I'm sure those of you reading this in the Cauldron thought it was a High School DxD crossover, BUT IT WAS I, DI...okay, no. Given that I am double-posting this in both the Cauldron and Zelretch's Collection of Alternates, you know this is a Nasuverse crossover.

After a relatively long absence from the Nasuverse, I found myself wanting to revisit it this year. To that end, I recently wrote my Harry/Barghest fic, Out of the Strong Came Forth Sweetness. That came to an end, but Book 2 of that story, set during the events of Fate/Grand Order, is slowly but gradually taking shape. No guarantees as to whether it will be published, but I'm more hopeful now than I was before.

But aside from some new pairings I wanted to explore (like Aesc/Lostbelt Morgan, Ibuki-Douji, Anastasia and Brynhild, along with doing a full-length version of my Arcueid pairing fic, once I play more of Tsukihime, anyway), I found myself wanting to revisit older pairings. In particular, the two main waifus of Fate/Stay Night, Medusa and Medea. Yes, Arturia is the best female character in the game, but Medusa and Medea are the best waifus.

I tried another story with Medea, but it faltered quickly, and my previous attempts for these pairings range from the utterly cringy to the decent but dissatisfying. However, I believe I have some story ideas that may work, and this Harry/Medusa fic is the first cab off the rank. No guarantees it will become a full fic, as usual.

Before we get to the chapter proper, though, I should make an announcement. As part of my annual December mass-update, I will be posting sample chapters both in the Cauldron and in Zelretch's Collection of Alternates of the abortive sequel for my Harry/Tiamat story Primordial Song. Titled Melody of Unease, it was intended to be set during the Epic of Remnant arc of Fate/Grand Order, but I barely got started on Shinjuku before my motivation to write it tuckered out, not helped by revelations in the canon game. 6 chapters are completed, and I will see if I can finish the seventh, as it shows Salter's arrival in an awesome manner. That way, you can get a glimpse into what I intended. Elements I intended for Melody of Unease will make it into Book 2 of Out of the Strong Came Forth Sweetness.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy...

ÓPHIS

CHAPTER 1:

REBIRTH OF A GODDESS

I write this epistle to the future, away from the eyes of the so-called goddess of wisdom. I write, so that others may yet learn the truth about the goddess I worshipped in secret, a goddess I was forced to grant the mercy of Thanatos to. Only my wife and my mother knew the truth of that day. I hope one day, the truth will become known too. However, I fear Athena's wrath, once I perish, will be great. She will try her utmost to destroy or pervert any attempt at the truth coming out, or any kind of justice done. Ironic, is it not, that a goddess of wisdom is more petulant and foolish than the mortal women I love?

You know my story, thanks to the songs sung and the poems recited. But you don't know the truth. My mother and I were secret worshippers of the one I would eventually be forced to slay, along with her sisters. They were not as capricious as the Olympians, and yet, many of the Olympians dubbed them monsters.

When King Polydectes sought to woo my mother, whether she wished to or not, I protected her as best as I could, but his cunning and cruelty was meant to send me away in shame. In truth, despite what the songs say, I offered the head of my goddess, knowing full well what it entailed. But where they saw me slaying a monster, I knew I was giving my goddess the mercy she needed.

Now, my adventures are over. The goddess I slew still had followers, Athena's curse to make her hated did not affect us all. And so, I gave the head to them. A ritual they would use to one day revive our goddess, guided by the spirits of her sisters. We have taken every precaution we could, but Athena is spiteful, and should she learn the truth, her wrath will be terrible.

On my final moments in life before I am drawn to Hades, I will claim I gave the head to Athena. One last insult towards the goddess who ruined my own's life, and so many others. Her power is waning, so let us hope she cannot retaliate.

And so, before I discuss my true adventures in greater detail, I, Perseus, must say this. To my true goddess, Medusa…I am sorry for taking your head. Perhaps one day, you will read these words, and find it in your heart to forgive me…

In the Mediterranean, there are many islands untouched by mundane people, many of them with a connection to Greco-Roman myth. Aeaea, for example, the former island of Circe, the part-divine witch of the Odyssey fame, remains hidden to most. The few who do are usually elite Cursebreakers of Gringotts, Magi on research expeditions from Clock Tower, or the foolish and greedy who wish to raid the treasures of the notorious witch. The last category, for the most part, were turned into pigs.

Each of these islands had secrets. Some of them were not that sinister. But others were not. There were rumours of a hidden island, known only to a secretive evil cult, where the last remains of one of Greece's greatest monsters was interred. Said cult intended to revive the demon, and lay waste to the world.

But truth can be twisted into falsehood. The spite of a deity is one of the most potent forces in the world. Yet out of such evil and cruelty, something good can still arise. Such would be the case on that island…

"Wake up, Potter!"

Harry Potter was all but choking on the jet of ice-cold water, like something out of a firehose, sprayed into his face. He spluttered and coughed, before blinking his eyes blearily. Everything was a blur until his glasses were thrust roughly onto his face. The rodent-like face showed it to be none other than Wormtail, and Harry had just barely enough wherewithal to spit into the face of the man who betrayed his parents, and so many in the Order of the Phoenix.

As Wormtail recoiled in disgust, wiping his face, a high, cold voice laughed, the same voice that had told him to wake up just as he was being sprayed with cold water. "It seems your capture has not dulled your defiance, Harry Potter. For all his vaunted bravery, your fire is very much your mother's. A shame that fire must be snuffed out, but alas, we both know how this ends."

Harry Potter blinked away the water still trickling into his eyes, and peered blearily at Voldemort. Recollection was fuzzy. They were just fleeing Little Whinging after his 18th birthday, many of his friends disguised via Polyjuice Potion. Harry was going with Hagrid, but…

"If you're wondering where Rubeus and your owl are, I'm sorry to report that they are dead, along with Alastor Moody," Voldemort said with a tone of mock sorrow, before bowing briefly and insincerely. "My condolences."

"How kind of you," Harry retorted hoarsely. "Considering either you or your minions murdered them!"

"You cannot murder beasts, and let's be honest here, Harry Potter, Rubeus was little better than the very beasts he cared for," Voldemort said. "I mean, he kept an Acromantula as a pet. An Acromantula, I ask you! That is not a sign of a sound mind. Neither was Moody's paranoia, but that was a different kind of madness."

"This coming from the man who keeps that Nagini around, or that Basilisk?"

"The Basilisk was never my pet, Potter, but it was a useful attack animal. As for Nagini…I do not consider her a pet, but a familiar. Now, hush a moment, I wish to talk." A Silencing Charm cut off any further attempts by Harry to speak. "Do you know where you are, Harry Potter? It is a rhetorical question, of course, but have a look around. I want you to see the place where you are to die."

Harry did so, albeit reluctantly. As much as he wanted to break down, at Hagrid's death, at Moody's, at Hedwig's, he didn't have time to. He didn't know whether it was resignation to his own death, or a desire to bide his own time to figure out a means of escape, assuming it was possible. He hoped it was the latter more than the former.

They seemed to be in an underground chamber, with strange murals on the walls, writ in black, red, and violet. It seemed to show a story, of three girls with violet hair, one becoming a woman, then a monster that devoured the other two. The monster was then slain by a man wielding a scythe-like weapon. The style of the murals and the architecture looked vaguely Greek, if he didn't know any better, and there was lettering that reminded him of Greek.

The other Death Eaters were gathered in the shadows. The Malfoys were conspicuous by their absence, but Wormtail, Bellatrix and the other Lestranges, Fenrir Greyback, and the like were present. The audience to his death. He was chained to a pillar to one side of the room with thick, heavy chains that felt like something far heavier than even lead.

There was a bench with alchemic equipment. Oddly enough, there was a pair of glasses and what looked like a contact lens case, and a white robe. Were they meant for someone?

Oddly enough, though, his eyes were then drawn to a strange, pearly round oblong in the middle of a ritual circle. It seemed about the size of a phone booth, and seemed to glow gently from within, a murky shape faintly visible within the otherwise opaque object. With a start, he realised it looked nothing more than a giant egg, large enough to hold an entire person.

After about half a minute to let Harry observe the room, Voldemort tired of the silence, and said, "I'm curious, Potter…how much do you know about Medusa and her fellow Gorgons Stheno and Euryale? The myths written about by ignorant fools or sycophants of the Olympians claim them to be monsters born from sea-monsters, but they were in fact deities born from the hearts and minds of men. Creatures of lethal beauty who could ensnare their hearts. Medusa was the youngest Gorgon, but she was born imperfect, ageing slowly but surely. Yet her beauty entranced many, until Athena, the accursed Olympian, inflicted her malison upon her. Medusa had already been cursed with her eyes by the deity Cybele, but Athena turned most of her followers against her, fearing both her beauty and her power. Medusa succumbed to madness, unable to take her just revenge on the Olympians, devouring her sisters. And then, Perseus made himself known."

Merlin, this snake-faced bastard loves the sound of his own voice, Harry thought to himself.

"Athena cursed Medusa not just out of petty jealousy, but because she truly feared the Gorgon and her power," Voldemort continued. "But then, her head was retrieved from the perfidious grasp of Perseus, and brought here for a solemn ritual to bring her back to life by her faithful. It was a long ritual, for one does not bring anything back to life trivially, least of all a dark goddess. I discovered the Cult of Medusa when I discovered Slytherin's study within the Chamber of Secrets, uncovered the secret, where the ritual was taking place, under a concealment magic that makes the Fidelius look like child's play, given that it had to conceal this place from a god. Diminished though she was after the advent of Sephyr, the White Titan of Velber, Athena still had power until she finally perished some centuries ago. And now, the ritual is almost over. Medusa will be brought back into the world by my side, to lay waste to all who oppose me."

Voldemort went over to the bench and fiddled with the glasses. "It had best be soon. I took these from a rather dangerous woman, a Magus who has the appellation of 'Scarred Red'," he remarked. "Touko Aozaki is a most dangerous woman, one of the most dangerous of those otherwise indolent fools in Clock Tower. Not that it will matter once Medusa is reborn, but she captured Macnair, and she is extremely ruthless. She may even discover us."

Clock Tower? Harry vaguely recalled something Hermione and Luna had discussed with him. How wizards and witches were only one part of magical society, with another lot, the Magi being their rivals and even bitter enemies.

But then, a cracking noise came from the egg. Then, it split in two. A tide of slime oozed out, bringing with it, a feminine shape, curled up in the foetal position, completely naked save for the gunk clinging to it.

Voldemort plucked the glasses from the table, before placing them on the face of the body, rather tenderly. "These are Mystic Eye Killers," he hissed in Parseltongue gently. "Forgive me the temerity of placing these on your person, Lady Medusa, but I would rather your faithful not be petrified by your presence."

Suddenly, the body spasmed, coughing out slime. The body convulsed and writhed as it expelled the ooze that it had been floating in. A rebirth of one of the most infamous monsters in mythology. Then, once it stopped coughing, it got to its feet, unsteadily, but it refused Voldemort's help.

Harry couldn't help but stare. Medusa appeared to be a woman, a relatively normal woman at that. True, she was tall, her body slender and buxom, her hair a shade of purple. Yet there were no reptilian features, no snakes for hair or claws or wings.

She then turned to look at Voldemort, and then to Harry. Harry had to fight down a blush. The naked woman could very well have been a goddess, her face a picture of inhuman and yet gentle beauty, framed by her long mane of purple hair. Her eyes weren't that notable either. True, they had a rectangular pupil, and were a very pale shade of pink, but behind those glasses, they did nothing. They peered at him, looking him up and down, before Voldemort handed her the robes. Wordlessly, she took them, dressing herself.

She then looked at her hand. "I'm alive?" she asked in Parseltongue, her voice a husky and gentle contralto. "But…my sisters…?"

"Sadly, Lady Euryale and Lady Stheno are long lost to us," Voldemort replied, before bowing. "I am Lord Voldemort, your humble servant, Lady Medusa. We have been awaiting your advent for a long time. Over three thousand years have passed since your demise at the hands of Perseus, the pawn of the accursed Olympians. But most are dead now, including Athena, and the rest diminished and impotent. The time is ripe for your second advent. With your help, I can bring all humans to heel, destroy or conquer the wretched who curse and despise your very name, or spit on what magic stands for, and bring your faithful to you. I have even prepared a sacrifice." Voldemort indicated Harry.

Medusa turned, and then approached him, peering at him up and down, her expression unreadable. "This boy? A sacrifice?"

"Indeed. He is a powerful wizard for a boy, but he made the choice to stand in the way of my rise. He and his ilk spit on our ways of life, that purity and strength are what matters. You and I both know that there is no good and evil, only power, and those too weak to seek it. He is like Perseus, the pawn of those who have no right to hobble those who seek power. Thus, given that your power may be at a low ebb during your resurrection, I give him to you to feed on."

Medusa still peered into his eyes. Harry was afraid, and yet, he also felt strangely calm and serene. He knew death was going to come for him sooner or later, especially with Voldemort still around. But at the hands of a fallen goddess? He wished Voldemort had not Silenced him, otherwise, he could try to plead his case, not that he could against her.

However, something flashed over her features, a brief frown. She seemed to sniff quietly. Then, seeming to come to a decision, she leaned in close to his ear, and whispered, in Parseltongue, "If you understand me, make yourself comfortable if you can. I will make this quick."

Her body tensed, lowering her mouth down, as if to bite him like a vampire, before she reached down to his chains…and snapped them, as if the thick links were little more than styrofoam! Before he could react, she pushed him down, and whirled to face the Death Eaters, whipping the massive heavy chain around. Some of the Death Eaters ducked, including Voldemort. Most didn't, and the chain, moving like a whip, like a snake, smashed into skulls, pulping them like rotten fruit. Wormtail was one of them.

"You are far from the only monsters in human skin to try and demand or negotiate an alliance with me," Medusa hissed as she whipped the chain around, before leaping into the air, and landing on Nagini, pulping the snake's head. "I will not be anyone's pet."

"CRUCIO!" screamed Bellatrix. Medusa spasmed briefly, before leaping at her with her lips peeled back in a snarl of fury, grabbing her head and smearing it across a wall. A mural depicting a monster devouring the two purple-haired siblings was covered in blood and brain matter.

As Medusa finished off the remaining Death Eaters, Voldemort readied what had to be a Killing Curse, his wand glowing green as he aimed for Medusa's back. Harry didn't know whether Medusa could survive the Killing Curse, or whether Voldemort was the lesser of two evils, and Medusa's freeing of him was merely because the Death Eaters offended her. After all, this was one of mythology's most infamous figures.

And yet…she could have killed him then and there, and then attacked the Death Eaters. Hoping he was making the right choice, Harry, in desperation, used a silent, and wandless Expelliarmus. And the spell spat from his hand, hitting Voldemort, sending him flying, while his wand spun away.

Medusa caught him in one hand by the throat. Instead of Parseltongue, she said a single word. "Érrhe(1)." With that, she tore out his throat with her hand, and left him to choke on his own arterial spray dribbling into his lungs.

A droplet of blood landed on her lips as Voldemort collapsed, and stilled. She licked it, and then grimaced. "As inbred as the Olympians, and with about as many morals," she said.

Then, Medusa walked over, and met his gaze. For a moment, she stared at him impassively, before a faint and gentle smile touched her lips. "Forgive me for my phrasing earlier, if you understood me," she said. "That was in case that monster overheard me."

Harry was taken aback by her tenderness. It seemed sincere, and yet, this was THE Medusa. The infamous Gorgon that Perseus slew. And yet, she seemed, her inhuman aspects aside, to be more humane than the Death Eaters she had just slaughtered. "Uhh, you're welcome?" he said uncertainly in English. Seeing her blink in puzzlement, he tried in Parseltongue. "You're welcome, but…you're not going to eat me?"

"Why would I?" She seemed genuinely puzzled. But before she could say anything further, footsteps came from the entrance. She put Harry behind her, grabbing the chains, ready to fight.

The figure that walked through, seemingly unhurriedly, was an Asian woman of indeterminate age, anywhere from her late twenties to her forties, but attractive. Her red hair was done up in a ponytail, and she had a trenchcoat over her outfit. Innocuously, she was carrying a briefcase.

The woman took in the scene, and blinked in surprise. "…I see," she eventually said in English. "That's why the Bounded Field over this place has come down. Because it had served its purpose. A shame I didn't get to witness the end of the so-called Lord Voldemort, though."

"Who're you?" Harry asked.

"I'm Touko Aozaki," the woman said. "You're Harry Potter, the recently-kidnapped Boy Who Lived, and who just survived this situation, and, if what I'm guessing is true, this is Medusa, or one of her sisters. And I think this is a conversation best held in the fresh air, don't you? Because like it or not, tonight has been a major event in more ways than one…"

CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:

So, Medusa has been revived in the modern era. But Voldemort made the mistake of thinking she would be allied with her. Nope.

This Medusa is the original, or rather, the same soul, but her body is a clone, cloned by magical ritual from her severed head. It took ages because they were cloning a goddess, and trying to ensure Athena could not interfere. We'll get the details later, but basically, Medusa's body is the same, more or less, as her Rider self, while she has a hybrid of her Rider and Avenger self's abilities. And even now, newly reborn and weakened compared to her pre-Gorgon self, she still has superhuman strength, speed, and senses.

Also, why did Perseus claim the Medusa Cult was benign, and yet, Voldemort and Slytherin were part of it? All will be revealed…

1. Ancient Greek for 'go to hell', or at least a similar meaning.