Teknevra

When the muggles started up Wicca in the 1930s and 1940s (and particularly when the witchcraft laws in Britain were revealed in 1951, thus allowing Wicca to be practiced openly and to spread) the Goblins saw the Purebloods looking down on the muggleborn asking about it, and the Goblins chose to adopt aspects and practices of Wicca to their magics and societal holidays.

This just makes the purebloods, and the magically raised, even more disparaging of the Goblins and dismissive of muggleborns asking after "goblin" stuff

In that moment, he felt Voldemort recoil not from the threat to life, but from the threat of pain.

Harry couldn't help but grin viciously at this revelation.

After hearing the full prophecy later that night, Harry couldn't help but celebrate in the lesson Bellatrix had so generously taught him.

While he may not be able to bring himself to truly desire to inflict pain for the joy of it typically; for Voldemort he was willing make an exception.

No, he would gleefully revel in it.

He would savor it.

And if his genuine joy happened to bleed through into Voldemort and cause further pain, all the better.

Tom Riddle dies, and after 823,543 time-compressed years his soul is pieced back together, whole and complete.

He meets his grim reaper who is pissed because he didn’t fulfil the prophecy. Tom gives him a curious gaze, getting mad at his reaper for making him go through all that, actually having feelings for once in his life and now he wants him to go back!

Reaper explains that the prophecy never actually stated who the Dark Lord was and without him, it would have simply taken on a different form. The Reaper explains how ‘dark’ it must be to wilfully ignore the suffering of children, which the headmasters of Hogwarts have proven time and time again. Riddle scoffs that Albus ‘Leader of the Light’ Dumbledore would ever be dark, but his Reaper explains that the ‘darkness’ can take many forms.

The Reaper tells him that he will never find peace if he doesn’t go back and try to undo the suffering he had caused, especially when he has the means to override the headmasters of Hogwarts as hereditary Guild Leader of Slytherin. He must convince Henry Potter, Eileen Prince and Amalia Bones of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, respectively, to unite the four corners of Hogwarts and defend its students from threats both inside and outside the castle. The Reaper will send him back to his fifth year, before he split his soul for the first time.

Tom is annoyed at first that he has to go back to the orphanage, right in the middle of the second world war, but the Reaper gave him a special task. He must save the life of new-blood student Helen Ambers who would have had a ‘family gift’ of combining electron fields with magical fields i.e. bringing electric magics to magical Britain.

Without her gifts, the magical world had not been able to make similar developments in magic that the muggle world did with science and technology. If allowed to continue, the magical world would be discovered within a century due to magicals being unable to protect itself. The reaper warns him that there are both traditional and progressive forces that do not want to enable the development of 'technomancy' at Hogwarts and would seek to supress this girls’ talents. However, if this girls’ talents are nurtured appropriately, it is possible that the biggest fear (i.e. nuclear weaponry) could be counteracted by a combination of magics, including 'electromancy,' ensuring the safety of the nation.

Harry knocks on the large wooden doors to the headmaster's office. “Professor Dumbledore, could I talk to you for a moment?”

“Ah, Harry my boy, of course. How are your classes going?

“They’re going well. Professor Lupin has been teaching me how to cast the Patronus charm.”

Dumbledore beamed. “That’s wonderful to hear.”

“I wanted to ask you something about… About Tom Riddle’s Diary.”

The smile fell off of Dumbledore's face and he gave a tired sigh. “What is it you wish to know, Harry?”

“That Diary… it wasn’t a normal dark artifact, was it, sir?” Harry asked

Dumbledore tensed. “What makes you say that?”

“Is it really possible to store a memory in a Diary?”

“Well, it is certainly possible to place memories into inanimate objects.” Dumbledore deflected. “Just look at the numerous portraits across the castle.”

“But that’s just it!” Harry exclaims. “The portraits, they’re just impressions. They don’t think or act on their own. Not like Riddle’s diary did. And sapping Ginny’s life away to strengthen itself… A memory couldn’t do that.”

Dumbledore sighs heavily and deflates. “No, you are quite right, my boy. What that diary contained was much more sinister than a mere memory.”

“What was it, then?”

“I had been planning to tell you about it later, but I suppose I may as well tell you now. I believe that Diary was something called a Horcrux. I will not go into detail, but suffice to say, Tom performed a ritual to split himself.”

“A Horcrux…” Harry mused.

“It is the foulest of magical rituals, Harry.” Dumbledore warned sternly. “Do not go looking for information pertaining to them.”

“Of course,” Harry nodded quickly.

“Now, I must ask, what brought about this question?” Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and popped a lemon drop into his mouth.

“Well, the thing is, Professor…” Harry began nervously, “I think Hermione may have created a Horcrux.”

Dumbledore choked on his lemon drop.

“Harry my boy," Dumbledore said after coughing up his lemon drop. "I’m sure I must have misheard you. Did you just say that you think Miss Granger created a Horcrux?”

“Hermione has been acting strangely all term. I remember when we got our schedules, Hermione had some overlapping classes. I thought it was just a mistake or something, and she wasn’t actually taking all those classes, but the other day, she mentioned something about a project she was working on for Ancient Runes. I asked around, and people say that she’s never missed a class. But Ancient Runes is at the same time as Divination! And she’s always in Divination with me and Ron. Somehow, she’s in two places at once! And then I remembered the Diary. And you just said that a Horcrux lets someone split themselves…” Harry took a deep breath and licked his lips nervously. “I think Hermione created a Horcrux so that she could take extra electives.”

Harry Potter took a random muggle's polyjuice and walked away under his invisibility cloak to the nearest train station and took a train (or bus?) to Devon (Ottery St Catchpole).

Voldemort was furious, how did the boy escape ?

Snape was livid, how dare that arrogant little fool ruin his plans.

The pureblood death eaters were confused, they thought the train only went from London to Hogsmeade. No one told them there were other trains.

No one died, George didn't lose an ear.

The Luckiest of Them All

Harry walked through the halls of Hogwarts, spells flying around him yet not one hitting him. He almost drowned in a bulk batch of Felix felisis when he was a baby. That may explain some of his strange behavior. A streak of green light flew past his head, while the floor collapsed beneath where his feet had been a couple seconds ago. He walked up to the great hall and dodged another killing curse. He wondered whether he could ever be killed. Honestly, after that stunt with the shopping cart in the third year, he didn’t think it could really happen.

“Harry, I dare you to go down the astronomy tower in a shopping cart.” Ron said, too tired to really comprehend what he was asking.

“Ok. I’ll do it at midnight tonight. That should give you enough time to spread the word.”

“Wait, bro, I wasn’t being serious! You could die!”

“Do you honestly think that could happen? I have had about twelve attempts on my life since I started school, and I’m still here, so what could go wrong?”

“Well, you haven’t been trying to die all those times, so you might because you tried.”

“I’ll take the risk.” Harry said with a laugh. At ten before midnight, Harry Potter and about 50 other students where at the astronomy tower with a muggle trolley, a stopwatch, and a blindfold (courtesy of Fred and George) ready to leave. Harry climbed into the cart, put on the blind fold, and let the two large Slytherin boys pick up the brunette and his container.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ron asked, obviously afraid for his friend.

“I’ll be fine. Drop it boys!” Harry screamed as the boys dropped his cart off the side of the tower. It felt like the coolest roller-coaster ever made. The drop straight down, the feeling of his bottom coming off of the trolley just a bit, and the pull in the pit of his stomach, just waiting for it to pull up, though he knew it never was. The crash was more than a bit jarring, and he could feel his right leg snap. The entire staff heard his scream before he blacked out.

“Harry, you’re ok now. There’s nothing wrong. It’s only a clean leg break, nothing too bad. Madam Pomphrey gave you some Skelegrow so you should be up and ready for class in a couple hours.” A kindly face looked down at him, so of course his reaction was;

“F**k off, you bloody git.”

“Remember Harry, we do not use language in this school.”

“We bloody well use language in this school.”

“No, we do not. Now your leg should be mostly healed up by now, but you are going to stay here for a couple more hours.”

And he was double sure because of that incident in fifth year.

He was just about to go skydiving when Snape intercepted him in the hallway. The greasy haired man looked like he was having a bad headache and he couldn’t take another pill for an hour.

“I have heard from some very reliable resources that you are going to jump off of your broom from 30 meters up at noon today Mr. Potter.”

Harrys high crashed. Hermione just had to tell on him, didn’t she? Well, Harry knew a way around this.

“You gotta catch me first.” And with that Harry took off running, yelling that the broom jumping was being rescheduled to now. Almost all of the students that heard him followed, especially when they saw Snape chasing behind him. It was a given this would escalate, as the last time something like this happened, Hagrid had to spend three hours trying to get the basilisk out of the lake. He ran through the doors opened by some helpful Hufflepuffs, and grabbed his broom from the locker room, almost being caught by Snape on his way out. He ran out to the middle of the quidditch field and took off. He flew up about 30 meters up, whooping in triumph. He stood on the broom, and slowly fell forward, casting a cushioning charm below him just before he hit the ground. Harry stood up next to an infuriated Snape, and spread his arms. A resulting cheer resounded from the stands where more than 70 students watched.

And that is why he is essentially immortal. He guessed that only old age could kill him off, in the end. Harry stepped left and narrowly avoided a crumbling wall. He always tried to help others with his luck, as it seemed to rub off on them when he was around. He pulled a young girl out of the way of an Imperius curse, smiled sweetly at her, and continued on his mission. All of the horcruxes where destroyed, one by a very helpful Neville, so he was clear for the kill.

He walked into the great hall, and saw the chaos ensuing. Voldemort was dueling three different aurors at a time, and one was slowing down. Harry took his place and started fighting his way closer. The rest of the aurors fell back, stunned at the skill of the young wizard. He was fighting with everything he had, and driving the older man back against the wall. They dodged all of the spells the others sent at them, good and bad. Voldemort began to gain a bit more ground, the tension rising with every step. Eventually, the two dueling foes where back in the middle of the hall, ready for the kill. They both circled around each other, each hesitant to kill the other. They paused, getting ready for the kill.

“Avada Kedavra!” They both screamed in unison. The two enemy’s disintegrated at the same time. Voldemort’s last words where; Haaaaaaarry Poteeeeeeeer! Harrys last where lightly more dignified. “Hermione, tell Ginny I love her. You have been good friends and an amazing family. I’ll see you on the other side…”

The End

One night at Grimmauld place our one and only hero couldn't sleep. He sat at the kitchen table, looking down at his hands, all the while thinking about the prophecy that he was under.

"...and either must die at the hands of the other..." he murmured, narrowing his eyes. Just as he was about to continue with the thought, he heard the usual pop sound of apparition. He looked up towards the door to see Bill Weasley walking inside, his clothes slightly singed, and one eyebrow missing.

Bill looked up, and visibly brightened at seeing him. "Hey, Harry, how is it going?"

"...better than you, I think" Harry answered with a little humour.

"Erm, yes. There was a little mishap with the last tomb that we raided, and I couldn't make it out without some damage, as you can see." The older man chuckled. "Those wards are always nasty, even if they hold long forgotten treasures..."

He continued to explain, while making some hot chocolate, but Harry wasn't listening.

"...long forgotten things. Things that he wouldn't know about!" He said with a crazed look in his eyes. Maybe some sleep would be nice, but no. He was close to a breakthrough!

"What?" Asked Bill, not understanding his genius.

"You know that I have a prophecy, right?!"

"Erm, yes? Dumbledore told us about it?"

"Well, it says that only the Dark Lord can kill me, and vice versa.... that means, that I count as immortal to anything else!" He finished with a too wide smile.

"Bill, I need you to take me with you. I'll walk into the tombs, grab the things inside, and walk out. It'd be easy!"

"Harry, I'm not too sure about this..."

"I'll take a camera with me take take photos of the runes inside"

"Deal."

....

A week later, we can find our protagonist in a dense jungle. Before him, stood an ancient piramid. The air almost visibly rippled with power, as if the wards could feel the intruders already.

Harry took a deep breath, and started walking.

As he neared the wardline, he could feel some resistance, every step he took became harder, but he didn't stop.

As he stepped onto the wardline, it was almost as if the world held its breath. He could almost imagine it, two different powers, trying to force the other into submission. The wards on the inside, fate and prophecy on the outside.

He grinned.

There was a grinding-tinkling-whining sound, as if the wards couldn't believe it either.

And he stepped inside. Alive. Unharmed.

He turned around, and smiled at the gaping visage of Bill Weasley, with too many teeth to be called sane.

"I think... I think this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership, Bill."

...

A fun little prompt about a Harry Potter, who weaponizes the prophecy in a new way.

(Inspired by that one yt short with the shark-riding-chainsaw-swinging-teenage-princess.)

I was always confused by this. A lot of fics have these so called "trust vaults" set up for Harry with limited money, meaning that he can only access them and has to wait until he is of age to access his main vault.

Is this canon? Did the Potters really have something like this? A 11 year old can access his/her main full vault as long as he/she has the key, right?

Speaking of Gringotts keys, let's say if Harry took his key from Hagrid before year 1 or from the Weasleys afterwards. Would the goblins allow this and let Harry access his full main vault without adult supervision and allow him to do whatever with it's contents?

Or if Dumbledore or the Weasleys refused to give him his key, could he go directly to the goblins and ask for a new one? Would they give him one? What would Dumbledore say if he knew Harry took back his key?

Would he have any legal ground in demanding it back from him or getting the goblins to block him from accessing his vault without adult supervision? And finally, can the ministry intervene in these situations?

Snape went on.

“I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye.”

And then Seamus stood up and started shaking his lower body, which at first the class thought was a jinx cast on him. There were a few gasps and giggles, until Snape’s cold voice sliced through the confusion.

"Mr. Finnigan," Snape said, narrowing, "sit down at your seat or I shall have you testing antidotes on yourself until your eyebrows regrow — assuming you survive the first round."

But before Seamus could sit, Dean Thomas suddenly stood up beside him. At first it looked like he was trying to help Seamus, but instead he started doing the same shake, this time adding dramatic hand gestures. One of his hands landed on Seamus’s shoulder, and suddenly, they were couple dancing, right there in the middle of Snape’s classroom.

Snape’s eyes went deathly with the same energy as a cursed potion about to explode.

"Mr. Thomas," he said, in a cold voice, "if I wanted a demonstration of absurd Muggle mating rituals, I’d ask Hagrid to host it in the Forbidden Forest, preferably far away from me and my remaining sanity."

Despite Snape’s warnings, the Gryffindors clearly took it as encouragement.

Lavender Brown stood up with a squeal, grabbing Parvati's hand, and the two of them started twirling around the classroom.

Ron, who was watching all this with wide eyes, suddenly snapped to attention as if fate had personally tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to Hermione and, in a voice full of hope and nerves, said, "My Mione, dance with me."

Hermione, who had been watching Dean, Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati with clear disapproval, turned a bright shade of pink. Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again, and in the end, she forgot all about her judgment and took Ron’s hand. After all, it was Ron.

Meanwhile, Harry was still sitting at the first bench, not turning around to look at the disaster unfolding behind him. But he himself was making lovey and kissy faces at Snape.

Snape noticed.

Snape did not appreciate.

Then, as if the moment couldn’t get any worse, Neville Longbottom stood up.

Everything stopped.

Even the Slytherins, who had been watching with horrified expressions and muttering about Gryffindor insanity, went silent. No one expected Longbottom to rise. Not for a dance. Not for anything.

Snape slowly turned toward him.

"Mr. Longbottom," he said, voice low, old, bitter, and full of dread, "if you so much as twitch your pinky in rhythm, I will personally hex you into next Christmas, where I hope you find a better sense of self-preservation than you clearly have now."

There was a long silence.

And then Dumbledore barged in, looking absolutely delighted. With a cheerful clap, he announced, “Absolutely splendid display of house spirit and creativity!”

He raised his arms dramatically and declared, “One thousand points to Gryffindor! And an additional five hundred to Mr. Longbottom—for bravery beyond measure.”

After Harry went into the Great Hall for breakfast, he spotted Ron at his usual place at the griffindor table, chatting with some other griffindor girl Harry never saw before.

Stranger still, the unknown girl smiled warmly at Harry and waved to him. "Over here, Harry, we saved you a seat!"

"Erm, excuse me, but... who are you?" Harry asked as he sat down.

"Sally-Anne Perks?" the girl said in a dismissive tone, as if the question itself was ridiculous.

"Your best friend?" she added, treating it as the most obvious thing in the world.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Ron asked him, probably noticing how pale Harry suddenly was.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, looking franticaly around the Great Hall, as if he hoped to suddenly spot her somewhere among the dozens of students.

"Hermione?" Ron and Sally-Anne looked at each other in confusion. "Who's Hermione?"

The trio sat down in the compartment of the Hogwarts Express, and looked at the sleeping man.

"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron asked.

"Professor R. J. Lupin," said Hermione, as Harry simultaneously said “Remus Lupin.”

"How d'you know that?" Ron questioned.

"It's on his case," she replied, pointing at the luggage over the man's head. She then turned a questioning gaze at Harry. “Do you know him?”

Harry nodded. “Oh yeah, I recognize him from the photos Hagrid gave me. And when I found some of my dad’s old letters, a lot of them mentioned a ‘Remus Lupin’. He was close with my Dad. Like, very close.”

Ron nodded, while Hermione narrowed her eyes. “What exactly do you mean, Harry?”

“I mean, he and my Dad would sometimes spend the night together.”

Ron’s eyes widened, while Hermione let you a high pitched squeak.

“And not just the two of them,” Harry added. “There were two other guys who were usually there too.”

Ron’s eyes widened. “Blimey!”

Harry nodded. “I know, right? Snape even tried to join them once, but my Dad wouldn’t let him.”

“When you say ‘spend the night together’, do you mean…?” Hermione asked, blushing.

“Let's just say that they were going at it like animals.”

Sorting Hat: “Let’s see here… Oh my, you’re a time traveler!”

Harry's eyes widened. How do you know that?

“It’s all here, inside your head. Oh, don’t be so surprised. Occlumency doesn’t work against me, I was created by Godric Gryffindor himself!”

Harry tensed. Are you going to tell Dumbledore?

“No, no, not at all. My job is to sort people, not reveal their secrets.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief.

“So, you went back in time to get your revenge on Dumbledore, did you?”

He raised me like a pig for slaughter. I’m going to make him pay.

“And… You want to date Daphne Greengrass?”

I have to marry her, to secure an alliance with the Grey faction.

“Merlin’s beard, she’s only 11 years old!” 

So am I!

“No, Mr. Potter, you are an adult in an 11-year old body.”

Look, I don’t need to hear this from you. Just sort me already.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Potter. I know just what to do with you. Better be… AZKABAN!”