Time Jump with a Twist

Voldemort awoke in a strange office. Everything was grey, ranging from an almost white grey all the way to a dark charcoal grey that was almost black, but never actual black or white. The design was modern in a muggle fashion. Clean and efficient. He immediately hated it.

Nothing personal stood out, nothing important jumped to his attention, it was spectacularly bland.

Checking himself over, he found himself clothed in charcoal grey robes, his old yew wand in its holster. His skin was like it had been before his first death, although there was no warmth to it.

Voldemort blinked and he suddenly saw a copy of his teenage self now sitting in the chair before him. Tom picked up a folder he had not seen on the clear desk and opened it before he methodically set aside various papers from within and began to check off things on a tick list. Nodding to himself, he finally looked up at Voldemort who flinched at the literally burning gaze he gave him. Sickly Avada Kedavra green flames burned in his empty eye sockets but he could still feel Tom's vision almost dissecting him as Tom surveyed him.

"Please confirm that you are Mr Tom Marvolo Riddle aka Lord Voldemort aka You-Know-Who, aka He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, self-claimed heir to Slytherin. Son of the Human Tom Riddle Junior and the Magi Merope Gaunt. Born 31st December 1926 Anno Domini in the Medical Wing of Wool's Orphanage, London, Great Britain, Europe, Terra, Sol System, Orion Arm, Milky Way Galaxy, 52nd branch of Yggdrasil."

Pretending to be amused and calm when he distinctly was not, Voldemort channelled Abraxas Malfoy and drawled his answer, "I can confirm most of that. Why do you look like me?"

"Who else could judge you fairly with complete knowledge of what, when, how, why and who you have done in your existence. Now, let's get on to business. First of all Mr Riddle, congratulations on completing your destiny. Now we..."

"Wait, what?!"

"Mr Riddle, I am a busy being, please do not interrupt me. Now, seeing as you are obviously confused and upset by the congratulations, I shall spend some of my very valuable time to clarify the matter for you. I may even answer a few questions. On the 2nd May 1998 your destiny was completed upon your defeat by one Harry James Potter through the use of Priori Incantatem. Harry is the son of James Charlus Potter and Lily Rose Evans, the wielder of the Deathly Hallows and the true Heir of Slytherin through his mother's bloodline."

"But, the prophesy, it was about Potter and myself, either one of us could win. Why was it my destiny to die by his hand and not to win against him?"

Tom looked at a sheet of paper and frowned, "Odd, that's not what we have recorded in your file."

Voldemort blinked in shock, "But... The Prophesy. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies."

Tom chuckled for a moment as he tapped the sheet he had just read, "Really Mr Riddle, I can assure you that whilst there is a Prophesy included in your file, it is not that one. The Prophesy related to you became defunct during your 3rd year of Hogwarts. One Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore intervened upon discovering it and acted to prevent you completing it."

"What was the Prophesy?"

"I suppose it doesn't hurt for you to know about it. I'll not repeat it verbatim as we need to progress your case. The short version of events were that you were Prophesised to fight and defeat one Gellert Grindelwald, you and your followers would then continue to defeat a great primal evil released upon Gellert's death, which, had you defeated it, you would have ushered in a Golden Age of Magic, your name would have gone down in history. 3 to 400 years after your death, your name would have actually replaced Merlin's and would have been a global name rather than just used in the UK as Merlin's is. Instead Dumbledore's actions pushed you to your current path and that destiny was negated, thus the Fates assigned a new Champion to take your place, one Hermione Jane Granger, supported by her husband Harry James Potter. This was actually deemed a better result in the long run as we managed to merge her Destiny to unite the normal and magical worlds back together in order to defeat the afore mentioned evil. Everything was going smoothly until Dumbledore intervened once again. Actually more than once according to the additional notes."

"Primal Evil? So Dumbledore prevented a Golden Age of Magic out of what? Jealousy?"

"Basically… Yes. He tried to fulfil your Prophesy, but it didn't work, therefore he rebuilt the bindings and ensured Gellert was kept alive. Which you disrupted quite thoroughly when you killed him. Now, I have been authorised by the Concepts to make you an offer. Currently you are in a very unfortunate position. Due to your Horcrux you should have been immediately transferred to the Void after processing. However due to your past position as a Champion, we have a few options available to us to rectify matters."

"Such as?"

"Well, according to the messages I've received on the way here, the best option is to return what is left of your soul to a point in history under flux. You would get to live the rest of your life as you wish as long as you complete a task for us."

"Why can't you act directly?"

"Because for some reason the Concepts have decided that mortals should be allowed free will and the ability to make choices for themselves. Several departments have been protesting this from the very Beginning, but nothing will sway the Concepts when they decide upon something. Even if we tell you to do something or else, throw things in your way to either tempt or drive you away. Sometimes you do something we didn't think you would. It's very annoying. We are prevented from acting directly, but we can use agents to try and bring about the results we desire. Personally I believe they are bored and are enjoying the stories mortals make."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"You are to ensure Hermione Granger marries Harry Potter, completes her destiny and ushers in the Golden Age. Whatever happens alongside that is up to you. You will have your complete memories of this discussion and everything up to the point of your latest demise."

"I have to do what!? I refuse, I'll not help that Mudblood do anything..."

Tom raised a single eyebrow as he watched Voldemort rant silently for a minute before realising he couldn't hear himself. "I think someone needs a timeout and an idea of what will happen if he declines the offer or tries to manipulate it."

With a blink, Voldemort found himself in a great void. He could see, hear, taste, feel or smell nothing. There was no motion, he tried to draw upon his magic and felt its absence as a painful ache, he was a fully thinking rock cut off from any stimuli.

His will was strong, it felt like days had passed when he began to scream, trying to hear anything at all.

Suddenly he was back in the office, Tom looking at him with a single raised eyebrow. "I do hope you will behave yourself now, I also presume you understand at least a fraction of one decision you can make now?"

Voldemort swallowed and nodded, "How... How long?"

"Does it really matter? You have all eternity to experience the Void if you wish, time there is defined by your perception of it. It is your choice after all. A complete soul cannot reside there, it will be drawn back to a world to exist, those with incomplete souls, well, there is no escape unless someone else pulls you out. So here's the offer, on one hand, there's the Void. On the other, you work for us, complete one little task and then we can discuss where you will end up."

"End up?"

It ranges from a fresh start through reincarnation, no memories or baggage to hold you down, all the way to forging you a world of your own to do with as you will. It all depends on how things turn out.

You've made a new prophesy before, why not do it again? Why do they need to succeed?

Tom sighed, For exactly the reason we need you to make the changes and not those two. We could have sent one or both back to change the end result, however, we would have needed them to go back with their memories. That reality would have ended even worse than the last attempt.

"I don't understand."

Tom smiled at him, "I know, I get that a lot. Let's just say that when those two found out what was being done to them, it got very messy. Their rampage made you look like a toddler with a tantrum over an afternoon nap. Admittedly they united Terra under a single banner, but that was after annihilating their enemies and several populations of bystanders. They then spread across the heavens conquering world after world and shattering those who rebelled and ground their remains to dust. They reverse engineered your research to discover how to make a Horcrux without damaging the soul. They then turned each other into their version of a Horcrux to attain immortality, made a backup and made unbreakable oaths to not make any more. Eventually they grew bored and succumbed to madness, they began to play games against each other until that Universe was destroyed and they died in each other's arms, having driven a basilisk venom coated blade in the others heart."

At Voldemort's wide eyed response, Tom chuckled, "I know, a rather theatrical and dramatic end, but they did nothing by halves. The Concepts however didn't like how that story ended, therefore, you. So it's simple, get them together, protect them from manipulations from certain others and let them complete their destiny. Destroy any reference to Horcrux and your other soul shards. Other than that, have fun. Or... You can say no. So, what's your choice?"

00000

"Harry, not that I'm complaining, but this is not quite what I thought being ambushed by Voldemort should look like."

Harry looked around at the Death Chamber, the dining tables with romantic candle lit lighting seemed rather odd even to him. "I know, it's kind of weird, nice, but weird. I think we'll have a bottle of the 1985 Richebourg Grand Cru to go with the Lasagne, oh and I'd like some treacle tart for pudding, don't forget the custard. Do you have any of the pink custard they make in muggle primary school?"

Lucius grimaced as he nodded. "An... excellent choice sir, I shall pass on your query to the chef to see what can be managed. Has... madam made a decision yet?"

Hermione smiled with malice at the pain on Lucius Malfoys face, "I think I'll have the Horntail dragon steak, medium rare, no garlic please. I'll have some chocolate cake for pudding as well."

Lucius bowed with a shudder but smiled as he responded. "I shall inform the chef immediately."

"Chocolate cake?" Lucius heard the Potter brat query as he walked away.

"Well I think that I could treat myself tonight, after all this is a special occasion and my parents won't know about it."

00000

Voldemort watched over everything from the balcony above, strange amusement filled him as he watched his minions scramble to please him. Severus' expletives from the kitchen were rather amusing, as was the quiet weeping that Lucius kept doing when he used his wine cellar to complete the orders.

The music was provided by some of his lesser Deatheaters by the Arch in the centre of the room, a quiet melody poured forth from their instruments, accompanied by the whispers from the strange portal within the Arch, everyone seemed to be enjoying it from what he could tell.

Bellatrix appeared to be flirting with the Longbottom boy and it appeared to be a mutual interest as the glares, snarling insults and threats came from both sides, he didn't realise Bella was interested in the young man. A bit awkward with her being a married woman old enough to be his mother, never mind that she had driven his parents into insanity, but as long as they were discrete or Rodolphus divorced her, what did it matter as long as they were happy. This relationship thing was nowhere near as hard as he thought it would be.

Rookwood and the Lovegood girl had spent most of the dinner drawing over their tablecloth, they had pinned another two to a nearby wall and were discussing something truly riveting by the way Rookwood was animated by the debate. He might have to have a look later and see what they were so interested in, something about a horned animal by the hand motions and doodles he could see from here.

Macnair and the Weasley boy appeared happy as well, the boy was taking notes as Macnair was regaling him with tales of his work, he was using the knife to show a few wand movements which the boy was copying. Ah, the Macnair variant of the Spider Bane spell, vicious and messy, but effective at annihilating arachnids. Clean up however was a mess, but that was why he had minions with House Elves, although the boy looked like he had just found his greatest hero.

The strangest table however was Rodolphus Lestrange and Ginevra Weasley. They were having a pleasant conversation and meal. Both were smiling and calmly discussing matters, although her cheeks kept turning pink at his words and tone, an obvious sign of her anger. Such a pity, he had hoped they would get along, but they seemed to lack chemistry. Maybe more than a few nudges would be needed after all, he would dislike having to make it an order, but Rodolphus was nothing if not loyal, he would do his duty.

A nudge on his magic from his wards in the entrance hall drew his attention and brought a frown to his face. Striding with focus he opened the doors to face the ragtag Order of the Burnt Turkey. Looking Dumbledore up and down with a raised eyebrow, he cut the headmaster off before he could say a word. "I'm sorry but do you have a reservation?"