A/N: Corona-virus huh? I hope you enjoy this chapter.

"You will never know." Those words echoed through Lord Voldemort's head. His snake slithered as aimlessly as his thoughts. He had no followers with him at the moment and had retreated to Riddle's mansion. Contrary to what people thought, Lord Voldemort did feel. He was painfully aware of the humiliation and rage. Those emotions had not disappeared once he ascended to immortality. They had stayed even during the peak of the first war when Dumbledore thwarted his attempts. He again felt the rage and humiliation when he was but a ghost, bested by a boy. The boy. An old foe like Dumbledore did not generate sheer wonder of being thwarted as much as the boy. Harry Potter made him feel utter disbelief and rage.

'How?' He thought as he clenched his fist.

"How… did you do that, Harry?" Dumbledore asked cautiously.

"I dunno, Professor. My wand kinda knew what to do, and I just did it. Merlin's balls! That was scary." Harry laughed, trying his best to be amazed.

Dumbledore leaned back, thinking thoughtfully. He knew that the brother wands could lead to unpredictable behavior. Was this one of -

"Umm. Professor. Did something similar happen with your battle against Grindlewald?" Harry asked, looking really interested.

"Ah. No Harry. I… I knew Gellert Grindlewald well." Dumbledore looked mildly irritated at the interruption.

"Sorry, Professor. I just thought that it could be a miracle. You know, it would've been really cool if it were so. Ah, but well, my wand's kinda burnt out. So I will have to think of something different." Harry shrugged and got up. "Umm. I kinda have to pee. So if there's nothing more…"

"Nothing at the moment, no," Dumbledore said as he drew his wand, pulling the memory out from his head.

"Good day, Headmaster Dumbledore," Harry said, eyeing his last heirloom - the death stick in the Headmaster's hand.

Dumbledore came out of the Pensieve shaken and grim. For the first time in his life, he saw Harry differently. Previous encounters with Voldemort were always tinged with a great deal of luck and a bit of supernatural help - of the dying kind. In each of the clashes, Harry was on the verge of death, but here, facing Tom in the first task, he seemed prepared and competent. A dead giveaway was the spells Harry had used. Firing exact spells, Voldemort had started with, but in reverse. This was a show meant for Voldemort - to show him how he outclassed him in magical strength, finesse, and wit. With a shaky hand, he removed other memories - his past interactions with him during this year.

"You are someone else," Dumbledore said out loud to a quiet office. "I am still right here." He said, growing determined.

"Hey, Sirius!" Harry chimed into the fireplace. It had been particularly hard to find a fireplace. The Gryffindor tower had a party in full swing, and Harry could not get out of it. For students, it was a moment of triumph and absolute joy. Not only did Harry defeat Voldemort, but he did so bravely, showing a great deal of courage. Nonetheless, he had found one in an abandoned classroom and tried to firecall his godfather.

"Harry! Oh, great Merlin!" Sirius exclaimed. "I heard your fight on the wireless, and oh boy, how you performed!" Sirius continued, "Of course, Dumbledore said nothing would happen to you, but it's Voldemort that we are talking about. It was - Ah! I can't believe I missed something as epic as that."

"Hey, Sirius!" Harry said again. "Can we meet in like an hour? I need a new wand. Why don't we go together? I'll tell you all about it when we meet?"

The hug was as warm as Harry had felt it the first time. The Grimmauld place was as dreary as Harry had come to know the first time. Harry was familiar with nostalgia. He was literally living in nostalgia. Harry let go of the hug and looked at Sirius, taking in the features. The cheekbones stood out, emphasized by the sunken eyes and the paleness of the skin. But the grey eyes expressed an emotional depth that can only come from knowing real suffering. Harry's face relaxed, and so did his body.

"Good to see you again, Sirius," Harry said quietly. Sirius acknowledged it and grew uncomfortable.

"You just saw me an hour ago, Harry!" Sirius laughed it off. "Let's get going!"

"Wait. You're still a wanted man." Harry replied quickly.

"I know the women want this, Harry!" Sirius posed with his arms wide.

"Yeah. Amelia Bones would love to have a piece of you." Harry smirked.

"Ohh… She's a beauty! Back during the fourth year, me and James…" Sirius continued, and Harry focused on drawing runes on the floor. He hesitated a bit, deciding if he should add a bit of blood but ultimately decided not to. Harry knew Sirius was touchy with anything "Dark," and he didn't want the trip, which may be the last time he saw his godfather end on an unpleasant note.

"... and you know what Amelia said to me?" Sirius continued on, lost in the memories he had so cherished.

"Sirius, stand here for a bit." Harry interrupted.

"Ohh. I recognize some of these runes. Lily was really good at this, you know!" Sirius walked towards the middle of the parchment paper circle.

Harry clasped his hand, and the ink on the paper flashed.

"I don't look any different," Sirius said, looking at his hands. "Yeah. You'll look the same to me, and I'll see the same. For anyone else, they'll all see a different person."

"You are full of mysteries, Harry."

Harry snorted and replied back, "The only thing that's a mystery is how your hair is still so silky and black after all the time you've spent in Azkaban." Sirius gave a hearty laugh.

"You think that's why Snivillus was so upset to see me last year?"

It was Harry's turn to laugh out loud. "Let's go!"

"I'll be with you shortly, Mr. Potter," Olivandar said as he dealt with a customer. The customer in question turned quickly and lost composure. The wand clanked on the floor, and Olivandar closed his eyes as he felt the hurt of damaging something so precious.

"Th-thank you for… erm…" The lady customer said as she hurriedly picked up a new wand.

"My lady, it was my duty!" Harry bowed deeply. The customer curtseyed and exited the shop.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter and friend of Harry Potter?" Olivander questioned.

"A trusted friend, Mr. Olivander," Sirius replied smugly.

"As you know," Harry started quickly, "my wand is all but burned out. I need a new wand."

"May I suggest an option, Mr. Ollivander?" Harry inquired politely. Several cases were on the table with a little match with Harry.

"Sure, Sure!" Ollivander said with excitement. It seems Ollivander liked tricky customers. Harry imagined it gave him a sense of novelty when everything was somewhat predictable.

"Do you have a wand with Elder wood?"

Ollivander jerked and swiveled his head around to look intensely at Harry.

"The connection between a wand and a wizard is singular, Mr. Potter. I always aim a bottom-up approach where the wood and wand core give me an indication of a wizard natural inclination. Nonetheless, presenting a wand with Elder wood would be the very last option, as you know, there is a famous saying, "Wand of Elder, never prosper."

"You're missing the last part," Harry replied, searching his memory.

"Wand of Elder, never prosper.

Core of Thestral, always improper.

But thestral elder when together?

May be greater than each other."

"Do you have a preference for a core then too, Mr. Potter?" Ollivander blinked, still trying to process the poem.

"I have indeed." Harry said as he smoothly took out a vial containing black thestral hair."

After the wand, Sirius and I went to have ice-cream. It is crazy how much attention Sirius pays to me. Past-Harry would've felt so good to finally have someone like that in these years. For me, I felt sad for the bloke. Sirius is incredibly lost. I don't think he has imagined a life for himself. In many ways, he's the boy who had the time of his life at Hogwarts and nothing after. He looked so uncomfortable when I casually suggested that he think about wanting to settle down and have kids. I would love to see that. A happy Sirius with a family and someone that makes a man out of him. I hope he finds that.

"It's good to see you once again, Harry," Gellert said as he took a seat near the fireplace.

"English winter tires me. It's nice that you have a fireplace, Harry." Madam Mistral said.

"Nothing like drinking hot chocolate near a fireplace." Harry readily agreed. The pleasant company was interrupted by a loud bang, signifying apparition. Lord Voldemort casually walked into the room and sat at an empty chair. Harry suppressed a yawn as he grew a bit alert. There was awkward silence all around, and no one took it well.

"So, Harry. Any plans after this tournament?" Gellert Grindelwald asked lightly.

"I dunno Geller." Harry's lips curled, "I'm thinking about taking over the whole world. Are you interested?"

"The usual areas of conquest?" Mistral asked politely, looking at Harry and Gellert.

"I take Europe, Mistral, you take Africa, and you take Britain?" Gellert smiled as he looked at Harry and Mistral.

"And you can take the Hogwarts if you can." Harry kept his tone light as he faced Voldemort. Lord Voldemort's expression did not change as he maintained the calm, composed expression on his face. He was used to being at the top of the chain, and with Dumbledore at the helm, he truly believed that he would eventually triumph. But here, when everyone was at least his equal, and he did not understand how to act.

"Hogwarts is a nice castle," Mistral said wistfully. "I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my time drinking wine and studying magic." Her lips curled with distaste as she added, "Hogwarts would benefit from some mechanization. I, for one, would be willing to bear this dreadful weather to teach and study at Hogwarts."

"Whatever do you mean, Madam Mistral?" Harry asked innocently. "The weather here is top-notch. I wouldn't' have it any other way." Harry replied amusedly. He was somewhat relieved if Mistral truly no longer had the dark ambitions at heart.

"I do miss studying magic," Gellert said mournfully. "It is not just a simple tool, ja. It is another dimension of life. How can a wizard sit idly, content in mediocrity when the very blood and soul can be explored with the aid of magic." Harry saw a deep conviction in what Gellert had said. His beliefs laid bare unafraid of any criticisms.

"There was a lot of progress in ward building and maintaining the Statute of Secrecy. For the moment, is it not true that we triumph over muggles?" Lord Voldemort said. He looked at everyone, trying to judge their response.

"Yeah. But it won't stay that way." Harry said sadly. "They are making progress in all areas of life. Soon, they shall embark on creating a surveillance state." Harry was speaking from experience here. They will catch a few instances of magic, sooner or later." The last time, the war had been over, and all efforts were then directed to overcome the problem of getting found out. Harry did not know what happened, but he knew that the secrecy statue had been preserved eighty years down the line.

Gellert took a deep sigh. "This is circular reasoning with no final solution." He paused for a while and looked physically pained as he said the next part.

"We three have tried in our own twisted way to push the wizarding world further." Gellert took a swig of whiskey that he added in hot chocolate as he paused to savor the taste. "And we have failed. No matter how many dark lords choose to shape the world in their image, they appear to be thwarted every time. I mean, you fell at the hands of a baby." Gellert said to Voldemort.

"But with us three...four?" Mistral continued, cautious.

"I do not believe so," Gellert said decisively.

"Not interested in combining forces, you mean?" Voldemort said, recovering from a grimace.

"No. I mean, we will not succeed even if we combine forces. There is a force." Gellert said, holding his hand parallel to the earth. "The equalizes everything. As we take, something will take from us."

There was a lull in the room, with the three occupants disagreeing with Gellert in silence. At the same time, there appeared to be some truth in how Gellert had framed the problem.

"So, I ask you Harry," Gellert said, turning serious. "Since you put us in the tournament, what is to be done? What is to become?"

Harry moistened his lips and replied cautiously.

"What do you know about space travel?"

A/N: Writing Voldemort with other characters who are their equal is hard. I've tried to develop Voldemort in previous chapters where he looks saner and uses higher "psychopathic skills" than just rage and destruction. Anyways, I'll post the next chapter in a week or two and it should complete the tri-wizard tournament. Can you guess the direction am I taking this forward? Leave a review on your way out!