Chapter 52: Predestination (1981) (Patreon)
Content
31st October 1981, Godric’s Hollows
(Jasmine POV)
It’s been a while since I have been in Britain. I believe I left Europe after Grindelwald’s war, or on the non-magical side the second world war. I joined the SSR as a scientist and was even Dr. Erskine’s assistant. The man was undoubtedly brilliant and ahead of his time.
His serum allowed the body to temporarily absorb magical energies, not that he knows what that is. He developed it as a way to temporarily heal his patients. Unfortunately, his funding was mainly from the German military and of course, they passed him up to their scientific division Hydra to weaponize it.
It’s a shame, he was a man of peace and all he wanted was to leave the world better that it would have been if he wasn’t born. The head of Hydra, Johann Schmidt, forced the doctor to use it on him, turning him into the red skull. Luckily, the man was able to escape to America and decided to help the SSR as a way to atone for his mistake.
The problem with the serum is that it works too well. There are no boundaries, it is a ritual. A ritual made by a muggle that did not account into consideration that magic was a thing. The ritual is simple in its nature, to enhance and the price is pain. There is a reason why wizards and witches don’t do similar rituals. The subject is bare before magic, it enhances not only the body, but every aspect of the personality. Simply put, as the doctor used to say, Good becomes better and Bad becomes worse. Any normal human would turn bipolar, they would be extremely kind and cruel at a moment’s notice. The Paradox will be too much for them and they would not survive for long. The only way for it to succeed is for the subject to have a very strong inclination for a single aspect of their personality. The red skull wanted to dominate, it was the core of his personality, so he became crueler, more cowardly, and slightly unhinged.
There’s a reason why Steve Rogers was the perfect candidate for this experiment. All he wanted in life was to protect others. This was his core; it was why he chose to fight with a shield. This aspect of this personality was enhanced by the serum. Luckily, I was there to help the doctor stabilize the formula, otherwise we would have had a suicidal Steve Rogers that would kill himself just to save some strangers. There is a reason why we need negative emotions.
A man that is only good does not exist and should not exist. I was able to somewhat mitigate the mental effects of the ritual, making it more efficient so to speak. Either way, it was fun to be indirectly part of events of history. I would have killed myself if I ended up as Peggy Carter or something. And so, I continued my life in America as Doctor Margaret Sayre in the muggle world, or the Lady Sayre in the magical world.
Everything was well, until I felt the wards of the temple of Hades alert me that someone was intruding. Honestly speaking, I would have let them take whatever they wanted, I made sure to collect any dangerous artifact or text from the times of Olympus. The temple was empty, I made sure of that. The temple might have been named after Hades, but the man had nothing to do with it. This was a school of necromancy and dark magic I created in Greece. But after the Olympians were gone, it was used as a place to worship the god of the underworld.
But suddenly, I felt that the intruder used a ritual to summon the patron of the temple and curious, I shadow travelled to the temple in Greece. The ritual was a neat one, if I say so myself. It uses the fact that when you create something, take an idea, and make it a reality, it would always be connected to you. The ritual uses that connection to contact the creator. It could be used to send a message, ask for them to come or something else. It was a very old ritual created by artificers to ensure that the creation was not stolen or copied.
Whoever is trying to summon me modified the ritual so that it would forcefully bring me to him. It was a cute attempt, but it was a rather clever move to use a leyline to power the ritual, that way if I resisted, I wouldn’t be able to kill him. I was curious so I decided to go with it.
Imagine my surprise when I came face to face with a young Tom Riddle, that was convinced that I was Death and wanted to challenge me so that he would become my master like the sorcerer supreme is. It was weird that people think that the sorcerer supreme beat Death to become immortal. Nimue, or the ancient one as she calls herself for some reason, was only immortal because of her connection to the dark dimension.
I offered to help her once, but she refused; it was an unwritten rule for immortals to not share their methods of immortality. I still can’t believe every person that isn’t a sorcerer thinks that she’s a guy. Sexism at its finest. I guess she chose this silly name of hers to see people’s expressions when they realize that she’s a woman.
Back to the situation at hand, it was cute really, like having a puppy trying to intimidate you. I just created an illusion and had him try to fight it. I felt like I was messing with a dog. He kept sending killing curses at the illusion and I had it turn into smoke and pretend like no magic could affect it. He even tried to use fiendfire on me, but I got bored of playing with him. I waved my hand and held him in the air and broke every bone in his arms and legs. He screamed in agony and could barely think straight. I guess I still have unresolved issues for trying to kill me when I was a baby.
Just to mess with him, I enter his mind and say in a raspy voice in his head, “You are not the one who will become my Master. You are nothing more than a child running from what is inevitable. In the end, everything and everyone enters my realm.”
I could visibly see him pale and shiver at my voice, so much for the Dark Lord Voldemort, the most dangerous dark lord that ever live. What a joke. Anyway, I left the sobbing man in the temple and shadow travelled back to my mansion. I have stayed in America ever since that encounter. I may have taken a few trips every now and then, just for fun. But with my birth nearing, the pressure to not make any mistakes is quite painful so I opt to stay away.
That’s why it was odd when during the night of Samhain in 1981, the day that sentenced me into a very painful childhood. It was a surprise that I was involved with the situation. I have to be very careful and not mess up. The consequences would be disastrous. I shadow travelled to little Hangleton and activated my true invisibility cloak. When I wear the cloak, I simply do not exist, I can go through any ward, I can even become intangible and go through walls. After all, this was Death’s cloak and Death is unseen and undetectable.
I enter the Potter cottage. It’s curious that I could see it. It seems that coming back in time does not change the fact that I learnt the secret from when I was a baby. What a curious theory and loophole to the Fidelius charm. I’ll have to study it further.
I can feel the universe guiding me and I do not resist; there is too much at stake. I walk up the stairs and find myself in my baby room. Inside, baby Jasmine was there playing with Nathan, levitating blocks. They were guarded by Pettigrew. Such a cowardly man, he is. If it wasn’t obvious by his Animagus form, he kept trembling in fear knowing that he was about to do.
Pettigrew just got up went outside of the room. He would probably summon his master soon. As soon as he leaves, I can feel the urge to do something, I can feel the universe itself guiding me. I create a single rune in the air, the power rune, the one I have on my forehead. I keep the rune floating in the air and I instinctively know what I must do. I move it towards my younger counterparts’ forehead.
It is automatically absorbed by the child. The girl turned around, as if looking for something. It’s curious to know that I could sense magic from such a young age. It might be a little arrogant and narcissistic, but I have to say that this was seriously impressive.
I watch my younger counterpart as she played with her brother, feeling a little bit of pity towards the girl. This will be the last time she will be so carefree for a long time. I wish I could spare her pain but there is nothing I could do. What happened to me must happen to her.
I though about leaving but I am not done here. There is something left that I need to do, not that I know what it is. I just keep waiting and watching the children play. After a couple of minutes, I feel someone apparating outside the house. The dark lord is here.
I look out the window and watch as the traitor tells him the secret. I watch as the rat begs his master to leave and then apparates away. I watched as the abomination slowly walked up the stairs. He barely has a soul anymore and his body is warped by so many rituals that he cannot be considered human. I keep watching as he stares at the children. Is this the reason the universe deemed it necessary for me to be here? To be a witness to what happened?
As soon as I had that thought, I felt the universe tell me what to do. It had never told me what to do with such details before. I understand now what I must do. I subtly enter Voldemort’s mind and make him block the next few minutes from his long-term memory. He will not remember what happened and will probably blame the backlash of the killing curse.
I watch as my younger counterpart senses the danger that the intruder presents and crawl in front of her brother. The abomination, for some reason, taunts a one year old girl. Truly, the man has lost all common sense. As he sends the killing curse towards the girl, I create a soul magic shield to protect the children. It was exactly as strong as the universe’s vision told me to make it. I watch as the golden shield fights against the spell and a small crack lets some residue of the spell strike Nathan on his left cheek, giving him his legendary scar.
Another crack appeared and the energy of the killing curse seemed to hit my counterpart as well, breaking the shield completely. The abomination thought that the spell killed her, but the spell was absorbed by the girl, by the rune I put up earlier. I saw it appear on her forehead, exactly where she was hit. Suddenly, her body could not contain the energy of the spell and lets out a veritable wave of magic, with the same color as the killing curse, disintegrating the dark lord’s body and blasts a hole through the room. The girl obviously passed out from exertion.
I understand now, there was never any fluke of magic or element of fate magically saving me that day. It was always me. Nathan was not the boy who lived, and I was not the girl who lived, they didn’t exist because it couldn’t exist, No one survives being hit with the killing curse without something protecting them.
A shield, a ritual or something was needed. In the Harry Potter book, Lily Potter used a ritual, sacrificing herself to save her son. But in this case, there was no sacrifice and a baby doing advanced soul magic is laughable. Well, that solves that mystery, it always bothered me how it never made sense.
I watch the sleeping girl that didn’t know the horrors that would await her. I will see her once more when I send her to the closest place that she would call home. To the place that I still consider my home, even now. She will go to Atlantis and meet a man that she will one day consider her father. She will live a long full life, full of happiness, adventure, and pain. Knowing what will await her, I look back at my life and admit to myself that I wouldn’t change a single thing. I just wish her good luck and shadow travel back to my mansion. One decade and I will be free from fate, once more.