Eric yawned and stretched out as he stood from bed. He had finally figured out the trace last summer which was a relief. Turns out the charms were extremely subtle, but after spending a while searching his body he’d found the little charm weaved around his cerebellum.
He had worked carefully, but by the time he had returned to Hogwarts over last summer he’d isolated the whole thing and carefully smashed it into fragments with his magic. Breaking the trace on himself and letting him use magic as freely as he liked without the Ministry able to find out and get him in trouble. It was convenient being able to grab things without getting out of bed while he was alone in his little room where no one else would see.
Now that he was the fancy scholarship kid, he got his own room rather than sharing a big one like he had used to with the other orphans.
Things over the summer had been going smoothly. Eric had been listening to the radio and enjoying his time with the other orphans. When they were rude to him, he found that he didn’t mind all that much. It wasn’t nearly as mean spirited as how the bullies were at Hogwarts. The magical bullies always had a sense of superiority, like just because they had a hint of magic they deserved to rule over everyone else. It irritated Eric.
The orphan’s taunts were more authentic to Eric and almost comforting in comparison. Of course he still subtly tripped people who insulted him with his magic tendrils. Shot back the insults where he could… Some little things. But not anything more than that. He thought that they were to him what most other people would think of as family, along with Matron Claire. People usually went easier on family and were more forgiving. And so was Eric.
All the other orphans just thought that Eric was lucky, and it became a running joke of people tripping asking the others what they’d done to insult Eric recently.
It was good, and things were working out well. They respected him, but didn't fear him too much. They were his friends.
Eric went outside while whistling a happy little tune to himself. After long practice he’d finally mastered it and could whistle the notes as easy as could be.
When he was outside he noticed a man standing at the gate wearing a black cloak. He blinked in shock as the man opened the gate to the orphanage courtyard with a wave of his wand and walked forward menacingly. Eric glanced around and noticed none of the orphans had noticed the man. He seemed to have a sort of spell on him that made everyone else not notice him…
When the man was closer and when Eric saw his face he nearly laughed.
“Oh crap! I was actually scared for a second there,” Eric said with a chuckle, “Man, you’re back? I thought Balthazar exploded you already. How’d you recover from that?”
“Harry Potter. There will be no more theatrics,” Voldemort said as he raised his wand with a cruel smile, “This is the end.”
“Yeah, okay. Whatever,” Eric said dismissively as he waved his hand, “But seriously, you were little chunks of red bits when Balthazar was done with you. How are you here?”
“Avada Ked-”
“Yoink!” Eric had his magic tendril grab Voldemort’s wand and had it shoot over to him. He let out a pant of effort as he caught the wand. Oof, the wizard sure had been channeling a lot of magic into that thing.
Voldemort blinked as if dumbfounded and stared at his empty hand. Eric stared at him with his attacker’s wand in hand.
“Well?” Eric asked, “What are you going to do now? I’ve got your wand.”
Eric made a high pitched tone like how you’d do for a baby, “And I’ve got your nose too you little cutie.”
His voice returned to normal, “Oh wait…”
Voldemort looked uncertain but eventually settled on a sneer.
“I have some wandless magic of my own. I don’t need my wand to kill you.”
Eric watched curiously as Voldemort lifted a hand towards him and prepared to fire a spell out of his palm. Eric glanced around at all the other orphans milling about the courtyard. Yeah, probably shouldn’t let him fire that one off.
With a hard slap, Eric had one of his magic tendrils reach in and break one of Voldemort’s fingers. The man hissed and the spell he had been creating sputtered and died into loose wisps of magic. Man, Voldemort probably had only just barely managed to even construct that spell at all with how quickly it had collapsed in on itself.
“Ugh. This is the lamest assassination attempt ever,” Eric groaned, “There’s an alleyway nearby. Let’s continue this out of sight.”
Voldemort prepared another wandless spell, but Eric’s magic tendrils struck inwards and disrupted the man’s spells and locked him in place both. Eric started walking out the orphanage courtyard onto the street.
“Eric?” He turned around and saw Matron Claire standing in the doorway looking concerned, “What are you doing? Please stay in the courtyard.”
“Sorry, Matron Claire,” Eric replied as Voldemort kept trying and failing to cast his wandless magic, gagged and restrained by Eric’s magic tendrils as the man floated there behind him. The man was powerful magically no doubt, but his attempts at wandless magic were amateurish to the extreme and little jabs with Eric’s magic caused them to fail completely. It was kind of pathetic, honestly. This was the guy all of the wizarding world had been so frightened of?
“I just wanted to take a walk around," Eric said to Matron Claire, "Go to that park a few blocks away. I’ll be back in a little bit, promise?”
Matron Claire hesitated, “Well, alright. But you come right back here after, you hear? No funny business or no radio time for a week. And if you’re not back in an hour I’ll come looking for you and you’ll be in big trouble!”
Aw, she really cared.
“Okay, Matron Claire. I will.”
“And shut the gate on your way out,” Matron Claire added, “I don’t want the younger ones getting any ideas.”
“Okay, will do.”
Eric left and shut the orphanage gate behind him, Voldemort still floating and trying to cast his magic next to Eric. Amusingly enough, his distraction spell was still active so no one noticed him floating there.
Eric led the both of them to a nearby dark alley that Matron Claire had firmly forbidden all of the orphans so much as ever looking at. Eric went in.
“Oy! Scram, Norm,” Eric said and lightly kicked the homeless man sitting there on a pile of cardboard, sleeping with a bottle of whiskey in a brown paper bag at the side of the alley.
“Blegh!” The man said as he startled awake still clutching his alcohol and squinted blearily up at Eric with bloodshot eyes.
“Eric… Ya blighter. Pay first, wake a man when he’s resting like that, damned brat…” The man slurred as he sat up, leaning against the wall.
“Yep, usual rate,” Eric reached into his pocket and took out forty muggle pounds and handed them to the grubby man.
“Pleasure doing bidness wid ya, sir,” Norm said, “Place is all yers fer the day,”
He stood and stumbled into the street, hissing and shielding his eyes with his hand before taking a swig out of his bottle and walking away around the corner and out of sight.
“I’ve got an ongoing deal with him,” Eric explained as he lowered Voldemort and pressed him to the ground without Voldemort being able to stop him.
“He keeps this place clear of other people mostly, and I get a great spot to practice my magic when I pay him off. Now, Assassin. Time to give you your beating.”
Voldemort’s eyes widened just before his head snapped to the side as Eric started hitting him full force with his magic tendrils.
— — —
“What are you trying to kill me for anyways?” Eric idly asked the groaning form of Voldemort. Eric had fully worked over the man top to bottom, the whole man’s body probably was one giant bruise right now. Eric probably had cracked a few of Voldemort’s ribs, but only the single finger from before was broken and after his initial assault he’d mostly left the head alone.
Voldemort shot him a look of disbelief, “You do not even… know the tale? Of my defeat?”
“Well, yeah,” Eric said, “I was a baby and cried really hard or something. Then you were startled and tripped and fell over a toy or whatever and killed yourself by accident. Hit your head on the floor or whatever. You should watch your step. But what’s that got to do with attacking me now?”
“Tripped… and fell? Preposterous! I am Lord Voldemort, it was the ancient magics invoked by your mother’s sacrifice that killed me. She threw herself in front of my killing curse when I allowed her to step aside… She put a shield around you to defend you and reflected my curse back at me. It is from forces beyond your comprehension, boy. Not something as mundane as that.”
“Whatever,” Eric said, “You’re weak as shit compared to me. You didn’t have to make all of that up as an excuse so that you sound more impressive. I think you’re pathetic either way. I’m still not over the nose bit yet. You did a whole elaborate ritual to come back to life and couldn’t manage to make yourself a body with a proper nose?”
“Enough!” Voldemort said, “Just kill me and get it over with. I will return and defeat you next time despite your tricks.”
“Somehow I doubt it. If I kill you, then you’d just come back again and bother me more. I’m sure that that hot crazy woman that cut off her hand knows a ritual or two to bring you back to life again… She seems hardcore, but hopefully she doesn't have to give up a limb each time...”
Eric thought about it for a few minutes as Voldemort struggled to cast a killing charm on himself wandlessly. He was having much more success than he had attacking Eric since the spell would remain in his body the whole time. But Eric was still able to disrupt all of Voldemort’s spells before they formed.
“Oh, yeah,” Eric finally said as he let out a full grin from ear to ear, “I’ve just had the greatest idea. You’re going to love it.”
Eric took Voldemort’s stolen wand and thought about it for a few seconds, “Alright, now how did it go? Seems sneaking in on Durmstrang’s little practice sessions for their unforgivable curses will pay off big time. Oh, yeah okay. Imperio!”
Eric shot the malformed spell at Voldemort and it bounced off and did nothing.
“No, not that. Okay, here we… Imperio!” Eric failed again.
“You will fail,” Voldemort said, although he didn’t seem completely sure, “I am too powerful. I will shake off the curse on my own.”
“I know,” Eric said absentmindedly as he tried to remember the wand movement, “I only need it to work for a few weeks though. I don’t see you as the type to broadcast your humiliating defeat and being put under the Imperius out to the world. Imperio!”
This one worked and the charm reached out and sank into Voldemort. But it was weak and Voldemort shook it off in moments.
“Don’t worry,” Eric assured Voldemort, “I’ll keep practicing until I get this right.”
— — —
“So, what do you think? Convincing enough, Voldy? You got the blood from the vault in the Ministry right?”
“Yes, Eric. It took much effort, but it wasn’t very well protected and I replaced it with the blood of a random muggle undetected. And put in the failsafes to destroy it when the Aurors go to check on it again. I have also acquired the polyjuice potion for our needs.”
Eric smiled at the blank faced Voldemort standing in his room in the orphanage. It had been days and he still showed no sign of breaking out of the Imperius curse yet. Although Eric was sure the moment would come soon with how magically powerful Voldemort was.
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“Oh, you’re going to be absolutely furious once we pull this off. I just can’t wait,” Eric said eagerly as he looked at the blank mask made of gold in Voldemort's hands. It only had two eye holes cut out and a grill with slits on the mouth. Voldemort had assured Eric that it was almost identical to the silver death eater masks even if it was golden instead of silver.
“Well, hand it over! Gimme, gimme!” Eric said as he grinned down at the golden mask.
Voldemort handed over a potion that looked like thick mud. Eric eyed it suspiciously.
“And this is Polyjuice potion? Is it safe? You already put Pettigrew’s blood in it?”
“Yes, Eric. It is polyjuice potion and when you consume it all you will transform into him for four hours. There are no poisons added to it, unfortunately.”
“Great. Thought you might try to slip something in. Alright, come back in five minutes. No peeking on me while I’m changing. Changing clothes and form both hehehe.”
“As you order.”
In a crack of apparition Voldemort disappeared. Eric swallowed the potion in one long chug, even if he grimaced as he did so. It tasted like raw sewage. He quickly stripped as his body began to shift and bubble. Through a disturbing two minutes of Eric lying on the floor and groaning, he transformed into the form of the naked Peter Pettigrew. Eric shook his head and reached to the bed and slid into some generic black robes. He put on the golden mask and it quickly molded to his face and shifted so it was comfortable and remained there even without a strap to hold it up. The wonders of magic.
“Man, this guy was a wreck,” Eric said to himself as he used his hands to explore Pettigrew’s body, “How did this guy survive without anxiety medication? I feel my blood pressure skyrocketing just by standing here doing nothing at all.”
After another minute Voldemort returned in another crack of displaced air to stand in the room. Eric felt himself jump like a startled deer at the noise.
“Ugh, no wonder everyone thought this guy was a coward,” Eric complained, “I thought you were exaggerating, Voldy. But this is ridiculous. I’m glad I asked you which death eater you respected the least before committing to using Pettigrew. It’ll only make it even worse when you break free from the curse.”
Voldemort simply nodded his head, “Yes,” he said shortly.
“Alright, let’s head off. Time to cause a ruckus!” Eric said, grinning behind his mask, “Remember no killing anyone even if they go for the kill first. Maiming and general harm is all good though. And from now you must call me only Dark Lord Pettigrew and refer to yourself as First Servant Voldemort.”
“Yes, Dark Lord Pettigrew.”
“Alright then, take us away then! Time to have some fun!”
— — —
When the two of them walked into the Leaky Cauldron, the people inside were immediately set on high alert. Voldemort stood there in full view of everyone with the man with a golden death eater mask as well as his own dark cloak following closely behind.
“I am Prime Servant Voldemort!” Voldemort said to the nervous crowd, “Here to announce the emergence of the true dark lord. A genius in magic and deception both, above all others in centuries! Peter Pettigrew! My lord!”
The crowd seemed skeptical at the claim. Voldemort was a boogeyman lurking in the shadows. None but the death eaters or his victims had seen his face during the last wizarding war.
Eric waved the wand over his head and with a swipe of his wand made his golden mask invisible, revealing his face to the crowd. The face of Peter Pettigrew with a confident grin on his face.
“Shit, it’s really Pettigrew!” The barkeep Tom shouted, “Call the Aurors!”
“Prime Servant Voldemort,” Eric ordered arrogantly, “Show these fools your power. None of them are worth my time.”
“Yes, Dark Lord Pettigrew,” Voldemort replied respectfully before raising his wand and launching a flurry of spells into the crowd. Most screamed and fled for the exits without fighting back as Voldemort laid into them. A few fought back, but were quickly overwhelmed by Voldemort’s raw power. Eric stood there watching the scene calmly, watching idly as if seeing something mildly interesting on the ground as he walked on the street.
After a few minutes, all in the tavern had either fled or been struck down by Voldemort’s spells. Most were convulsing and had all sorts of horrible boils or torturous dark curses cast on them. But none of the spells were fatal. One of the strange quirks of dark magic was it was generally not often immediately fatal. Generally they had a healing component to drag out the suffering of the victim and increased their cruelty. Or at least that’s what Voldemort had told Eric when Eric had asked him about it.
All across the tavern there were scattered bodies that were all cursed, with a few patrons around the edges of the room cowering and hoping to not be seen.
Voldemort turned around and bowed deeply as everyone who remained aware of their surroundings kept watching the pair of them.
“Dark Lord Pettigrew. I have cleaned away the trash. Shall we continue?”
“Yes, Prime Servant,” Eric said, having fun playing his role for a bit despite the rapidly beating heart of the anxiety ridden Pettigrew as everyone in the room focused on him. His golden mask was still down, showing Pettigrew’s face to the world.
The both of them walked out of the room, ignoring the people remaining behind in the tavern.
“Bombarda!” Voldemort chanted. The wall to Diagon alley was blasted open in a massive explosion that sent bricks flying outwards onto the street. All of the people on the bustling street froze and turned towards the two of them as they strolled through the gap, Voldemort first, and ‘Dark Lord Pettigrew’ following closely behind.
“I am Prime Servant Voldemort!” Voldemort shouted with a voice enhanced by magic to reverberate across the street, “All hail Dark Lord Pettigrew! Genius in magic and trickery like none other on this planet!”
Eric still had his golden mask down so as many people here would see Pettigrew’s face on him.
“Prime Servant Voldemort!” Eric said in a similarly enhanced voice, “Show them your power, meager as it is! I shall intervene if any true threats deign to make an appearance.”
“Gladly, Dark Lord Pettigrew,” Voldemort said before laying into the crowd with his spells like he had in the tavern. The whole street instantly descended into chaos as Voldemort began engaging dozens of people who chose to fight compared to the hundreds who were fleeing for their lives.
Eric noticed a seven year old boy being trampled as the people around him went to flee, separated from his parents. With his magic tendrils he pulled the battered boy to the side and into the nearby gutter where he wouldn’t be killed. There was no need to turn this production into a tragedy. Best be careful just in case Balthazar was still watching him somehow. For all Eric knew Balthazar could smite him remotely with his magic if Eric did something too terrible for Balthazar’s morals to handle it. Whatever those lines in morals were for the demon, Eric wasn't exactly clear on that part exactly. Best to play it safe. Especially for something as public and visible as this was.
Several people cast spells at Eric as he watched Voldemort fight with feigned disinterest again. He jabbed the incoming spells with his magic tendrils and they dissolved into mist before they even reached him. He didn’t make any motion that he even noticed the spells as several more people began attacking him as they realized that he wasn’t retaliating.
Voldemort was doing well, huffing and puffing but had defeated most of the pedestrians that fought him.
Eric looked to the side as he got into character and glanced at one of the people frantically casting attack spells at Dark Lord Pettigrew full force.
“Enough,” Eric said, “Quit your buzzing, insects.”
He raised his hand and had his magic tendrils break the offending man’s arms and legs at once, sending him to the ground screaming. All of Eric’s attackers paused in their assault and saw ‘Dark Lord Pettigrew’ ignored them in favor of watching Voldemort’s battle again.
All of them began to flee and Eric did nothing to stop them. Where were the Aurors? Eric had thought that they’d be here by now…
Voldemort struck down the last of the ones he was battling, the rest of the crowd having fled by now. Down the street, a familiar large man was dragged forcibly out of a bar, the Prancing Pony. Eric waved the wand in his hand again and his face was covered in the golden mask. Enough people had seen Pettigrew’s face and heard his voice that Eric should be fine to wear the golden mask from now on and not worry about his facial expressions anymore.
“-Cheat!” Hagrid shouted in a slurred voice that boomed through the silent street, “They marked the cards, I’m tellin’ ya! Scammed me out of nearly ten galleons, they did! It ain’t right! Merlin damned cheats, the lot of them!”
The two hefty bouncers threw Hagrid out on the street, but both froze as they took in the chaos around them. Eric in his golden mask and Voldemort both stared at them from among the piles of groaning bodies littering the street.
“What in Merlin’s name is going on?” Hagrid rumbled as he looked around the street in disbelief. Voldemort took a menacing step towards the half-giant but before he could do anything else, dozens of Aurors all apparated onto the street all at once from all sides around them. Half worked to evacuate the downed people before apparating away again. The rest immediately started blasting their spells towards ‘Dark Lord Pettigrew’ and Voldemort.
Eric joined the fight with his face hidden under the golden mask. He reached out his hand with a clawed gesture and dragged his hand across the crowd of Aurors even as he dissolved the spells shooting at him from all sides at the same time. He was starting to pant slightly with all the spells blocking, but he’d be able to last a little longer to show off ‘Dark Lord Pettigrew’s’ true power first.
Wherever Eric dragged his hand across the crowd of Aurors, he had his magic tendrils break their arms or legs, taking them out of the fight whenever they crossed the path of his clawed gesture.
Aurors with bubble protego shields only had Eric holding his hand pointed at them for an extra moment as his tendrils worked together to shatter the weak point of the defense to lower the shield before continuing to break the arms of the Aurors standing inside of it.
Eric continued in that way for a few seconds, the resolve of the Aurors facing him beginning to break as nothing they did appeared to affect him in the slightest as he dragged his hand across the crowd of them and sent them groaning in pain and unable to fight as they fell to the ground in their shock from their twinned broken arms and occasional leg.
Eric felt a large scale ward activate over the area.
“Voldemort. It is time to leave. I believe we’ve overstayed our welcome,” Eric said in character, “Return to me.”
Voldemort immediately flew back towards Eric at high speed. At some point he’d leapt off the ground and started using the black cloud flying spell to fight the Aurors. He looked rather ragged and was covered in shallow wounds. It seems that even Voldemort was struggling to take on this many Aurors at once.
Voldemort came directly to Eric and grabbed him on the shoulder with one hand. All the Aurors on the street began focusing their efforts on attacking Eric and Voldemort standing together.
“I am blocked, my lord,” Voldemort said, “They have put up an anti-apparition ward.”
“Oh, that old thing?” Eric said as Pettigrew, aware of all the Aurors around them listening to them speaking even despite the battle, “I had nearly forgotten about it. I’d forgotten how weak you are, Prime Servant.”
Eric spread his magic tendrils to the ward permeating the street around them. He didn’t understand it in the slightest, nor could he apparate himself. But after only a few seconds of prodding and injecting his magic, the whole structure began to collapse in the section of the street where Eric and Voldemort were standing.
“Until next time,” Eric shouted as Voldemort’s grip on his shoulder tightened, “Dark Lord Pettigrew bids you farewell.”
The world twisted around Eric and Voldemort and in the next moment they were in an unoccupied field. Just as Aurors began appearing after them, Voldemort apparated again. One or two Aurors managed to follow them this time. Voldemort apparated four more times and lost all pursuit.
With one final apparition, they were standing back in Eric’s room at the orphanage.
Eric quickly took off the golden mask and handed it to Voldemort, who received it.
“HA! hahahaha! That was great!” Eric laughed, “I made them all look like idiots. And you too, you looked pathetic next to ‘Pettigrew’ there in front of all of those witnesses. Oops, breaking free of the imperius, finally. Let’s refresh that…”
Eric raised the spare wand that he had been using as ‘Pettigrew’s’ and recast the imperius curse on Voldemort again.
“Alright, and the last touch…”
Eric reached under his bed and retrieved the bright red clown nose. He grinned wickedly as he held it out to Voldemort who received it with a look of faint distaste on his face.
“Go ahead, do it,” Eric said eagerly, “Permanent sticking charm, put it where your nose should be!”
Voldemort’s arm trembled and his face flashed with rage, but he followed orders and attached the clown nose to the expanse of skin where his nose should have been.
“BWA HA HA HA HA!” Eric said while pointing at Voldemort and holding his sides, “BWA HA HA ha ha ha… ha… ha. Oh my god. I’m in tears. This’ll be amazing. What are your orders if someone asks about your nose?”
“For someone unaffiliated with myself I will torture them for a few minutes cruelly but leave them alive,” Voldemort said tonelessly, Eric barely able to suppress bursting into laughter again as the red clown nose slightly moved as Voldemort’s head shifted.
“I will not remove the clown nose, nor attempt to do so, nor allow others to remove it,” Voldemort continued.
“If a death eater or one who I have power over asks about the nose then I will repeat the line, ‘This is my nose now. None of you are to question it,’ Then I will cast the killing curse at the offender and kill them immediately as punishment.”
“Yes, yes, excellent,” Eric said while grinning ear to ear, “What of your other orders?”
“I will gather my death eaters again. I will do all in my power to make them believe the following statements. That ‘Dark Lord Pettigrew’ is the true puppet master and that I was merely a proxy for him ever since the beginning of the war over fifteen years ago. He acted cowardly simply as a test for all other death eaters to see how they would react. That I am a mere servant of him, and obey his slightest commands and wishes in an attempt to gain his favor. All decisions I make to the death eaters will be couched in whether ‘Dark Lord Pettigrew’ will approve of them or not. Finally, that I have no interest in you, Eric Potter, and believe your survival as a baby was a unique occurrence that had nothing to do with you yourself. Therefore you are uninteresting and not worth retaliating against. All of these ideas I will do the utmost to make the death eaters and the wider world believe.”
“Uh huh,” Eric said, “And what are the last ones?”
“I won’t mention that I am under the imperius curse or mention anything about you or discuss any information related to you at all that isn’t already public. If I feel that I am about to break free of the Imperius Curse,” Voldemort said reluctantly, “Then I will announce to the death eaters that Dark Lord Pettigrew has summoned me to inform me of new orders. After which I shall apparate into the ocean and use the killing curse on myself.”
Eric clapped his hands delightedly.
“Oh, yes yes yes! That all sounds great. You’ll be positively foaming at the mouth after you resurrect again and find out what you’ve done while under the curse. I’ll have so much fun taunting you next time you try to kill me. Anyways, you’ve got work to do. Weeks of it hopefully if the Imperius curse can hold you for that long. Go on ahead.”
“Yes, my lord,” Voldemort said tonelessly before apparating away again.
Eric lay on the bed as Pettigrew and waited for the polyjuice potion to wear off. After a few minutes there was knocking at the door.
“Eric? Dinner? Are you alright? The other children say that you’ve been holed up in your room for hours,” Matron Claire said from the other side.
Eric mimicked a sore throat and coughed.
“Just a bit sick,” Eric said in Pettigrew’s voice while heavily coughing and groaning, “Just need some extra sleep. Not hungry.”
Matron Claire hesitated, “Okay. Hope you feel better. Just let me know if you need any medicine or have your temperature checked.”
“I’ll be… fine,” Eric coughed, “Thanks.”
“Okay, Eric. Good night now.”
Matron Claire stepped away, going downstairs to serve dinner for the rest of the orphans probably.
Eric rolled over and stared at the ceiling with a satisfied smile. Ah, he couldn’t wait until Voldemort tried to attack him next.
It would be so much fun to taunt about it when Voldemort failed again.