Chapter Text
He had finished examining his new body, his snakelike guise, almost laughing as he did so, it may make him sound insane but he’d just regained form after living as a wraith for over a decade, it was deserved.
He looked over to where his prophesied saviour was tied up, wondering if he would see weakness or defiance in the boy’s eyes.
Instead, Potter was out cold against the statue, red blood glistening in his dark hair from where it had obviously hit something, hard.
“Wormtail! The boy was mine to kill! Crucio !”
Pettigrew cried and jerked under the curse. “Please, My Lord! I’m sorry! My Lord-”. His words dissolved into whimpers.
He let off the curse, while it felt good to finally use magic properly with his wand in his hand after all this time he’d only just been reborn, he was in no state to cast all night. He had been planning on calling his death eaters immediately, but he’d now decided against it, of course, he would still be strong if they were here now, he was the Dark Lord, but there was a difference between confidence and arrogance. They would know he was back from their marks darkening, let them stew and wait for his judgement. He’d meet them at his finest, he would not have any of his loyal doubt him, it had been a long wait after all.
“You’d better hope that boy’s not dead, Wormtail, or you’ll shortly be following him.”
Pettigrew snivelled from where he was cowering on the floor, clutching his injured handless arm into his chest, pathetic. If his animagus form was not so useful and the man hadn’t come to him at first with such important information he would’ve been dead long ago.
He stalked closer to Potter, and didn’t a simple thing like walking just feel amazing after so long without. The boy was breathing, if shallowly.
“Rennervate.”
Potter awoke slowly, blinking his eyes open, confused. He winced and opened his mouth, closed it again. He looked like he wanted to rub his head, which was sluggishly bleeding, before he realised he was tied to the statue.
“What the fuck ?”
Not exactly the reaction he was expecting.
“Are you ready to die, Potter? Did you really think you’d ever have a chance of defeating me , the Dark Lord?”
“ What the fuck ?” Potter repeated.
“Are you suffering from brain damage, boy?” He should just kill the boy now and get on with it, there was no point duelling him if there was no one but Wormtail to experience his victory.
The boy frowned and his features turned assessing. “I think so? Before you… kill me… if that’s what’s happening and we aren’t doing the most fucked up roleplay ever, do you think you could let me know who I am, who you are and what the fuck is going on here?”
“You expect me to believe that, Potter? You’re not getting out of here so easily.”
“So I’m called Potter then? Believe what you like, could you give me a rundown of this anyway? If I’m faking it doesn’t hurt you.”
Surprisingly well reasoned for someone reported to be a foolish and idiotic dunderhead.
“Very well, a quick once over of our history before I destroy you, no one can say the Dark Lord is not courteous. I am the Dark Lord and I was fighting a war over Wizarding Britain against the light. Before you were born I heard part of a prophecy stating a child born at the end of July would have the power to vanquish me, there were two born, and you were one, I set out to eliminate the threat-”
“With only part of a prophecy? What if it said this kid had the power to vanquish you but actually they would only do that if you went out and tried to kill them when they were a baby?”
“Quiet! Potter. Would you like me to get on with killing you instead?”
Potter raised his eyebrows, he did not seem suitably scared enough for the situation. But if he was to be believed, maybe he was suffering from some kind of delirium at being thrust into this situation, or he simply didn’t care for his life as he didn’t even remember it. But the boy did raise a good point, why had he set out to kill the boy over half a prophecy? He'd never put much stock in divination before; and when he tried to think back on it, his thoughts were… muddied, he didn’t like to think what that could mean.
He continued the recounting.“So I came to your house on the Samhain night of 1981.”
“Sorry - what year is it now?”
“1995.”
“Damn, I’m a kid?”
“You could not tell?”
“Well, one doesn’t exactly expect to wake up a child.”
That was rather interesting actually, if Potter’s amnesia was true and not fake, which he was starting to believe, it was rather hard to lie to a legilimens. It was a topic he’d never had much thought on. What would be instinctual in the boy’s mind and what would the memory loss have taken?”
“Anyway.” He said pointedly. “I killed your parents, raised my wand to kill you, and the next thing I know the curse is reflecting back at me and I’m forced out of my own body, it was only certain provisions I’d made that I survived at all.”
“How did I survive? The killing curse doesn’t work like- wow, how the fuck do I know that?”
Intriguing. “I do not know for sure. Now that I have a body it’s something I’ll be able to investigate. I believe Dumbledore thinks it was your mother’s love and sacrifice.”
“Well, that’s bullshit. And what kind of name is Dumbledore ? Who’s that?”
He couldn’t help letting out a laugh, in this body, it sounded high-pitched and grating. Dumbledore’s golden boy not knowing who he was, maybe he could work with this. And Potter thinking his mother’s sacrifice wasn’t the reason, was their saviour so disillusioned with love? Or was it the amnesia talking that he’d just yet to remember it?
“He is the leader of the light faction. A meddling old coot. But this then left me as a wraith, travelling and possessing small creatures and snakes to survive. It was a terrible, painful existence, I’m lucky I was in a sort of fugue state and the memories aren’t clear. Eventually, someone who wished to be a follower of mine found me, I partially possessed him and made my way to Hogwarts to steal the philosophers stone to use it to get my body back. It was your first year, you stopped me and killed the man-”
“A few questions, what’s Hogwarts?”
This boy, honestly. “A school for wizards and witches.”
“Right, so in my first year of school, I’m assuming it’s a secondary school so let’s say the age of about eleven, I think doing this at four is a stretch, I manage to stop you, the Dark Lord , and kill the man you’re possessing? Either I was fricking spectacular or you were incompetent. Or… or something else was going on.”
As much as the insult smarted and he had to fight the urge to crucio the boy, he had a point.
“Then I escaped, back as a wraith, time went on, and a servant found me.” He’d almost forgotten about Pettigrew. Who’d now stood up and was twitching while watching the conversation between him and Potter with confusion. “I managed to get you here and use your blood in my resurrection ritual, and now I’m going to kill you.”
Potter gulped, and then blinked a few times, his eyes closed for a second as if he was nodding off before he jolted awake again.
He realised with the head wound the boy should probably still be unconscious and staying that way.
“Right. Well, in my opinion, right now, while I’m a bit pissed off at being tied to a headstone and all, I don’t particularly want to defeat you, or really care about your war, and you haven’t listened to this full prophecy anyway, so we could possibly have some kind of allyship for the moment? And hey, if I’m some kind of big deal in this war, maybe you can impress all your values on me and I’ll suddenly switch sides and be your secret weapon.”
“Very Slytherin of you, Potter.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“Well, you do seem less of a bumbling fool than I’d originally believed. I’d like to see Dumbledore and his phoenixes scrambling when you go missing. You’ll come with me.”
“Great.” Potter said and passed back out against the statue.