Harry Potter: A Tale of Revenge

Albus Dumbledore was led into a well appointed goblin office.

" Greetings, Clan Leader Goldtooth."

A large, well dressed goblin wearing a sword by his side, stood up from behind his equally large mahogany desk, and smiled a twenty-four carat smile. The Goldtooths were well named."

" Greetings, Chief Warlock. Please. Sit."

He did so. There were few formalities between those who spoke the underground warrior tongue.

" I assume you are here about the" -the goblin dropped his voice in a show of mock secrecy- "You-know-what in vault 713?"

He smiled. "Indeed. I hope there haven't been any problems?"

Goldtooth grinned again. "None what so ever. A few goblins expressed an interest, but as soon as they learned that the immortal alchemist had provided his own special brand of defence, they didn't even bother to enquire further. And it's not as though Gringotts needs another one."

" Good good." It had taken a lot of work to persuade Nicholas to entrust him his most prized possession. But even then, his mentor and teacher had insisted on adding his own final defence.

The goblin shuffled a stack of papers. "I'm surprised you are picking it up this late."

" Yes, we had to upgrade security. I decided the previous plans were not fit for purpose."

The goblin fidgeted. "You know I've said before that Gringotts security is more than sufficient for holding items like this?"

His eyes twinkled. "Ah, yes, but not for the type of purpose I have in mind, Clan Leader."

Goldtooth sighed. "Very well, Chief Warlock, you know your own business best, I'm sure."

He looked up at the ceiling. "On that note, has there been anything of interest in our efforts to learn about our mysterious, masked wizarding clan leader?"

Goldtooth scowled. "Nothing. The Boneslicer clan are keeping their interests as close as ever. Various clans have lost several of their best fighters in just the last year trying to wrest control of various accounts from them."

He nodded. If Goldtooth was to be believed, the loyalty Lord Slytherin received from the Boneslicer clan seemed almost as much as what he received from the Goldtooths. It was disconcerting. Especially since he knew what he'd done to warrant it.

" If there is nothing else, shall I have you shown to the vault?"

He shook himself from his thoughts. " Yes, Clan Leader."

Some time later, he stood in front of a large ornate looking mirror, staring at the image of his long dead sister, an equally dead Gellert, and his still living brother, all standing around him and smiling happily.

Gellert looked him in the eyes and mouthed words that tore at his heart. "I forgive you, Albus."

He sighed. "Nicholas, you truly are a demon."

He ignored the other four figures, standing far off in the distance behind his destroyed family. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his special shrunk trunk, and enlarged it. The trunk sat as wide and long as he stood tall. A powerful wand-wave levitated the entire mirror, and a second wand-wave hovered it over the open trunk, down into its depths, and onto the expanded space's floor with a light thunk.

He flicked the extra large trunk closed with another wand wave and shrunk it with a single wand poke.

He turned to leave. He wasn't looking forward to setting up his own final addition to Nicholas' work. Not at all.

...

Several hours later, back in his office, Dumbledore took off his moon shaped glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"John, my boy, you simply cannot act like that in front of everyone."

John Potter sat in the large chair in front of him, eyes defiant and aflame. "You said it yourself, Headmaster. You said he's a danger."

He sighed. "Yes, but that doesn't mean you can openly attack him like that. You shouldn't attack him at all. I never meant for you to be that… antagonistic towards him." He really hadn't. Perhaps telling the other Potter twin about his brother had been a mistake. But how else was he to keep them apart?

"What about Ginny?" the boy half-shouted.

He gave a tiny shake of his ancient beard ladened head. "John, the unknown wizard or witch who's been teaching young Miss Weasley occlumency duelled both of Miss Weasley's older brothers, without a wand, and overpowered the Weasley family wards. Miss Weasley might call this person Harry, but it's not your Harry."

"But… But…"

He frowned. Something seemed off, but he wasn't sure what. "John, is there something you need to tell me?"

The young man stiffened. "No, Headmaster."

That was a very fast response. He studied the boy in front of him. The Potter heir had seemingly matured a lot over the past few months. But in other ways, the boy seemed more unstable than before. More focused? More determined? Certainly more powerful. Half the spells Miss Clearwater reported John using were fourth year spells, and both his rate of casting and duration should have been beyond him. If the wards hadn't reported him as being John Potter, he'd have suspected foul play.

But it was still troubling. Even more so because of Harry. If John was this powerful, It was likely Harry would be too.

He kept his sapphire gaze on the boy. Eventually he looked away. "Forty points from Gryffindor for initiating an unsanctioned duel and one weeks detention with Mister Filch, Mister Potter."

John nodded, stiffly.

"You may go, John. Please be more careful in the future."

John left.

He sunk a bit lower in his massive chair. Sometimes he hated his job.

...

John Potter slammed the door to the Gryffindor first year dorms behind him.

It was official. He wasn't going to get any help from anyone in power to restore the timeline, or to ensure that the proper outcome came about. Ever since he'd come back in time he'd been floating along, letting most things happen just like they had last time, with just a few changes here and there to improve his position.

But, things hadn't happened like last time, had they? Things weren't the same, and it was looking more and more like he was dealing with events that he just didn't know about.

Seeing Hermione wearing Slytherin green, hanging around the Greengrass heiress, and gliding around as though every day was the yule ball, hurt. Hurt so much. And he didn't want to admit it, but without Hermione, he wasn't as well off as he'd been even last time around. Oh, he had Susan now, who was cool in her own way, and Padma, and maybe a few others, but none of them was a replacement for the formerly bushy-haired, genius muggleborn.

He padded over to the window, drew back the curtain and surveyed the Hogwarts grounds. A faint mist hung over the open grass.

His eyes narrowed.

If he was going to do this, it was going to have to be with his power. He couldn't rely on anyone else. Not any more. Not with all the changes. That meant he didn't have any choice but to be better. He was eleven. But he had the core of a fifteen year old. That meant that when he was fifteen this time around, he'd have the core of twenty year old. And he knew he was beyond the top tier of power for his year to begin with.

Would that be good enough to fight Voldemort? It would have to be.

He clenched the curtain in his fist.

That meant he'd have to train. He'd have to get better. And he was going to start-

His stomach growled.

… right after dinner.

....

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