GAMES OF FATES (H.P/T.M.R)

a shocking discovery

Cassopiea Victoria Potter, known as Pia to her close friends, lay in her small bedroom at Number Four, Privet Drive. The oppressive summer heat made the air thick and heavy, and she felt sicker than ever. Since the traumatic events in the graveyard just a few weeks ago, her body hadn't felt quite right. The nightmares of Voldemort's return and Cedric's death haunted her every night, but it was the constant nausea and fatigue that worried her now.

"Pia, get down here this instant!" Aunt Petunia's shrill voice pierced through the haze of her discomfort. "You're not lying about being sick just to avoid chores, are you?"

Pia groaned and forced herself to get up. Her aunt's voice echoed through the house again, sharper this time, and Pia knew better than to ignore it. As she descended the stairs, her vision blurred slightly, and she had to steady herself on the banister.

Petunia was waiting for her in the kitchen, her lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. "You're looking pale," she said, her eyes scanning Pia with a mixture of disdain and curiosity. "If you're really that ill, we'll have to take you to the doctor. I won't have you spreading your germs everywhere."

Pia nodded weakly, grateful for a chance to get out of the house, even if it was just to the doctor. She had been trying to keep her condition hidden, but it was getting harder every day. Maybe a doctor could tell her what was wrong.

The drive to the clinic was silent, save for the occasional sniff from Aunt Petunia, who seemed to be holding her breath in an effort to avoid catching whatever ailment Pia might have. Once there, they were ushered into a sterile room where a doctor began his examination.

"Miss Potter, can you describe your symptoms?" the doctor asked, looking at Pia with a concerned expression.

 "Um, I've been feeling really tired, nauseous, and I've been getting dizzy spells," Pia explained, her voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor nodded thoughtfully, running through a series of routine checks. "We'll need to run some tests to be sure," he said after a few moments. "It could be any number of things."

Pia lay back on the examination table, staring at the ceiling as the doctor drew blood and asked more questions. The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity. Finally, the doctor returned, his expression more serious than before.

 "Miss Potter," he began slowly, "I have some news that might come as a shock to you. The tests indicate that you are pregnant."

 The word hung in the air like a thunderclap. Pia's heart pounded in her chest, and she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. Pregnant? How could that be? The memories of that night with Cedric flooded back, their closeness and the brief moment of solace they had found in each other before everything had gone wrong.

Aunt Petunia's face twisted into a mask of horror and fury. "Pregnant? How could you be so irresponsible, girl? This is disgraceful!"

Pia felt tears welling up in her eyes. She hadn't meant for any of this to happen. She had been through so much already, and now this?

The doctor cleared his throat, trying to maintain a professional demeanor. "We'll need to discuss your options moving forward, Miss Potter. You're still early in the pregnancy, but it's important to make decisions soon."

 Pia nodded numbly, her mind racing. How could she navigate this new challenge? How could she protect her unborn child from the dangers that lay ahead, especially with Voldemort back?

 As they left the clinic, Cassopiea could not comprehend what was going on with her. First, she lost her boyfriend, Cedric Diggory, in the graveyard. Then, her blood was used to revive Voldemort, the murderer of her parents. As if that wasn't enough, she was tied down and tortured, her clothes ripped due to the violent events. Grown men, Death Eaters, watched her being tortured, laughing at her pain. She never understood why she felt pain that day; normally, her magic would protect her, shutting down her senses and allowing her to heal without feeling the agony. But now, she understood: her magic had been protecting her child. 

  She had not only lost her love, but her child had lost its father. Throughout all these horrors, Cassopiea had never cried. But this revelation broke her. Her tears wouldn't stop, and before she knew it, she was having a mental breakdown. 

  The weight of her trauma and the revelation of her pregnancy bore down on her like a suffocating blanket. Her sobs echoed in the small room, each one a release of the pent-up anguish and despair. Pia’s hands trembled as she clutched her abdomen, feeling the faint flutter of life within her. She was not alone; she had a part of Cedric with her, but the realization also brought a new wave of sorrow. How would she protect this child in a world so fraught with danger?

She couldn't see a way forward. The wizarding world was on the brink of chaos, with Voldemort's return plunging it into darkness. She was caught in a web of political intrigue and impending war, and now she had to think of her unborn child. Cassopiea knew she had to find strength within herself, not just for her sake, but for the child she carried.

 ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Voldemort, freshly emerged from the high of his resurrection, found solace in the luxurious study of Malfoy Manor. Over the past weeks, he had painstakingly reclaimed his former self, recognizing the folly of creating too many Horcruxes. His recent studies of ancient soul magic, gleaned from Egyptian tomes, had led him to a powerful ritual. This ritual allowed him to reabsorb his Horcruxes, a process that was both enlightening and unnerving.

 First, he absorbed Helga Hufflepuff's cup, which Narcissa had procured from the Lestrange vault. Then, to his astonishment, the diary—his very first Horcrux—returned to him autonomously. This phenomenon could only occur if the soul container was destroyed yet the soul fragment endured. It had endured because it was stabbed with a basilisk fang, and as a Parselmouth, he was immune to the venom. Lucius had suffered for his failure to protect the diary, enduring days of Cruciatus Curse-induced agony for allowing it to fall into the hands of an eleven-year-old friend of the Potter girl.

  In the present moment, Voldemort—who now preferred to be called Marvolo—sat at a grand oak desk, bewildered by the onslaught of alien emotions. Suspense, outrage, shock, denial, and a profound mental breakdown flooded his mind, making him feel like he was teetering on the brink of madness. He ran his hands through his wavy brown hair, a gesture that felt both foreign and familiar. The sensation of having hair and a nose again was almost surreal. He glanced at his reflection in the ornate mirror across the room, admiring the visage that stared back at him.

 His appearance now mirrored that of his early thirties, a time when he had been traveling the world in search of power and knowledge. His face was sharp and aristocratic, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline. His eyes, a striking shade of deep red, glowed with an inner fire. His hair, dark and wavy, framed his face in an almost regal manner. The restoration of his appearance was both a reminder of his former glory and a promise of the power he was reclaiming.

 Marvolo sighed and attempted to return to his paperwork, but the invasive emotions persisted. He felt Nagini, his beloved familiar, slither up his shoulders, her presence a comforting yet insufficient balm for his inner turmoil. What were these strange sensations, and why did they feel so vivid and real? He had never experienced anything like this before.

 Closing his eyes, Marvolo concentrated, trying to unravel the mystery of these foreign emotions. Could they be linked to one of his Horcruxes? The diary had returned to him, but perhaps there was more to this connection. As he delved deeper, he sensed a link to a distant place, tied to his past and to the Potter girl.

Realization struck him like a lightning bolt. These were Cassopiea Victoria Potter's emotions. Somehow, their fates were intertwined, and he was experiencing her turmoil. He blinked in shock before summoning more books and tomes, determined to get to the bottom of this connection.