u/Fuckmetilldeath

*Hi! I made a fragment of this prompt i posted a few days ago.*

*I wrote it with fever so some things do not have sense, also I wrote it in spanish and then translated it (Sorry for that, my english is very basic and I don´t have the confidence to write in it).*

*I hope you enjoy it!*

*"I have to go. Behave yourselves."*

That was the last thing Tom Riddle said before leaving the room.

His elegant posture and serious expression would not be seen again until the next day.

The sound of the door closing felt like a sentence.

Tom had left him alone at dinner with his followers.

The same followers who hated him.

Harry trusted that he wasn't important enough to matter.

.

.

.

Harry's head slowly fell onto his plate.

The remains of salad smeared across his face.

Everything became blurry.

He tried to lift his head, but it was useless.

His body no longer belonged to him.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to see.

All he managed to make out was a silhouette.

.

.

.

When he managed to open his eyes again, he only knew one thing.

He felt everything.

And nothing.

At the same time.

He was stretched out on the same long table he had been eating at moments ago.

He couldn't move.

All he could do was stare at the chandelier above him and wait for something to happen.

Nothing did.

He closed his eyes again.

.

.

.

He was naked.

That was the first thing he noticed this time.

Cold traveled through his limbs.

His skin prickled as his senses slowly returned.

The first thing he recovered was hearing.

But he didn't hear what he expected.

Only animalistic growls.

And Orion's laughter.

As the noises grew louder, he recovered touch.

His hands and legs were tied down.

He was completely immobilized.

When he opened his eyes and his vision returned, the first thing he saw was his classmates.

Standing in a circle around him.

They were smiling.

Waiting for something.

Something Harry didn't know.

The first to step forward was Lestrange.

A knife in hand.

He made the first cut across Harry's right arm.

Long.

Deep.

Harry writhed from the burning pain.

None of the boys present reacted.

Harry watched in horror as Lestrange brought the blood-covered knife to his mouth and tasted it with brutal delight.

His abnormally long tongue slipped out as he licked it clean.

Then he released something that sounded like a howl.

The others began moving closer.

Slowly.

Harry swallowed.

Beginning to understand why everyone was approaching him carrying utensils.

And bestial fangs.

They were going to eat him alive.

Harry struggled with all his strength.

He tried to lift himself off the table.

Screamed for help.

But something stronger than the ropes kept him in place.

Marks began appearing across his skin.

At the same time, bites began to follow.

The boy felt himself being torn apart.

Felt cuts peeling back his skin and exposing flesh beneath.

Felt the entire room seeing his insides.

The most private and shameful parts of him.

The boy tried to distract himself.

He looked to his left.

There sat Orion Black.

Staring at him with protruding fangs and enormous claws.

Holding Harry's arm while burying his mouth into his wrist.

Into the place where life flowed.

Orion Black was leaving behind nothing but a gnawed bone.

Orion Black drank every last drop of blood that fell from Harry's wrist before moving farther up the boy's body.

He looked back up at the ceiling.

Focusing on its design.

Wood.

Probably very expensive.

Tom probably chose it.

Tom had always had excellent taste.

A growl tore him from his thoughts.

Something bit into his thigh.

Pain exploded everywhere.

He searched the room for something.

Anything.

Anything that could keep him sane.

The boy felt a spark of hope amidst the chaos of bites and viscera when he saw a frightened Abraxas Malfoy standing near his feet.

The boy's eyes were wide open.

Staring at the inside of another boy.

Harry shouted.

Begged for help.

But the blond boy ignored every plea.

With his sickly appearance, his pale smooth skin now green, he moved toward the door.

Taking what seemed to be a guard position.

Trying not to look at what was happening to Harry.

But he couldn't help it.

After spending several moments looking at Harry with pity.

With apology.

He crossed the doorway.

The same doorway Tom had crossed.

The same doorway whose lock had just clicked shut.

Indicating nobody was getting out.

Harry's only two chances of salvation had already walked through that door.

With the last shred of hope dissolved, he accepted his fate.

To die like this.

Eaten alive by a group of students.

Bites and cuts.

Bites and cuts.

Chaos.

That was all that remained.

He watched his classmates take turns tasting him.

Watched enormous tongues slide across mouths in savage satisfaction after every bite.

Watched himself disappear.

But the ending was not what he expected.

His body was almost entirely bone now.

Almost.

One thing remained.

It was Lestrange who took the initiative again.

He sat between what remained of Harry's legs.

Picked up the same knife from before.

Raised it.

Everyone began encouraging him.

Growls.

Barks.

Howls.

The hall filled with noise as Lestrange slowly lowered the knife toward the boy's chest.

The sound grew louder.

And louder.

Lestrange began the cut from Harry's throat down to his stomach.

The noise became a ringing.

With only his hands, Lestrange grabbed the edges of Harry's skin and pulled them apart.

The boy tried to lower his chin toward his chest.

What he found instead was the sight of his heart beating wildly.

As if it were trying to escape its ribcage.

He could see his heart.

Lungs.

Stomach.

Heart.

Liver.

Heart.

Ribs.

Heart.

His.

Not wanting to see anything else, the boy focused once more on the ceiling and the chandelier.

It was beautiful.

Covered in intricate details.

Ancient.

Magical.

Like everything in Hogwarts.

They tore out his heart.

That, he felt.

He felt veins and arteries ripping away from it.

Chandelier.

Chandelier.

Ceiling.

Chandelier.

He lowered his gaze.

Saw his heart in Lestrange's hands.

Held high like a trophy.

Displayed for the entire room.

Animalistic cheers erupted.

The noise returned.

The boy could only stare at his heart in the stranger's hands.

Heart.

His.

Ceiling.

Chandelier.

Heart.

Lungs.

Heart.

Liver.

Chandelier.

Heart.

A drowsiness appeared.

Perhaps the sweet rest of death.

His eyes began to close.

He didn't want to sleep.

He hated sleeping.

Nothing good ever came from sleep.

He wanted to see what they would do with his heart.

With him.

Sleep began fighting him.

His eyelids felt like doors slowly closing.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

The last thing he saw were teeth.

No.

Fangs.

Biting.

Tearing apart his heart as though it were a piece of meat.

Which it was.

He was.

A piece of food.

His eyes closed again.

*"Obliviate."*

*Hi! I made a fragment of this prompt i posted a few days ago.*

*I wrote it with fever so some things do not have sense, also I wrote it in spanish and then translated it (Sorry for that, my english is very basic and I don´t have the confidence to write in it).*

*I hope you enjoy it!*

*"I have to go. Behave yourselves."*

That was the last thing Tom Riddle said before leaving the room.

His elegant posture and serious expression would not be seen again until the next day.

The sound of the door closing felt like a sentence.

Tom had left him alone at dinner with his followers.

The same followers who hated him.

Harry trusted that he wasn't important enough to matter.

.

.

.

Harry's head slowly fell onto his plate.

The remains of salad smeared across his face.

Everything became blurry.

He tried to lift his head, but it was useless.

His body no longer belonged to him.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to see.

All he managed to make out was a silhouette.

.

.

.

When he managed to open his eyes again, he only knew one thing.

He felt everything.

And nothing.

At the same time.

He was stretched out on the same long table he had been eating at moments ago.

He couldn't move.

All he could do was stare at the chandelier above him and wait for something to happen.

Nothing did.

He closed his eyes again.

.

.

.

He was naked.

That was the first thing he noticed this time.

Cold traveled through his limbs.

His skin prickled as his senses slowly returned.

The first thing he recovered was hearing.

But he didn't hear what he expected.

Only animalistic growls.

And Orion's laughter.

As the noises grew louder, he recovered touch.

His hands and legs were tied down.

He was completely immobilized.

When he opened his eyes and his vision returned, the first thing he saw was his classmates.

Standing in a circle around him.

They were smiling.

Waiting for something.

Something Harry didn't know.

The first to step forward was Lestrange.

A knife in hand.

He made the first cut across Harry's right arm.

Long.

Deep.

Harry writhed from the burning pain.

None of the boys present reacted.

Harry watched in horror as Lestrange brought the blood-covered knife to his mouth and tasted it with brutal delight.

His abnormally long tongue slipped out as he licked it clean.

Then he released something that sounded like a howl.

The others began moving closer.

Slowly.

Harry swallowed.

Beginning to understand why everyone was approaching him carrying utensils.

And bestial fangs.

They were going to eat him alive.

Harry struggled with all his strength.

He tried to lift himself off the table.

Screamed for help.

But something stronger than the ropes kept him in place.

Marks began appearing across his skin.

At the same time, bites began to follow.

The boy felt himself being torn apart.

Felt cuts peeling back his skin and exposing flesh beneath.

Felt the entire room seeing his insides.

The most private and shameful parts of him.

The boy tried to distract himself.

He looked to his left.

There sat Orion Black.

Staring at him with protruding fangs and enormous claws.

Holding Harry's arm while burying his mouth into his wrist.

Into the place where life flowed.

Orion Black was leaving behind nothing but a gnawed bone.

Orion Black drank every last drop of blood that fell from Harry's wrist before moving farther up the boy's body.

He looked back up at the ceiling.

Focusing on its design.

Wood.

Probably very expensive.

Tom probably chose it.

Tom had always had excellent taste.

A growl tore him from his thoughts.

Something bit into his thigh.

Pain exploded everywhere.

He searched the room for something.

Anything.

Anything that could keep him sane.

The boy felt a spark of hope amidst the chaos of bites and viscera when he saw a frightened Abraxas Malfoy standing near his feet.

The boy's eyes were wide open.

Staring at the inside of another boy.

Harry shouted.

Begged for help.

But the blond boy ignored every plea.

With his sickly appearance, his pale smooth skin now green, he moved toward the door.

Taking what seemed to be a guard position.

Trying not to look at what was happening to Harry.

But he couldn't help it.

After spending several moments looking at Harry with pity.

With apology.

He crossed the doorway.

The same doorway Tom had crossed.

The same doorway whose lock had just clicked shut.

Indicating nobody was getting out.

Harry's only two chances of salvation had already walked through that door.

With the last shred of hope dissolved, he accepted his fate.

To die like this.

Eaten alive by a group of students.

Bites and cuts.

Bites and cuts.

Chaos.

That was all that remained.

He watched his classmates take turns tasting him.

Watched enormous tongues slide across mouths in savage satisfaction after every bite.

Watched himself disappear.

But the ending was not what he expected.

His body was almost entirely bone now.

Almost.

One thing remained.

It was Lestrange who took the initiative again.

He sat between what remained of Harry's legs.

Picked up the same knife from before.

Raised it.

Everyone began encouraging him.

Growls.

Barks.

Howls.

The hall filled with noise as Lestrange slowly lowered the knife toward the boy's chest.

The sound grew louder.

And louder.

Lestrange began the cut from Harry's throat down to his stomach.

The noise became a ringing.

With only his hands, Lestrange grabbed the edges of Harry's skin and pulled them apart.

The boy tried to lower his chin toward his chest.

What he found instead was the sight of his heart beating wildly.

As if it were trying to escape its ribcage.

He could see his heart.

Lungs.

Stomach.

Heart.

Liver.

Heart.

Ribs.

Heart.

His.

Not wanting to see anything else, the boy focused once more on the ceiling and the chandelier.

It was beautiful.

Covered in intricate details.

Ancient.

Magical.

Like everything in Hogwarts.

They tore out his heart.

That, he felt.

He felt veins and arteries ripping away from it.

Chandelier.

Chandelier.

Ceiling.

Chandelier.

He lowered his gaze.

Saw his heart in Lestrange's hands.

Held high like a trophy.

Displayed for the entire room.

Animalistic cheers erupted.

The noise returned.

The boy could only stare at his heart in the stranger's hands.

Heart.

His.

Ceiling.

Chandelier.

Heart.

Lungs.

Heart.

Liver.

Chandelier.

Heart.

A drowsiness appeared.

Perhaps the sweet rest of death.

His eyes began to close.

He didn't want to sleep.

He hated sleeping.

Nothing good ever came from sleep.

He wanted to see what they would do with his heart.

With him.

Sleep began fighting him.

His eyelids felt like doors slowly closing.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

The last thing he saw were teeth.

No.

Fangs.

Biting.

Tearing apart his heart as though it were a piece of meat.

Which it was.

He was.

A piece of food.

His eyes closed again.

*"Obliviate."*

During the summer before sixth year, Harry isolates himself in Grimmauld Place after Sirius’ death. He barely leaves the house. He spends his days reading through the Black family’s library, searching for anything that might help him defeat Voldemort before the war inevitably reaches Hogwarts.

Instead, he becomes obsessed with something completely different.

As a child, one of the very few things Harry genuinely loved was modeling clay. Once, during an art lesson in primary school, he was allowed to shape something with his own hands. It was warm, soft, forgiving. He still remembers how satisfying it felt to create something from nothing. The Dursleys threw it away the moment he brought it home, but he never forgot it.

So Kreacher is understandably confused when Harry asks him to buy an absurd amount of clay.

A few awkward conversations and several suspicious requests for books on souls, Dark Magic and ancient Black rituals later, Harry has built a life-sized statue.

Of himself.

Well… a better version of himself.

Slightly taller.
No scars.
Straighter posture.
A face that actually smiles.

Harry tells himself it’s only because it’ll be easier to explain after a summer growth spurt.

It definitely has nothing to do with wishing he looked like someone worth saving.

His original plan is simple: create a magical duplicate capable of attending Hogwarts in his place while he stays behind searching for a real way to kill Voldemort.

Somehow it works.

Whether Harry unknowingly invents an entirely new branch of soul magic, accidentally creates something similar to a Horcrux, or simply performs a ritual nobody has attempted in centuries is up to the author.

The important part is that the clay breathes.

For two months, Harry teaches his copy everything.
How to answer questions.

How to act around Ron and Hermione.
How to survive classes.
How to fake being Harry Potter.

The problem?

Harry only teaches him the good parts.

He removes every flaw he hates about himself.

No trauma.
No nightmares.
No anger.
No guilt.
No paranoia.
No self-loathing.
No crippling instinct to sacrifice himself every five minutes.

The result is an incredibly kind, optimistic, emotionally healthy young man.

He’s also spectacularly naive.

Harry sends him to Hogwarts with one instruction:

“If Voldemort shows up, don’t do anything stupid. Tell me, and I’ll deal with it.”

For weeks, everything goes perfectly.

Ron comments that Harry seems happier.
Hermione says he’s finally sleeping enough.
Even Snape looks mildly confused.

Nobody realizes they’re talking to someone who has only existed for two months.

Nobody…

Except Voldemort.

When the fake Harry is eventually captured, Voldemort immediately realizes something is wrong.

This isn’t the boy he remembers.

This Harry is polite.
Hopeful.
He calls him “sir.”
He doesn’t argue.
He doesn’t glare.
He doesn’t bite back with sarcastic remarks.
He’s… nice.

And Voldemort hates it.

“Who are you?”
The clone, completely honest, simply smiles.
“I’m Harry Potter.”
“No.”
For the first time in years, Voldemort sounds genuinely offended.
“No, you’re not.”

Meanwhile, the real Harry receives the emergency message from his duplicate, sighs dramatically, grabs his wand, and mutters:

“For Merlin’s sake. I actually have to rescue myself.”

By the time he crashes into the manor to save his own clone, Voldemort is staring between the two identical boys with growing fascination.

Everyone else sees two Harry Potters.

Voldemort sees an imitation… and the original immediately.

Not because of appearance.
Not because of magic.

But because the real Harry Potter is still the only boy in Britain who walks into a room already looking for the nearest exit.

I did this listening to “Intruso” of the band “Enjambre” I hope someone likes it.

Seventeen-year-old Harry Potter has spent his entire life surviving.

Raised by abusive relatives, later thrown into an orphanage, Harry learned early that honesty doesn’t put food on the table. He steals. He lies. He scams people. He’s clever, shameless, and surprisingly talented at one specific thing:

Crying.

Not normal crying, either.

Professional crying.

In his deeply religious corner of the countryside, wealthy families hire mourners to attend funerals and weep for the deceased, believing that enough tears will help the soul ascend to Heaven.

Harry thinks the whole tradition is ridiculous.

Still, people pay, and Harry needs to eat.

Meanwhile, twenty-one-year-old Tom Riddle has just inherited the Riddle estate after the sudden deaths of his father and grandparents.

The new Lord Riddle appears devastated.

He isn’t.

Tom murdered them.

He’s intelligent, composed, utterly irreligious, and currently far more concerned with maintaining appearances than mourning.

So he hires a professional mourner.

He expects tears.

What he gets is Harry Potter.

Harry cries so beautifully during the funeral that half the village starts sobbing with him.

Tom is horrified.

Harry is suspicious.

Because nobody becomes Lord Riddle overnight. Nobody suddenly acts like the grieving son after barely being seen around the manor for years.

And Harry has survived too long by ignoring his instincts.

He starts snooping.

And unfortunately for Tom, Harry Potter is very good at finding things.

After the funeral, Harry confronts him.

“I know what you did.”

Tom assumes he’s about to be exposed.

Instead, Harry cheerfully blackmails him.

Not for money.

Not for power.

He just wants a place to stay.

So now Tom has a problem.

Because Harry Potter refuses to leave.

He eats his food.

Sleeps in his house.

Wanders into rooms he shouldn’t.

Talks too much.

Steals silverware.

Keeps trying to befriend the servants.

And worst of all, Tom can’t kill him.

Because Harry knows.

The arrangement should be temporary.

Except weeks become months.

Tom slowly becomes accustomed to Harry’s constant presence.

Harry slowly realizes that Tom isn’t just a murderer.

He’s deeply damaged.

Raised in an orphanage, Tom learned that cruelty was survival. The colder and harder he became, the safer he was.

Harry, on the other hand, survived by becoming a performer. By lying, stealing, crying on command, and making himself useful.

They are opposites.

And somehow, they understand each other far too well.

Things become even more complicated when the local police begin investigating the deaths of the Riddles.

Perhaps Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger are the investigators.

Perhaps they’re brilliant.

Perhaps they’re incredibly annoying.

And perhaps they keep getting dangerously close to the truth.

So Harry, to everyone’s horror, starts helping Tom create alibis.

Because apparently blackmailing a murderer and accidentally catching feelings wasn’t enough.

Bodies continue appearing.

The investigation grows darker.

The village grows suspicious.

And somewhere between covering up crimes, arguing over table manners, and surviving increasingly ridiculous disasters, Harry Potter realizes that living with Tom Riddle might have been the worst decision of his life.

Tom Riddle, unfortunately, has already decided that Harry belongs in the manor.

And Tom Riddle has never been particularly good at letting things go.

(Not the most evil. Just the biggest manchildren.)

1. Jaekyung (Jinx)
The undisputed CEO of emotional constipation. The man has the communication skills of a brick wall. Every problem could be solved by a five-minute conversation, but instead he chooses violence and being obnoxious.

2. Wookyung (Sadistic Beauty Side Story)
Nobody wants to be your friend, so your solution is kidnapping someone? And then you wonder why he hates you? Incredible levels of “surprised face”. A grown man with the emotional maturity of a lonely middle schooler.

3. The top of The Warehouse
Spent TEN YEARS obsessed over a misunderstanding from high school. Brother, your brain is fully developed. Please get a hobby. Watching his revenge plan blow up in his own face was almost painful.

4. Ilay Riegrow (PASSION)
Rich, handsome, privileged and somehow still behaves like a giant toddler. Sir, have you considered talking instead of killing people?

5. Cyrus (Lost in the Cloud)
I know he’s seventeen, but dear God. Everything is drama. Everything is suffering. Everything is “nobody understands me” and doing everthing wrong so he can complain more.

6.Heeseo (A Tree Without Roots)
The biggest spoiled brat I’ve ever seen. Instead of directing his anger toward the people who actually ruined his life, he dedicates himself to tormenting the one guy who gave him money and shelter. Priorities? Never heard of them.

7. Caesar (Roses and Champagne)
Have you considered saying “Please don’t leave me” instead of shooting your boyfriend three times? Revolutionary concept, I know.

8. The top from Reverse Thinking
Your revenge is understandable. Your attempts at being funny are not. Stop acting like you’re the main character in a sitcom while committing war crimes.

9. Taeju (Low Tide in Twilight)
A spoiled rich kid who somehow became involved in prostitution despite having a loving family. He’s annoying, but at least he’s occasionally funny.

10. Zhenya (Codename: Anastasia)
Every joke feels like he’s desperately trying to convince everyone that he’s cool. You’re not funny, sir. You’re just a criminal with good looks.

11. Seungho (Painter of the Night)
Absolutely unbearable in the first half. Fortunately, character development exists, otherwise he would’ve ranked much higher.

Anyways I love lost of them 🫶🏼💕

This is not a ranking of which series I like the most. It’s a ranking of the tops themselves, taking into account what they did, how long the abuse lasted, psychological damage, manipulation, and whether they genuinely “loved” the bottom or simply treated them as objects.

12. Taeju (Low Tide in Twilight)
Probably the least extreme person here. He did horrible things, but genuinely loved Euihyun and eventually changed. Compared to everyone else, he’s surprisingly tame.

11. Ilay Riegrow (Passion)
Insane, immature and dangerous, but most of his destruction affects everyone around him rather than Taeuui specifically. Compared to the monsters above him, he’s surprisingly low.

10. Heeseo (Tree Without Roots)
Started off terribly, but most of the damage happened early on. By black flag standards, he’s practically harmless.

9. Dohyun (Warehouse)
His plan completely backfired. He spent more time destroying himself than successfully destroying Jeongwoo. Still insane, though.

8. Shin Geon (Slammer Dogs)
Violent, obsessive and manipulative, but the protagonist gives as much chaos as he receives. Their relationship is toxic, but nowhere near the monsters above.

7. Caesar (Roses and Champagne)
A giant man-child with anger issues. Absolutely horrible, but the story eventually turns into something resembling love, and Lee Won and Caesar genuinely end up loving each other.

6. Zhenya (Codename: Anastasia)
Codename: Anastasia isn’t even finished yet, and somehow Zhenya already feels scarier than Caesar. His violence feels much more visceral, and Taekjoo’s suffering hit me harder.

5. Cha Wookyung (Sadistic Beauty Side Story B)
The relationship itself was relatively short, but the obsession, violence and humiliation were insane. Still, out of everyone left, Wookyung is probably the one who genuinely “loved” his victim the most.

4. Sangwoo (Killing Stalking)
Yes, he’s crazy. Yes, he’s a serial killer. But the actual timeline isn’t that long, and in his own twisted way, he sort of “liked” Bum. In another universe, without all their trauma, I genuinely think they would’ve fallen in love.

3. Lee Rider (Missing Love)
Ten years.
Kidnapping, prostitution, violence, dependency, manipulation… ten whole years. The only reason he’s not higher its because Missing Love somehow ends relatively well.

2. Park Juyeon (Reverse Thinking)
And the series has barely begun.
Constant rape, confinement, humiliation, forcing the protagonist to live like an animal, paying people to assault him, and later forcing him into even more horrifying situations.
The worst part?
The protagonist doesn’t even remember why he’s being punished.

1. Seo Haeyoung (No Zero Sum)
For me, the scariest people aren’t the craziest ones.
They’re the functional ones.
He wasn’t impulsive.
He wasn’t out of control.
He spent years isolating the protagonist emotionally before the visible abuse even started.
By the time things became obvious, the damage had already been done.
And that’s what makes him in my opinion the worst.

Hi! I made a fragment of this prompt i posted a few days ago.

I wrote it with fever so some things do not have sense, also I wrote it in spanish and then translated it (Sorry for that, my english is very basic and I don´t have the confidence to write in it).

I hope you enjoy it!

"I have to go. Behave yourselves."

That was the last thing Tom Riddle said before leaving the room.

His elegant posture and serious expression would not be seen again until the next day.

The sound of the door closing felt like a sentence.

Tom had left him alone at dinner with his followers.

The same followers who hated him.

Harry trusted that he wasn't important enough to matter.

.

.

.

Harry's head slowly fell onto his plate.

The remains of salad smeared across his face.

Everything became blurry.

He tried to lift his head, but it was useless.

His body no longer belonged to him.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to see.

All he managed to make out was a silhouette.

.

.

.

When he managed to open his eyes again, he only knew one thing.

He felt everything.

And nothing.

At the same time.

He was stretched out on the same long table he had been eating at moments ago.

He couldn't move.

All he could do was stare at the chandelier above him and wait for something to happen.

Nothing did.

He closed his eyes again.

.

.

.

He was naked.

That was the first thing he noticed this time.

Cold traveled through his limbs.

His skin prickled as his senses slowly returned.

The first thing he recovered was hearing.

But he didn't hear what he expected.

Only animalistic growls.

And Orion's laughter.

As the noises grew louder, he recovered touch.

His hands and legs were tied down.

He was completely immobilized.

When he opened his eyes and his vision returned, the first thing he saw was his classmates.

Standing in a circle around him.

They were smiling.

Waiting for something.

Something Harry didn't know.

The first to step forward was Lestrange.

A knife in hand.

He made the first cut across Harry's right arm.

Long.

Deep.

Harry writhed from the burning pain.

None of the boys present reacted.

Harry watched in horror as Lestrange brought the blood-covered knife to his mouth and tasted it with brutal delight.

His abnormally long tongue slipped out as he licked it clean.

Then he released something that sounded like a howl.

The others began moving closer.

Slowly.

Harry swallowed.

Beginning to understand why everyone was approaching him carrying utensils.

And bestial fangs.

They were going to eat him alive.

Harry struggled with all his strength.

He tried to lift himself off the table.

Screamed for help.

But something stronger than the ropes kept him in place.

Marks began appearing across his skin.

At the same time, bites began to follow.

The boy felt himself being torn apart.

Felt cuts peeling back his skin and exposing flesh beneath.

Felt the entire room seeing his insides.

The most private and shameful parts of him.

The boy tried to distract himself.

He looked to his left.

There sat Orion Black.

Staring at him with protruding fangs and enormous claws.

Holding Harry's arm while burying his mouth into his wrist.

Into the place where life flowed.

Orion Black was leaving behind nothing but a gnawed bone.

Orion Black drank every last drop of blood that fell from Harry's wrist before moving farther up the boy's body.

He looked back up at the ceiling.

Focusing on its design.

Wood.

Probably very expensive.

Tom probably chose it.

Tom had always had excellent taste.

A growl tore him from his thoughts.

Something bit into his thigh.

Pain exploded everywhere.

He searched the room for something.

Anything.

Anything that could keep him sane.

The boy felt a spark of hope amidst the chaos of bites and viscera when he saw a frightened Abraxas Malfoy standing near his feet.

The boy's eyes were wide open.

Staring at the inside of another boy.

Harry shouted.

Begged for help.

But the blond boy ignored every plea.

With his sickly appearance, his pale smooth skin now green, he moved toward the door.

Taking what seemed to be a guard position.

Trying not to look at what was happening to Harry.

But he couldn't help it.

After spending several moments looking at Harry with pity.

With apology.

He crossed the doorway.

The same doorway Tom had crossed.

The same doorway whose lock had just clicked shut.

Indicating nobody was getting out.

Harry's only two chances of salvation had already walked through that door.

With the last shred of hope dissolved, he accepted his fate.

To die like this.

Eaten alive by a group of students.

Bites and cuts.

Bites and cuts.

Chaos.

That was all that remained.

He watched his classmates take turns tasting him.

Watched enormous tongues slide across mouths in savage satisfaction after every bite.

Watched himself disappear.

But the ending was not what he expected.

His body was almost entirely bone now.

Almost.

One thing remained.

It was Lestrange who took the initiative again.

He sat between what remained of Harry's legs.

Picked up the same knife from before.

Raised it.

Everyone began encouraging him.

Growls.

Barks.

Howls.

The hall filled with noise as Lestrange slowly lowered the knife toward the boy's chest.

The sound grew louder.

And louder.

Lestrange began the cut from Harry's throat down to his stomach.

The noise became a ringing.

With only his hands, Lestrange grabbed the edges of Harry's skin and pulled them apart.

The boy tried to lower his chin toward his chest.

What he found instead was the sight of his heart beating wildly.

As if it were trying to escape its ribcage.

He could see his heart.

Lungs.

Stomach.

Heart.

Liver.

Heart.

Ribs.

Heart.

His.

Not wanting to see anything else, the boy focused once more on the ceiling and the chandelier.

It was beautiful.

Covered in intricate details.

Ancient.

Magical.

Like everything in Hogwarts.

They tore out his heart.

That, he felt.

He felt veins and arteries ripping away from it.

Chandelier.

Chandelier.

Ceiling.

Chandelier.

He lowered his gaze.

Saw his heart in Lestrange's hands.

Held high like a trophy.

Displayed for the entire room.

Animalistic cheers erupted.

The noise returned.

The boy could only stare at his heart in the stranger's hands.

Heart.

His.

Ceiling.

Chandelier.

Heart.

Lungs.

Heart.

Liver.

Chandelier.

Heart.

A drowsiness appeared.

Perhaps the sweet rest of death.

His eyes began to close.

He didn't want to sleep.

He hated sleeping.

Nothing good ever came from sleep.

He wanted to see what they would do with his heart.

With him.

Sleep began fighting him.

His eyelids felt like doors slowly closing.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

The last thing he saw were teeth.

No.

Fangs.

Biting.

Tearing apart his heart as though it were a piece of meat.

Which it was.

He was.

A piece of food.

His eyes closed again.

"Obliviate."

I think this is my cutest and fluffiest prompt yet.
Hope you enjoy it!

1943.

Sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle performs a ritual.

The goal is simple: see the future.

The ritual explodes in his face.

Instead of receiving a vision, Tom wakes up over fifty years in the future.

And something is terribly wrong.

There is no magic.

No Hogwarts.
No Ministry.
No Diagon Alley.
Nothing.

Tom’s wand doesn’t work.

His spells fail.

Nobody has heard of magic.

The first person he meets is a strange teenage boy living in a tiny shack behind his relatives’ house.

His name is Harry Potter.

Harry immediately assumes Tom is some weird goth kid with a theatrical obsession and a very convincing prop wand.

Tom immediately assumes Harry is an idiot.

Neither of them understands what is happening.

The problem is that Harry seems to be the only person willing to help him.

As Tom investigates, he slowly uncovers the truth.
During the First Wizarding War, an older version of himself attempted a massive ritual designed to compensate for the damage caused by his Horcruxes.

The ritual gathered magical power from the entire British magical population and concentrated it into a single person.

Voldemort.

For a brief period, he became unimaginably powerful.

Then Godric’s Hollow happened.
Voldemort died.

And most of Britain’s magic disappeared with him.
The survivors buried the truth.

The magical population was already small.

After the war, most surviving families integrated into the Muggle world and abandoned magical society altogether.

Their children grew up never knowing magic had existed.

Fifteen years later, almost nobody remembers.
Tom arrives in a future where he technically won.
And in doing so, destroyed everything he wanted to rule.

Meanwhile, Harry’s life is a mess.
•He lives with abusive relatives.
•He has no plans for the future.
•No money.
•No opportunities.
•No idea why strange things sometimes happen around him.
•He doesn’t know he’s magical.
•He doesn’t know what a Horcrux is.
•He doesn’t know why Tom keeps staring at him like he’s some kind of puzzle.

Tom becomes obsessed with finding what remains of the magical world.

•Former pureblood families.
•Old Ministry records.
•Abandoned magical locations.
•Azkaban.
•Anyone who might remember.

Harry gets dragged into the search despite having absolutely no desire to participate.

As the investigation progresses, they discover that traces of magic still exist.

Tiny fragments.

Enough to suggest it was never truly gone.
And Harry seems connected to it somehow.

Things I’d love to see related to the story:

•Tom experiencing late 1990s technology for the first time.
•Tom becoming increasingly horrified by how completely forgotten he is.
•Harry introducing Tom to ordinary life.
•Ex-magical families hiding their past from their children
•Former Death Eater families trying desperately to appear normal.
•Draco Malfoy having absolutely no idea who Lucius used to be.
•Tom attempting to rebuild magical knowledge from scraps.
•Harry slowly realizing he is not as ordinary as he thought.
•Horcrux-related mysteries.
•Old survivors recognizing Tom and having collective breakdowns.
•The growing realization that Harry may be one of the last people in Britain capable of truly bringing magic back.

Additional things I’d love to see related to their relationship:

•Tom being forced to attend a normal secondary school and absolutely hating every second of it.
•Harry introducing Tom to things like television, CDs, video games and computers.
•Tom spending hours on early internet forums convinced that somebody, somewhere, must remember magic.
•Harry letting Tom stay in his hidden shack because there is literally nowhere else for him to go.
•Tom discovering how badly the Dursleys treat Harry and reacting with increasing horror.
•Tom repeatedly asking Harry why he doesn’t just leave, only to realize Harry has nowhere to go.
•Harry casually admitting that his aunt made sure nobody in the area would hire him.
•Tom deciding that if Harry can’t get a job, he’ll get one himself
•Against all odds, Tom succeeding almost immediately because he is manipulative, charming, intelligent, and terrifyingly good at convincing adults to trust him.
•Harry being deeply offended that Tom finds employment within days while he’s been trying for years.
•Tom using his first paycheck to buy things for the shack and acting as if it’s completely logical.
•Harry slowly realizing that Tom keeps coming back.
•Tom slowly realizing that Harry is the first person who has ever treated him like an ordinary teenager.
I especially love the idea that neither of them falls in love immediately.

At first, they’re just two lonely boys trying to survive.

One grew up in an orphanage during the war.

The other grew up unwanted in a cupboard.

Neither of them knows how to be cared for.

Which makes every small act of kindness feel strangely significant.

The vibe I’m imagining is part mystery, part alternate history, part coming-of-age story.

Not a Voldemort Wins AU.

Not a No Magic AU.

A world where Voldemort won so completely that magic itself disappeared.

And now sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle has to live inside the consequences.

I genuinely do not know if anyone would want to write this because this is less “romance” and more psychological deterioration with Tomarry orbiting each other like two terminal diseases.

This is not really horror-horror. It’s more psychological horror/tragic addiction/body horror. Hurt/no comfort. Metaphorical. Very interpretative. Very visual. The kind of story where half the narrative is the atmosphere and the reader slowly realizing that something is deeply, deeply wrong.

Basically:

During 5th year, Harry accidentally finds an old obscure potion book in a dark magic shop. Not a cursed artifact. Not some grand legendary tome. Just an old academic-looking book about magical pain management and nerve dulling. Experimental potions. Medical theory. Strange side effects.

And Harry, being 15 years old, traumatized, sleep deprived, isolated, physically abused by Umbridge, mentally connected to Voldemort, and completely unsupported, decides to try one of the drafts.

The potion doesn’t erase emotions at first.

It just suppresses physical pain.

So after one of Umbridge’s blood quill detentions, Harry drinks it for the first time and realizes:

The cuts don’t hurt anymore.

And for the first time in months, he feels relief.

That’s the beginning.

At first it genuinely helps him. He becomes calmer. Sleeps more. Stops snapping at people. Stops reacting so violently. Everyone around him thinks he’s finally doing better despite everything happening to him.

Meanwhile Voldemort, completely separately, finds another old text. Some insane fragmented manuscript about soul restoration through magical consumption. The theory is basically that consuming another magical being lets you absorb fragments of their soul/core and stabilize your own.

The book is probably bullshit.

But Voldemort is desperate enough to believe it.
So now both of them have found “solutions.”

Harry begins slowly anesthetizing himself from pain.
Voldemort begins consuming people trying to repair his ruined soul.

At first Voldemort starts with muggles. Then weak magical people. Then eventually his own followers because stronger magic gives stronger effects.

And at first Harry only uses the potion for Umbridge’s detentions.

Then for headaches.

Then for sleep.

Then for Quidditch injuries.

Then for panic attacks.

Then for everything.

The important thing is that neither of them realize immediately that they’re destroying themselves.

Harry doesn’t understand that his problem was
never purely physical pain. It was emotional suffering. Trauma. Fear. Isolation. So the more he abuses the potion, the less connected he becomes to EVERYTHING.

Pain.
Fear.
Embarrassment.
Love.
Hunger.
Exhaustion.
Himself.

And Voldemort doesn’t realize he’s becoming less human every time he consumes someone.
I imagine Voldemort already starting as snake-faced, but progressively becoming worse in increasingly inhuman ways:

colder skin
elongated skull
redder eyes
jaw changing shape
longer tongue
scales spreading
coagulation problems
feet changing
eventually growing a tail
eventually becoming unable to properly speak English anymore

Until Parseltongue is the only language he can naturally speak.

And Harry is the only person left who can fully understand him.

Not because they’re close.

But because both of them are becoming detached from humanity in different ways.

One by feeling too much hunger.

One by feeling nothing at all.

The thing I REALLY want in this fic is that they barely interact physically through most of the story.
Instead, they begin “seeing” each other during moments of psychological collapse.

Not dreams exactly.

More like metaphorical/ghostly apparitions.

Harry looking into a mirror and seeing Voldemort standing behind him.

Voldemort washing blood off his hands and seeing Harry sitting silently across the room.

Harry floating half-conscious after overdosing on the potion while “Climbing Up The Walls” (I know im obssesed with this song) plays somewhere in the background and Voldemort appearing at the edge of the room like a hallucination.

Neither of them know if these visions are:
magic

Horcrux connection

psychosis

obsession

destiny

guilt

or if they’re even real at all

But they become dependent on these appearances.
Because the other person becomes the only thing that understands what they are turning into.

Harry’s deterioration would be gradual and ugly, not romanticized.

One of the first major breaking points is after a particularly bad Umbridge detention where he drinks far too much of the potion because the blood quill cut too deep and he panics.

He overdoses.

Ron finds him floating half-conscious on the dormitory floor, drooling, blood on his hands, completely unable to speak properly.

Everyone assumes Harry is finally recovering mentally because he becomes quieter and less reactive.

In reality, he’s disappearing.

Eventually he stops reacting correctly to injuries.
Stops sleeping properly.
Stops recognizing hunger.
Stops feeling fear.
Stops remembering things.

There’s one scene I can’t get out of my head where he literally wets himself during class because he can no longer physically register bodily signals correctly and everyone finally realizes that something is very, very wrong with him. (He peed in the middle of the class)

And Harry just… doesn’t care.

Not because he’s brave.

Because he genuinely cannot feel humiliation anymore.

Another important scene is Harry staring into a mirror and realizing he no longer recognizes the person looking back at him.

And instead of smashing the mirror with his fist, he headbutts it hard enough to crack it because the reflection feels fundamentally wrong to him.

Meanwhile Voldemort’s followers begin becoming terrified of him.

Not in the usual “Dark Lord” way.

In the “this thing is no longer human” way.

I especially want Bellatrix, of all people, slowly realizing:

“Oh my God. He’s actually insane.”

Like even SHE becomes disturbed.

By the end Voldemort can barely communicate with anyone except Harry.

And Harry is so emotionally numbed by this point that he no longer looks at Voldemort with fear or disgust.

Which completely obsesses Voldemort.

Because Harry becomes the only person left who sees him without horror.

The final thing I really want is that all of their “interactions” throughout the fic were never physically real.

They never actually spoke.
Never actually touched.

Never truly stood in the same room together.
Only the hallucinations/visions did.

Their REAL first interaction happens at the very end.
After Hogwarts/the Order finally realize Harry is severely addicted and try to separate him from the potion completely.

Harry panics.

Because without the potion he has to feel everything again.

So instead of letting them help him, he runs.
Straight to Voldemort.

And Voldemort, by this point almost completely monstrous and barely verbal, is starving constantly.
And Harry basically says something along the lines of:

“I can’t feel anything anymore. Make me feel something.”

And Voldemort consumes him.

Not violently in an action scene way.
Not romantically.
Not sexually.
Just horribly.
Quietly.

Like both of them have finally reached the logical conclusion of what they were becoming the entire story.

And the worst part is that Harry barely reacts because he’s so emotionally and physically numb by that point that he can’t even process his own destruction properly anymore.

I really want the ending to feel less like romance
and more like mutual ruin.

Like they became each other’s final stage.

This is another messy AU idea I can’t stop thinking about.

We start in a universe where Tom Riddle and Harry Potter are already entangled in a very unstable relationship. It’s not healthy, not stable, but it exists.

One night, Tom kills Harry.

Not this Harry.

His Harry.

And immediately hides the body.

Except something goes wrong.

Because right after it happens, another Harry appears.

Same face. Same name. Same presence.

But completely wrong.

This Harry is from a different universe.

He doesn’t understand where he is, and the first thing he sees is blood on the floor and Tom acting like he’s just lost something random.

Tom realizes it immediately:
this is not his Harry.

And instead of panicking, something worse happens.

He becomes fascinated.

Because this Harry:
- can use magic in ways that don’t exist in Tom’s world
- doesn’t know what’s going on
- and is alive when he shouldn’t be

Harry, on the other hand, thinks he’s in a magical crisis situation.

He assumes:
- Horcrux-related chaos
- time anomaly
- Voldemort involvement

But instead, he lands in something even stranger:

A version of reality where:
- Sirius and Remus are alive
- and Harry apparently has a “life” he doesn’t remember living
- there is no magic at all

Including a relationship with Tom.

According to everyone else, they’ve been together for years.

Harry has no memory of this.

Tom tells him he “didn’t kill him.”

That someone else did.

That Harry should stay.

That they can figure this out together.

And Harry, confused, injured, displaced, starts to believe him.

Slowly.

Dangerously.

They start trying to solve Harry’s murder

Meanwhile, Tom is constantly trying to understand him.

And constantly trying to kill him.

Not in a dramatic villain way.

More like:
- testing limits
- checking reactions
- studying what this Harry can survive
- and sometimes acting on impulse

Harry doesn’t notice most of it.

Or refuses to interpret it that way.

Because in his mind:
Tom is the only person who seems to understand what’s happening.

The problem is:

Tom starts to care.

But he also cannot stop trying to recreate control over a situation that already collapsed.

And Harry starts to realize something is wrong… but every answer he gets from Tom feels half true.

Over time:
- Harry tries to adapt to this universe
- Tom tries to keep him there
- both of them slowly build something that looks like trust
- while built on a completely rotten foundation

I don’t know how this ends.

Either:
- Harry realizes Tom was never safe and everything collapses
- or Tom finally succeeds in killing Harry without meaning to and loses both versions of him
- or they get stuck in a loop where neither universe can fully “claim” Harry anymore

If anyone wants to write it, feel free.

This is another weird half-dream idea I had and I genuinely don’t know if it works, but I can’t stop thinking about it.

So we’re at the end of canon. Voldemort is about to kill Harry.

He succeeds.

Harry dies.

Except he doesn’t.

Instead, everything freezes.

The entire world stops moving except Harry and Voldemort.

No spells work. No movement. No sound. Just absolute stillness.

And then something else appears.

Not Dumbledore. Not magic.

Something colder.

A presence that calls itself Death.

And it basically says:

The timeline is broken.

Something happened that prevents the future from continuing normally.

So it gives them a choice:

> Fix it. Or stay trapped in this frozen moment forever.

And then it sends them back into the past.

Harry and Voldemort are forced to work together (very reluctantly) to figure out what caused reality to “fail”.

They hate each other. Constantly argue. Blame each other for everything.

- “It’s your fault for chasing immortality.”
- “It’s your fault for killing things that shouldn’t die.”

But they’re stuck together, so they start jumping through time trying to find where the timeline broke.

They end up everywhere:
- Hogwarts eras
- Dumbledore and Grindelwald’s timeline
- random historical magical incidents
- moments where things almost changed but didn’t

It becomes this chaotic, Gravity Falls-style time travel mess where they’re basically trying to debug reality.

Eventually, they discover the truth:

Harry is (or was) a Horcrux.

But something is wrong.

The Horcrux doesn’t behave like it should.

And then it hits them:

Harry stopped being a Horcrux years ago.

The moment it happened was during his 5th year.

A suicide attempt he doesn’t remember properly.

Not because it didn’t happen.

But because his mind buried it so deep it effectively erased it from his conscious memory.

And that moment is what “broke” the timeline.

Because Harry dying, even briefly, created a contradiction the universe never resolved.

So the real core of the story becomes:

They have to go back to 5th year Harry.

And stop him from doing it.

Harry has to confront a version of himself he doesn’t even remember existing.

And Voldemort has to confront the fact that the “immortal object” he built his entire system around… was unstable from the beginning.

In the end, once they fix it, time resumes.

And somehow, against all logic, they survive it.

And they don’t immediately destroy each other.

They just… exist.

Together.

Trying to pretend the universe didn’t almost delete itself.

I don’t even know what this is. It’s part time travel AU, part existential horror, part Tomarry enemies-to-something.

If anyone wants to write it, feel free, because my brain clearly doesn’t know what to do with it anymore.

I don’t even know if this is a full AU or just a recurring nightmare I keep expanding, but here we go.

So we’re in a Hogwarts-era AU where Tom Riddle and Harry Potter grow up together in Wool’s Orphanage. Tom is the golden prodigy Slytherin everyone pays attention to. Harry is… just there. Half-blood, overlooked, unremarkable in the way people tend to become invisible when someone brighter is standing too close.

Not abused in an obvious way, just… selectively ignored. The kind of neglect that doesn’t leave bruises you can point at, just absence where attention should be.

Years pass. Tom rises. The “Knights” form around him. Power consolidates. And eventually, Harry is dragged along into their orbit anyway, mostly because proximity is unavoidable, not because he belongs there.

Harry doesn’t care about ideology or politics or purity. He wants to graduate. Play Quidditch. Sleep. That’s basically it.

One night, there’s a feast after a Knights gathering. Tom leaves briefly, saying he has “business with Slughorn” and tells everyone to stay and behave.

Music starts playing. Something slow, distorted, almost wrong. Climbing Up the Walls by Radiohead.

Harry puts his head down on the table.

And wakes up still there.

Except he can’t move.

And everyone else is watching him.

At first, he thinks it’s a prank. Then he realizes they’re not looking at him like a person.

They’re looking at him like food.

Not metaphorically.

Hands on him. Pulling him apart. Not elegant, not ritualistic. Just… animal. Like something primal broke loose and no one remembers how to stop it.

Orion Black is there. He’s laughing while tearing into him like it’s nothing personal.

Someone climbs onto the table and reaches for his chest.

Harry is conscious the entire time.

He tries to speak. Begs. Recognizes people. Names them. It doesn’t matter.

No one stops.

And then, just as suddenly as it starts, it ends.

Obliviate.

He wakes up the next day in the same room. Same table. Same students eating breakfast like nothing happened.

His body feels wrong.

In the mirror, he looks fine.

But when he lifts his shirt, there are faint marks. Like something tried to erase him and didn’t fully succeed.

And he remembers everything.

Or thinks he does.

From there, it becomes a pattern.

Harry starts avoiding gatherings he doesn’t remember attending.

He panics in the Great Hall for no reason.

He flinches when people touch him.

Sometimes he wakes up with missing time and the sensation of being inside-out.

And the worst part: no one else acknowledges anything is wrong.

Except Abraxas, who refuses to say anything meaningful.

Harry asks him directly:

“What happened that night?”

And he just answers:

“You don’t want to know.”

Which, of course, makes it worse.

Meanwhile Tom notices inconsistencies.

Harry’s behavior changes. He isolates. Explodes randomly. Starts talking about his heart like it’s missing.

One night Harry says it outright:

“You have my heart. Where is it?”

And Tom laughs it off at first.

Then stops laughing.

Because Harry isn’t joking.

The climax is basically Tom finally confronting him after everything spirals:

“What happened at that feast?”

And Harry, barely holding himself together, tells him what he remembers.

Being eaten. Being watched. Being put back together.

And Tom realizes something terrifying:

Either Harry is delusional…

or something happened in that room that even magic tried to erase.

And no one, not even Tom, has the full version of it.

The story ends (or loops) with Tom tearing everything apart trying to find the truth, and Harry still not sure if he is remembering trauma, or if reality itself edited him like a mistake.

Either way, the question stays the same:

If everyone forgot you were destroyed… did it really happen?

I got this idea showering please write it.

Harry Potter comes downstairs expecting some new Quidditch gear and instead finds Tom Riddle standing at his front door.

His parents are smiling like they’ve just adopted a puppy.

“Harry,” Lily says gently, “this is your new brother.”

Harry thinks this is some kind of horrible joke.

Tom Riddle, his brilliant, arrogant, deeply unsettling school rival, has just moved into his house for the summer. James and Lily adore him immediately. Tom is polite, charming, and terrifyingly good at manipulating adults. Harry hates him on sight and becomes convinced there’s something deeply wrong with him.

Tom, meanwhile, seems to enjoy provoking him.

But the situation is part of something much larger.

Decades ago, Grindelwald won the wizarding war across most of the world. The only major exception was Great Britain, where Dumbledore seized absolute control of the Ministry in order to isolate the country from the outside world and protect it from Grindelwald’s regime.

Ever since then, Britain has been sealed off.

Nobody can leave.

Nobody really knows what’s happening outside its borders.

The Ministry insists the isolation is temporary and necessary. Old pureblood families whisper that the outside world must be better than this tightly controlled society. Hogwarts teaches a carefully filtered version of history. Meanwhile, Dumbledore implements aggressive social programs designed to integrate muggleborns into wizarding society and combat the country’s declining birth rates.

Tom is supposedly part of one of those programs.

At least officially.

In reality, James Potter was secretly ordered to monitor him. There are suspicions involving dark magic, Horcruxes, and possible espionage. The adoption was arranged so Tom could be watched constantly from inside the Potter household.

Harry knows none of this.

All he knows is that he’s suddenly stuck sharing a house with someone who seems to hate the entire world.

The summer is filled with arguments, rivalry, domestic tension, constant competition, and a mutual hostility so intense it slowly starts becoming something else.

Then the Triwizard Tournament begins.

For the first time in decades, Hogwarts welcomes students from outside Britain.

The Durmstrang students are physically perfect. Tall, elegant, confident, impossibly powerful. Britain is immediately fascinated. People begin wondering whether Dumbledore lied to them. Whether isolation was really protection… or just a prison.

Harry starts wondering too.

Until he discovers the truth.

The Durmstrang students are not teenagers.

They’re elderly people hiding behind glamours.

Because the outside world is dying.

Generations of magical blood purists reproducing exclusively among themselves slowly destroyed the wizarding population: deformities, infertility, weakening magic, and social collapse. Grindelwald maintains the illusion of perfection through propaganda, militarization, and carefully staged spectacles designed to convince Britain to reopen its borders.

And Harry slowly realizes Dumbledore never sealed the country away to control people.

He did it to save them.

As the tournament progresses, Harry and Tom become trapped between two monstrous systems, political espionage, family secrets, and a relationship that grows increasingly intense, obsessive, and destructive.

What begins as a forced proximity rivals-to-brothers romcom gradually turns into political horror, state paranoia, and psychological tragedy.

Llevo semanas dándole vueltas a esta idea y necesito que alguien la escriba, por favor.

Ambientada a finales de los 60 o principios de los 70.

Tom Riddle tiene catorce años y vive en el orfanato de Wool. El orfanato está abandonado, es pobre, está superpoblado y resulta profundamente inquietante, como muchas instituciones: a veces desaparecen niños, entran y salen adultos extraños, y todo el mundo aprende rápidamente a no hacer preguntas.

Un día, un hombre alto, vestido completamente de negro, llega al orfanato en un elegante Mustang negro y anuncia con calma que quiere adoptar a un niño inmediatamente.

Su nombre es Gellert Grindelwald.

Tom no tiene ni idea de quién es, pero enseguida se da cuenta cosas.

1. Tom desea salir de Wool's más que nada en e

l

1. mundo.

Tom ha visto antes a niños irse con hombres como él. Algunos regresan al orfanato más callados, extraños, profundamente cambiados. Tom lo nota, pero al final no le importa lo suficiente como para quedarse. Su mayor sueño es escapar de la pobreza, mudarse a Londres algún día, convertirse en escritor y no volver a depender de nadie.

Así que cuando Gellert lo elige casi con indiferencia, como si escogiera un objeto de una estantería, Tom se va de buena gana.

Gellert lo lleva lejos de Londres, a un pueblo agrícola rural Inglés .

El pueblo en sí le resulta extraño desde el principio. Es hermoso, tranquilo, aislado y extrañamente dependiente de Gellert. La gente lo trata con silenciosa reverencia. Todos lo conocen. Todos lo obedecen. Todo el pueblo parece girar en torno a él, social, económica y emocionalmente.

Gellert posee una enorme finca rural oculta tras campos y tierras de cultivo. A primera vista, parece idílica: vallas blancas, jardines, árboles centenarios, el calor del verano, la luz del sol que se filtra por las cortinas, música suave proveniente de otra habitación. La atmósfera debería evocar fuertemente a Las vírgenes suicidas: onírica, nostálgica, hermosa y, en el fondo, profundamente asfixiante.

El trabajo en la finca lo realiza la familia Weasley, que vive en la propiedad con sus hijos a cambio de dinero, vivienda, educación y seguridad. Gellert paga la asistencia de los niños a un prestigioso internado durante el año, y la familia depende completamente de él.

Pero hay rumores.

Charlie Weasley escapó hace años y huyó del país. Se rumorea que Percy Weasley intentará marcharse pronto. Cada vez que un niño se rebela o se va, la familia sufre las consecuencias.

En cuanto Tom llega a la finca, conoce a Harry Potter.

Harry tiene trece años, es pálido, delicado, viste de forma extraña y resulta inmediatamente inquietante para Tom, de una manera que no puede explicar. Lleva ropa blanca y suave que parece anticuada y fuera de lugar para la época. A menudo parece más una muñeca o un fantasma que un niño de verdad. A veces vaga descalzo por los campos llevando corderos o flores. Otras veces desaparece por completo en el silencio.

Harry y Tom se caen mal al principio. Harry es posesivo con la atención de Gellert porque, hasta que llegó Tom, siempre habían sido solo ellos dos. Se ven obligados a compartir habitación.

Con el tiempo, sin embargo, Tom empieza a notar cosas que le incomodan profundamente.

Harry llora por las noches. A veces, Harry sale sigilosamente de la habitación después de medianoche y regresa horas después visiblemente afectado, intentando desesperadamente no llorar. Una noche, Tom nota sangre en las sábanas.

Otra noche, Tom escucha a Gellert hablar con Harry a través de las paredes: «Eres Albus. No eres Harry Potter. Eres Albus Dumbledore».

Harry asiente en silencio.

Tom se da cuenta poco a poco de que Harry no está siendo criado como él mismo. Lo están convirtiendo en un reemplazo de otra persona.

Años antes, Gellert Grindelwald y Albus Dumbledore habían vivido juntos en esa misma finca rural como amantes. Con el tiempo, Gellert se volvió cada vez más obsesivo, controlador, religioso e inestable. Finalmente, Albus lo abandonó. Poco después, los padres de Harry Potter murieron en un incendio. Harry sobrevivió envuelto en un grueso abrigo o manta protectora que más tarde se convertiría en el símbolo de la "Capa de Invisibilidad" de este universo.

Gellert adoptó a Harry poco después de que Albus lo abandonara.

No porque quisiera un hijo.

Porque quería recuperar a Albus.

Harry pasó años atrapado en un entorno psicológicamente abusivo donde su identidad, cuerpo, comportamiento, apariencia y personalidad eran constantemente controlados y moldeados para convertirlos en algo que Gellert consideraba "puro", "bello" y aceptable.

Ejemplos:

• Gellert impone rutinas y oraciones religiosas en la casa a pesar de que Harry admite en privado que no cree en nada de eso. Harry explica las reglas extrañas con naturalidad porque las ha normalizado.

Gellert controla obsesivamente la apariencia de Harry: ropa pálida, alimentación restringida, baños ritualizados, presentación impecable.

Harry adapta constantemente su personalidad según lo que Gellert espera de él.

Harry teme a Gellert, depende emocionalmente de él y no puede imaginar una vida fuera de la mansión.

En un momento dado, Harry le confiesa en voz baja a Tom que, cuando este llegó, esperaba que Gellert lo hubiera adoptado como reemplazo para que finalmente lo dejara en paz.

Pero Gellert tiene otros planes.

Comienza a preparar a Tom para que sea su propio sustituto.

Tom es inteligente, carismático, ambicioso, emocionalmente distante y ávido de poder y estatus. Gellert se ve reflejado en él de inmediato. Poco a poco, Gellert comienza a moldear a Tom para convertirlo en un heredero que eventualmente heredará la propiedad, la influencia del pueblo y, por completo, su visión del mundo.

Uno de los puntos de inflexión de la historia ocurre cuando Gellert lleva a Tom a visitar a sus parientes biológicos. Durante este viaje, la familia de Tom es asesinada, directa o indirectamente por Gellert, lo que obliga a Tom a romper definitivamente con su pasado. Tom se marcha con un anillo tomado de la escena, que se convierte en la versión de la Piedra de la Resurrección en este universo.

A lo largo del verano, Tom se obsesiona cada vez más con comprender:

• qué sucedió exactamente entre Gellert y Albus,
• por qué el pueblo se comporta como una secta,
• por qué Harry parece incapaz de irse psicológicamente,
• y si él mismo está siendo arrastrado lentamente al mismo ciclo.

El internado de Hogwarts adquiere una importancia simbólica porque todos los niños pasan el verano esperando desesperadamente volver allí. La escuela es el único lugar donde pueden respirar, aunque sea temporalmente, lejos del control de Gellert.

El núcleo emocional de la historia debería girar en torno a cómo Tom desarrolla lentamente sentimientos genuinos por Harry, al tiempo que se da cuenta de la horrible magnitud de lo que le han hecho.

Harry, por su parte, se siente atraído por Tom porque es una de las pocas personas a las que Gellert nunca ha quebrado ni transformado por completo.

Posible final:

Las Reliquias de la Muerte existen simbólicamente, no mágicamente:

• La Varita de Saúco se convierte en un cuchillo («El Cuchillo de Saúco»).
• La Piedra de la Resurrección se convierte en el anillo que Tom toma tras el asesinato de sus familiares. La Capa de Invisibilidad se convierte en el abrigo/manta protectora con la que Harry sobrevivió al incendio cuando era niño.

Casi al final del verano, Harry usa las tres Reliquias simbólicas para matar a Gellert Grindelwald.

El acto no debe sentirse triunfal ni heroico. Debe sentirse desesperado, trágico, íntimo y psicológicamente devastador. El asesinato representa la destrucción final de la identidad que le impusieron y la recuperación de su identidad como Harry Potter en lugar de "Albus".

La historia podría terminar de forma ambigua, con los niños partiendo hacia un internado tras sobrevivir al verano, emocionalmente destrozados pero finalmente fuera de la finca.

I got this idea while showering and I need someone to read it.

Set during Harry’s fifth year, after everything in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix starts crushing him all at once. Cedric’s death, Voldemort’s return, the Ministry slandering him, Umbridge tormenting him, isolation from his friends, Privet Drive, constant fear and exhaustion. Harry is only fifteen and emotionally collapsing under the pressure of being “The Chosen One.”

While in Diagon Alley earlier that year, Harry finds a strange old book hidden in a dusty little shop. The book advertises a potion capable of “bringing the drinker to a better life” and promises peace, happiness, and escape from suffering. Harry buys it impulsively, mostly as a joke at first, but after another horrible day involving Umbridge and a fight with Ron and Hermione, he finally brews and drinks the potion.

Instead of killing him, the potion puts Harry into an enchanted sleep.

Four months pass.

Harry cannot be awakened by any magical means. He is physically alive, but mentally trapped somewhere unreachable. The Order panics. Dumbledore eventually enters Harry’s mind/sleep himself in an attempt to rescue him, but never returns. After about a week, Snape follows him in. He disappears too.

By the beginning of the fic, Harry, Dumbledore, and Snape have all been unconscious for weeks.

Then Voldemort has a dream.

In the dream, he finds Harry lying peacefully on a bed floating down a dark river. Harry casually mocks him and tells him something along the lines of, “Now you can’t touch me anymore.” The two sit together on the bed as the river carries them through the dark. Voldemort wakes up furious and immediately decides he is going to hunt Harry down personally, only to discover that Harry Potter has seemingly vanished from the world entirely. No one talks about it. The newspapers barely mention it. Hogwarts is strangely silent. Then he learns that Dumbledore and Snape are gone too.

His greatest enemies have disappeared without him.

Insulted, intrigued, and unwilling to let anyone else “take” Harry from him, Voldemort enters the dream-world himself to retrieve them all… fully intending to kill them afterward personally.

Inside the dream, Harry has unconsciously created an entire fantasy kingdom based on fairy tales, especially Grimm stories and Sleeping Beauty aesthetics. The world reflects everything Harry secretly longs for: comfort, beauty, peace, safety, affection, warmth, childhood fantasy, and escapism.

The dream-world feels heavily inspired by Mabeland from Gravity Falls. It is not evil in an obvious way. It seduces people into staying.

Harry is essentially the sleeping king/prince of this realm. He lives in an enormous enchanted castle surrounded by forests, rivers, villages, magical gardens, impossible architecture, glowing libraries, endless staircases, and surreal dreamlike locations inspired by “impossible dream homes” aesthetics.

The villagers are all based on people Harry knows in real life, distorted by his subconscious perception of them.

Most importantly: Cedric Diggory is alive there.

Cedric acts as Harry’s closest companion, possibly his knight, servant, prince, or castle steward depending on interpretation. Harry is visibly happier around him and develops the sort of awkward teenage crush he never got to fully experience in real life. Cedric represents Harry’s longing for innocence before everything went wrong.

Harry KNOWS on some level that none of this is real, but chooses to remain in the fantasy anyway because reality hurt him too much.

The dream reshapes everyone according to Harry’s perception of them:
- Snape only speaks in riddles because Harry genuinely thinks Snape and Dumbledore never say anything normally.
- Dumbledore is trapped inside a dungeon that manifests as the cupboard under the stairs.
- Voldemort is unwillingly pushed into the role of a fairy tale “Beast” or dark intruder by the narrative logic of the kingdom itself.
- The world actively tries to assign characters archetypal storybook roles.

A major part of the fic would be Voldemort exploring this bizarre kingdom while trying to gather Snape and Dumbledore and ultimately convince/force Harry to wake up. The dynamic between Harry and Voldemort should alternate between funny, unsettling, emotional, and strangely intimate. Harry treats Voldemort almost like an annoying recurring guest in his kingdom while Voldemort becomes increasingly frustrated by how absurd the world is.

There should also be a corrupted region hidden somewhere in the kingdom representing the Horcrux connection between them. Unlike the rest of the beautiful fairy tale world, this area is rotten, dark, green-tinted, dying, and almost uninhabitable. Harry avoids acknowledging it exists.

The emotional breaking point of the fic should involve Cedric.

At some point, Voldemort realizes Cedric is the emotional anchor keeping Harry inside the dream. As long as Cedric exists, Harry will never willingly leave. Voldemort ultimately destroys or kills the dream-version of Cedric in order to force the fantasy to collapse and rescue Harry from it.

This completely shatters Harry emotionally because, from his perspective, Voldemort has now “killed Cedric twice.”

Meanwhile, the real world outside slowly destabilizes because Harry Potter, Dumbledore, Snape, and Voldemort are all simultaneously missing from the war.