"I will hold them off," Luna said, her kind blue eyes frosty with determination.

"Luna, no," Harry said at once, even when Hermione was pulling on his arm to drag him away.

"It's our only chance," Luna whispered. Her mouth curved up in a smile that she bravely tried to make anything but sad. "You will see me again."

Harry knew she was lying. Perhaps Luna wasn't doing it on purpose, but Harry knew she wasn't telling the truth. He would never see this Luna again. He'd see a Luna, but not his version, the little gem who was so clever and good at thinking outside of the box that she'd made it to the very end when most magical people around them were already dead.

"We don't even know if it will work," Harry whispered, his heart slowly turning into a lump of ice in his chest. He'd lost so many already. Almost all his friends were gone. Every single Weasley, Neville, Draco, Blaise, Susan… the list went on and on.

Magic did nothing to stop these monsters, because they ate magic. They thrived on it. And a witch or wizard was made of magic. The moment they lost it they withered away.

The only person who could stop these monsters was dead for good. Because Harry had killed him.

"Harry, this is our only chance!" Hermione all but screeched in his ear, so far past hysterical Harry didn't even think there was a word for it.

Luna pressed a quick kiss to Harry's cheek. "You will see me again. Go."

His eyes full of tears that he refused to let shed, Harry allowed Hermione to drag him away into the abandoned building off Diagon Alley. It had taken the wizarding world's sharpest minds weeks to put together the ritual that would send Harry back to his eleven-year-old body, the day after his birthday. Harry would then…do things to change the future. As it turned out, there was a reason parselmouths existed, and that was to keep the real monsters at bay.

Without a parselmouth in the world, the monsters broke free and destroyed all wizarding societies around the world. They ignored muggles since they lacked magic, but feasted on any creature, great and small, that possessed a magical core. Even the dragons were wiped out already. They hadn't stood a chance against them because the monsters were immortal.

So Harry had to keep Voldemort alive.

Oh, the fucking irony.

Or, he could try to find a way to kill Voldemort while retaining the horcrux in his scar, though Hermione had warned against this since she wasn't sure if Harry had ever counted as a 'real' parselmouth. If only Harry remained the monsters might very well still break free from their eternal prison.

Another option was to encourage Voldemort to procreate. With someone. Anyone. Harry had secretly come up with a plan to douse Voldemort with the Draught of Living Death and then extract what was needed to impregnate multiple woman from Voldemort's unconscious body.

Anyway, Harry had several options so he could just wing it. Throw a lot of stuff around and see what ultimately stuck. He was a Gryffindor, after all.

Hermione was done with preparing the ritual circle and Harry stepped inside of it, butt naked and not caring one whiff about it. When you'd seen most of the people you'd ever even remotely cared about die in front of you, certain things just ceased to matter.

"I'm going to miss you," Harry whispered while Hermione chanted frantically. Outside several loud bangs could be heard that shook the entire building followed by an all too familiar yet unwelcome scream.

The monsters had come.

"Now, Harry!" Hermione yelled, bringing her wand down with a sharp swish and pouring as much magic as she could spare into the circle. Harry's entire body was on fire instantly and he screamed and screamed

he screamed and sat up in the rickety bed in Dudley's second bedroom, his body far too small and his voice far too high.

"What the fuck," Harry whispered, looking around in awe. It had worked. His brand-new trunk stood at the foot of the bed and in her cage on the desk sat Hedwig.

Harry burst into tears. He couldn't help it. He'd lost everyone he'd ever loved and here his first ever friend was returned to him. Harry crawled out of bed and pressed a trembling hand against the metal bars. "I missed you so much, sweet girl."

Hedwig gave him an extremely dubious look and Harry remembered that she'd only known him for less than 24 hours.

"I'm not crazy, I promise," Harry whispered, wiping off his cheeks. "I've just had a very bad year."

Hedwig let out a tiny hoot and closed her eyes, clearly ready for a good nap.

Without further delay, Harry took care of his morning ablutions and got dressed. He made sure he had everything packed in his trunk and then dragged the thing out of his bedroom and down the stairs, making enough ruckus to wake the people three doors down.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" Vernon demanded as he came storming out of the kitchen.

"Moving out," Harry said, and kicked Vernon right in the balls. His uncle fell forward with a pained grunt and Harry walked out of the front door, trunk and owl cage in hand. He summoned the Knight's Bus and paid the fare for a trip to Diagon Alley. There he didn't stand out as long as he kept his scar hidden behind his hair. Harry made a beeline for Gringotts, had them exchange a small fortune into Muggle money and withdrew enough gold to see him through all seven years of Hogwarts. He had no idea what the future would bring so he wanted to be prepared.

After that he stopped at the Apothecary and bought enough Aging Potion to last him the rest of the summer until Hogwarts started. A brief stop at Madam Malkin's supplied him with enough robes for his adult frame, and after he entered Muggle London a visit to Marks & Spencer's did the same for muggle clothing.

Harry booked himself a nice little muggle B&B in the countryside near Oxford and then went horcrux hunting. He needed a few bargaining chips if he was to negotiate something with Voldemort, after all. Since the Trace hadn't been applied to him yet (that happened on the first day of Hogwarts and could easily be broken with an Aging Potion) Harry had no trouble getting around through apparition.

He visited Grimmauld Place first. The moment Kreacher opened the door Harry hit him with an overpowered Stupefy. Then he rushed inside the gloomy house and found the locket in the display cabinet without any trouble. He was out of there in under a minute, one horcrux safely tucked away in his backpack that held an undetectable expansion charm.

Next was the ring, which was a piece of cake. Harry had learned enough about curse breaking and wards during his Auror training that breaking into the Gaunt Shack was a piece of cake. After sacrificing a woodpigeon to spring the curse on the ring, Harry tucked the now harmless thing in his backpack.

Then came Malfoy Manor. Harry hid behind some bushes outside the wards and called for Dobby. Surprisingly, Dobby answered, though he gave Harry a very strange look.

"I've heard so many amazing things about you, Dobby," Harry said and then spent a good five minutes buttering the house-elf up. "I need a diary that has T.M. Riddle on the cover. It will help me get rid of Voldemort once and for all."

Dobby pulled on his ears. "Dobby cannot, Dobby cannot."

Harry gave Dobby a shrewd look. "Has your Master explicitly forbidden you from handing that diary over to Harry Potter? Because if he hasn't, you can get it for me. Imagine how good it would feel if you got one over on mean old Lucius."

It took Dobby a minute to return with the dairy. Harry thanked him profusely.

The goblet was out of his reach, for now, but that hardly mattered. And Harry would collect the diadem the moment he entered the castle. Nagini hadn't been made into a horcrux yet, so that meant that Harry was done with horcrux hunting for now.

He had the rest of the summer off and staying in the muggle B&B reminded Harry that he bloody well deserved a vacation after the horrific year he'd had. So he went to the nearest muggle travel agency and booked a trip to the best place a lad of his age could go for a great party atmosphere.

Harry ended up in Bali, Indonesia, and he loved every fucking second of it. Bali was lush and green and humid and hot and full of tourist traps. The people were friendly and the street food sold in the many street stalls was amazing. Harry had never eaten as well in his whole life.

There were many people his age and a bit older, early to late twenties, who had all come there for a great time. There were the Brits, who were very loud and very drunk most of the time. There were the Australians, who were batshit crazy and Harry loved them. There were the Germans, who loved listening to very loud music in the hostel they were all staying at early in the morning, but Harry didn't mind because they did it while drinking tequila shots and they always invited Harry along. And there were the Scandinavians, who loved nothing better than skinny dipping, much to Harry's enjoyment.

Harry's new best friends were a Swede named Nils and a Dane named Sven, and they introduced Harry to the delights of marihuana. Harry also fell in love with vodka on the rocks and often combined those two.

And Harry got laid. A lot. He hadn't been laid since Ginny died and he'd never fucked anyone but her, so fucking his way through his many new friends was a delightful experience and dulled the pain that always threatened to consume his heart, at least for a while.

Nils and Sven also partied like they were trying to forget the end of their own world, whatever that may have been, and Harry spent most of his time with them, when he wasn't sharing someone's bed. It didn't matter that his body was really eleven. The Aging Potions kept him aged up to his early twenties, the age he'd been when he'd left his old, dying world behind and Harry remembered to take a new dose every morning, or more often, every afternoon.

Though that one time he forgot to take a new dose and the Aging Potion wore off mid-fuck and that had been rather awkward until Harry could get his wand out of his backpack and cast a much needed obliviate on the slightly hysterical girl.

Harry had just spent an amazing evening with two French girls named Claire and Sylvie when he sauntered into the Tiki Tiki Bar, their friends' group favourite meeting place. The bartender placed a vodka on the rocks on the bar for Harry, which Harry accepted with a grateful smile.

"My vacation is almost over," Harry told the bartender, a chap named Banyu. "I've got to be back in the UK by September 1st."

Banyu gave him a funny look. "If that is true you are very late, my friend. Today it is September 3rd."

"The fuck?" Harry almost fell off his barstool when Banyu showed him the most recent newspaper which really had September 3rd in the upper corner. "I've got to go!"

Harry threw his belongings together, shouted a goodbye at whoever he ran past all the way to the closest magical transportation building. Three portkeys later, Harry arrived in the UK on September 4th and then took the Knight's Bus to Hogwarts.

Dumbledore looked simultaneously extremely relieved yet incredibly disappointed to see him. "Where have you been, Mr Potter?"

Harry, in his eleven-year-old body, sat in front of Dumbledore's desk and stared down at his shoes. His head was throbbing, maybe from acute alcohol withdrawal or perhaps a belated hangover. Who knew?

"Many people were very worried when you didn't board the Hogwarts Express," Dumbledore continued.

"I lost track of time," Harry muttered, staying as close to the truth as he could. "I was on vacation."

"Such insolence," Snape snarled, glaring at Harry from where he stood in the corner of the room. "Just as arrogant as your father."

Harry almost felt nostalgic at seeing Snape again and hearing his customary insults. But he kept his expression blank instead of smiling at his least favourite professor. Well, second least favourite. Umbridge firmly sat in first place.

"Well, you're here now," Dumbledore said with a sigh when it became apparent Harry wasn't going to say anything more. "Let's get you sorted."

The sorting hat barely touched his head when it shouted: "Slytherin!"

Harry shrugged and followed a muttering Snape out of Dumbledore's office and down to the dungeons.

"Where were you?" Draco Malfoy demanded when Harry was all but shoved into the first years dormitory by a very unimpressed Snape. Draco looked like a tiny little whiny brat, nothing like the strong, shrewd man Harry remembered. "People didn't think you'd actually show up at all."

"I was busy fucking my way through an international hostel in Bali," Harry said honestly as he started taking off his shoes. He didn't bother unpacking his trunk since he didn't plan to stay at Hogwarts that long.

"Very funny," Draco said with a disbelieving snort. "What really happened?"

Harry shrugged and went to bed, pulling the curtains closed with a certain sense of finality.

So Harry was back at Hogwarts and he hated it. Hated, hated, hated it. Because this wasn't his Hogwarts. Not to mention he was far too fucking old to sit through endless hours of turning buttons into beetles. He was a trained and certified Auror, for fuck's safe.

In the Great Hall during breakfast a miniature Ron almost fell off his seat at the Gryffindor table trying to get a better look at Harry Potter. Where was the tall, brave man who'd stepped into the path of a monster without hesitation to save his wife and his sister? Hermione sat by herself with a book in her lap as she nibbled on a piece of toast, looking forlorn and miserable. Where was the woman who had commanded a small army of academics and led them into creating a solution that would save the world?

Harry's friends were gone for good and he hated, hated, hated it.

Snape cornered him the next afternoon. "I will see you in my office after dinner, Potter."

"Sure." Harry didn't even bother slowing his pace as he walked past Snape. It was hell being back at Hogwarts, seeing everyone alive again.

Mainly because the people he saw giving him curious looks, people like Hermione and Ron and Neville and Susan and Hannah and the Twins and even Draco weren't the people Harry had lost. They couldn't be those people because they had no clue who Harry really was. And they would never be those people because they never built their friendships with Harry over years and years of hardships and wars and the loss of the entire magical world.

They could never be Harry's friends because Harry wasn't the naïve, wide-eyed child he'd been when he first came to Hogwarts. Harry was unable to build the same relationships with these kids because Harry was an adult with memories of so many horrific events stuck in his head, no matter what his body may look like.

So being at Hogwarts sucked like nothing else and Harry longed for the craziness of partying on Bali because at least there he could forget about everything he'd lost.

"I don't care about your little act in front of the Headmaster," Snape said with a sneer when Harry sat down in front of his desk. "You will tell me the real reason you were 4 days late for school."

"Just look into my mind," Harry said and purposefully stared into Snape's black eyes. "You'll see everything."

Snape took that invitation at once and barged into Harry's mind with all the finesse of a rampaging hippogriff. Ah, Harry may not have missed Snape's special brand of Legilimency but it was necessary.

"What is this?" Snape muttered in sheer disbelief as Harry showed him memory after memory of the monsters sucking his friends dry of their magic with only a look, leaving them as lifeless husks.

Harry swallowed and pulled away, breaking eye contact. That was as much as Harry could bear to relieve without a full bottle of vodka by his side. "Gorgons. They're Gorgons."

"The mythical creatures from Ancient Greece? Medusa's species?" Snape asked in surprise while giving Harry a disbelieving look.

"Yes, they're real," Harry said with a sigh that came out as bone-tired. "Immortal creatures with heads full of venomous snakes that can only be kept imprisoned by the existence of a parselmouth. After I killed Voldemort once and for all, they broke free within a few years and destroyed the entire magical world across the globe. We tried everything, potions, wards, curses, but nothing touched them. Even the killing curse bounced off them as though it was a harmless jinx."

"You're from the future," Snape said with a sharp gasp.

"My mind is, yes. And my soul, I suppose." Harry shrugged and stared at the rows of jars filled with all sorts of slimy things. "I honestly wasn't involved in creating the ritual. I just underwent it."

"So the world needs a living parselmouth," Snape said, proving once again that he'd always been exceedingly clever. "Any chance that's someone else other than the Dark Lord?"

"Nope, not to my knowledge." Harry shook his head and slumped further in his chair. "I mean, I'm a parselmouth but apparently I don't count, since I was made and not born."

"How do you plan to approach the Dark Lord," Snape asked, seeing right through Harry's evasive answers.

"With some bargaining power," Harry said, a slow grin forming on his face. "I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse."

"Why not involve the Headmaster?" Snape asked with a daring curve of his eyebrow.

Harry gave him a pointed look. "Do you really believe Dumbledore would allow Voldemort to live for any reason, no matter that the survival of magic itself is at stake?"

"Hm." Snape slowly shook his head. "He would probably believe himself capable of stopping the Gorgons somehow."

"He would fail," Harry whispered, unable to hold back a shudder as the memories of his friends' dying screams forced themselves to the forefront of his mind. "Only a born parselmouth can save us now. They're the only ones that can command the snakes on the Gorgons' heads to rest, and only then can they be imprisoned again."

After Harry left a very confused and distraught Snape behind, he went straight to the Room of Requirement and collected the diadem. Now he had the vast majority of Voldemort's soul in his possession and he was ready to start negotiations.

"Here's my offer," Harry said as he stepped inside Quirrell's office the next afternoon, not even waiting to be invited inside. "I'll let you live if you reabsorb the soul from the diary and promise to procreate and have at least three children. It can be done anonymously through a sperm bank or something, your choice."

"Mr Potter, what is the meaning of this?" Quirrell asked, unconsciously tugging on the front of his turban to make sure it was still firmly in place.

"Voldemort knows what I mean." Harry gave Quirrell his cheekiest smile. "It's either that, or I destroy all of his horcruxes. Diary, ring, locket, cup, diadem and myself."

"What", came a raspy voice from beneath the turban. "Why are you requiring these absurd requests of me?"

"Just look into my mind," Harry offered and as he stared into Quirrell's eyes they turned from brown to red and Harry's mind was suddenly conquered by a force he thought he'd never feel again. Having Voldemort root around in his head was so familiar it sent shivers of almost pleasure down Harry's back. No matter the feelings Harry battled with, he made sure to show Voldemort everything.

The Gorgons feasting on herd after herd of unicorns and centaurs and thestrals, leaving all as shrunken husks. Diagon Alley empty, the Ministry burned down to the ground, Hogwarts abandoned. He showed people Voldemort might recognize. Draco Malfoy's defiant death rattle as he desperately tried to protect his infant son. Marcus Flint standing firm side by side with Oliver Wood as they tried to shield a group of magical children whose parents had already fallen in their defence.

Harry showed him every death and grieving parent and child and every open-eyed body devoid of life he could remember until he finally couldn't take it anymore. His head pounded as he pulled back and looked at his lap, instantly exhausted.

"These Gorgons… how much do they destroy?" Voldemort asked, using Quirrell's mouth to speak.

"Almost everything and everyone. We were the last few magicals left in Britain, perhaps the entire world." Harry gave Voldemort a pleading look. "I know you're insane right now, but I also know that you genuinely love magic. Please don't let it get destroyed. You're the only one who can stop it."

"Why do you want me to father children?" Voldemort asked with a puzzled frown.

"The more parselmouths there are in the world, the better our protection against those monsters even far into the future. Ideally there should be dozens spread all over the globe. And there will be in the future if you sire a few offspring now," Harry replied patiently. He understood this whole situation must be beyond strange for Voldemort.

Voldemort nodded thoughtfully. "You want me to absorb my diary? Why?"

"So your resurrection will have a better chance of succeeding," Harry said quickly, not quite lying but also not quite telling the truth. "I'll even help you get the Philosopher's Stone. I know how to get through all the traps."

"Are you willing to swear an Unbreakable Vow to this effect?" Voldemort asked quietly, his gaze nothing if not calculating, trying to find any obvious pitfalls in Harry's offer.

"Absolutely."

"Very well. I will absorb the diary and sire at least three children anonymously, while you return my horcruxes to me, tell me how to get the Philosopher's Stone and swear not to kill me, now or ever." Voldemort leaned back in his seat, looking as though he was sure Harry wasn't going to agree with this.

But he clearly didn't understand how desperate Harry was to ensure the survival of magic itself. "Deal. Let's swear the Vow right now."

And that is what they did. Afterwards, Harry told Voldemort how to get through the traps. "You need to wait until after Yule. And don't bother trying to get the stone out of the mirror yourself. Just pack up the whole mirror, take it somewhere safe away from Hogwarts, and then use an unsuspecting muggle under the Imperius to get the stone out for you. That should do it."

"And what will you do?" Voldemort asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"Return to Bali. Get drunk. Get high. Get laid. Rinse and repeat." Harry gave Voldemort the biggest grin he was capable of, but his heart wasn't really in it. He just wanted away from Hogwarts and all the memories that constantly cut him where it hurt the most.

"If you wish to waste your entire life, that's not any of my business," Voldemort said, just a little snootily, and then waved Harry out of his office.

"I'm leaving," Harry said the next morning as he barged into Snape's office. "Just thought you ought to know."

"Potter, wait, what?" Snape rose from his seat behind his desk and gave Harry a disbelieving look. "You can't leave."

"Of course I can." Harry gestured helplessly at Snape. "Just imagine for a moment that you're suddenly stuck as a child again while mentally you are exactly like you are right now. Would you stay in school for year after year surrounded by nothing but eleven-year-olds? Or would you simply take an aging potion and go and live your best adult life?"

Snape's shoulders sagged and he gave an understanding nod. "Am I to assume then that you've reached an accord with the Dark Lord?"

"Yep."

"Is he going to stop killing people left and right?" Snape demanded, eyes narrowing as he glared at Harry as though he trusted him as much as he'd ever trusted James Potter, which was to say not at all.

"I have no clue," Harry said honestly. "If my calculations are correct, he'll be far less insane, but that's all I've got." Frankly, Harry didn't bloody well care. He'd already lost everyone he loved, no matter that their child versions were currently skipping about Hogwarts. They weren't his friends. All of Harry's friends were dead and gone and never coming back. Voldemort could have the wizarding world as long as he didn't destroy magic itself.

Harry returned to Bali because it was the only place in the world where he could forget about his pain. He got drunk and he got laid and he got high and he went skinny dipping with a whole new batch of Swedes and Danes and Norwegians. After a few months, Harry got a parttime job as a bartender at one of the most popular tourist bars. It earned him enough to life off, because life in Bali was relatively inexpensive. He rented a modest house, adopted a few stray cats and went to work with a spring in his step. Bartending was a great way to pick up men and women and Harry's bed was rarely empty.

It was just over two years until Harry heard from the British wizarding world again. All he knew was that it still existed, and that's all that mattered to him.

Just as Harry got ready to throw out the last few drunk stragglers and close up the bar, a tall, handsome man wearing a beige muggle suit walked into the bar. Harry would recognize that face anywhere.

Tom Riddle looked to be in his late thirties, more handsome than ever. He spotted Harry behind the bar and gave him a friendly nod in greeting.

"Just give me ten minutes to close up and then we'll talk." Harry figured that Riddle wasn't there to kill him because if he wanted to do that he could have simply cursed Harry in the back on one of the nights he got blackout drunk when he wasn't working. Harry would have been dead before even realizing what was going on.

But here Riddle was, waiting patiently for Harry to get done with his muggle job.

Harry led Riddle to his home where he poured them both glasses of vodka on the rocks.

"I think you'll be glad to hear that I've fathered five children throughout several sperm banks around the world. All were healthy babes as they were born. Three girls and two boys. Currently four more women are pregnant from my donations," Riddle said, sitting opposite Harry on the deck under a canopy of large, green leaves while sipping his vodka.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. That meant nine more parselmouths, who would go on to make even more parselmouths down the line. The magical world was truly protected for many years to come, perhaps even forever. "Thank you," Harry whispered sincerely, his throat suddenly tight with emotions.

"I'd say it was my pleasure, but that would be a lie," Riddle said in a droll voice. "It's rather a clinical affair, making donations to those organizations."

Harry couldn't stop the laugh from escaping him. "Still, I'm glad magic is safe."

"As am I," Riddle said, also sounding utterly sincere. Then he gave Harry a calculating look as he swished his vodka around in his glass. "You knew the diary would return me to my old self, didn't you?"

"I'd hoped it would," Harry said honestly, downing his own glass and quickly refilling it. "I'm glad it did."

"As am I," Riddle said with a sly little smile. Then he looked at Harry with something close to concern. "Are you truly happy to waste your life away here pouring drinks for drunk muggles?"

Shrugging, Harry sipped his glass. "It helps me cope, I suppose. I've lost everything, everyone I've ever cared about. I even lost my whole world."

"As have I," Riddle said with a knowing look.

Harry blinked and looked at Riddle with renewed interest. Riddle had lost everything, hadn't he? He'd even lost himself, and that was more than Harry had ever lost.

"Would you consider returning to Britain? They're still looking for a Defence teacher." Riddle chuckled, as though he'd just told a very funny joke. "I'd even tell you how to break the curse so you could teach for as long as you liked."

Harry considered it but ultimately shook his head. "I think it would be too painful. Seeing all those familiar faces day and day out, and knowing that they'll never be my old friends ever again. Sometimes you cannot recreate what was lost. I know that now."

"Fair enough." Riddle studied the glass in his hands for a moment. "I was considering travelling for a while. Visit the Americas. I heard that Ilvermorny was founded by a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. I wanted to check it out."

"That does sound interesting," Harry conceded.

"Come with me," Riddle said, staring Harry straight into his eyes, almost like a challenge. "We may have lost everything, Harry, but we still have each other. I know who you are, and you know who I am."

Blinking, Harry let that sink in. Riddle had a very good point. No one in the world, save for two people, knew who Harry really was, and one of them was asking him to spend some time with him. "I suppose I could come along on a little trip, at least for a while. Bali's not going anywhere."

"That's the spirit," Riddle said and downed his vodka.

Chuckling, Harry reached for the bottle and refilled Riddle's glass. Perhaps if he got the man drunk enough he could tempt him into his bed. Riddle had always been a handsome devil, after all. "I'm looking forward to it."

Riddle gave him a cheeky wink. "As am I."

The end.