Chapter 10: 10 - Making Waves
{Little Whinging, London}
{5th August 1989}
Since he had already gone to Riddle's Cave to collect his father, Matteo didn't see any point in waiting to collect the actual horcruxes. With both Marvel and DC influences present, it would be best if he nipped any future problems in the bud.
Matteo started with the Gaunt Shack.
The protections on it were honestly more disappointing than the cave– the only real defense was the compulsion charm, the allure of bringing those he loved back to life... but Matteo didn't have anyone like that.
All of his devoted, fervently loyal cock-sluts were still very much alive.
Not that the charm would be able to affect him anyway.
The ring itself, though... it reeked of death.
Horcruxes were foul objects, sure, but the 'death' that Matteo sensed... he was fairly certain it wasn't due to Voldemort's soul. No, for the center stone of the ring was a Deathly Hallow, granting those who held it the ability to talk to those past their time. That was what exuded the presence of death.
What that truly meant, Matteo didn't know.
For Scry did not work on it.
So after eradicating the soul fragment within it, Matteo 'stored' the artifact along with his father, deciding not to mess with it further.
At least not yet.
That left the book, the 'real' locket, the cup, the diadem, Harry Potter, and the snake.
The book could wait, since Matteo found the plot of the 'Chamber of Secrets' amusing, and found himself wondering how that would play out here. The locket would have to wait too, since that was in the hands of the Blacks... Matteo didn't want to meet them just yet.
The cup was at Gringotts, and with both him and Camilla going to Gringotts in a few days to retrieve their Vault Key and finish setting up their Vault, that could wait as well.
The diadem was at Hogwarts... and that would also have to wait, for obvious reasons.
Matteo couldn't just go to Hogwarts before taking the Hogwarts Express, no. He couldn't just do things out of order like that.
'The first time I see Hogwarts Castle... it has to be whilst crossing the lake. It's only right.'
That just left him with Harry Potter and Nagini.
So, doing what any normal person in his situation would do, he tracked the Potters down to Godric's Hollow, spying on the Potter Heir without any of the Potter's being the wiser... before realizing that Harry Potter was clean.
His scar was present, yes, but their was no shard of Tom Riddle's soul.
The obvious choice, then, was to track down Neville. He was the second candidate for the original prophecy, after all. And whilst his parents were dead in this timeline, not Crucio'd into insanity... Neville was also clean.
Annoyed, Matteo just used Scry to track Voldemort's soul pieces themselves.
His spell hit six targets– a book, a locket, a cup, a diadem, a child, and a wraith. With his true target made obvious, Matteo followed it to the source... all the way to Private Drive.
To the Dursley household.
That had been surprising in itself... but Matteo's surprise grew further, not expecting to sense such a powerful blood protection. It almost felt as if the entirety of the Dursley household was being protected by a higher power.
Entering the Dursley household with the intent to harm would be difficult, even for him.
However, James and Lily were still alive. Harry, along with the rest of his family, were living in Godric's Hollow, so Matteo didn't understand what he was looking at. But after casting a scrying spell with no intention to harm, just wanting to know the residents of the Dursley house, Matteo finally understood.
~Vernon Dursley.~
~Petunia Dursley.~
~Dudley Dursley.~
~Heather Dorea Potter.~
Unbeknownst to the wizarding world, there was another Potter.
'What to do, what to do...' with her protections, harming Heather Potter would be difficult, but Matteo saw no reason to do such a thing. No, he desired the opposite. Matteo wondered what would happen if he trained the abandoned Potter into the best witch she could be.
Turning her into the next Albus Dumbledore, or into the next Tom Riddle.
"Two whole years..." Matteo smiled.
'This'll be fun.'
***
{Dursley Household, Privet Drive}
{5th August 1989}
Heather was a freak.
Or at least, that was what Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon called her.
All Heather really knew was that her parents were freaks, which led to them dying. Not that Heather had any idea what that meant.
She just wished she didn't feel so damn sluggish all the time.
Every once in a while she'd get headaches, or chest pains, but every time the doctor said that there was nothing wrong with her. That she was perfectly healthy.
And her Aunt Petunia was just kind of... weird.
Sometimes she was angry with her, and would yell at her, but other times she looked really tired, and even sort of sad.
Heather didn't know why.
She just wished she had someone to talk to.
<Hey.>
Heather nearly cried out in fright.
She took a deep breath. She must've just been imagining it. 'Yeah, that must be it. How sad is that, that I'm making up voices to talk to–?'
<I assure you that I'm real.>
"Eep!" Heather startled, slapping a hand over her mouth.
She didn't want to wake anyone– she was lucky enough that she got to sleep in Dudley's spare bedroom. If Heather woke up Petunia or Vernon this late, she might be forced to spend the night in the cupboard!
<Haha, what a cute cry!>
"You..." Heather growled. "Where are you?!" she yelled as quietly as she could, whipping her head around Dudley's second room, trying to pinpoint a voice.
<I'm inside your head, sweetie.>
Heather stilled. "I-Inside my head?"
Was she still imagining things? But if she wasn't, and this voice was real, how was she supposed to defend herself from a... from a voice inside her head?!
<Don't worry, I don't bite. I just wanted to talk to you.>
"...Why?"
<Because you're quite the enigma, Heather.>
Heather didn't know that word, but at the same time, it didn't sound like an insult.
"Who are you?"
<My name is Matteo.>
Heather furrowed her brow. "Wait... HOW are you inside my head??"
<I'm not actually inside your head, silly. I'm a telepath.>
'A telly-path...?' Heather bit her lip. She had heard that word before. 'That's... that's the superpower that lets you talk with your mind, right?'
<That's correct! Good job, Heather.>
Heather blushed. "Did I say that out loud...?"
<I'm a telepath, remember? I can hear your thoughts.>
"What?! Don't do that!" she exclaimed.
<Don't worry, I'm not looking around in there. I just wanted to talk to you.>
The voice in her head, now Matteo, said that again.
But Heather still didn't understand.
"Why..." she mumbled, "why would you want to talk to me?"
<Because you're like me.>
Her eyes widened. 'I'm a telly-path too?'
"No, silly," said Matteo, but this time Matteo wasn't a voice in her head, but a boy standing just at the edge of Dudley's spare bedroom.
"You're a witch, Heather."
***
{Dursley Household, Privet Drive}
{5th August 1989}
"I'm– my family's famous?" she asked in disbelief.
For Heather, accepting that she was a witch hadn't been all that hard. Petunia had been calling her a freak for as long as she could remember, and it would make sense if that 'freakishness' of hers referred to magic.
But to think that her mother, father, and her... her twin brother were famous.
She was a twin.
She even had two younger sisters.
Her family was alive.
But that just left Heather with another question.
"Why... why did they abandon me?"
"Hrmm," Matteo frowned. "I'm not sure, but before that, let me tell you about Voldemort."
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Voldemort.
A name that inspired fear.
A wizard that grew up just like her. No knowledge of the wizarding world, ostracized by his peers, but from a famous family nonetheless– the Gaunts.
He drove himself crazy trying to make himself immortal with dark magic, and then he rallied a bunch of racist witches and wizards to kill all the 'blood-traitors' and 'mudbloods.'
Terrorizing the wizarding world for 10 years.
"But, but what does Voldemort have to do with me?"
Matteo smiled at her. "Well, when you were still just a baby, Voldemort had charged into the Potter household with the intention to kill both Harry and Heather Potter."
Her eyes widened. Seeing that she was still alive, something must've gone wrong.
"What happened?"
Matteo's answer just brought her more questions.
The Killing Curse.
One of the three Unforgivables, a curse that always kills the target on impact– sending them straight to the afterlife without so much as a scratch.
Instant, unavoidable death.
And she had survived it, gaining a lightning shaped scar on her forehead.
"How?"
"I'm actually not sure," Matteo answered. "But, even though I said it was impossible to defend yourself from it, there is one way to do so that I know of."
"And what's that?"
"Love," he answered simply.
"Love?" she scoffed. "Really?"
"Yes, really," he doubled down. "If a mother sacrificed herself to protect the life of her child, the protection that such a sacrifice would grant would be enough to not only block, but to reflect the Killing Curse upon the caster, killing them."
Heather hesitated to ask her next question. "Did... did my mother–"
"She's still alive," he cut her off. "No one in your family died that night."
"Oh..." But then how did she survive?
"But I have a theory," he continued. "I believe that the reason you survived has something to do with you being one of two– a twin. That both you and your brother protected each other out of an unconscious, innate sense of love for each other, thwarting Voldemort together."
"Is that... is that really possible?" she asked.
"No idea," he answered. "But do you want to find out?"
Heather blinked. 'Why wouldn't I–'
"Voldemort is still alive–" her breath hitched– "and he still wants you dead. A lot of Voldemort's supporters want you dead as well. But if you come with me, I can teach you magic, and make you stronger than Tom Riddle ever was.
Strong enough to protect yourself from Voldemort.
Strong enough to live up to the Potter name.
Strong enough... to make your parents regret ever abandoning you."
For the longest time, Heather had thought she was a freak.
Now that she knew why, she was sad, confused, but most of all... she was angry.
Angry at her parents for abandoning her. Angry at her aunt for hiding things from her. But even though she was angry, she was still excited.
"Please take me with you!"
Because she was going to learn magic.
Unbeknownst to Heather, though, there was a glint in Matteo's eyes– he had to fight the feral smile from flashing across his face. Oh, Matteo had so many ideas as to what he could do to the Potters, but... they had dug their own grave.
Matteo hadn't lied when he had said that Harry and Heather protected each other, but he it might've neglected to mention that... it hadn't been enough. Harry and Heather had both been gravely injured, and doomed to slowly die. So, using what was most definitely a forbidden magic, the Potters... they made a decision.
Matteo looked at the two pieces of Voldemort's soul, the fragments poorly fused and grafted to each other, both of them slowly but surely killing Heather Potter.
'When she finds out that she wasn't just abandoned, but sacrificed, and by no less than her own family...' Matteo grinned wickedly, 'oh, I can hardly wait.'
***
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The next chapter, Reverence, releases April 1st, 11:00AM (MDT).
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