"Legendary Pokémon… Uxie…"
After obtaining intelligence about the two targets, Grindelwald also received a Pokémon exclusively sponsored by Team Rocket.
— Pawniard.
Now Grindelwald possessed three Pokémon: Larvesta, Pidgeotto, and Pawniard. Though their levels were still low, Team Rocket had no shortage of training resources. High-nutrition Pokéblocks could easily be provided for them.
Even at Hogwarts, he enjoyed the same privilege. In truth, though Grindelwald had only three Pokémon, he was receiving the resources of more than six. If he still couldn't raise their levels, that would truly be a disgrace.
Of course, no matter what kind of Pokémon one had, growth always required time.
The scene shifted back to Hogwarts. After the Quidditch match ended, the first victim appeared.
Lockhart was found holding a diary—or rather, Tom Riddle, who had already possessed the fake Lockhart, had attacked a first-year student named Colin. The incident shocked both teachers and students who had believed the earlier events were mere pranks. The truth was undeniable now: the Chamber of Secrets had really been opened.
Panic swept through Hogwarts.
Meanwhile, the true culprit was preparing to leave.
"Master, you should leave Hogwarts. It's far too dangerous here," said Lockhart anxiously. "Now that we've secured Pokémon, I can find a way to revive you. I'll stay at Hogwarts to gain access to the Academy's resources for raising Pokémon—and to gather information about the legendary ones."
"You're right, Barty."Riddle gazed at this servant he had never met before and couldn't help but feel moved—he still had a loyal follower, after all.
Not every Death Eater was a cowardly, self-serving fool.
But now, only one remained.
"The bone of the father, the blood of the foe, and the flesh of the servant—these can bring me back to life. Barty, take me to Little Hangleton! My pitiful Muggle father's body is buried there!" Riddle demanded eagerly.
"Of course!" Barty Crouch Jr. licked his lips excitedly.
It was he who had attacked Lockhart. Years ago, he'd been imprisoned in Azkaban by his own father but later rescued by his mother. Ever since, he'd been kept confined at home. When the Dark Lord had summoned the Death Eaters aboard Charles's ship not long ago, Barty hadn't been able to answer the call.
Only later did he seize a fleeting chance to break free from his father's control and regain his freedom.
But by then, the Death Eaters had been completely annihilated. Even the Dark Lord, rumor claimed, had perished at Giovanni's hands. Yet Barty refused to believe it.
He was certain the Dark Lord had merely disappeared—just as he had eleven years ago.
He would return, one day.
And before that day came, Barty would prepare for his master's return—by seizing the power of Pokémon!
To his astonishment, upon entering Hogwarts, he discovered something even greater: the Dark Lord was not only alive, but had opened the Chamber of Secrets once more. With only a diary's power, he had achieved immortality.
That made Barty worship him even more.
Now, to restore the Dark Lord's body, Barty was willing to give up his life—let alone just a piece of flesh.
But Riddle hesitated.
Not because he cared for his followers, but because aside from Barty, he had no one left. Loyal servants like this were rare even in his prime. Most Death Eaters had served him out of fear—or for profit.
As for the "blood of the enemy," Riddle had no particular interest in Harry Potter. He didn't yet know he couldn't touch the boy. To him, enemies were abundant throughout the wizarding world.
And if there weren't any, he could always make more.
What difference did it make?
Barty carried the diary to Little Hangleton. The small village lay silent as ever, untouched for years. The great battle that had taken place there months earlier seemed to have vanished from history. The Ministry had already restored everything to its former state.
It was reminiscent of when Karkaroff had tried to resurrect Voldemort months ago—except this time, Charles wasn't there to interfere.
Barty set up a cauldron and prepared the potions."Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"
The grave beneath his feet cracked open, and a wisp of gray dust rose into the cauldron. The diamond-like surface of the potion shattered with a hiss, sparks flying. The liquid turned bright blue—clearly toxic.
Then Barty drew a dagger without hesitation and sliced off his own arm. Pain twisted his face, but he didn't scream."Flesh of the servant… willingly given… you will revive your master…"
The bloody arm fell into the cauldron with a splash, turning the potion a burning red.
Barty gasped for breath, trembling between agony and ecstasy. What was one arm, compared to the glory of the Dark Lord's return?
"Blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will resurrect your foe…"
He dragged forward a wizard he had kidnapped. The man struggled, but Barty drove the blade into his throat and pulled him toward the cauldron. Blood gushed like from a slaughtered beast, spilling into the brew.
The potion turned a dazzling white.Barty clutched his bleeding stump, retreating as a manic grin split his pale face—he looked utterly insane.
The cauldron began to boil, throwing off brilliant sparks like shattered diamonds. The light was so blinding that the surroundings sank into velvet-black darkness.
Then the sparks vanished.White steam rose from the cauldron—and from within stepped a man with jet-black hair and pale skin, naked but majestic.
It was Barty's first time truly seeing his master's face. So different from the later, monstrous visage.
He was handsome, dignified, almost noble—like a man born to stand in the Minister for Magic's office, calmly handling matters of state.
And yet…
This was the most powerful Dark wizard in history—the nightmare of an entire generation.
"Master—!"
"So noisy."Riddle frowned, took the wand Barty offered him, and conjured a black robe for himself.
The wand had belonged to Lockhart.
"Do you know, Barty? I feel utterly humiliated. Every single person dares to speak my name aloud!" he hissed. "They've forgotten their fear. They've turned 'Voldemort' into a joke! I spent decades building that terror—yet that man, Charles Gold, erased it in a single year!"
Riddle's obsession with his name ran deep.He loathed "Tom," despised the filthy "Riddle," yet Charles Gold had exposed all his secrets to the world.
Now even the name "Voldemort" no longer symbolized death and fear.
"Master, perhaps we could—" Barty began, pale but feverish with madness, suggesting they hunt down anyone who dared speak the name aloud, as in the old days.
But Riddle only shook his head."The times have changed, Barty. Until I regain enough strength, we must not reveal ourselves. As for you—my loyal servant—"
He flicked his wand, and Barty's missing arm regenerated. White bone sprouted, followed by muscle and skin, until it was whole again.
Barty didn't even seem surprised. He had always trusted in his master's "mercy." And indeed, this was his reward.
"Master, what are your plans now?" he asked, bowing low.
This young Riddle seemed more composed, elegant, and intelligent than the monstrous Voldemort of the future. Now he was truly reborn.
Barty longed to know how the Death Eaters would rise again.
"You will remain at Hogwarts. Keep an eye on that Mudblood and learn what she knows about the legendary Pokémon. As for me—" Riddle's eyes gleamed. "I intend to join Team Rocket."
Hogwarts housed power strong enough to destroy him; Team Rocket had slain "Voldemort" once before.
Clearly, in this new world, magic alone was not enough. One needed Pokémon.
But with only a single Sneasel, his strength was pitiful. He needed another approach. And since even Dumbledore from the other world had mentioned legendary Pokémon—how could he not be tempted?
Yes, among Team Rocket, he would find his chance to reach them… and perhaps learn more about Giovanni of the Earth.
Barty hesitated."Master, isn't joining Team Rocket… too risky?"
"You fear I'll be killed?" Riddle sneered.
He despised being underestimated.
"N-never, Master! You are immortal!"
"Hmph. Immortal? I'm not so sure." His eyes darkened. "Come with me."
Riddle strode away, Barty close behind. They soon left the village and reached a more remote one.
"The Gaunt Shack."Before even entering, Riddle sneered. He could already sense that his protective wards had been broken—the treasures within likely gone.
Inside, he found his suspicion confirmed. The ring he'd left behind had vanished.
"Dumbledore? Or Charles Gold?" he muttered. But he didn't dwell on it. Instead, he turned to Barty. "I need you to verify something. Go to the eighth floor of Hogwarts—beneath the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls."
"When you find it, walk past three times, thinking: I need a place to hide something. Inside, there should be a diadem."
"A diadem?" Barty repeated, nodding eagerly.
"Whether you find it or not, write to me immediately."
"Yes, Master!"
"And give me your house-elf. You have one, don't you?"
"Yes, Master—her name is Winky. She'll do anything for you, I swear!" Barty said, bowing low.
Moments later, the trembling house-elf appeared before Riddle, her large eyes glistening with tears as she dared not look up.
"Silence."
Riddle's voice was cold. He felt no compassion for such creatures. Were it not for his need to check on his other Horcruxes, he wouldn't have tolerated their presence at all.
House-elves?They couldn't compare to Pokémon in the slightest.
With that contemptuous thought, he vanished with Winky in tow.
Apparition.
He appeared atop a massive rock—perhaps once part of a cliff face. The landscape was barren, lifeless. No trees, no grass, no sand—only stone and sea.
He could smell the salt of the ocean, hear the roar of the waves.Moonlight shimmered over the surf as a cold wind swept his hair. He stood on a black rock rising from the water, foam swirling at his feet. Behind him loomed a steep cliff, its face swallowed in shadow.
"Come."
Without hesitation, Riddle descended toward the base of the cliff, wand drawn, forcing Winky to follow.
Then the sea split apart.
A narrow crack appeared in the cliffside, widening into a pitch-black passage. The tar-dark walls glistened with wetness in the flicker of his wandlight.
He flew inside, turned several bends, and reached the end.
Grabbing Winky's small hand, he sliced her palm open. Blood splattered as he pressed it against the wall.
Once again, a white outline of an arch appeared—but this time it didn't fade. The blood-soaked rock vanished, revealing a dark doorway that led into endless blackness.
(End of Chapter)