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Great Britain, England, Gloucestershire
Godric's Hollow lay within this remote county. Of course, that was the wizarding name. In the Muggle world, it was called the Dean Valley, with the Forest of Dean to the east.
It couldn't compare to Hogsmeade, but there were plenty of wizards living in Godric's Hollow. The Potters once lived here. So did the Dumbledores. Calling it a semi-wizard settlement was more than justified.
As soon as he reached the village entrance, Tom felt the traces of magic. On the north side of the valley, Muggle-Repelling Charms were in place. Any Muggle who tried to approach would be gently driven away, their thoughts turning to more pressing matters elsewhere.
Never one to forget a grudge, Tom remembered that one of his enemies lived here too. Grindelwald's great-aunt, Bathilda Bagshot.
Back when he was angling for the Order of Merlin, the old woman had been hopping around making a fuss about his age. On top of that, she was a renowned historian of magic. The textbook currently used at Hogwarts was her work.
She had also criticized Tom's History of the Wizarding World more than once, claiming he cited sources that couldn't be verified.
Tom had slapped her down hard in response. If you can't find the sources, that's your problem. My materials came straight from those families. Maybe ask yourself why they won't give them to you.
Rumor had it that after that exchange, the old bat spent a month and a half in St. Mungo's. Tom still wasn't satisfied. He turned around and went after A History of Magic instead.
He picked out over two hundred errors. And he didn't release them all at once. Every few days, the Daily Prophet would publish a handful more.
By now, Bagshot was so furious she'd lost her clarity. The new edition of A History of Magic stalled halfway through. Dumbledore had even tried to mediate between them, only for Tom to brush him off by changing the subject.
Offend him and expect peace afterward? There was no such person in this world.
The only real pity was that Professor Binns was too resistant to new things. Otherwise, Tom would have replaced the textbook for her as well.
He glanced at the low house on the hillside. Seeing that the lights were still on, he quietly decided that if Ariana's revival succeeded, he'd celebrate by giving Bagshot something extra. Enough to send her back to St. Mungo's for another stay.
...
Reaching the end of the valley, Tom turned down a side path. After walking along a winding mountain trail, the view suddenly opened up.
This was the Godric's Hollow cemetery. Percival and Kendra were buried here.
Ariana, who had been sharing Tom's vision the whole time, fell silent. The excitement of her impending revival faded into sadness.
"They'd be happy for you," Tom said softly. "Children are the continuation of their parents' lives. And you, especially, still have an important duty. To carry on the Dumbledore bloodline."
"Mm!"
Ariana nodded hard.
At the foot of the hill, Tom gently raised his hand and sent a softly glowing sphere of pale white light into the sky, illuminating the cemetery below.
In the darkness, weeds ran wild and many gravestones had tilted with age. But on the left side of the graveyard, the section belonging to the Dumbledore family was neat and well kept.
This wasn't Tom's first visit. He had come once before, burying Percival's remains beside Ariana's mother, without erecting a headstone.
In front of the tall marble monument, there were clear signs that the weeds had been cleared recently.
Was it the headmaster… or Aberforth?
"Ariana, I'm about to begin."
"Mm. Be careful, Tom." Ariana replied from the study space, then fell silent at once, afraid of distracting him.
A cauldron was set up. Flames flared to life beneath it, water sloshing inside as Tom added ingredients from time to time, stirring with his wand.
As the surface began to boil and the steam thickened, a sharp, acrid smell spread through the air.
Then Tom took out two more materials from his small world.
A baby. And two adults.
Ariana's soul needed somewhere to reside for now. A soul required a body for the potion to take effect.
The three bodies were temporary vessels Tom had created—flesh and blood produced entirely through alchemy. Perfect bodies with enormous potential, he didn't want a situation like Andros'—dying from his vast magic—to happen among his own people. Even the baby had been crafted to the highest standards.
"Ariana, you can come out now."
With a thought, Tom activated the contract. Using his own body as a relay, he drew her out, then released her completely.
A soul was vague and intangible, different even from Voldemort's state of existence. Even Tom could only make out Ariana's rough outline through his magical sight.
"Hiss—!"
In soul form, Ariana felt as though her entire being had been set on fire. The searing pain was worse than being cut by blades.
She rushed into the infant's body as fast as she could, yet the discomfort lingered.
This was the backlash of a soul not fully matched to its flesh.
"Hang in there. It hurts at first, but it'll get better," Tom said, offering a word of comfort before briskly dropping Ariana into the cauldron.
Ariana: "...…"
Somehow, it really felt like Tom was about to boil and eat her.
Tom took a deep breath. Even he was nervous now. He was reversing life and death itself. Compared to Voldemort, Ariana was truly and completely dead. The difference in nature was enormous.
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your daughter!"
The grave cracked open. A wisp of ash responded to Tom's call, rising into the air and drifting into the cauldron. The potion roiled violently, the liquid turning a vivid blue.
Then Tom extended his left arm. His wand traced a light line across his smooth skin. Blood welled up, not dark red, but shimmering gold mixed with crimson. It glowed like shattered pearls from a broken necklace, droplets scattering as they fell into the cauldron.
"Blood of the master, willingly sacrificed, you will restore life's miracle."
Boom!
The potion exploded. A pillar of golden-red light shot into the sky. Weeds around them grew wildly, the brilliance overwhelming the glow of the white sphere above. Fortunately, Tom had set concealment wards beforehand. Otherwise, even from dozens of miles away, the spectacle would have been visible.
The servant's flesh and the enemy's blood had both become the master's blood. The bond remained strong, and Tom's blood carried a miraculous power greater than either.
Finally—
Tom glanced at the two adult bodies. With a light tap of his wand, they floated up. Their bodies twisted like rubber, collapsing into two blood-red masses. Finding it unpleasant, Tom flicked his wand again. The life force separated from the flesh, gathering into light before dropping into the cauldron.
Golden-red sparks burst in every direction, painting everything around them in gold, streaked with an eerie black, like black velvet.
Suddenly, the sparks went out.
White steam rose from the cauldron, slowly devouring the golden light. Tom stepped through the mist and saw the silhouette of a woman rising.
"Tom?!"
Ariana's voice trembled, on the verge of tears.
"Ha…"
Tom let out a breath, turning it into a brief gust of wind that blew the steam away. Nothing stood between them now.
And then he saw it. Absolutely nothing in the way.
"Ariana, congratulations. You're alive again."
"Aaaah!"
A piercing scream tore through the night sky.
Being completely exposed was mortifying; it snapped Ariana out of her confusion almost instantly.
...
Later, she was already wrapped in a robe, pressed tightly against Tom's chest. Feeling his solid warmth, the very real touch of him, made everything feel strangely dreamlike.
The study space claimed to be almost a perfect simulation, but she could still tell the difference.
It wasn't Tom who had changed.
It was her.
She was really alive again.
"How do you feel?" Tom asked.
"Empty," the girl blurted out without thinking. Then her cheeks burned red and she said shyly, "I need more clothes."
For a master of Transfiguration, turning leaves into clothing would have been trivial. Still, Tom took her home first, then went to a nearby closed department store for a little midnight shopping, returning with several outfits that suited Ariana.
When he got back, Ariana was dancing lightly around the living room in a bathrobe, overflowing with energy she had nowhere to spend.
After she changed, the two of them went out to the backyard to run some tests.
Wand in hand, Ariana called out targets one by one at a range of ten meters. Some exploded into fragments, some were burned clean through, and some turned into little squirrels, spinning in confused circles on the ground.
The results were better than expected.
"My magic just won't run out, and I can clearly feel it all the time. I only ever felt like this before when I let the Obscurus loose. Casting spells is so much easier now. I don't even need to fully concentrate and I still get one hundred and twenty percent results. Tom… you're incredible."
Once again, Ariana felt from the side just how terrifying the gap between herself and Tom really was.
She knew her improvement wasn't because she had a physical body again, but because Tom's blood now flowed through her veins.
Divine Power. Fire dragon blood. Phoenix blood.
Any one of those was a priceless treasure to a wizard, something that could overturn fate itself.
Tom was equally pleased with her performance. "Even without relying on the Obscurus, you're already stronger than most wizards. By the way, how is it now?"
Ariana held out her hand. Wisps of black magic seeped from her palm.
"It's still devouring my magic, but very slowly. Just like when it was first born."
Magic was closely tied to the soul. An Obscurus was born from magic, or rather, it was an extension of the soul. So when Ariana was revived, the Obscurus inside her revived as well.
That much was expected.
But after the resurrection, all the life force and magic it had consumed before were gone. It had to start over from scratch.
This time, Ariana wasn't afraid. She had the confidence to feed this monster.
A six- or seven-year-old child couldn't be compared to a fourteen-year-old witch. And she was far beyond a normal fourteen-year-old.
"Take it slow," Tom said, rubbing her head. "If anything feels wrong, tell me right away. I can seal it for you, and you can lift the seal when you're ready."
"No."
The girl's tone was firm. She clenched her fist, forcing the Obscurus back inside. "I already lost to it once. This time, I'm the one who's going to win."
"Good. That's the spirit."
Tom was very satisfied with her resolve.
"Train properly at the Guild. You need real combat experience. The situation in the study space is too special. There are no consequences there. The real world isn't like that."
Tom had agonized for a while over what to do with Ariana next.
Bringing her straight back to school and blowing Dumbledore's mind was tempting, but what then?
Making Ariana another transfer student sounded amusing, but right now he was short on people. Not ordinary labor, but trustworthy managers.
So his plan was to have Ariana train at the Guild for a while, then take it over completely, freeing Crouch to focus on other matters.
Tom's plans were well thought out. But unfortunately, Ariana had ideas of her own.
"Tom… I…"
She hesitated, too nervous to meet his eyes, but forced herself to speak anyway.
"I want to keep studying under Professor Grindelwald for a while longer. What do you think about me going to Durmstrang?"
Tom stared at her, stunned, an absurd feeling rising in his chest.
Grindelwald was this terrifying?
.
.
.