You're safe. It's not your fault. You're safe. It's not your fault.'
She repeated the words in her head, even if she didn't believe them. She got out of bed and looked at her pale, haunted face in the mirror on the wall.
'Why would they leave me alone to deal with this?' She wondered for the hundredth time that summer. It didn't seem humane. It didn't seem noble, or kind. It seemed cruel.
She had learned her lesson the hard way. No boyfriends, no more attachments if she could help it.
Ron, Hermione, and Sirius were collateral damage at this point. Everyone knew they were connected, but she wouldn't get close to anyone else.
She would take no more chances.
"You have to mean it!" Lady Bellatrix Lestrange screamed.
Peony steadied her wand. She meant it, oh hell had she meant it, but she had tripped on her shoe laces, making her spell miss it's intended target.
'No more tennis shoes. Muggle clothes are a hazard.'
'Focus. You need to end her, or she will come back for you,' a part of her supplied.
Peony focused on her hatred, and aimed her wand at the fallen woman.
"Avada-"
A fireplace roared to life beside her, and a spell blew her out of the way before she could finish the killing curse. Lord Voldemort had arrived.
"May I ask one more question, sir?"
Professor Slughorn looked up at her tiredly. This wasn't what Dumbledore wanted her to ask, but it was okay to ask one more question. Wasn't it?
She looked down at her Lady Potter ring, then at him.
"Why did Tom never try to claim his title? It's been bothering me for years. He could have had everything he wanted without all of this."
Professor Slughorn looked at her like she was mad. He shook his head slowly.
"I don't know. He intended to. I don't know what happened."
Peony left, her curiosity unsatisfied.
Peony sat staring at the Black Family Tapestry in Grimmauld Place.
So noble, so large, so dead.
She didn't particularly like The Order. They were clearly incapable of keeping people alive, but she needed numbers. You don't win a war alone. Especially not when you're fighting an insane tyrant with sycophantic supporters.
Her eyes roamed over the tapestry until they came to rest on one name in particular.
"Narcissa Malfoy née Black."
Oh, now that gave her a very good idea indeed.
"Dobby," she called.
The house elf appeared in front of her, eager to serve.
"If I asked you to get a message to Lord Malfoy, could you do it?"
The house elf looked up at her with wide, confused eyes.
"This is a very important, very secret mission. This is to help us win the war. You have to make sure no one else sees or hears you. You Know Who can never find out. Can you do that?"
A look of determination crossed his face. Peony crossed to the desk that now belonged to her, and pulled out a piece of parchment. She wrote a letter, to be burned after reading, that offered amnesty after the war, if the Malfoy's spied for her.
She would say whatever they wanted to get them out of Azkaban. It would be worth it.
She poured wax onto the envelope and sealed it with the crest of the Ancient & Noble House of Black. She handed it to Dobby, who took it with great reverence.
"I does it Lady Potter."
"Thank you."
Peony watched Hermione Obliviate the Death Eater's.
Sweet Hermione. Still so innocent.
She thought a simple Obliviate would protect her parents, that sending them away would help. Peony didn't tell her about the blood wards she had placed on her parents before they got on that plane. She wouldn't have approved.
'You can't let them live. They'll kill, rape, torture. You have to kill them.'
Peony waited for Hermione to walk to the back of the shop, for Ron to follow her. She raised her wand and whispered the necessary incantation. Green shot from her wand, ending two lives, saving countless others.
There was a small pang of regret.
'Get out of here.'
Peony followed her instincts, and followed Hermione and Ron into the back of the restaurant.
Peony Potter blinked once, twice, three times.
She pushed herself up and looked into the blinding light. As she looked, the space took form around her. She recognized the stone arches and glass ceiling of King's Cross Station.
She looked down. Her robes were spotless.
Was she dead?
A bench appeared in front of her. As she approached it, she realized someone was sitting on the far end. The light dissipated as she neared the figure, freezing her in her steps.
The figure- no, the man- turned. Peony's heart stuttered in her chest.
She had seen that face in the Chamber of Secrets as a twelve year old, and in Dumbledore's pensieve many times over.
"Mister Tom Riddle."
He turned to look at her. She hadn't seen him quite at this age before. He must be just out of Hogwarts. He wore a handsome black suit, instead of a Hogwarts uniform. His eyes were still a stormy blue, and his nose, well, it was perfect.
"Lady Peony Potter."
She swallowed thickly as she looked at him.
"Are you scared of me, after all this time together?"
Peony's jaw ticked, and Tom scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest. She walked towards him and sat at the far end of the bench.
"How old are you, and how are you here?"
"Seventeen. I'm the part that's been with you this whole time."
"Since you tried to kill me, as a baby."
"Unfortunately, yes."
"You look better this way," she admitted.
"I agree."
Peony relaxed slightly and turned her body to face his. He was classically handsome. He had the kind of face people died for, and they had. So many of them.
"Your voice sounds familiar."
It was deep, and smooth. It struck a striking contrast to the grating voice of Lord Voldemort.
"You've been hearing it for sixteen years. You should know."
Peony paused at that, and stared out at the platform that was taking shape around them.
When she thought about it, really thought about it, she knew he was right. That proverbial devil on her shoulder, telling her to take the low road, had always been Tom.
Dark, soothing, and oh so tempting.
"You're like me," Tom observed offhandedly, his eyes tracking over her form slowly, taking in the sight of her.
"I'm nothing like you."
His stormy blue eyes returned to hers. Tom chuckled and smirked at her.
Smirked.
"Lord Voldemort? No. But me? Yes. We're two of a kind. Remember Peony, I've been with you for every moment of the last sixteen years. I know what you've done."
He was right. She had often thought about it, late at night, all alone. She and Tom Riddle, both orphans, both mistreated, both Parseltongues, both drenched in Dark magic.
She wasn't the paragon of Light that The Order made her out to be. She merely didn't want to die at the hands of a mad man.
She liked that secret part of her; vicious, cunning, powerful. It was what kept her safe from the Dursleys during the summer, what had gotten her through the war thus far.
"I don't kill innocents," she whispered.
"Ah, well there is that. I suppose you have the moral high ground. Still, you have killed. How many Death Eater's did you kill over the last year?"
Peony sniffed haughtily, "I did that in self defense, in a war that Lord Voldemortcreated. If they lived, they would have tortured and killed scores of people."
"True, I suppose. Shall we take an earlier example? You hexed that Ravenclaw girl for trying to steal your little boyfriend, Cedric Diggory. She'll never be the same again."
"Yes, well you solved that by killing him, didn't you? I learned my lesson. No boyfriends."
"We both know that wasn't me. That was Voldemort, and that's completely besides the point."
"You're the same person," Peony deflected.
"Not anymore. I've been with you the last sixteen years. I rubbed off on you, you rubbed off on me. It goes both ways, Peony. We're a part of one another now."
That stabbed Peony's heart. He was a part of her.
"I don't want to lose you."
"I'm already gone, Peony. We only have a few minutes."
Tears swam in her eyes, "Is this even real? Is this all in my head?"
Tom grabbed the fabric of her robes and pulled her closer. He put his hands around her small waist, and pulled her onto his lap. His thumbs swiped at her tears, and she leaned into his touch.
"Of course it's in your head, but why should that mean it's not real?"
He leaned forward, and his kiss devoured her. She felt like she was drowning in his magic. Dark, so Dark, and perfect.
She was him, and he was her. Two of a kind.
The roar of the Hogwarts Express sounded behind her, and Tom released her from the kiss. He looked down at her, searching her hypnotizing green eyes.
"I don't want you to go, Tom. I don't want to go back without you. There's nothing left for me."
"It's not up to me."
He stood, taking her with him. He set her down on her feet, and brushed her wild hair back behind her ear.
"How do I kill him?" She asked hoarsely. "He's you."
Tom looked down at her seriously and stroked his thumb over her jawline.
"He's not me, Peony. He's insane. Finish it. Be the Dark witch you are."
He stepped around her, headed towards the train. Peony tried to follow him, but her feet were stuck to the ground. She couldn't move. She sank to her knees as he boarded the train.
Her heart shattered as she watched the train leave the station, taking with it her one true equal.
Another corpse, another person dead at her hands.
Lord Voldemort was dead.
More lives saved- the entire Wizarding World.
A group of wizards moved his corpse into an antechamber. Peony stared at the door as he disappeared behind it. She stared around the room, comprehending nothing.
The Malfoy's were standing in a corner, looking unsure.
She locked eyes with Lord Lucius Malfoy. He looked how she felt- like hell. She gave him a small nod. He was her favorite spy. He seemed almost as broken as her.
But he had a family, and she had no one, not really.