Wrath
And my wrath shall wax hot, and I will kill you with the sword; and your wives shall be widows, and your children fatherless.
— Exodus 22:24
Story Key:
General Emphasis = Italic: "It means nothing," Harry kindly whispered in his brother's ear.
Spells Cast = Italics: "reducto," Lestrange screamed.
Transliterated and Translated words = Italics: didaskalia or Teacher
Thoughts= Italics: Oh, bloody hell, thought Harry…
Dates, Times, and Location = Bold Headings: July 31st, 1980 or Potter Manor
Dark, Distorted, or Demonic sounding voices = Bold Italics: "Grindelwald!" screamed Harry, unleashing a horde of spells at the murder.
Main Characters: Harry Peverell, Draco Malfoy, Gellert Grindelwald II (OC).
Pairings: There are none. Not really.
Summary: Harry is a broken and wrathful man. He is past the point of caring. Past the point of loving. He has lost all twice. But the hunt is not over. There is one Horcrux left to be found, and he will do anything to get it. "I'm sorry Joseph. I can't be the man you want me to be." To defeat him, I must become my namesake. I am Harry Peverell, the Master of Death. (Inconsistent Updates)
A/N: I don't deny my origins. This fanfic is based off of "World Changer" by Ariel Riddle. However, this is not that exact same story. There are similarities, but glaring differences. Also, notice the differences in titles. "The World Changer" vs. "World Changer". Perhaps she meant the same thing that I did. Perhaps not.
This is one fanfiction in a series/world that I am entitling the W.O.W. Universe. On my page, I have given a brief account of what each of those stories is about. However, I've given a little bit of detail in the beginning of this one.
Also, take note of the warning! I'm not joking. I do not update consistently. At times, I may post three to four chapters quickly. At other times, I will only update one a month. Reviews do help. They give me motivation. But I am working on another story. A crossover between Harry Potter and Gears of War. That story takes precedence over this one.
Finally, sorry for the short chapter. I try to average in at about 5,000 words per chapter, but sometimes I will post if I think the chapter is right in content even if it is short.
Thanks for reading.
(~~~~~~~~~~)
[1,400]
One year ago, in my world, the Dark Lord caught on to the fact that we were searching for his Horcuxes. He had to do something, and he did. He cast three of them into the multiverse. We've been to two of them. Erised and Sera.
It's only been about three months in our world since we began. It's been nearly ten years for Gellert and I.
This time though… Alby will be joining us.
This time though… I'll be doing things a little bit differently.
The mission remains the same. We've got to find the Diadem.
(~~~~~~~~~~)
Nurmengard Castle October 31st
"You weren't there with us, Albus! You didn't see what happened! What I lost! He's taken everything from me! He's been one step ahead of us every time, because we did the right thing. Well I'm done with all that!"
"Harry, this isn't what Joseph would have wanted."
I released a scornful laugh.
"How would you know what Joseph would want, Albus?! He's dead! Along with all of his congregation! No! No!" I was waving my arms around in absolute negation. "Fuck that! I'm not dying, and I'm not letting him get away with anymore. We do what needs to be done for every advantage. Who cares what lines we have to cross?"
The red headed man with his trim cut beard came close to me, grasping my hands, while his amethyst eyes stared into my soul. His voice was soft and gentle, pleading with me to listen.
"Harry, the only thing that separates us from him is the lines we won't cross."
My own eyes peered into his, and whatever he saw must have scared him, for I saw his mouth open, his eyes go wide, and terror cross him.
"I don't plan to become like him, Alby. I plan to become so… much… more. I will kill whoever I need. I will beat whoever stands in my way. I will stop at nothing. I will live up to my name's sake. I am Harry Peverell, the Master of Death."
We stood looking at each other for a long time. I knew that my eyes were glowing green. The same colour as the killing curse. His roamed my face. Searching. Perhaps for the man he once knew.
He turned around sharply. He moved over to a slim window, extra tall but extra skinny. There he could look outside and see the winter storm falling beneath us. Encased by the stone castle that we were in. The damp and filth still present reflecting everything that we were.
"I'll search for the Diadem… but Harry…"
His voice was even lower than before. It didn't sound like the kind, charming, and teasing brother that I knew. The voice that had every joke for every situation.
"I can't be a part of that."
With a pop, he was gone.
"Vell now what?" came another voice.
The man in question was tall. Extraordinarily so. He was also broad. Twice the width of your average man. All hard muscles. None could fault him though. He had a golden moustache and spikey golden hair. He had two eyes, like all of us, but he ran two separate colours. One a pale icy white and the other a soft caramel brown. The man always had a sharp, toothy grin on, but right now, he was all glower.
It was Gellert Grindelwald the Second. My best friend in the whole world. The man that had just left was Albus Dumbledore the II, the grandson of Dumbledore, the Dumbledore. He was perhaps a close second. But the man still here, we were closer than thieves, nuns, and slick politicians. He was my grounding rod. He was my Vassal. He was my brother.
He was a sharp dressed man in his typical blue suit with an even bluer overcoat. His pants, like muggle jeans, were dark blue. His boots were blue with gold. Even his vest was a lighter shade of blue. Just a blue suede shoe kind of a man. The only other colour he had on was a white button up shirt underneath all his blue swagger and a white Lucky Strike hanging out of his mouth.
Sighing, I walked over to him and held out my hand. His eyes widened partly, and a grin did threaten to pierce his lips. I was more of a cigar man personally. After Vernon introduced me to them, there was just no going back. But, right now, I could use just about anything.
He dug the packet out of his jacket pocket, flipped open the top, and flicked one out. You couldn't have been smoother if you tried.
Taking it, I rubbed across my lips, before lighting it with a flick of my finger. Coming up close to him, I leaned against the same wall he was, propping myself against it, and together, we stared up at the large window at the white ocean.
He didn't say anything, for long. He simply allowed me to collect my thoughts. Alby was gone. We were just back from Sera. And a war was still waging in our world. Other than that, life was swell.
"We continue as we planned," I said. "Your face will draw too much attention at Hogwarts. But in the underground, it just might work to your advantage. It might take me six months to comb through all of Hogwarts, maybe less if we're lucky. I figure Alby will search the mainland, so that gives you time to go through the filthiest parts of the magical world. You alright with that?"
The man just shrugged and said, "I guess so. Not az if ve have much choice. Still… is zis really ze best way to go about it."
"People will get suspicious if a new face—even a face like yours— begins poking around. This way, at least you'll have a reason."
"Still Arry… brewing Red Ice… zat's just wrong."
"This world is a lot more fucked up than ours. Who gives a damn if we make it a little worse? At least this way, we can make some good money. At the same time, you can begin building some bridges. Then, when it's all said and done, we can take all the galleons we made here and put into our own coffers."
"And who should I tell zem is cooking it? Hmm?"
"Tell them…" I stroked my clean shaven chin as I thought about. "Tell them… his name is Labatius."
He let out a snort at the picture.
"And just what is ze point of zis, hmm?"
Taking the cigarette out of my mouth, I used it as a prop to gesture.
"Gellert, we need money, and a fuck ton of it. That's the difference between Voldemort and us. He has all the gold in the world from his supporters with none of the values. If we're going to beat him, we've got to get on his level. I want so many fucking gold rolling in that we'll be smoking five-hundred galleon cigars without even blinking an eye."
The mane before me just sighed and shook his head in exasperation. "Very well. If zat is what you zink ve need to do, zen I shall get it done." He kicked off the brick wall and came to stand next to the bound up body on the ground.
He gave the guy a light kick, which didn't even jostle him in the slightest.
"What are ve to do about him?" he asked.
"I've combed through his whole mind. We got all we need from him, and really, he serves no greater purpose. This world's better off without him."
"Are you ze right man to make zat call?"
"No, I'm not. But we can't have any witnesses."
I raised my wand towards his downed figure.
I found the moment to stare at the man. Clean and perfect hair. Just like a proper pure-blood. Fancy clothes. Olive skin. It was eerie seeing him.
Flesh of my flesh. Bone of my bone.
At that moment, the man regained consciousness and like fate's mockery, his eyes found mine. Emerald on Emerald. He was full of fear and stock still with a doe eyed appearance. Like an animal caught by its prey. It was ironic really… in a way. All the people he had hurt. Just to lead to now. How… iconic.
"Avada Kedavra," I whispered.
(~~~~~~~~~~)
Now therefore let me alone, that my wrath may wax hot against them, and that I may consume them: and I will make of thee a great nation.
— Exodus 32:10
