Summary: When the road you're on is already in the verge of crumbling, you could either choose to foolishly continue onward, or turn back and change paths. Harry decided on the latter. MoD!Harry

Main Pairing: LV/HP (Voldemort/Marcaunon)

Warnings: AU, Time-travel, Universe Hopping, New Identities, Slash, MoD!Harry, Killings/Torture, Mentions of rape/abuse, INCEST relationships everywhere

Disclaimer: If I were the author of Harry Potter, Dumbles would've choked on a lemon drop and died miserably. So no, I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: Though some of you may have expected this to be more of a HP/Bleach crossover chapter, my brain farted and I decided to cut it short. The main focus of this chapter is the bond between Chaos and Marcaunon rather than my original plan of them having a vacation with the Bleach characters and bringing back a weapon of mass destruction to blow apart the Resident Evil dimension. Please do not skip this, because this will be important for character development and plot. There are some unimportant parts that you may skip regarding the explanation of Souls and Spirits of the Bleach universe, but other than that... I will slap you silly if you do skip the important bits!

I apologize for the 1-year delay in updating. But hey, at least I managed, right? Hahaha... I'm so sorry! Let me apologize with a dogeza! m(_ _)m

Marvolo had a dark smile (hidden by his fingers) the moment he heard the satisfying sound of wood smacking wood. The fact that they were finally free from prying eyes the second the doors of his bedchamber slammed shut was something he cherished every day.

Privacy was truly a hard thing to find these days - even in his own manor - when everything he did was keenly observed with awe/fear by his ever-growing band of followers.

The sound also indicated that this was high time for him to stop playing the part of giving the highest form of rewards in the form of pleasuring others.

Although... this was something hard to obtain since he hated the thought of touching someone unworthy of him, even for a short while.

His companion in bed for tonight, Abraxas, was looking at him with excitement that was borderline disturbing. It was revolting how eager these people were to have a taste of him - yet he also felt extremely dominating that his appearance alone was enough to intoxicate someone to lose control of themselves.

With a playful smirk that made the blonde's eyes dilate with desire, he tilted the Malfoy Lord's chin to forcefully establish eye contact, all the while his thumb moved in circles as if to relax his partner for the night.

It took no longer than a minute before the blond was put into his control. Abraxas became dazed, and as soon as Marvolo's fingers had left the man's chin, he fell onto the bed with a soft thump - similar to a puppet who had their strings cut.

A snap of his fingers later made a few adult toys appear beside of the blonde. They were all situated for males more than females.

"Pleasure yourself to exhaustion." Was all he said as he made his way to his secondary desk, clothes already on his person.

It was with practiced ease that he ignored his ex- classmate's wanton moaning in order to stare at the two photos of his... family members.

The one with the both of them in one frame was his current favorite. The two younger Gaunts were whispering to one another secretly, tiny smiles on their faces, before they turned to wave at him cutely.

Without being aware of his actions, he caressed their cheeks as he thought of them - mainly; how to meet them without scaring them off. He knew he was intimidating.

The younger of the two, Marchosias, wouldn't be much of a problem since he was still young (easily manipulated by sweets and smiles), so perhaps having an accidental encounter would be best. A bump in the road would lead to many other pathways.

But time was also not on his side - like so many others.

He knew he had to act fast because of the latest call. Marcaunon was in a bad state when they had first met in that horrible yet realistic dream, and if he had unintentionally activated the call a second time with such broken and empty eyes...

Marvolo's eyebrows knitted as he stared unseeingly at the moving photo.

Date: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Dimension: Anime – Bleach

This dimension was truly interesting. Marcaunon pushed his rose-tinted glasses up (and made them glint menacingly when it reflected the lights at the right angle) as he hid a small smile with his fingers.

After they had gotten mixed and tangled up with their currently unknown company, the three of them were brought to a decent enough candy store – Urahara Shoten, the sign had read – but not before being thoroughly amused at the drama that had unfolded atop the magic flying blanket-carpet thing.

It seemed that one of the teenagers had been manipulated badly by the blonde haired man wearing a bucket hat and the latter had bowed his head low and apologized. He didn't quite catch what the topic was about, but he didn't really care to ask.

All he cared about at that moment of time was that he had witnessed a Japanese dogeza after hearing so much about it from Death. It was brilliant.

For now, they were currently seated around a low table, and it was beyond crowded. Chaos was taking it all well (what with his phobia) as he was on his godfather's lap, his hair being petted as if to calm the lad down.

Whilst the room was silent from all the awkwardness, Marcaunon took the opportunity to stare studiously at the hot drink that had been prepared for him and the other guests - or to be more precise, his eyes had not once strayed from the odd Japanese cup that had no handles. Somehow, he thought it cute and decided to snitch a few before returning back to their original dimension. It was also Slytherin green so that was a plus into making Chaos turn a blind eye.

It was a moment of intense staring later that he decided that he should drink his tea to not be rude to his hosts.

With a tentative sip of his drink (green tea, he hummed in his mind) he swirled it around his mouth for a minute or so before swallowing.

No poison detected.

As he looked up to give a signal that it was safe for them to drink, he blinked owlishly when he saw that everyone was staring at him in a peculiar manner.

"Is something the matter?" He raised a questioning brow.

Chaos was the first one to look away, his nose wrinkled adorably as he sipped his tea ("no juice" "it's very bitter-" "no. juice."), not at all hiding his disappointment at Marcaunon for playing around with his tea.

He resisted the urge to blow his son a raspberry - he didn't want to listen to another one of his 'act your age' lectures.

Death was the second person to look way. Its face was a cold indifference... to people who don't know It, anyway. That petty party of a deity was laughing at him.

How rude!

Sometimes, he honestly wondered if he was truly Its master. What with how often he was bullied by his so called servant.

And he was only checking for poison (amongst other stuff)! Honest.

The third person to look away... was actually not a person. It was the black cat that sounded like a perverted old man. And the cat had snorted.

An animal. Had snorted. At him.

Somehow, Marcaunon found that awfully charming.

Cats are love. Cats are life. Cats are justice.

Why won't Death transform into a cat? It has always converted into a dull and bland black mamba. Sure the form was intimidating, but if It were a cat, Marcaunon wouldn't have evaded his paperwork so desperately. Bloody hell, he would even sit on his arse obediently and sign everything diligently for twenty straight hours... on the condition of allowing him to pet and cuddle with It anytime he wanted, of course.

"Nah. That's not it." The first person to speak up was the orange haired teenager that was garbed in a black shihakushō (if he was not wrong, the direct translation was Garment of Dead Souls) and was armed with a huge butcher knife strapped to his back. He frowned a lot as well. "You won't die after drinking his tea - but you'll die if you eat his food."

Blunt with a sense of humor. Marcaunon decided that he liked this Mortal.

"How mean, Kurosaki-san!"

The blond that was wearing the ugly white and green bucket hat pouted, his cheeks puffed out as he playfully glared at the teen.

Kurosaki shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, his eyes moving from Mort to Chaos and back to Marcaunon.

"So who're you guys? You don't seem dead to me."

"That's good because I don't seem dead to me too. Well, since we all don't know each other, I think an introduction is in order. I'm Gaunt Marcaunon. This is me adorable baby boy Marchosias. And this here is my beloved long-time partner Mort. Since our names are hard to be pronounced by the Japanese tongue, I'll allow you to shorten our names to Marc and Chaos. Better than to completely butcher our names otherwise."

He smiled his Hufflepuff smile as he introduced them, not at all noticing how his words and expression don't match.

"Right. Then, Marc-san -"

Marcaunon was quick to interrupt.

"Please drop the honorifics. We're foreigners so it sounds weird."

"Very well~!" Bucket-head snapped out a fan, using the tip to point at every person whilst he introduced them. "This is Kurosaki Ichigo. His hair color is natural if you were wondering. Beside him is Ishida Uryuu. Please don't mind his obsession with the color white. Next is Orihime Inoue. She's our... important healer. This silent one is Yasutora Sado. We all call him Chad, though. Yoruichi-san. My assistant; Tessai. Lastly, I am called Urahara Kisuke, a humble candy store owner~!"

When he finished with their introductions, Kisuke snapped open his fan to cover the lower half of his face (a habit?), those shrewd gray eyes watching them closely.

Whilst the man was busy with that, Marcaunon decided that he should mentally catalog everything... and turn their names around if he didn't want to mix everything up.

The orange haired, blunt teen who was always scowling was called Ichigo Kurosaki. Ichigo. Strawberry? Why? He was also kinda alive. Maybe. Half-half.

The black haired teen with the central parting and glasses was called Uryuu Ishida - and he has an obsession with white? A human on the verge of being Parasitic. Unimportant, even if he was a glasses buddy.

Inoue Orihime. An adolescent with plenty of chest fats. She was also the lone girl in their team(?). A human with some kind of healing power. Hers was the most similar to Magic.

The tallest and buffest high schooler Marcaunon have ever laid eyes upon was a really quiet one. He has dark skin, and kind eyes which are usually blocked by his curly dark brown hair - Sado Yasutora, who everyone calls Chad. A Mexican-Japanese mix. A human with a mixture of a spirit's powers.

Yoruichi. The black cat with sharp golden eyes. Cute, but has the voice of an old man. Cats are justice. Also a spirit with incredible powers.

For Tessai, he was a large, muscular, (very) tall man with a blue apron and weird hairdo. Marcaunon was deeply impressed by Tessai's rectangular shaped glasses. He has always had a fascination with glasses. In fact, they were now glasses buddy (in his head only, though)!

Last of all, Kisuke Urahara. The blonde with a weird sense of fashion. From his bucket hat to his wooden Japanese sandals. Also, a humble(?) shopkeeper, apparently. The strongest spirit in this room.

That should be everyone for now.

With a bright smile that could put the sun to shame (Death's words, not his) Marcaunon decided that since they were currently on a family trip, he should quickly find the cause of Death's sudden need to work from here so that they could enjoy the rest of the year away.

"Yess yess. Pleasure to meet everyone and all that - not to be rude or anything, but we're kind of in a hurry. Have any of you seen a hazardous tiny round object that could potentially destroy the world if misused by a dangerous person around?"

The air took a turn for the worse and the room became filled with tension. Marcaunon was, to be expected, confused at the sudden 180 change of their hosts. The teenagers all became suspicious of them whilst Kisuke and the cat looked ready to slit Marcaunon's throat.

He felt the two emit their Magical pressure(?) mixed with killing intent, and it appeared to be suffocating the teens. Judging by their reactions, they were unused to such things.

Marcaunon's scarlet orbs landed on Chaos - who was pre-occupied with drinking his tea, a bored expression on his childish face, and Death who was tying pigtails with Chaos's hair.

He was unable to hold back his laughter but was quick to cover it up by forcing a few coughs.

Looks like he need not worry about his little boy. The... energy was heavy like gravity was pushing down on them, but it was easily ignored by the three of them. Rather, it wasn't even worth noting. Was this a butchered version of Death's Magic? It seemed similar, but different as well.

It was as if it had evolved in a totally different direction.

Hm. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"Chaos dear," He cooed/hissed in Parseltongue, his smile not wavering even when Kisuke instantly had his sword out and the tip just a few centimeters away from beheading Marcaunon. "There will be no usage of Magic from now on. This would be too easy, otherwise - although your safety will be prioritized and not jeopardized."

"Duly noted, mother." Chaos dear replied whilst refilling his cup.

Why was his son such a tea fanatic?

"I would advise that the two of you speak in a language that we all understand." The cat, Yoruichi, casually threatened, their tail flicking from left to right in irritation.

"Ah! Please accept my apologies, neko-chan (cat). I often fall back into the habit of speaking my native tongue when I'm at a loss of what to say. My dear son only reprimanded me for it."

"Haah? Don't take us for fools -"

"Is this really the right time?" Chaos butted in, interrupting neko-chan quite suddenly. "They're dying."

Everyone turned to the direction of where Chaos was pointing.

Three of the four teenagers have already reached their limit and had passed out, with the last one breathing heavily as he glared daggers into Kisuke's head.

The blonde smiled sheepishly and the pressure he and the cat emitted were snuffed out instantaneously. He was also back to his seat with a paper fan in hand, covering the lower half of his face yet again. His sword may have looked like it had disappeared from sight, but with his seeker-trained eyes, he saw Kisuke sheathe it into his cane.

"Fuck! I seriously thought we were going to die! What the hell was that for, Urahara?! Yoruichi?!" Ichigo cursed as he stood on shaky legs. Tessai stood along with him, and they both silently agreed to carry the three unconscious teens out of the room and back to their homes.

Just before they left, however, Ichigo threatened to beat Kisuke into a bloody pulp if he ever did that to his friends ever again, which had the man sweating bullets as he laughed shakily.

When they were finally gone, the blonde's focus was once again on Marcaunon. He had to wonder if they had somehow forgotten Death's existence - which wasn't unusual since death was literally everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Poor Death... who was happily playing with Chaos's hair - which was currently being braided by skillful fingers.

... Arsehole. Just be forgotten already, you bloody wanker-

He was nudged by the very wanker he was cursing, and he turned to see his two hosts awaiting something from him.

"Hm? Oh my. Would it be rude for me to ask you to repeat that? I was lost in my head, you see?"

He gave them an apologetic smile as he made a grab for his cup, but due to his vindictive nature, had accidentally knocked over the cup and spilled it all over Death's robes (Chaos wasn't hit, if anyone was wondering!).

Fufufufufu!

OOOO

POV: Marchosias

He stared at the cat (animagus?) with unfocused eyes as his mother smiled his signature scary closed eye smile. Marchosias, now reluctantly known as Chaos by this world's inhabitants, was lost in his thoughts, wondering how on earth his godfather had transported them to another realm.

He knew it was theoretically impossible.

The only possible thing about world transportation is via time travel, reincarnation, or alternate universes. Which, to his detached amusement, he fell into all three categories.

He had traveled back at least four decades from his original timeline, died and reincarnated into someone different, all the while there was secretly another him traversing around.

It was kind of funny in a wry way.

Also, he seriously needed to confront his mother. The man held too many secrets. And too many secrets can cause their relationship to go sour. He ignored his own hypocrisy and contemplated how to get his mother to open up.

As he mulled over his hypotheses, he absentmindedly played with the nearest thing in his reach – which was, unfortunately, the cat's tail (that felt similar to his cat onesie, to be truthful). He wrapped it around his wrist before he unwinded and used it as a makeshift quill.

He wrote invisible theories using the tip of the cat's tail, and eventually, was pulled back into reality when he noticed the lack of ongoing conversations.

He peered up from his eyelashes and raised a brow in askance when he saw everyone staring at him. Somehow, this scenario seemed similar.

"What? Is there something on my face?" He patted his face using his free hand, wondering if there were any leftover tea residue around his lips.

"Not at all." His mother sounded amused, and he was patted on the head like some silly child. It made him scowl.

It was degrading and he felt insulted to be treated like a little kid – dutifully ignoring the fact that he currently was a little kid.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his mother but abruptly yawned. Curse this body!

"As you can see, Kisuke, it's past my son's bedtime." Mother stood up with unmatched grace. It always amazed him how his mother could act so contradictive and so… natural all the time. "If you will excuse us, I think it's time we take our leave."

"Maa maa, why not stay the night, Marc?" Kisuke smiled brightly at his own idea and continued to talk as if they had already agreed to his suggestion. "Tessai will prepare the rooms. We can finish our discussion after we've all rested. Your son already looks dead on his feet."

"A room is enough. We usually sleep together, anyway."

"Then everything's settled." Yoruichi, the black cat, agreed.

If cats could leer, he would be leering right about now as he stared at Marchosias with a mischievous look in his eyes.

"Although you would have to release my tail first, young one, even if it's too fluffy to resist – it is a part of me, after all, and I've been told I'm simply irresistible."

As soon as his brain processed those words, he released said tail from the confines of his hand as if burnt. He shot a glare at his own appendage, feeling betrayed that his body was actually behaving similarly to the child he appeared to be – for example, grabbing the most fluffy, or toy-like thing nearest to him. He was seventy-seven, a grown man, for Merlin's sake!

He didn't notice as he was being carried off to who knows where by who knows who, his exhaustion finally catching up to him, yet his mind stayed firmly on the subject of brewing an aging potion as soon as humanly possible. A permanent aging potion more preferably.

But first; sleep. His young body can't handle any more of this.

When he came to, he was snuggled in between his godfather and mother, his clothes already changed into a onesie by you-know-who. Mother was wearing a baggy white shirt (only), and Mort slept without showing an ounce of skin - even his face was covered with a mask. The usual.

What was unusual was Marcaunon not covering his scars with glamours. He felt a warm and bubbly sensation spreading across his chest, and he smiled as he softly patted his mother's scarred cheek lovingly.

It felt... amazing to be trusted by the man he cherished.

The warmness was soon ruined by the urge to yawn - and yawn he did. It made his eyes water, and when he stretched as he sat up, the two adult's arms on his torso fell to his lap.

Still, in a daze, he made the two hands on his lap interlock with one another as he slipped out of bed, the pitter patter of his feet moving away and out of the room.

Since he was unfamiliar with this place, he decided that it wouldn't hurt to explore - it was one of his habits to secure as many emergency escape routes just in case.

He stopped by the closest room and without much thought, slid open the door to get a glimpse of what was inside.

What he saw made him wide-awake.

Kisuke was... having some fun with a beautiful woman he did not recognize but felt familiar - the energy she has, that is. Whilst they were distracted by each other, he closed the door and ran away without looking back retreated.

Perhaps he should have a destination in mind - the kitchen, preferably, to avoid such a thing ever again.

His stomach agreed with him, so he pitter-pattered everywhere until he landed in front of the kitchen, where Tessai, the shopkeeper's assistant, was busy with making breakfast.

He minds not the man and went straight towards the coffee machine, staring at it with drool accumulating inside of his mouth.

It took all of his self-control to not levitate a stool so he could stand on it and brew some coffee.

As if reading his mind, Tessai brought forth a stepping stool (why did they have one?) and nodded when Marchosias politely thanked the man.

For the first time in years, he was finally brewing his own cup of coffee.

Hogwarts was filled with ambient Magic, so any technology brought into the castle would malfunction - or explode.

He may hate Muggles, but their inventions were seriously missed by him - especially the tools they invented when it came to brewing divine coffee. A coffee machine was enough excuse for him to allow some Muggles to live. He just needed to cut down on their numbers a little. They breed like cockroaches, anyway.

As soon as his coffee was brewed just the way he liked it, he shoved the thoughts of mass genocide to the back of his mind in order to inhale the aroma of his drink, simply wanting to enjoy this moment where he could pretend that he was back in his adult body of Lord Voldemort.

Perfect.

OOOO

"Why are we here?"

"Why should we not be here, little one?"

"You're not a high school student, dad. And I'm not old enough for high school."

"But your uniform does fit, doesn't it?"

"It does, but it still doesn't answer my question as to why exactly are we pretending to be students."

"Then do you want me to send you to a daycare?"

"Where's Mort?"

"You're changing the subject, sweetheart."

"I want to see Mort in uniform."

"... Brilliant idea, my genius of a son! Mort! Mort, come out! I know you're there."

"... Little Lord..."

"If I have to suffer through this bullcrap, you'll go down with me, Mort."

So here they were, half an hour later, in front of a classroom where the homeroom teacher was telling the students that there would be transfers attending.

Most of the students were looking with interest, confusion, and love-struck eyes at Marcaunon, Marchosias, and Mort, respectively.

Marcaunon searched for the Mortals he knew behind his rose-tinted glasses, a little disappointed that he wasn't able to see all of their reactions because three of them weren't here - the teacher said something about how they rushed out to go to the toilet.

He let his Magic poke the dark haired teen, Uryuu, but didn't get any reaction at all, which made him wonder what had happened for the teen to have lost his powers overnight.

And since he has already lost his powers somehow, that made him a Parasite. And Parasites should be ignored.

With that in mind, he smiled fakely at everyone as he introduced himself. It was time to be a Hufflepuff again.

"Hello. I am called Marcaunon Gaunt, or Gaunt Marcaunon here in Japan. I'm not too familiar with the culture, so please excuse and correct me if I had not done something correctly. Pleased to meet your acquaintances."

"Gaunt Marchosias. A pleasure."

"Gaunt Mort. Don't touch me. Don't come near me. Lest you wish to die a gruesome death."

Well, that was nice of Death to warn them. Since the entity was showing far more skin than usual in Its uniform - which, by the way, made It look so human.

They were currently posing as brothers, and since Chaos was obviously too young to be in high school, he would be playing the genius who skipped grades - which was an easy role since Voldie would have breezed through high school.

There were a lot of questions thrown their way, and Marcaunon made it so that he would be seen as a really friendly guy by answering everything (with lies of course!). Not that hard since his son was anti-social and his servant just was not as interested in interacting with the living.

The day passed by just like that. It was super boring. He seriously wanted to torture a Parasite to elevate his boredom.

As soon as school ended, Death excused Itself and disappeared - probably to speak to Its minion that was in charge of this dimension.

With a shrug at little Chaos, they walked out of school and into a five-star hotel nearby. He preferred not to be in the presence of people who were too nosy for their own good. AKA; Kisuke and his lot.

He transfigured some leaves into a bundle of cash and told the receptionist that their stay in the hotel's most expensive suite was for an indefinite amount of time - a year if he estimated the amount correctly, which he did.

The worker looked incredibly happy and they were treated as VVIPs.

The days passed by slowly, and only Marcaunon was left with nothing to do but rot away in the hotel room.

Mana and Suki were cuddling away near the windowsill, absorbing the heat from the sunlight and he would loathe to disturb their tranquility.

Chaos was busy with exploring the town alone, and Death was busy with his job.

He. Was. Bored!

So he made it a duty for him to mess around as much as possible. Helping Hollows (corrupted spirits that hunger for souls, be it living or deceased) and killing Parasites just for the heck of it.

He also found out that there were two types of spirits in this dimension.

Plus Souls were ordinary human spirits. They have a chain on their chest, and if it were to disappear or be pulled out, they would turn into a corrupt spirit. He would know since he did that every time he saw a Plus Soul.

The second type was Hallows. Corrupt spirits that used to be Plus Souls, but had overstayed their welcome in the human realm. Their chains gradually disappear and when there was nothing left, a hole would appear on their chest and they become Hallows.

There was also three types of 'realms' in this dimension.

The human realm - where humans live.

Hueco Mundo - where Hallows live.

Soul Society - where Plus Souls and soul reapers live.

Yes, soul reapers.

Not Death's minions, though.

Soul reapers were guardians of sorts to souls. They purify Hollows and ensure the safe crossing of Plus Souls into Soul Society by giving them a soul burial - where they simply just stamp the Plus Soul's forehead with the butt of their swords and they become a butterfly that disappears to Soul Society.

To put it simply; Death's minion, the Soul King, trained some Plus Souls and called them soul reapers. So that they could do his job for him.

What a lazy yet creative bloke!

Marcaunon also found out that the spirits here do not have Magic. They have Reiryoku (Spiritual Power). Every spiritual being and every single human have a certain amount of it. If they were born with a shite ton of Reiyoku, they were basically cheats with superhuman abilities.

Or to put it more easily... Living humans with above-average Reiyoku can see ghosts, though it is but a small percentage of them.

Anyway, being alone in the hotel suite was too boring.

Time to move.

It was an hour into his stroll that he heard something interesting.

"He's trying to create real Arrancar by using Hougyoku."

Marcaunon snapped his fingers with an exclamation of 'Ah!' - as if he remembered something important that he had somehow forgotten (not for the first time), causing the two soul reapers to turn to his direction sharply.

"Who's there?!" The man with a goatee barked out, those familiar eyes of his scanning the shadows of the alleyway where Marcaunon was in.

"... Hey." As he slowly emerged from the darkness, Kisuke's eyes widened with an emotion he couldn't identify because of how excited he currently was. "You said something about Hougyoku. That's the tiny thing I was looking for. Can I... steal some of your time?"

His grin was bloodthirsty as he looked directly into the man's eyes-

OOOO

"Mother, where are we?"

Chaos was confused as he looked around the place - a desert.

"The place where our prize is located at, of course!" He chirped, his smile sharp and full of teeth. "It looks like this." He whipped out a fake orb and cackled like a super villain.

His little boy wagged a finger at him, looking unimpressed and a little irritated. He complied and squatted in front of Chaos without hesitation.

"Really. At least clean the blood off your face." Was said as his son wiped the left side of his cheek.

"So dependable! Thanks, love." His grin softened into a fond smile as he kissed his little boy's forehead in thanks. "We need to keep this a secret from De- Mort, okay?"

Chaos frowned at the slipped, but Marcaunon pretended to be oblivious. Out of mind. Out of mind.

"Under one condition."

Urk. Marcaunon's smile grew stiff as he stood up to stretch his back, trying to buy some time.

"I'll hear it out."

"No. You have to agree to it first."

He pursed his lips as he thought it through. Reading Chaos wasn't easy. The other Gaunt was devious, and if he agreed blindly, even he wouldn't be able to get out of it easily.

But...

He sighed.

This was his child.

Marchosias should have the right to know more about him, right? It was only natural for a child to be curious about their parent's mysterious past.

And the secrets he held were heavy. For once, Marcaunon wanted to be truthful to his boy - his blood.

"Alright. Just one, though."

"Tell me all about your past. And try not to trick your way out. I want - no, I need to know what happened to make you the man you are now."

"That..."

"I will never shun you. I swear it. I will never reject you. So, please, tell me. I need to know, momma."

Momma, huh? Chaos was getting good at pulling his heart-strings.

... It hurts.

Was Death right? Was it alright for him to move forward? Was it alright for him to open his heart and let another person in?

"I don't want you to come to hate me - and I know that you will."

He had once been his son's killer, after all.

"Never. I had promised myself long ago that I will never hurt you, momma - be it physically, mentally, or emotionally."

They stood in silence, the wind howling in their ears as they stared each other down, both of them wanting the other to submit.

Marcaunon was the first to look away, and Chaos knew that he had won this round.

A table was conjured, along with two armchairs. Marcaunon bought some time by preparing some snacks and tea with the ingredients he has in his trunk, and Marchosias allowed him all the time he needed to put his thoughts together.

When everything was prepared, they both seated themselves at the opposite side facing each other, a cup (the Japanese one he had snitched) of tea in their respective hands.

"Listen and don't interrupt, Marchosias. If you have questions, I will answer them to the best of my abilities afterward. Will you at least give me your word on that?"

"Yess. You have my word, momma."

Marcaunon looked down at his cup of tea, his nerves making him nibble on his lower lip. And then he began. He wasn't able to stop as the words left his lips and shameful tears gradually formed in his eyes.

"It all begun with a boy and a man. They were both brought up in different times, by different people, and different environmental situations - but they were, nevertheless, completely alike. They were... destined for greatness. But the price for that greatness was their happiness. And possibly their sanity as well.

"The boy was raised to be many things. A slave. A sacrificial lamb. A lion without claws. A chess piece.

"Before he was even born, he was already picked by fate. A cruel destiny that he did not wish for. By the time he was one, his parents had been killed by a man who had lost his sight of everything but magic and was soon taken by an ambitious elderly who thought of him as nothing but a tool for his own outdated goals.

"The boy grew up in an abusive household. His uncle would always try to 'beat the magic' out of him and have never once called him by his name. No, that was wrong. The boy had always thought that his name was Freak. His aunt would force him to do endless amounts of chores, and if he had failed to complete them by the end of the day, he was not given any food. Water and stale bread were all he ate as he grew up. That was all the boy ever tasted for ten years.

"The boy's cousin, a pampered fat kid that was far too young to think for himself, and could only imitate his parents, created a game. A game he played with his friends to hunt the boy down and make his already miserable life hell. The moment they catch him, he would be beaten black and blue. Every vase, every plate, and every toy his cousin breaks, a bone will be broken as his punishment by his uncle.

"He matured faster than the kids his age, but his body grew slower due to the lack of care his relatives gave him. The boy was a fast learner, though. He knew from books that family wasn't suppose to act like this. His mind was asking questions as to what he did to deserve this. He tried to be a good boy. But... They just wanted him dead. Clouded with sadness and anger, the boy swore revenge.

"The boy had already planned ahead of time. Where the moment he was able to survive by himself was the moment he would kill his relatives and run away. Maybe find someone who will take care of his needs - they don't even have to be in his age group. His vengeful streak grew the older he became. Magic helped in keeping him from being found out, but he got punished anyway. That was apparently his life in a nutshell.

"That was the boy's childhood. It all changed when he reached the age of eleven. He was introduced into the astounding world of Magic. He was out of the frying pan... and he unknowingly jumped right into the burning flames.

"The boy had always been smart. He held no trust in the human race. His first friend was an owl. A beautiful white owl that he received as his first ever present. He told the owl everything. The owl never judged him.

"Before he was sorted with everybody, the elderly had personally come for him and brought the boy to his office. The boy was guarded and suspicious, but because he did not know anything of Magic, he fell into the elderly's webs.

"He was read like an open book. His personality, his attitude, his cruelness, his lack of faith - everything had been read by the elderly. And the elderly wasn't pleased because he grew up to be too similar to the man. The boy was forced into eating some kind of lemon candy, and then his very being was altered.

"The boy became kind. He became naive and full of trust. He was sorted into Gryffindor because of his courage and bravery. Because he would rather save others than himself.

"His friends were privately picked for him without him being aware. His future spouse had been chosen for him without his acknowledgment - many contracts had been signed without him knowing. Everything he did, was what the elderly wanted. He was a puppet. And as if his whole life was a play, he was blindly controlled by the strings. And he thought it was all him.

"The boy trusted the elderly's words as if the elderly was Merlin himself. He questioned nothing. He worshiped the ground the elderly walked on. He was blinded by happiness at having been praised that he did not notice how the elderly had been disturbed by the boy's lack of guilt for having burnt someone to death at the tender age of eleven.

"During his second year, he met someone. A memory, they had said. The person he met was just like him. Alone. Abused. Wicked. They even look alike, you see? The only major differences was their height and eye color.

"The boy had the brightest green eyes that many compared to the Killing Curse, whilst the other had a lovely shade of red for eyes - the color the boy secretly compared to blood. It was at the moment when they were alone under Hogwarts - the Chambers - that the compulsion placed on the boy broke. He screamed, he raged, he cried, as his memories returned. Of how he was being forced to be a puppet by the puppetmaster.

"The other tried to help, but the headmaster appeared with his phoenix. He altered the boy's memory yet again, and as soon as the headmaster hid within the shadows, the boy became a lion once more. The other tried to make the boy remember, but the boy merely thought those words lies and stabbed the other with the fang of a basilisk.

"The memory, no, the soul of the other vanished, but the boy remembered. He remembered clearly how the other had reached for him and whispered not to trust the elderly. Those words stayed, even after having his memories altered time and time again. The boy was only twelve when he destroyed someone's soul permanently.

"Time passed by just like that, with the boy growing up with many magical bindings and restrictions - his mind splitting into two; the golden boy whenever he was in the presence of his puppetmaster, and the lonely child who wanted to break free of his chains but was not able to.

"It was during his fourth year in the Magical world when he managed to break free of his latest compulsions. He dreaded and feared to go to Hogwarts. He wanted to run away from his Muggle relatives. He wanted to run away from the headmaster - the elderly. He wanted to run away from the man who hunted him because of a prophecy.

"But... Where can the boy run to? He was a freak to Muggles. He was a puppet hero to Light Magicals. He was an eyesore to Dark Magicals. He was alone, and could only trust himself to protect himself. Only his owl, his loyal companion, was there as he cried into her feathers, miserable and tired of living in fear. Days passed by, and soon... September drew near.

"The boy was then forced to compete in a tournament that had a high death rate, the elderly already given him a new set of orders for his kinder personality to break through his true one. He did everything foolishly, and when he was kidnapped, he was used as an ingredient to bring back the man - his parents' killer, the only one who had never lied to him. The one who he could trust to keep his word.

"The boy was then tortured, laughed at, and humiliated. He managed to escape but was declared insane by the population. Heh. After having his head played around by the elderly that much, of course, he would be insane.

"School was dangerous to the boy. Home was dangerous to the boy. People were dangerous to the boy. Even his owl had been taken away from him. The elderly was killed when the boy was sixteen, going seventeen. But before that, he was given yet another task - to collect three items. So collect them he did.

"The boy managed well enough with half his magical core bound, and his head full of compulsions that could make an average Magical reside permanently in St. Mungo's ward for the mentally ill. Whilst he collected those items, he destroyed the man's soul one by one, not knowing that... he was also one of the containers that held a small portion of the man's soul.

"That piece of soul had combined with the boy's own over the years, and it would be impossible to remove unless the boy killed himself. That was what the elderly wanted. That was his first goal - to martyr himself. His second was the three items.

"Immortality. The man and the elderly had one thing in common, and that was immortality. The man, not knowing that the boy had suddenly broken through the elderly's control at the very last moment of their duel, dug his won grave.

"The boy howled with uncontrolled rage. He roared at the unfairness of it all. Why was he chosen? Why couldn't everybody leave him be? Why was fate so cruel to him? Why did his own soul-brother even want his death?

"The boy's eyes bled crimson at that point of time (though only for a short moment) due to the man's soul piece's influence, and when the man was too shocked, the boy managed to kill the man. He relished in the moment, loving the way the man's body had crumbled away. It was a short moment before his chest began hurting. And he broke.

"The boy cried, unable to stop as he dug and tried to glue back the crumbled body of the man. His soul was calling to the man, yearning to be reunited with the man. But he was gone. The man was already gone. It was too late. The boy's realization was... too late.

"Everyone congratulated the boy. They praised him. They worshiped him. They screamed in joy, spat at the man's grave, and laughed as they celebrated for the peaceful future years to come, free from the man's tyranny.

"The boy decided to that if he wanted to survive, he needed to act. He pretended that everything was alright. He pretended to be ok. He pretended that he was the lion without the claws. He pretended to love someone he held no feelings for. He pretended to be someone else that was not him.

"Years. Decades. Time passed by slowly for him. The people closest to him were the first to find out about his emptiness. They tried to fix him. To fill him. They failed. They dislike the true him. They hated the real him. The boy was once again, being played with by fate.

"The boy was exiled. And for the first time in decades, the boy felt free. He embraced the feeling of being his own man and created bonds with creatures and people that he had never expected would be dear to him in the future.

"He created his own island, where race didn't matter. Where blood didn't matter. Where discrimination wasn't there. Where prejudices don't exists. Where Light and Dark and everything in between doesn't matter. Where everyone laughed together as they all experimented on Muggle inventions so that they could move forward from their stagnant ways. He loved everyone living on his island, and the community loved him in return.

"Everyone heard of his island soon enough. Of how advanced and how dangerous they were. Everyone not on his island wanted his island. War bloomed. Lives extinguished. Death hovered. The boy lost everything yet again, but not because he was weak. No. It was because the Magicals weren't discreet.

"Muggles found Magic. War had already cut their numbers, so when the war between Muggles and Magicals commenced, Magicals had already lost so much. It was a one-sided slaughter.

"The boy was the last Magical to survive, and it was no thanks to the three items that the elderly wanted. The boy was... immortal. He could not die. The Muggles grew envious. They wanted immortality as well. Because billions of Muggles were chasing him, the boy was eventually caught.

"He was experimented on. He was played with. He was slowly losing himself as other humans, his non-magical counterparts, slowly killed him without truly killing his him. Every day he prayed to for salvation.

"... Nobody gave that to him. The Earth began to dry up. Muggles weren't able to reproduce because of all the chemicals they have used to kill off the Magicals. The air became polluted. The sky turned blackish green. The ocean dried up. Mother Earth was dying. She needed Magic to purify everything. Yet Magic denied her. The boy denied her. He denied her because he grew tired. The earth could crumble away, for all he cared. Maybe then will the boy meet death.

"The boy was able to escape his prison, and because the Muggles were slowly dying away, he became the hunter this time around. Everything in the boy's mind was madness. He wanted nothing but the blood of Muggles. Those parasitic creatures that took but never return. They were... are Parasites.

"He hunted them. Toyed with them. Laughed in their faces as he killed their families in front of them. He loved every second of it. Yet he also hated every second of it. He hid behind his rose-tinted glasses, running away from reality. The madness of his own mind was now his prison.

"Parasites were now scarce, and as they grow older, they become less determined to live. Lucky them. They were able to escape anytime they wanted. They were not immortal. The boy had not seen any Parasites for months. The only companion he has was a retarded snake that only wanted fat rats. It wasn't a great conversation partner, but he made due.

"The world was dying... and so was he. He didn't know what to do. The boy could only stare out from his window, waiting for the Earth to crumble just like how the man had crumbled. He wanted to crumble.

"But... one day... A being appeared in front of the boy. The being called Itself Death. And Death had called the boy Its Master. They both talked, and soon, plans were made. The boy came to know what Hope felt like.

"Death had moved them to another dimension, and as the boy grew up there in an orphanage where his main caretaker was Death Itself, he smiled. For the first time in a long time, the boy felt content.

"The boy grew up, but this time, he was not alone. He had a servant that was more of his forever companion. He had a soul in his hand that would one day become his son. He had a lot of Parasites that he could hunt and one day finally exterminate. And lastly, he had a name that he knew ever since he first opened his eyes in that new universe where the sky is blue and the air is fresh.

"The boy's name is Marcaunon Seirios Gaunt. And... The boy... Me... I... I'm finally able to say that I'm happy to be where I am right now."

With his head bowed, hair shadowing his face, and his grip on the cup making his fingers white from the lack of blood circulation, he waited for Marchosias's response.

The silence was deafening, and the only thing he was capable of hearing was the blood rushing through his ears as adrenaline was pumped into his system.

Marcaunon was terrified. What would Marchosias think of him now? Will he ever be called mother by Marchosias ever again?

He knew that he was a selfish man for wanting happiness after what he had done. It had all been his fault that his original world had been on the verge of crumbling. Was this karma? Was he destined to be unhappy?

Marchosias wasn't stupid. The boy in the story was obviously Harry Potter. The man was obviously Tom Marvolo Riddle/Lord Voldemort. The elderly was obviously Albus Dumbledore.

Now, his son knew the truth.

Lord Voldemort knew the truth.

His soul-brother knew the ugly truth.

Big fat tears began to roll down his cheeks, and all he could do was cry silently, his shoulders slumped and his expression devoid of any life.

He wanted to crumble away.

He wondered what it felt like... to crumble away.

"Raise your head."

He would not.

So he shook his head, his tears sprinkling down onto the desert floor and evaporating almost immediately upon contact due to the intense heat.

He heard a sigh, and couldn't help but flinch as he imagined how angry, disappointed, disgusted, and irritated Marchosias must be right now with him.

The sound of clothes rustling against the wind almost made him raise his head due to how close it had sounded. He resisted and curled tighter into himself - even bringing up his knees so that his face was thoroughly covered.

"Look at me."

No.

"Look at me..."

No.

"Look at me!"

No!

"Please... Look at me..."

...

"Why. Why won't you look at me?"

This was torture.

He would rather Marchosias just shout, scream, and yell at him and be done with it.

"Are you disappointed in me?"

That immediately made Marcaunon's head snap up, pure horror written on his tear stricken face.

"No! I have never been disappointed in you! Why did you say that?! I should be the one to ask you that question!"

"Because you wouldn't look at me!" Was the half-hysteric reply he received. It caused him to widen his scarlet eyes in shock since he has never heard Marchosias sound so desperate before. "I... I am unfamiliar with the ways of comforting others. I don't know what to do in a situation such as this. After hearing your past, you should clearly know that I used to be a Dark Lord. The only way I solve my problems is to get rid of them."

"Are you frustrated?"

"Obviously I am."

Haha. Marchosias was probably thinking of ways to get rid of him. Marcaunon deserved it.

"I'm frustrated because I caused you cry, again, even though I had promised myself to never hurt you. I'm also frustrated that the way I solve my problems won't be effective in regards to you. I may be inept at the department of emotions, but let me tell you this straight, you idiot of a parent - you're the same. I suppose we really are alike. We're both horrible at opening up. Though that can be blamed to our insecurities; such as how we loathe the thought of disappointing one another. For I, I would not want to see your smile disappear when I tell you that I am actually a seventy-seven-year-old man residing within your son's body. And for you, you did not wish to inform me that you were the one who had... as much as it pains me to say this, you were the one who ended my life. Rejoice, you dunderhead, because as much as I abhor Potter, the feelings of affection I have for my mother Marcaunon outweighs my hatred for your previous identity."

He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing - and if it was a little high pitched and insane, he would pretend to be oblivious to it all!

Everything had been a misunderstanding. They were truly alike. Their worries were even the same! How foolish. If he had just listened to Death, he would have been able to get everything out of his system faster. He truly was a fool. Death would definitely get into his face and poke his cheeks whilst saying; 'i told you so'.

"Heh. I feel like a fool now. To be lectured by someone who is in a body of a seven years old and is more emotionally constipated than I am. How lame."

"Indeed you are a fool. But you are mine. And I take care of what's mine."

"Possessive."

"I won't deny that."

"Will you continue to be my son?"

"Really, what am I to do with you. Had nothing entered the thing in between your ears?"

"Ah... Please spare me the lecture I know that will come about my intellect."

"The things I do for you. Fine. I'll spare the lecture for now. But never forget this, mother - it matters not that your name used to be Harry Potter. It matters not that my name used to be Tom Riddle. All that matters now is that you're now Marcaunon Gaunt, and I am Marchosias Gaunt. We may have a few quarrels now and then after this big reveal, but we are kin. You taught me how to care, and I have already taken that lesson to heart. You are my treasure. Sorry, but you're stuck with me until death do us part. Because, as you know, Dark Lords loathe to let go of their treasures."

"Fufufu. But you're not a dark lord."

"... You're ruining the tear-jerking moment I painstakingly tried to set up, mother."

"Meh. I'm sure you can do it again, oh genius son of mine."

Small hands cupped his cheeks gently as slender fingers began to rub soothing circles across his cheekbones and jaw. He could not help but lean into the touch, his eyes half-lidded as he fought the lull of sleep.

"Sleep. I'll be here when you're awake."

Right.

Marcaunon closed his eyes as he leaned against his son - and oh, how happy he was to be able to call Chaos dear his son once again. After they were well rested, he would properly explain the reason as to why they were here, what they would snitch from this dimension, and finally, the bloody paperwork Death kept on sending to him.

And then when he was done with the explanations, they can relax in this dimension for a year, just getting to re-know each other. Of course, they would be keeping the fact that they had the orb of destruction a secret until the last day from Death. If that workaholic were to find out that Marcaunon had already known the location of the orb, they would be home before he could say 'treacle tart'!

[Line Break]

Date: 1 September 1968
Location: Hogwarts, Marc's bedchamber

Amidst fluttering white butterflies stood an inky portal that was darker than black itself. It was oozing with negative (death) energy, and if one were to be exposed to it for a prolonged period of time, they would definitely turn mad.

If it could be described with a word, it would be the Abyss.

Well, not to Marcuanon though.

He, along with his now 8 years old son (and two serpents that had rushed out of the bedchamber immediately), was spat out of Death's portal like they were unwanted pests.

Whilst Chaos had safely landed on their shared bed, Marcaunon himself had been thrown to the floor and almost had his neck broken by how fast he was going.

With a few curses leaving his lips, he popped his shoulder back into place as he glared nastily at Death, who had somehow appeared in front of him, Its Avada colored eyes bright with satisfaction.

How someone so ancient could be so petty, Marcaunon would never know.

As if reading his mind, It snorted at him rudely before disappearing along with Its portal, as if never here the first place. Probably to work. Death was dedicated like that. Like how It was dedicated to breaking a few of his bones when It found out that he had the orb of destruction the whole time just a few minutes ago.

Ah, he would need to watch out for fish bones in his candies now. Yes, Death can cause someone to choke on a fish bone whilst eating candy and die. Terrifying.

He distracted himself by turning his attention to something other than dying. His butterflies were all fluttering around him excitedly as they welcomed him home, and Marcaunon smiled with soft eyes as he patted them one by one with a finger. He had truly missed his sinners.

"Are you alright, mother? I heard something similar to a bone being shattered."

"You worry too much, love. Just Mort being his usual loving self." He stretched with a pleasurable groan (and ignoring a few broken ribs that would heal soon) as he lay down on the floor. He felt truly at home in Hogwarts. It was as if the castle itself was welcoming him home with invisible hugs and kisses.

Marchosias shuffled around the bedchamber, and as soon as the lad was near enough to him, Marcaunon grabbed him around the middle and hugged his little bundle of joy like a teddy bear.

Chaos simply sighed in resignation, although those ruby eyes of his were soft with fondness.

"The sorting will begin soon, mother."

"Yeah."

"And we should be getting dressed."

"Alright."

"Preferably now."

"Mhm."

"Dumbledore is getting beheaded at this year's sorting."

"Uh huh."

He heard a sigh, but it was distant as his eyelids fluttered close. He felt too comfortable to move.

Marcaunon found himself lying alone on an unknown bed in an equally unknown room a minute later - which would have caused him to be more alert if it were not for how safe he felt at being here.

He was feeling awfully lazy today, so he merely scanned the room with his eyes, and after finding that there was no threat, he relaxed his muscles and snuggled deeper into the Slytherin green blankets.

It was whilst he was busy being a cacoon that the door creaked open. He was at full attention immediately, and he rolled out of the bed, blanket being thrown messily aside in favor of whipping out his wand... which was not there.

Marcaunon blinked rapidly as he patted himself down, feeling awkward at not having a weapon on him... as well as suspicious at not having a weapon on him!

A sultry chuckle brought him out of his confusion, and he glowered at the shadowed figure leaning by the door. The room he was in was dark, and the only lighting he had was the lamp by his bedside.

"Who are you?" He demanded with a fierce glare, his eyes bleeding crimson.

"We should really stop meeting like this." the man stated with a wave of his hand, and as he paused in his speech, he made his way towards Marcaunon.

The face that was revealed to him made him gasp and took a step back.

"How...?"

"Simple. You called - and I answered."

The man, Voldemort, reached out a hand, and it hovered over Marcaunon's cheek hesitatingly before settling gently over the ugly scar.

They rubbed soothing circles over his flushed skin, and he almost leaned into the touch because it reminded him of Chaos. Almost.

"I thought you were gone." Voldemort's face was blank as he said those words, and his eyes held a certain emotion that Marcaunon couldn't quite decipher.

It was because of that emotion that Marcaunon withheld his tongue of any rude commentaries and simply remained silent and unmoving.

Those fingers gradually began to climb lower and settle on his neck, directly above his pulse.

His cousin was curiously fingering his disgusting scars, and for that, Marcaunon felt shameful. Tom Riddle was truly a beautiful specimen of the human race. And when compared to him...

He took a step back, letting the man's hand hover in between of them before they retreated.

"I would really like to stop meeting you like this." He whispered under his breath as he closed his eyes. "It's not good for my heart."

His lips parted and as he readied himself to speak of things he would have surely regretted, but then his cheeks were roughly pinched by childish fingers.

"Uweh?! Chaoosh?"

"Are you awake now, mother? We really need to get ready for the sorting. It's bad to be late for the first day of school - work." Chaos grumbled seriously as he continued to stretch Marcaunon's cheeks.

The boy looked positively unimpressed at him.

"Stahp dhat! Merlin. Somehow, it feels like our roles are always reversed."

"And you just realized that now? Really, mother, you truly are dense. You're lucky you have Mort and I to protect you."

"Is that any way to talk to your mother?" Marcaunon pouted as he stood up, his feet already bringing him towards his wardrobe. "With all of your impatientness, I would think you can't wait to see our esteemed headmaster."

Chaos choked on air as Marcaunon laughed cheerfully, happy that he had finally made his little boy speechless. Next on his list; Death - his death long companion.

A/N(2): Ah. I rushed this chapter too much when I'm still down with a fever. But the inspiration just hit me so I couldn't help myself! I needed to write it down before it all fled. So, yeah. This is what I came up with after a whole day of writing randomly, and 6 hours of editing those stupid random dialogues until early morning.

I seriously thank you guys for being patient with me... even after I went MIA for a year. The PMs and reviews truly made me happy after I came online on this account!

Story recommendation for today: Melodies Unheard, but Felt All the Same by Watermelonsmellinfellon. Ok so... I haven't been reading fanfiction for quite some time, and after watching an anime called Yuri! on Ice, I decided to look up a fanfic and discovered this masterpiece. And hey, it's from one of my favorite LV/HP fanfiction writer! So yes, I'm recommending this. Though I do recommend that you watch the anime first to understand what it's about. Ok, so, basically, this fanfic is about a deaf figure skater. Eh, it's good. I'm not sure how to recommend a fanfic that's not HP to HP fans.

Rainbows and Fevers,
GenderlessPerson