The idea for this fic came to me when I was finishing working on some other works on Hindu mythology. Hope you all you enjoy it.

I have started editing the chapters to make it more interesting for you all.

THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN UPDATED WITH HELP OF HYPERGYM, THE FINEST AMONG MUSES.

Somewhere in the magical mountains of the Himalayas, 1966

Harsh Vardhana, the master of the tribe of mystics was worried. You see, the mystics were wizards. No, no, not the parlor tricks wizards but real wand wielding wizards who can do impossible things with a bunch of words and a stick. Today, Harsh Vardhana was worried because they had encountered a foe so strong that they could not kill him. It had been centuries since they had come across such an abomination of magic. The being who had called himself Voldemort reeked of the vilest form of soul magic, bore the gifts of serpents and came of the magical land of Avalon.

The mystics were assassins whose work was to kill wizards who used magic for nefarious purposes and this Voldemort was one of them. Having duelled him for 2 hours, Harshvardhana had been able to subdue and capture him. During the subsequent interrogation under Veritaserum, he confessed having made not just one of those abominations, but five! Just one transgression against nature was enough to offend mother magic and that base being had made five!

A visit from the seer Varahmihir showed that he would not meet his fate by the hand of any mystic, but his destiny was intertwined with another, who was yet to be born. With no facility to hold him, unable to kill him and knowing full-well the perils of tampering with destiny, the mystics obliviated Voldemort and released him to wander in the wilderness of the Sahara Desert. They heard of him no more, until he turned up, years later, mutilated and vicious, offending mother magic, murdering wizards, witches and muggles. Some because they opposed his will, others just to amuse himself.

The Mystics decided to send a message to one of the most powerful modern wizards, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. They hoped it will not be too late before Albus Dumbedore was able to stop him for the time being and found a way to bring him down.

June 1980, Godrics Hollow

"James, are you sure about it? I mean is it fair to our children that we take away their right to choose their partners, to take away their chance to love? What if they do not like each other?" asked the brown haired man with blue eyes.

"Edgar, I know it is not fair but we are in the middle of a war. We do not know if we will survive. I have no family left and I will not let Harry be raised by Petunia or her husband. As far as muggles go, they are the worst. If we die, Harry will have a family who would love him", replied an exasperated James Potter who had recently wrote a marriage contract for his son and the other man's daughter.

"Lets hope we all survive this war so we can watch our children grow up.", said Lily.

October - November 1980, Magical Britain

Lord Voldemort had been ravaging Magical Britain for a decade and the war was tearing the magical world apart. It was only due to the intervention and courage of Albus Dumbledore and his vaunted Order of the Phoenix that the light side had been able to keep a foothold or magical Britain would have fallen before him. Wizards and witches were dying every day and Voldemort was gaining power. Dumbledore feared that it would not be long before Voldemort would make a move to besiege Hogwarts. Even the wards rumoured to have been erected by Rowena Ravenclaw herself would not last long under the weight of sheer numbers from such an attack. Then what would happen to the children, the future of wizarding kind? Albus feared that the wizarding world stood on the edge of doom and the prophecy made by Sybill foretold that his foe was about to be born which he meant would need years before he would be ready to take down Voldemort. Albus resolved to make it happen.

October, 1981

The mystics decided that it was time for them to intervene before Tom Riddle could bring the ruin of wizard kind. One of their number was dispatched as an emissary to Dumbledore with the information about Voldemort and his horcruxes. But before he made contact, little Harry Potter survived the killing curse and Voldemort disappeared, his power broken. Although they knew that Voldemort was not dead and that he would return, the mystics happily kept their peace. It was not for them to interfere. But still, they decided to keep an eye on events for the coming years and on the life of little Harry Potter.

November 1981, Hogwarts

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office in his rather large armchair, his finger-tips touching, looking over his half-moon spectacles at the young man sitting on the other side of the desk. Severus Snape had made some bad decisions in his life and Dumbledore knew he would be haunted by the consequences, but he knew that Tom Riddle was not finished and that he would need Snape when Voldemort returned.

Severus raised his head and said in a hoarse whisper, "What will become of Potter, Dumbledore? The dark lord will return and he will be in mortal peril. How will we keep him safe?"

"Severus, We have hidden him in the muggle world, with his aunt behind the blood wards. He will be safe there as long as he can call it home or until he comes of age. I have hope that Mr. Potter will find love there and have a happy life.", Dumbledore replied. "They are his only living relatives. It is the best that we can do."

1991, Hogwarts

Ron Weasley was Harry's best and first friend. Who would have believed that before he came to Hogwarts, the famous Harry Potter had no idea who he was to the wizarding world and that his cousin, Dudley had seen to it that nobody would be Harry's friend. Ever since that day on the train, when people realized who Harry was, there were gawkers, groupies and, believe it or not, people who wished Harry harm. Ron kept them all away. Of course, there was Hermione Granger. She was buck-toothed, bushy-haired, bossy and annoying. But, being muggle born, she was no groupie and being the smartest person in their year, she was also handy with the homework, so Ron didn't drive her away.

With a careful combination of maneuvers and tactless remarks, Ron managed to keep most of the groupies and gawkers away. Even Neville Longbottom with his story about being Harry's god-brother was told to keep his mouth shut or suffer the consequences. The five of them may be room-mates, but only Ron really basked in the reflected glory that came from being Harry's bestie.

Then there was that girl from Hufflepuff who kept trying to talk to Harry. Really, what does a girl from another house want with him. For most of them, one tactless remark about the quidditch team they support or the way they wear their hair would do it, but this one kept coming back for more. As the Gryffindors were making their way from Herbology, which they took with the Hufflepuffs, to potions, which they took with the Slytherins and Prof. Snape, a girl called out, "Harry!"

He turned and saw a girl with strawberry blond hair tied in pony tails and blue eyes wearing the colours of Hufflepuff jogging toward him along side of another girl with dark hair.

"Hi Harry, I am Susan Bones and this is Hannah Abbott. Can I talk to you for a minute?", asked Susan quickly and shyly.

Ron huffed out," We have potions with that slimy git Snape next. We don't want him giving us detention for being late."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's rudeness, while Harry rounded on Ron and growled, "I can speak for myself Ron. She wasn't talking to you."

Susan flushed a bit and looking down said, "It's ok Harry. I will see you later.", then she ran off with Hannah to catch up with the other Hufflepuffs on their way to defense against the dark arts.

Over the next few years, Susan kept coming back to befriend Harry but Ron made sure that she could never reach him. He joined Harry at the waist, shared in all his adventures and kept others way from Harry anyway he could. Harry was his best mate and no one else's.

January 1995, Hogwarts

Dumbledore was sitting in his office behind his desk, immersed in paper-work, looking for the funds to keep the school running, when the wards flared telling him of an unauthorised apparition in the castle. But as young Miss Granger so often reminded her friends, it was not possible to apparate anywhere in the school grounds. Albus drew the elder wand and with a quick tap the Head Master's Map, similar to the Marauder's Map, but a bit more sophisticated, showed that the intruder was in front of the gargoyle guarding the entry to the moving spiral stairs to his office and giving the correct password. But, who ever it was had managed to confound the map so that no name was showing. What's more, the anti-apparition charm had not been lifted or dispelled. it had simply been bypassed.

Albus was getting tired of paper-work anyway. Friend or foe, this visitor was a welcome diversion. As the gargoyle admitted the visitor, Albus flicked his wand and cleared away the paperwork and the map. While the moving spiral stairs sprang into motion, another flick of the wand conjured one of Albus's favorite poufy chintz chairs. While the stairs carried the visitor upward, a more complicated flourish of the wand conjured two tumblers and a bottle of Madam Rosmerta's finest, oak matured mead. Then for a finishing touch, one more wave of the wand opened the office door just as the visitor raised his hand to use the knocker.

One powerful stride carried the man over the threshold. He was deeply tanned with dark brown eyes and his black hair in a braid that went right down his back. He held a rather unusual looking wand out with his well muscled right arm. Magical power, strength and vitality vibrated from every inch of his six foot frame. It was not lost on Dumbledore that even with the elder wand, this man may be more than his match. In one quick glance, the visitor took in the entire office, including the fact that the elder wand was ready and not quite pointing at him.

Dumbledore reflected that he had only encountered such power three times in his entire 130 years. One was his old friend Gellert Grindlewald. Another was Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort. And the third being this stranger. But, try as he might, Albus was sure that he had never met nor heard of this man before. A closer inspection of the stranger's wand showed that it was both thicker and longer than most. It was made of a wood not familiar to Albus and covered with runes in a language that was not one of the seven taught at Hogwarts. The man made his way to the freshly conjured chair and sitting, made himself comfortable.

"May I offer you some of Madam Rosmerta's finest?", asked Dumbledore as he began to pour.

"I will decline, hopefully without offense, young Albus.", the stranger purred, in a deep melodic voice, as he produced a flask from within his robes.

"You have the advantage of me sir.", said Albus, "Just who are you? And how did you come to be here anyway?"

"Trouble not yourself with such trifles, young holder of The Elder Wand, I may enter and leave Nurmengard at will. And this," he said gesturing to the grounds and castle, "this is only a school."

Well, thought Albus, if this man could waltz in and out of the most heavily guarded place on earth, certainly Hogwarts did not present much of a challenge.

Albus was taken aback by the stranger's presumptuous manners and his identification of the Elder wand. There were very few who even believed in its existence and a small handful that could identify it on sight, the only two in all of Britain being Garrick Ollivander and himself.

He said in his most carefree tone "So, you know this wand." Then, Dumbledore thinking that he may gain some clue to this stranger's identity inquired, "May I enquire, the composition of your own wand?"

"This, my boy,", he said gesturing with his own wand, "has a core of Ganda Berunda feather and is carved from the seasoned wood of the sacred Amaltas. It is 15 inches in length and the runes are in ancient Sanskrit. It serves me well."

Wands like that, Dumbledore thought, are not common and, certainly are not made in Britain. Perhaps a test of this man's skill and intention is in order. Faster than thought, more subtle than the faintest twitch, Dumbledore tried a disarming spell while the visitor appeared to be distracted, focused on his own wand, but he casually batted it aside leaving Albus flustered.

"Albus, this is old trick. I never fell for it. Now, be a good boy and behave.", he cooed.

June 1996, Little Hangleton Graveyard

Harry Potter knew that he was dying, bleeding from the fresh wound in his arm, the spider venom in the wound on his leg working its way through his system, the scar on his forehead feeling like his head was going to explode and the sickening weakness in the aftermath from the cruciactus curse. The port key had carried him and Cedric to the graveyard where Wormtail had murdered Cedric before Harry's eyes, simply for being there. Then used Harry's blood to bring Voldemort back to life. When the death eaters had assembled, the resurrected Voldemort had ordered Wormtail to return Harry's wand to him and they duelled. Things did not all go the dark lord's way however, Harry resisted the imperious curse, then the power of the twin cores and Harry's own unsullied soul forced Voldemort's wand to give up the shades of his more recent murder victims. For the first time in his life, he was able to speak with his mother and father. With all that he had endured and the prospect of being with his own loving mother and father again, Harry thought that maybe dying would not be so bad.

Harry had time to think about how he had suffered at the hands of the Dursleys. Even a house elf would have been appalled with such treatment. Dumbledore had left him there for ten years without even bothering to check on him. He thought about how his best friend, Ron had turned against him when he thought that Harry had put his own name in for the Tri-Wizard tournament without bothering to tell Ron how he did it. He felt ashamed that he had not bothered to contact Remus during his fourth year at Hogwarts. Leaving all the pain and suffering and shame behind would be a relief.

But then he began to think about leaving his god-father, Sirius being left alone in the world. The man who had risked everything to come to the aid of his god-son, who had endured 12 years in Azkaban for a crime he did not commit, who had become a fugitive and lived in caves to be there when Harry needed him. He thought about his best friends, Ron and Hermione How they had been there for him through all those unbelievable adventures and how lost and devastated they would be without him. And finally how his own mother and father had died that he might live. a different thought resonated in is conscious. 'NO! He would not die here!

With a deliberate effort of will, Harry lifted his wand with both hands. Once the contact of the wands was broken, the shades distracted Voldemort so that Harry could escape. The last request that Cedric's shade made was for Harry to take his body back to his parents. A request that Harry felt honour-bound to carry out. In the darkness and the confusion, Harry took his best guess as to where Cedric's body and the Tri-Wizard cup lay and ran for it.

As he dodged curses and hexes, weaving his way through the grave markers, a stray killing curse disintegrated his wand. The destruction of his wand felt like losing his right arm. The holly and phoenix feather had protected him and been a part of him. He felt his heart break with the loss.

As he dodged yet another crimson curse, he bowled over a short, pudgy death eater who yelped as they hit the ground in a tangle of limbs and robes. Harry recognized the traitor Wormtail and interrupted the "Incar..."*Ghack!", by kneeing Wormtail hard in the groin and wrenching the wand from the silver hand. In the moment that it took Voldemort and his death eaters to realize where Harry had gone and re-aim their wands, with a strong possibility of hitting Wormtail, Harry did not hesitate nor did he even consider trying to get to his feet. In one swift motion he used the pilfered wand and stunned Wormtail, summoned Cedric's body and summoned the Triwizard Cup, "Stupefy! Accio! Accio!". In the very same moment that the cup touched Harry's outstretched hand and he began to feel the familiar tug behind his navel, there was a rushing roar accompanied by the flash of green light and Harry knew no more.

Three bodies and the cup landed with a heavy thud and a clatter in front of the judges stand. The band began to play and the crowd went wild as they supposed that the winner of the Tri-Wizard tournament had emerged from the maze. But the band stopped playing and the cheers turned to screams of shock and dismay as they realized that none of the bodies were moving. Two of them were Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory, but who was this third one, the short pudgy one with the silver hand? Not everyone in the crowds knew him. Those who recognised him from the distance, were shocked. "Peter Pettigrew was supposed to have died over 13 years ago at the hands of Sirius Black!"

Fudge, pale as a ghost, dithered while Albus ran to the aid of the fallen champions. Padfoot recognizing Wormtail, charged over to tear him limb-from-limb. But before Padfoot could reach him, Alastor fired a dark cutting curse, which was countered with another yellow light and followed-up with a bludgeoning hex at Alastor knocking him out and finishing with the body-bind curse.

Fudge, his face purple, found his voice and bellowed, "Albus, what is happening? Who is this man? Is this some kind of sick joke?"

"This is no joke Cornelius, we will know in a minute. For now, I believe we need to interrogate this man before the dog kills him.", saying this, he raised his wand and stunned the dog. Then he bound Wormtail with an anti animagus jinx and beckoned Severus to watch him.

The moment Severus laid eyes on the dark magic masquerading as a hand attached to Wormtail's wrist, he recognized it for what it was. "Albus," he whispered, " I recognize this magic. The Dark Lord is back."

Albus then approached the new healer trainee who was standing menacingly over the stunned and bound Moody. Albus opened his mouth to ask something when he saw Moody begin to transform. The scars on his face and body vanished. His Claw-foot wooden leg fell off and hit the ground with a clunk as a leg of flesh and bone replaced it. the magical eye popped out and a natural one replaced it. The grizzled gray mane smoothed and darkened to a full head of sandy hairs. In the place of Alastor (Mad Eye) Moody was a much younger man with aristocratic features. Dumbledore recognizing him as Barty Crouch Junior, a man who was supposed to have died in Azkaban over 12 years ago, realizing that he had to think fast to secure him before Fudge blew his lid and did something stupid and permanent which would put everyone in mortal peril. He noticed Amelia Bones, the head of DMLE in the crowd, who was rushing towards him, anger etched in every line of her body and a scowl on her face.

He observed that Madam Pomfrey was taking a comatose Harry Potter in a Conjured stretcher to the infirmary while the Diggorys were crying over the body of young Cedric, clutching him. The scene tore at Albus's heart. Things were beginning, just like the last war. And perhaps Voldemort had risen again, but he needed proof. And the only reliable witness was on his way to the infirmary and in a coma. Here were two less reliable witnesses, only stunned, but they would require some persuasion before they would divulge anything useful.

Without preamble, Amelia launched into her interrogation, "Albus, what is happening? How is it that Peter Pettigrew is alive? And what happened to Mr. Potter and Mr. Diggory? I demand an explana...' her words were caught in her throat as she recognized the impostor Moody, "Barty Crouch Junior! But Albus, he was supposed to have died in Azkaban. How can he be alive?"

Dumbledore hurriedly whispered to her, "Amelia, I cannot explain everything right now. Just keep Cornelius from finding out about Barty Crouch Junior for the time being and take Pettigrew into your custody before our minister gets them killed. I fear that in his idiocy he may perpetrate our doom."

Nodding her head reluctantly, she barked orders to two of her Aurors to disillusion Barty Crouch Junior and move him to one of the safe houses. She was proceeding to secure Pettigrew when she saw Fudge summoning two dementors. Hastily going to him she snapped, "Cornelius! What do you think you are doing? You cannot bring those infernal monsters in here!"

Fudge blustered, "Amelia, I remind you that while you are the head of the DMLE, I am the minister and I will have you sacked if you don't stand aside and let me deal with this my way!"

Fudge, the idiot, thought Amelia, if he wants to throw his weight around, it is time that I reminded him of the law and what the name of Bones really means. With a casual flick, two patroni erupted from her wand and drove off the dementors. Then, commanding Fudge's attention with a rock-hard glare, she began in a calm and measured tone, "Mr. Cornelius Fudge, this is an ongoing investigation. Minister or not, if you attempt to interfere again, I will arrest you for obstruction. And, if you threaten me again, I will employ my position and seats as the regent of the Ancient and Most Noble house of Bones and you will be out of office before you can say, 'Non-confidence motion.'"

Fudge could say nothing but only gasp in shock at her.

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