Plot: A mistake was made with the Dark Lord's resurrection ritual and now he has to deal with the consequences of being reborn in Harry Potter's body. However, he soon realizes that not only does he find himself in a more attractive body but he now has the ability to take Hogwarts and the wizarding world from within… and maybe, just maybe, a chance at love. SLASH (DL as HP)/SS

AND it will be SLASH

"Speech"

'Internal thoughts'

Reviews/suggestions would be much appreciated to help get this off the ground.

Here is my disclaimer that says I do not own anything Harry Potter related. Everything belongs to JK Rowling, except in universe 47837. Probably.

"On three, right?" Harry said.

Cedric looked to Harry with an excited and determined look on his face and then nodded.

"One – two – three –"

At the same time both of them curled a hand around the opposing silver handles of the Triwizard Cup.

For one brief second neither could believe that they had done it, that they had won the tournament. However, before either had the chance to bask in their triumph, both felt their hand seize around the handle and then felt a hard pull at the navel. The maze soon flashed before their eyes and then their world turned upside down.

A second later and they disappeared.

Harry's feet were the first thing to slam into the ground when he reappeared. The force of the impact caused his injured leg to give way, and he fell forward. His hand was finally released from the cup when he instinctively threw both his arms out in front of himself to slow his fall.

Apparently Cedric had a similar experience and Harry watched as the cup flew out of the older boy's hand too, bouncing several times before coming to a stop next to a large bush.

Cedric then turned to Harry.

"Where are we?" he said.

Harry didn't have an answer for him.

Slowly Cedric got to his feet and then helped Harry do the same.

Wherever they were it was clear that a Portkey had taken them there. Each looked at the cup and then at each other.

"Is this supposed to be part of the task?" Cedric asked while taking in the sight of the graveyard around him.

It was most definitely eerie.

"Dunno," Harry said.

A strange feeling began to grow in his stomach.

"Wands out I suppose," Harry's nervous voice sounded.

"Yeah," Cedric agreed shakily.

With their wands drawn they moved forward. Harry's eyes kept darting to the sides; for some reason he was sure that they were being watched.

A second later and his instincts were proven correct.

"Someone's coming!" he hissed suddenly.

Cedric narrowed his eyes to try and make out the dark shape in the distance. Whoever – or whatever – it was began to quickly weave in and out of the graves as it made its way closer to them.

It was still too dark to make out a face but the outline of the body suggested that it was carrying something. As the dark shape got closer both boy's became momentarily convinced that whatever was being held was an infant.

The boys shared a quick look of confusion, but when Harry turned away to focus again on the faceless individual his scar erupted with a pain he had never known before.

At once his body became nearly paralyzed as the agony overtook him, and he dropped to his knees because his body was no longer able to stand.

His wand fell, abandoned to the grass while his hands flew to his scar.

Cedric's heart began to race with fear, but when his body finally came out of his stupor to go to Harry's aid he heard the most unnatural sound.

"Kill the spare!"

The cold voice chilled Cedric to his very core and his body froze. Time slowed down as Cedric turned his face just in time to see a blast of sickly green light leave a wand.

A wand that was pointed directly at him.

His entire life passed shortly before his eyes as death soon took him and Cedric Diggory knew no more.

His body crumbled to the ground.

Harry was barely conscious of the large thud to his right; his scar felt like molten lava had been pored inside. After retching once, the pain lessoned enough for him to take stock of his surroundings.

His eyes had just connected with the dull, lifeless stare of Cedric when the hairs on the back of his neck stuck upright.

"Capture him!" a sickly but familiar voice then commanded.

Before Harry could place whose voice that belong to, a burst of magic hit his body and Harry was helpless to prevent the unseen force that moved quickly to secure his frame to the stone statue that was directly behind him.

While Harry struggled against his invisible bonds, he heard that voice again.

"Well done, Wormtail. Now, prepare for the ritual; I am growing impatient and have waited long enough to regain my body!"

Only this time, Harry's heart nearly stopped in his chest because he now knew both whom and what he was dealing with.

"Of course, master," Wormtail responded in a groveling tone.

The outline of Peter Pettigrew was now more visible to Harry, and a sudden disgust at the sight of the man's shape rose within his chest.

"You traitor!" Harry shouted at the man.

Focusing on Pettigrew was easier than recognizing just how screwed he was considering the other person that was there.

But Wormtail wasn't listening, his wand had quickly gone to work and soon a large cauldron had appeared among the tombstones.

Seconds later, a great fire was lit around the copper base and it illuminated the area of the cemetery that they were in.

There was now enough light for Harry to finally be able to look into the man's rat-like face.

"I should have let Sirius kill you when he had the chance!" Harry seethed.

"Harry!" the high, chilly voice said.

There was a touch of amusement in it.

"Such a serious statement from Dumbledore's golden boy. Tsk! Tsk! You should know that killing is my specialty," the cold voice chided with glee.

Voldemort's distinctive voice sent an icy chill down Harry's spine, and he was now forced to confront the man who had made him the Boy Who Lived.

Except that Harry couldn't find his own voice, he was paralyzed with fear.

"Well, Wormtail? Are you finished yet?" the weakened Dark Lord called out again. He was impatient and wanted to get on with things.

"Nearly, master," Wormtail whimpered.

It was obvious in both his voice and his shaking form that Pettigrew was fearful of failing the Dark Lord and he did not want to make a mistake. Not after what had happened the last time.

Finally, thought, the preparations were finished, and Wormtail called out to his master.

"It is ready, my lord."

"Finally…"

He had been without a body for much too long.

Long enough that he ignored the humiliation that came with Wormtail removing his robes to reveal his pail and hairless form. He saw the horror and revolt pass across Potter's features, giving way to a disgusted expression.

The Dark Lord consoled himself with knowing that soon he would have his body back, and shortly thereafter the Potter brat would be begging him for death.

Voldemort continued to sneer at the boy while his barely human form was being lowered into the bubbling cauldron, and he hissed as his head dipped below the surface.

However, they had taken the necessary ritualistic precautions and the scalding water did not harm his body.

He sank to the bottom, and waited for the remaining ingredients to join him.

The sound was somewhat muffled but the Dark Lord was still able to make out Wormtail's voice.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

His lips curled up as he felt the power of his pathetic father's bones enter the cauldron. The bones would help to stabilize the severely caustic ingredients to follow.

Shortly thereafter, Voldemort heard Pettigrew make the next incantation.

"Blood – of the servant – w-willingly given – you will – revive – your master."

His blood ran cold.

'What, what did he say? Blood of the servant? That imbecile! No! Noooooo!'

The Dark Lord's internal screams and hand gestures did nothing but contribute to the sloshing liquid and sparks that ignited at the surface. He was beyond furious and when he got out of there he would filet Wormtail alive.

If he made it out alive, there was no telling what would happen now.

The Dark Lord shuddered in disgust as he felt Pettigrew's willing donation rapidly dissolve on its way to becoming the binding vehicle that would hold everything together.

Next came the final ingredient and the irate Dark Lord paused in his cursing to hear what the rat did next.

"B-body of the enemy… forcibly taken…you will… resurrect your foe."

The Dark Lord's heart nearly stopped. How could the rat have gotten two out of his three simple instructions so horribly wrong?

He loathed how powerless he was in the moment, how there was absolutely nothing that he could do to prevent Harry's body from joining him.

He had no idea how this would change the potion. Originally, the few drops of Harry's blood was meant to strengthen his body since magic was all about intent, and he believed that taking some of the magical essence of a wizard – against their will – would provide him even more power when he assumed his old form. If he had wanted to rise more terrible than before then there was nothing that would aid him more than using the blood of the child who had been prophesized to have the power to destroy him.

Plus, it would have negated that silly protection that the boy's mother had cast, allowing him to right a serious mistake of his past.

But now, the Dark Lord wondered what would become of him and what form he would take.

From where he sat at the bottom of the cauldron, Lord Voldemort could just make out the boy's screams that stopped abruptly as the potion finally had all of its ingredients.

Immediately, the Dark Lord felt his body being pulled upward to join the amalgamation of blood, flesh, bone, and body.

Once there, however, he was surprised to find how normal, how familiar merging his essence with the dead remains of the boy was. Harry's skin became his skin and the boy's mind gave way to his. The only thing of Harry that lingered was the faintest trace of his magic, the remnants of Lily's protection that was no match for the power of the Dark Lord's restoration potion.

To be honest, the Dark Lord was unprepared for how right this felt; though perhaps a lot of what he was feeling was colored by finally having a body that his magic was able to flow through again.

It was his favorite part about being a wizard. Besides, he had a body back and for now that was the most important thing. For he was Lord Voldemort and if he wasn't satisfied with the situation then he simply found a way to change it. So his anger lessoned, slightly, and seconds later the cauldron exploded outward, sending Pettigrew running behind a tombstone for safety.

As the smoking debris settled, Pettigrew inched his face around the stone to see what had happened, and his breath caught in his throat as he saw the form of Harry Potter standing there.

Only it wasn't the same Harry Potter anymore; there was a certain darkness to the boy and the man's eyes bore straight into his soul. And even though his master didn't have a wand Pettigrew still felt the man's Crucio.

It was because of how angry the Dark Lord was that he could perform this Unforgivable Curse without a wand. Pettigrew had failed him at a time when failure was not an option.

He had made the rat practice the steps a thousand times, and still he had gotten it wrong. For a moment he gave into the desire to cause pain and it gave him time to think about his next moves since all of his plans were now utterly worthless.

Originally, he would have been calling the Death Eaters to him now, to witness and cement his return by killing the Boy Who Lived. Now that was out of the question; he couldn't face them looking like this.

He couldn't face anyone looking like this. They would never see past the face of Harry Potter….

His mind trailed off and so did his focus on the Cruciatus Curse, leaving Wormtail shaking uncontrollably.

Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing depending on how he looked at this most unfortunate event. For example, no one would suspect that the golden boy housed the form of the Dark Lord. If he played this right he could achieve his complete domination over the wizarding world far easier than the take-the-wizarding-world-by-force approach that he had otherwise been planning.

The wizarding public had given Harry that ridiculous title of the Boy Who Lived, and that honor had come with a certain potential amount of public persuasion and power behind it.

The Dark Lord instantly thought through several ideas on how he would wield that type of influence to further his own plans until it was far too late for anyone to realize that Harry Potter wasn't the golden boy that they had thought he would be.

Of course he would need to make a few decisions sooner rather than later seeing as how Harry Potter would need to return to Hogwarts to avert Albus Dumbledore's nosiness from suspecting anything too severe. The man would already question that something had happened considering that Cedric Diggory was dead.

The Dark Lord's thoughts next focused on how he would play this situation to his best advantage.

He knew that he couldn't just play off Cedric's death as a casualty in the maze and then reappear after this length of time with the Triwizard Cup; that would have been most suspicious to Albus.

Nor could he simply return without Cedric Diggory entirely. He also wasn't entertaining the idea of just never returning since the longer he delayed his return to Hogwarts the less useful being Harry would be. No, he had to return to Hogwarts and he needed to do so soon; that much became painfully obvious the longer he stood there.

He just needed to find the right angle to return with.

And then the Dark Lord thought of the most ingenious solution that would explain his tardiness. Of course, he would also have to give some semblance of the truth about the Dark Lord's return. The payoff, however, would be that he could send them on a wild goose chase searching for a fake Dark Lord in all the wrong places of the world. Because the Dark Lord knew that he wouldn't be able to keep his return a secret forever, not with how strong the mark was now on Pettigrew's trembling arm. No, the best thing for him to do was to distract them.

However, while the Dark Lord knew that Dumbledore would believe him, or Harry rather, immediately, the Ministry and the Minister for Magic would never accept the word of a fourteen year-old boy about the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Cornelius was too much of a coward for that.

He would have to sell out Barty Crouch Jr then – and he was more than okay with that to make his story all the more convincing. The man had supposedly died in Azkaban, after all, and he was of no more use to him.

Just thinking about how he could direct everyone's attention was pleasing to him, very pleasing. For Harry Potter would be able to rise through the chaos and make the world just as he, the Dark Lord, preferred it.

Perhaps he would even stage a battle – after killing Dumbledore, of course – to defeat a fake version of the Dark Lord and then slowly implement his true agenda over time until no one recognized anything different. Magic would finally be free and released from the archaic definitions of light or dark magic. Magic was magic and that came before all else.

And the Dark Lord knew that he could do all of this. He had now triumphed over the prophecy and knew that nothing could stand in his way. Now it was all about enjoying his rise to complete and utter wizarding domination.

Like it should have been from the beginning.

His lips curled in a truly terrifying smile that belied the age of its barer. Perhaps Wormtail's mistake hadn't been the worst thing, after all. Still he would make sure that the rat suffered for its incompetence until the very end.

"Wormtail!" he demanded impatiently.

"Enough with your pathetic lying around. Go and fetch my wands: both of them!"

He had infused his voice with magic to draw Pettigrew out of his lazy recovery from his well-deserved punishment and took great pleasure in watching the dirty and broken man crawl across the ground with difficulty.

"H-h-hereee ma-ma-ma-master," he stuttered, shakily handing both the Dark Lord's original wand and Harry's wand to him.

Curiously, both wands felt similar and he knew that Harry's wand would serve him well. It was unexpected but something that he was grateful for since he knew that he could not return to Hogwarts with a wand that Dumbledore would recognize.

"Thank you, Wormtail," the Dark Lord intoned with a devilish grin.

"Your service will never be forgotten."

"My Lord… thank you!" the rat simpered.

"Hold out your injured hand."

Peter did as he was told and with a sudden flick the Dark Lord severed the man's hand off.

The screams were instant.

"I can't have Dumbledore thinking anything other than what I want him too. Just think, if you hadn't failed me, you might have lived. Still, just know that you will be of much use in death."

"Avada Kedavra," he purred in the next moment, feeling the delightful wish of death surge through his own wand.

The rat died with a surprised and terrified expression on his face.

The Dark Lord's last act with his own wand was to dirty Harry's appearance so as to support the tale he would soon tell.

Then, he performed a rather difficult bit of wandless magic to send both Nagini and his own wand to a safe location before fingering Harry's surprisingly responsive wand.

Finally with a last gleam of red shinning in Harry's green eyes, he grabbed onto the dead bodies of Cedric Diggory and Peter Pettigrew and then summoned the Triwizard Cup.

The Dark Lord was returning to Hogwarts.

Well? Would love to know your thoughts. I've settled on a Harry (being possessed by the Dark Lord) and Severus pairing. It will be mostly one-sided and for either the Dark Lord's gain or enjoyment in the beginning, but over time living in Harry's body leads to some unexpected opportunities.