This fic started in 2015, when a plot bunny came along, where instead of What if Harry had been brought up by Snape? Or the Malfoys? Or Voldemort? I wanted to read a "What if Harry had been raised by Grindelwald?" fanfic, and could barely find any. So this fic was born, but do note that it's totally not serious, or dark, or angsty. If that's what you're looking for, look further.

Now, 7 years later, I've decided to rewrite the first few chapters of the fic, because rereading them made me feel they could be improved.

Enjoy.

Warnings: Fem! MOD! Neutral/Dark-ish! Harry, Time Travelling (of three characters), definitely AU. Don't take anything too seriously. This is quite self-indulgent. Let me know if you feel like there should be other warnings included later on in the story.

Pairings: Potential Hadria (FemHarry) x Tom Riddle, but more platonic than romantic, other pairings undecided.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Prologue: Parole

"Alea iacta est." The die has been cast. — Julius Caesar

There was a Central Court in the Abyss, a singular building made from something white and polished, like ivory. It looked like something predatory bursting out of the ash-coloured island it was built on, towering and jagged, its gleaming spires piercing the pale colourless sky, its base settled deep within cracked rock and crumbling earth.

The island itself floated high above a vast nothingness, the Abyss, as its denizens like to call it. It was hard to say if the Abyss had an end, or if it was an empty darkness with no border, but space was a little wrinkled in this Realm, so nobody ever thought too hard about things like this.

On this fine moment—it could be morning, or evening, or any time of the day, actually—the Central Court was occupied.

Within its largest hall, a small man stood in the middle of the circular space, looking up at the nine giant monuments that towered around him. Each monument was like a pillar, like a particularly tall pedestal, with a figure robed in white and hooded, with an animal skull serving as a mask to hide their features.

Gellert Grindelwald, who wasn't actually small, as he was actually rather tall as a human—though he did feel small, in that room that didn't feel particularly large or cramped— noted that each monument had a plaque at their feet. He squinted a bit, to make out the words.

DEATH, read the plaque of the figure with a raven skull. FATE, read the plaque of the figure with the ram skull. LUCK, read the plaque of the figure with the skull of a young stag. CHAOS was the one with the skull of a saber-toothed tiger. CHANGE wore a serpent's skull. TIME's mask was similar to CHANGE's, but it was also horned. It was the skull of a dragon. And MAGIC had an owl skull.

The remaining two monuments resembled half-finished sculptures, somewhat vague and featureless.

The seven figures weren't actually monuments carved of stone or marble, though it was easy to mistake, when they weren't moving. But no, Gellert Grindelwald knew, from the things he had heard from other souls in the Districts, that these seven statue-like figures were—not living or breathing—but very much sentient and sapient beings, the legendary Higher Entities… Or at least some version of them in visible form.

Of the remaining two shapeless monuments, one of them was Life, who wasn't present. However Gellert knew that if his sources were right, they would be outside the Courtroom, waiting. He certainly didn't see them on his way in, considering how he didn't even know how he came to be there, but he'd been in the Districts long enough to know not to question it.

And the last of the nine Higher Entities was also the most obscure. Most of the denizens of the Districts only knew that the Higher Entities numbered nine, but not what the ninth Higher Entity represented. Some souls guess it was the Void or Nothingness, while some thought it might be something more like Knowledge or Wisdom, or even Science. Yet others wondered if it could be Rest or Sleep, something in between Life and Death. But he digresses.

As it were, the seven Higher Entities were discussing among themselves in loud unintelligible whispers. It was probably some sort of sound distortion magic, but frankly Gellert didn't care. Even despite the claustrophobic—or kenophobic, it was hard to say—room, he was feeling very pleasantly comfortable, just standing there doing nothing, as he had not been for a very long time. It was, unfortunately, the price one had to pay for crossing too many lines.

When he was still alive, Gellert Grindelwald didn't believe in any religion, but he did believe in an afterlife. The evidence was there, in the existence of ghosts that hadn't moved on. And he believed what many viewed was just a fairy tale: the tale of the three brothers. Of course, as all tales and legends went, it had to be taken with a grain of salt, but he did believe there was truth in it, that these Hallows existed, and that Death was somehow associated with them.

Then he obtained the Elder Wand, and then he became absolutely sure that some part of the story had to be true. Sensitive to magic as he was, he could feel it in the power thrumming through the wand.

Did Gellert desire immortality? Well, he certainly didn't think of accepting death as the "next great adventure" as Albus Dumbledore did, but he didn't exactly consider death as something to be feared either. It just was. He did want to live as long as possible; he had so many goals, and so little time, but he wouldn't go so far as to seek immortality. That was just foolishness, and Gellert was no fool.

But Gellert did desire to own the three Deathly Hallows. He was curious—it was this very curiosity that got him expelled from Durmstrang—and although he didn't think it would make him the "Master of Death", he did expect something to happen when they were united.

It never happened, of course. He was imprisoned before he got the chance to, and then years later, killed.

And then he got to see for himself what the afterlife really was like.

It was hell. Well, not exactly. There wasn't any hell, the way some people might expect. It was purely metaphorical; his experience was akin to what he thought hell might be like. But it was unofficially called Hell by the souls in the Districts. The Districts of Hell.

"It has a nice ring to it," a soul had once said to him. He supposed it did, even though it wasn't quite Dante's Inferno.

Certainly, there was the consequence of having murdered countless people, which meant that his soul was so cracked, it was like a shattered blade barely held together by cheap glue. So he had to be sent for reforging, and that had been unimaginably painful that he figured a lesser person might actually reform and vow never to murder again if they knew what it was like.

(He was not a lesser person. The pain was terrible, but it was also finite. It was merely a price one had to pay for one's ambitions, a price he was willing to pay.)

Then after that, was when the actual punishment began. Not because of any crimes the mortal world might judge him for, but crimes he unknowingly committed, some invisible Line he shouldn't have crossed. A Line that was there to preserve the order of the world. A Line that, once crossed, inevitably meant the world itself would ensure that the danger was somehow mitigated…

Apparently, anything of topics that intersected the domains of the Higher Entities—things like death magics, or the art of switching fates—were dangerous subjects. It was also unknown how many witches and wizards had suffered the consequences of their research into time travel magics. Certainly the existence of time-turners meant that it wasn't completely Illegal, but he didn't doubt there was some Line there that also shouldn't be crossed.

Gellert still didn't know if it was his fortune or misfortune that he never did face any backlash from his research into the Forbidden Arts while he was alive. As far as he knew, most of those who had engaged in similar research died in some extremely gruesome and terrible manner, and were also thus excused from any further punishment in the afterlife.

However, Gellert couldn't even bring himself to regret crossing the Line. Oh, he regretted getting imprisoned, and dying without having accomplished even half of what he desired, but he didn't regret toeing that Line. Because the sheer amount of knowledge and experience that was shared between the souls here was astonishing, and he now knew that despite all his glorious accomplishments in life, he was still— what did the Chinese call it? —like a frog in a well.

More appropriately, Gellert felt like an ignorant Muggle scientist, who thought his thesis and breakthroughs were brilliant and enlightening, knowing still that there was a vast universe to explore, but not knowing that beyond the science that he knew, there was also a whole world of magic and wonder.

But he was dead, and there was nothing to be done about that.

But he was also now in the Central Court, and he had heard that it was only used for "cases with complications," and yet nobody could actually tell him when was the last time it was used, or for what purpose. It was like a vague myth or legend, spread by word of mouth. They had heard it from someone else who had heard it from someone else who had…

The point was, he didn't know why he was here, and nobody was telling him why. Certainly not the Higher Entities whom he was now certain were just gossiping even though he couldn't actually tell what they were saying nor read any lips, considering that their faces were all obscured by their masks.

Gellert wondered if it was suicidal to cough. A small ahem . Just to remind them of his presence. He was already dead, after all.

A while later, it could have been a few minutes, or a few hours—time was harder to perceive around here, not least because of Time's presence—the Higher Entities finally turned their attention to the mortal soul in the hall.

"Gellert Izsak Grindelwald, died age 116, in the month of March, in the year 1998," said the one titled Death. Gellert couldn't tell if Death was greeting him or just stating facts.

"Sentenced for dabbling in the Forbidden Arts," Death continued. "Remaining time to be served, thirteen standard years."

Gellert thought it was a rather pleasant-sounding number. Thirteen.

"In light of certain events, we have opted to release you early, on certain conditions, which means you will be on parole for thirteen years by the Gregorian calendar," said Fate.

Suddenly Gellert wondered if the number "thirteen" wasn't a coincidence. However, he wasn't yet able to figure out the significance of it, aside from it being a number usually associated with misfortune.

Then Fate began reading out the list of conditions from a scroll, the first of which was the rather obvious one of "No dabbling in Forbidden Arts." They elaborated that reading about it was fine, and so was theoretical research. He could also engage in practical research, but as the Line was invisible, he would be at risk of crossing it again.

"Pity you only succeeded with Death's Temptation," Chaos interrupted midway. "Would have been entertaining to see how far you could go with an Undead army if you were more Favoured."

"Don't give him ideas," Magic hissed. "You're responsible for facing Life's wrath if something happens because of this."

Chaos coughed weakly. "Well, it could be worse. At least he has the sense not to mess with Soul Magic, right? I mean, look at that Idiot."

"Which Idiot?"

"Oh. You mean The Idiot?"

"Which other Idiot was stupid enough to split his soul eight times and get all of the pieces destroyed before he could put himself together? Even the Train to the Tenth District couldn't bring him to have his soul reforged."

"Technically, the destruction of his soul pieces wasn't his fault. Hey Death, wasn't it that girl of yours who did most of it?"

"She's not a 'girl of mine'. She has merely earned her right as a Champion. If I recall correctly, it was you who first took interest in her."

"Self-fulfilling prophecies are too much fun!" Fate cackled. "And I didn't even involve a Prophet with this one."

Slowly, gradually, Gellert watched with some disconcertion as the Higher Entities lost the serious professional air they started out with, as they descended back into informal bickering , like they had forgotten he was still there, and that they were still in the middle of his case.

"Poor Death. One of his Favourites in Limbo, the other stuck in the Living world long after her time is due, and this last one here in Court because his fate got switched and now we have to correct that —"

Or maybe not.

Not that Gellert had any clue about what they were talking about, though he had surmised that he was somehow somewhat Favoured by Death— which was just fascinating —and that this had something to do with the Elder Wand— unsurprising —but it was nice to confirm that the Hallows did have a connection with Death.

What was curious was that comment about his fate. He'd never heard of fates being switched prior to his death—changed, yes, defied, also yes, but switched? Then someone, a fellow soul of the Districts, had mentioned it in passing, but they too didn't have much to say on the subject. But the Higher Entities weren't elaborating either.

"Well, at least the new Master has finally made it here. Isn't that why we're here in the first place?"

"Let's get on with it then," said Fate, and picked up the scroll again. "Life is still waiting outside, and it won't be good for any of us if she gets upset again."

"In conclusion, Gellert Grindelwald, you have been given a second chance at life. Please comply with the aforementioned conditions or you will be subject to further punishment. You'll be given a list as well, upon your return to the Living. And we will also give you a Task later on. The Task will be optional, but accepting it will give you some buffer with regards to the listed conditions. In addition, you may not interact with your other self should you meet him, as this will violate Time's laws, unless you're under disguise… Any questions?"

Gellert thought about it. He had many questions, but the one that nagged at him the most was…

"What do you mean by 'other self'?" He asked.

"We'll be returning you to a time when your past self is still alive." It was Time who replied. "October 31st, 1981, in particular. With Samhain in full swing, the release of magical power upon the Idiot's death due to the backlash of the Killing Curse, and the Fulfilment of the first half of the Prophecy, it is the most convenient time to return you to the mortal realm. In fact, the energy of the amount of Soul Magic present on that night would be sufficient to return you to the Living in the body of your adult self."

"Of course, this also means that an Alternate Reality would be created, since this would change the outcome of what has already occurred," Fate added.

"Well then, if that's all," Fate said, looking at Gellert. "Gellert Grindelwald, Life will provide you with your body and return you to the Living. Guards, escort him out."

Two Dementors appeared and led him to the huge double doors at one side of the room. The cold they exuded was still present, despite the fact that he had no physical nerves. All sensations that could be possible to experience in this place affected the soul, not the body.

Life—another towering figure—met him outside the Courtroom, and led him down a white hallway as the Dementors fled the moment their job was done. They couldn't seem to stand her presence.

As the Courtroom doors closed behind them, Gellert thought he heard Change saying, "Finally! One down, two to go! And then we can relax for a change ." Followed by some chortling, probably at their own pun.

Edited: 6th July 2022. I'm still in the process of rewriting the next few chapters, so there may be some discrepancies. Well, hopefully not. Or not too much, if there are any. (Aside from the numbering issue which I will be correcting sometime.)

Comments are welcome, and old readers can see if they can tell the difference between the old and new chapters XD