Chapter Text
Everyone stood stunned. Well, in Harry Potter's case, tied to a headstone, stunned. Because instead of the Dark Lord Voldemort being reborn, there stood a 14-year-old boy. Only one man in the entire cemetery recognized that boy. Although Harry felt he looked oddly familiar, he was exhausted, and his brain was in survival mode, thank you very much. He almost did not believe his old eyes. Yet there he stood. Shaking as he forced his body to move forward, Ezra Nott stood in front of him.
"Tom?" Ezra asked hesitantly. "Is that you?"
Tom looked at him with a furrowed brow and squinted eyes. "Ezra Nott? How come you seem to have aged, old friend? Did one of the Gryffindors manage a prank on you? And where are we?"
"Tom, I don't know how, but you are years into the future. It is currently 1995, June 24th to be exact. It has been a long and hard journey, my friend."
He could hear the gasps at Nott's calling Lord Voldemort 'friend,' but it was true for Tom's age. Before the Horcruxes began, Tom Riddle was a bright young wizard whom Ezra had the privilege of calling a friend. Ezra, Tom, Abraxas Malfoy, Orion Black, Rudolf Lestrange, and Gregory Greengrass were all close friends during their childhoods before the madness took hold of Tom.
"I..what? What's happened to that boy over there? Why is he tied up? Ezra....tell me....did my fears become founded?"
"Yes, old friend, I am afraid they did," Ezra says softly. "Give me one moment, will you?" He smiles sadly before glaring at everyone else. "Leave and do not speak of these events. If you have, I will remind every single one of you why I was always his favorite. I watched all of you grow up since you were in nappies! Do not dare utter a single syllable of this!"
The group that remained was an odd one: an elder Ezra Nott, a 14-year-old Tom Riddle, and the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter. Truthfully, Harry wasn't sure about what to make of the situation. He never quite understood the reason for the war in the first place, if he was being quite honest. He was just told he had to fight.
"I I don't understand..." Harry said as Ezra let him down. "W-What happened? H-How could this have happened?... Does he... does he not know anything after he was 14?..."
Ezra watched as Harry held his wand tightly. The child made no effort to rush to Dumbledore. He filed that away for now. He needed to focus on the fact that his Lord was now his friend. It was odd. When the madness took over, he never dared to believe or hope to see any sign of his old friend. Instead, he went with what was happening and adapted accordingly. As any wizard with even an ounce of self-preservation would do.
"Perhaps, I can shed some knowledge on the situation."
Startled, the three wizards looked to see a cloaked figure. Harry frowned as he looked at the figure. There was something familiar. Something similar to going home after a long trip.
"Death?" Harry whispers.
"I am indeed Lord Death Mortem." The figure pulled its hood down, revealing an unearthly, pale, androgynous individual. Their eyes were pitch black in a way that made Severus Snape pale in comparison. "Oh, Harry Potter, how you look so much like your Ancestor, Ignotus Peverell. At least you would without the glamours of Albus Dumbledore."
"W-What?..."
Harry looked at his hands, confused. Did this mean he wasn't truly who he thought he was? Even down to his looks? He had a feeling deep down, sure, but he just thought it was anxiety from dangerous situations in a new world.
"Do not despair, young one." Death said softly. "I have been allowed by Mother Magic to intervene. Not much, but enough. I need you, and Mr Riddle here, to go to Gringotts and request Lord Silas and Account Manager Alrast. Lord Nott, you could go with them if it helps, especially as they are both teens."
"What about Dumbledore?" Harry whispers. "What if he notices I don't come back?"
"That will not be a concern, I assure you." Death states. "I will be allowing one instance of revival, as Cedric Diggory was not meant to die. Cedric will be a great ally. While he is not a Peverell, his family still has their own special ties to me."
"You could say that again," Cedric grumbles before giving Harry a sheepish grin. "My name is Cedric Azrael Diggory. There is always one son of the main line born every generation. Every son shares the same middle name, Azrael, meaning "Angel of Death". My family has been serving Death as loyal servants for centuries."
"Cedric!"
Cedric gave a grunt as the fourteen-year-old ran up and hugged him tight. He held him close with a sigh. He was watching by Death's side the moment the curse hit him. He was glad that Death allowed him to come back. What most in Hogwarts did not know is that he and Harry had begun dating. The only ones who knew were Cedric's friends Cho, Fred, and George Weasley, Roger Davies, and Cassius Warrington. From Harry's friends, the only two who knew were Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom.
"I am so glad you are okay," Harry says brokenly. "I I watched you die... I I thought..."
"Shhh," Cedric shakes his head. "I am sorry you had to see that. But I am here. My heart still beats. Now, let us figure out what is next."
"I suggest, Heir Diggory, that you take the cup and go back. I will take both Young Potter and Tom to Gringotts and get that all sorted. Tell them that Heir Potter has disappeared. Tell only your Father and Mother the truth. Do not trust Dumbledore."
"You can count on me, Lord Nott."
Cedric stood up and helped Harry stand as well. They hugged each other for a few moments before Cedric gave him a soft kiss goodbye. The Hufflepuff then glared at Lord Nott.
"Protect him. Do not allow harm to come to him. If any harm comes to him, I will take action. He is to be my betrothed."
"Wait, you talked to your Father?"
Cedric gave his boyfriend a grin. "I did. Right before the third task. I asked for his permission to officially ask you to be my betrothed. He agreed and said we would be a fine match."
"Oh, Ced, that's wonderful!"