My Self - Insert Stash

-This plot has everything I ever wanted for a SI Voldemort fanfic. Check it out~~

*Fic is originally in Russian, this is the English translation!

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Sypnosis: A genre savvy but ignorant of canon OC insert into Voldemort right after the murder of James Potter. Greed replacing pride at the helm of a terrorist group just might change the course of history. After all, the magical world is full of potential waiting to be exploited. (Inspired by The Evil Overlord List and 48 Laws of Power.)

Rated: M(still SFW)

Words: 288K

Posted on: fanfiction.net/s/12980210/1/I-Am-Lord-Voldemort (Spectralroses)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1+2 (exceptional)

Russian original at ficbook: /readfic/5773773

Updates every 1-2 weeks.

Notes and warnings:

-The protagonist is an OOC, more sensible version of Voldemort inspired by The Evil Overlord List and Robert Greene's 48 Laws of Power. He is still an irredeemable villain and a terrorist.

-The magic system is slightly changed from canon.

-Actions and opinions of the characters do not reflect the author's views.

-All characters are limited to their respective POVs: they can be mistaken about facts, exaggerate, lie shamelessly or hold delusional beliefs. Voldemort is an unreliable narrator.

-The pairing is not central to the story and only comes into play after 200k+ words.

-Content warnings: torture, murder, human experimentation, human sacrifice, character deaths, canon bigotry, all manner of manipulation.

The Potters' Home

I was having a strange dream: I'm standing in some room, wearing a robe and pointing a wooden stick at a corpse. My entire body itches. Skin feels like melting wax. The insides feel like icebergs crashing into one another. The absurdity of it all is too much, so I laugh. But the sound that comes out almost makes me faint: any super villain would sell his soul for this laugh. I realize this is not my voice and run to the mirror. The face staring back isn't mine either. My body is slowly shifting from something humanoid to a human only vaguely resembling me. It feels as if pieces are melding together inside me. Then comes the pain. I fall to my knees and scream. But it vanishes after a short moment, leaving behind only a headache. And I realize this is not a dream...

I am Lord Voldemort! Well, not exactly. Foreign memories flooded my mind. Tom Riddle, also known as Voldemort, tried many methods to achieve immortality and modify his body. It turned out some of them did not play nice together- for example, horcruxes and implanting fragments of the Veil of Death into the body. Maybe the remaining sliver was ejected and replaced with a random soul. Maybe my soul merged with the part left in this body. I didn't know what happened, but the result was obvious: his memories, reflexes and abilities coupled with my consciousness. And this was good. The body was completely under my control.

Though, this raised an interesting question about horcruxes. Were they parts of Riddle or me? Would they still serve their function and save me from death? Until I get a chance to check, I better act with the assumption that I am mortal...

Question: what now? The best option would be to forget about everything and run. But I was an international criminal. I wouldn't be welcome anywhere. Tom traveled a lot in his youth, recruiting supporters everywhere... Wizards were conservative for a reason: their magical power was supported by local magic sources. The British Isles had three large sources: Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic and Stonehenge. Each source produced unique ambient magic, the differences between them increasing with distance. Using a foreign source was hard. It usually lead to much slower regeneration of magical energy and lowering of magic reserve while staying in an adverse area... Simple travel did not present much of a problem, but fighting for your life did: after depleting the reserves, you recovered exponentially slower. If right now I could go all out every other day, in India it would slow down to once every 30 days at best. (That's why there was a Triwizard and not an All-wizard tournament. The British sources were at least somewhat felt throughout Europe, allowing Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and Hogwarts to compete with months long breaks between events for recovery.)

In my case, moving was a death sentence. I would weaken as soon as I leave Britain. The younger and weaker the wizard, the easier it was to adapt to a new source. I could get used to it... after 20 years or so, but I would get killed long before that.

Surrender to Dumbledore? And he will understand and forgive? He will kill me! The most I could hope for was a cell in Nurmengard next to Grindelwald. Riddle personally killed thousands of muggles and hundreds of wizards. People like that did not get forgiven. Nobody would believe my remorse.

Lead the aristocracy towards peace? I was not omnipotent. I was their leader, not owner. The dark mark was a beacon and a badge; I could not control or kill them through it. If I went against their ideology, they might unite to kill me. And Riddle's horcruxes were likely useless now.

It looked like I had to play the villain. No radical changes. At least not immediately, before I could properly assess the situation.

What were my assets? I was one the world's most powerful wizards. I had power, knowledge, skills, reflexes, improved body. The Mind Arts granted good memory and quick thinking but also some detachment and lack of emotion. The wand still worked but not as well as before; this needed to be fixed. I also had about a hundred Death Eaters. And twenty of the most trusted Inner Circle.

What was against me? Dumbledore. Older than me. Stronger. More experienced. Defeated Dark Lords while I was still in school, attending his classes. He also sat atop the strongest magical source in England and had a phoenix familiar with healing tears and the ability to apparate through wards. He would crush me. We fought twice. One time I retreated covered by a live shield of muggles; the second time - a live shield of wizards. He also had his Order of the Phoenix. About two hundred wizards of various levels. Two dozens of highly trained, valuable members like the Longbottoms. Hundreds of fans and cannon fodder from recent Hogwarts graduates. Two hundred Aurors. And a thousand ministry workers, though they may as well be plankton with wands.

Maybe I should just Avada myself right now? No, at least give this life a try first...

It was time to get to work. Get off the floor. Pick up the wand. The shame! Lily could have easily escaped or slit my throat with a kitchen knife while I was howling and writhing on the floor. What a headline that would have made: The Dark Lord Defeated by Potter Housewife! Good thing she was in shock and barricaded herself in the nursery. How much time did I spend thinking? Forty seconds? I needed a plan.

I transfigured James' body into a rock and put it in my pocket. Why? I'll find some use for it! Then transfigured a copy of his body from air. Using magic felt instinctive, and the energy expended on non-verbal NEWT-level spells was well below regeneration rate even with an ill-suited wand.

I walked up to the second floor and pointed my wand at the door. Not even a spell- just my will, and the door opened.

Lily Potter stood wandless in front of the baby's bed, shielding him with her body. She was young and beautiful. No wonder Severus d.e.s.i.r.ed her. Bright green eyes and thick dark red hair really stood out.

"Please," she begged, "Not Harry! Please, I will do anything!"

The girl was panicking. She heard me laugh and scream. But I had no plans to kill her or her child. First, the thrice-damned prophecy. What if I killed them and vanished like Riddle? Second, Lily might be useful. Not in a s.e.x.u.a.l way, of course; at least not to her husband's murderer, known maniac and psychopath. Also, Snape will probably try to kill me if I took his woman... And she would be detractive to my status anyway. Faking her death was easy, but letting her go would ruin my image.

For a moment, she froze with wide eyes. I heard her suck in a deep breath in deathly silence. Lily never hoped her plea would have any effect.

"Anything!" she repeated."Just don't kill Harry!"

"Very well," I replied.

She fell to the floor but didn't faint. I helped her up. Harry was watching us from behind her back.

"Very well?" Lily asked in disbelief.

"I will not kill you or your son, but you must vow to serve me faithfully and never betray me. Vow on your life and the life of your son. The vow will kill you before you can betray me effectively: it is triggered by any attempt to act against me or share confidential information."

A bit of wand waving - and glowing patterns appeared in the air around us, enclosing us in an odd shape. It was a rather obscure piece of magic that did not need a binder but required honest intent from both parties and could only be performed once every ten years. Riddle came across it in his search for ways to control the Death Eaters. But once in ten years was not even funny. Only the Lestrange couple was under this vow (though the served voluntarily and were completely loyal anyway). Tom wanted to use it on Lucius Malfoy last year, but Lucius did not trust anyone on principle, so the vow didn't take. Since then, Riddle started calling him "my slippery friend."

"Do you agree to these terms?" this was actually total peonage with no responsibilities on my side. I did not plan on killing them, but I should still add a clause about self-defense from Harry.

"I, Lord Voldemort, vow not to kill Harry Potter if you, Lily Potter, vow on your life and the life of your child to serve me faithfully and never betray me."

"I.. I vow... On Harry's life. And my own. To serve you faithfully," her voice was growing quieter with every word. "I vow... on his life and mine to never betray you."

"Repeat after me."

"I vow to be faithful to Lord Voldemort in both action and lack of thereof, to never, under no circ.u.mstances share any confidential information related to Lord Voldemort I receive today or at any later time, in speaking, writing or any other form, including but not limited to: telepathy, legilimency, veritasetum or similar drugs or potions, consciously or unconsciously, with the exception of following Lord Voldemort's direct and explicit orders."

"I vow to not kill your son under the aforementioned conditions but reserve the right to use lethal force if it becomes necessary for self-defense."

Red glow surrounded us. The vow has taken.

"What now?" she asked.

I looked into her eyes. Not even a hint of occlumency. I checked her mind for the location of her wand and other necessities for her and the baby, sending everything into my pocket with space expansion charms.

"We are moving. But first, give me your arm."

The marking went without a hitch. I could viscerally feel a new Death Eater near me. The horror on Lily's face was indescribable. Another swish of the wand- Lily and Harry got transfigured into miniature statues and went into another magically expanded pocket. Why? I still had things to wrap up, and a hysterical woman with a baby would only get in the way.

Visualizing the Mark, I located and called on Pettigrew and the Lestranges. Everyone appeared after a few seconds.

"My Lord..."

"Time is of the essence, Wormtail. Go to London. You will act as bait for Sirius Black. The Lestranges will help you set up the trap. The story is that Black betrayed the Potters and tried to murder you, but you managed to kill him first. You will gain Dumbledore's trust, and Black will become our prisoner."

I looked into their eyes to relay the details via legilimency. Rodolphus was carefully memorizing everything while the other two stared at me- Bellatrix with adoration, Wormtail with fear.

"Go. Time is of the essence," I ordered. Three pops, and I was alone again. I transfigured copies of Lily's and Harry's bodies, cast several spells to muddle the evidence of tonight's events and hid under strong concealment charms.

Sirius Black arrived several minutes later. He wailed over the bodies for a long time, completely crushed by grief. Meanwhile, I was working on subduing his will. Not with the Imperius, this called for more subtle charms first. Finally, I circ.u.mvented his family amulet. Despite being a strong wizard, this sad sack never learned any occlumency. Now to carefully amplify his grief and despair without pushing him to suicide...

At that moment, Hagrid arrived and began consoling him. I managed to freeze Hagrid in place non-verbally. He may not be a match for me, but restraining a magically resistant half-giant while working on Black was far from easy. I finally cast the Imperius on Black. He struggled. But his amulets were useless, and I've been in his mind for several minutes.

"Avada Kedavra!" said Black, and the half-giant dropped dead.

Black's desperate attempts to throw off the curse were futile, especially with me pointing a wand at him from a few feet away. I transfigured Hagrid's body and put it with the others. I wonder, could a high quality zombie-Hagrid convince his acromantulas to join me?

Black got on his motorcycle, and I sat next to him. I cast concealment charms on us and Fiendfyre at the house. The cursed fire was incredibly easy to create but much more difficult to control. It spread through the house almost instantly. And they said bricks don't burn! Even if I left some evidence, it would be impossible to find after all my misdirection charms and Fiendfyre. Black cast the Dark Mark over the house, and we left for London.

Chapter 2

I needed to be extremely productive to frame Black, ensure Pettigrew's fame and take care of the Longbottoms before magic boost from Samhain night was over.

I was flying with imperioed Black to London. Why not apparate? He may have a chance to fight the curse during apparition. I was also using this time to assess my abilities. So far, they were impressive.

Lord Voldemort's magic reserve and recovery speed were ten times higher than the average wizard's. Second only to Dumbledore, at least in Britain. Most of of his skills were oriented towards causing harm. Proficient with an incredible number of high-level spells, especially dark, soul, battle and mind magic. A bit less knowledge in transfiguration, potions, rituals and runes, but still high above the mastery requirements. Good enough at Light magic to cast a Patronus, but that was the ceiling. Zero knowledge of household magic.

What did a magical battle look like? If it were only a matter of waving a wand and saying an incantation, a gun or even a crossbow would be more effective. Wand-waving and shouting spells was the domain of school kids. Perhaps, with the exception of the Unforgivables- enunciating them helped to avoid wasting too much energy.

On Voldemort's level, it was usually enough to point the wand and focus on what you want to happen to the target. Simple spells like the cutting curse could be fired as fast as a machine gun without outpacing the regeneration rate. As for speed and power... A bullet did the same damage regardless of who fired it. Incendio barely lit a piece of paper for an average 11 year old but could be comparable to a highly explosive missile in the hands of someone like Riddle. Within the range of one's abilities, speed and power could be controlled with intense focus.

Of course, a wizard could be killed with a bullet to the head from a sniper rifle. Unless he prepared a kinetic shield before the battle. Then bullets were useless until the energy poured into the shield is depleted. A third year's shield may be able to hold against several shots from a handgun; an average a.d.u.l.t wizard's - against a grenade launcher; Riddle could survive a rain of artillery shells.

And so, Lord Voldemort was busy going through the usual routine of casting protection charms on himself. Universal mana shield, shield of dust, shields against the elements, mental shields, kinetic shield, shields against gases, sounds, gamma-radiation, microwave radiation... Wait, what? Radiation? Riddle, you must have been clinically paranoid! Who else could have a shield against radiation? Moody and Albus?

Next came camouflage charms: concealment of magic, aura, sound, heat and smell, attention repelling, standard invisibility, invisibility to radio waves... Riddle hated muggles, but he was not an idiot.

My reserve depleted by a quarter. Four tenth was tied to maintaining all the charms. And one tenth to controlling Black. Tough bastard.

Instinctively, I reached for the vials in my pocket. All decently strong potions were toxic. You must know how much to take and the interactions between them. Riddle knew. And, being paranoid, brewed everything himself.

Potion of regeneration, improved perception, acceleration, sensitivity to magic... After drinking about a third of the safety limit, my attention shifted back to Black. Unfortunately, it looked like I won't be able to keep him under the Imperius forever. Killing him would be a waste - he was very rich. But how to get to his money? No decent ideas yet, so I decided to throw him in Lestranges' dungeons for now. No one would miss him after I stage his death.

A gentle Seco - and a transfigured from air bottle got filled with a liter of Sirius Blacks' blood, followed by one finger and ear. This will be the terrorist's remains after the explosion. Two more spells temporarily replaced Black's missing parts with prosthetics.

Black and I finally reached a cluttered back alley in London, where we were greeted by the Lestranges and Pettigrew. Peter drank a potion to muddle up the results of the truth serum and legilimency enough to make them inadmissible. After all, he would be the only survivor, victim and witness.

Bella handed Sirius a family dagger with the Black crest and two nondescript amulets to block apparition and magic detection to prevent the Aurors from arriving too early. Pettigrew went under the Imperius without struggle. Now I could easily stage a play with two marionettes. Under concealment charms, we all walked into a nearby office building.

We entered a lecture hall. The teacher was speaking about something related to accounting. Fifty or so listeners were drowsily scribbling notes.

Time to begin our show. Bellatrix and Rodolphuls put up anti-apparition and anti-magic detection wards. I created two popping sounds and removed concealment charms from Pettigrew and Black.

"How could you betray James, Sirius?!" screamed Pettigrew.

"Death to the mudbloods!" shouted Black.

Screaming more suchlike drivel, they began throwing nonverbal cutting and blasting curses at each other. The muggles were taking stray hits.

Black activated the amulets with his free hand to make it look like the shields were his doing. The muggles panicked, so I made Black use an area stunner. Half of the muggles froze. Once more, and only the two wizards were left moving.

"Toturnull!" Black's curse hit Pettigrew's wand arm, vanishing its bones. It was quickly followed by a stunner and an Imperio (just an empty word).

Everything had to look convincing. Black blocked the door and proceeded to cut stunned muggles with the ritual knife at five pentagram corners. He frantically tried to throw off the Imperius but on the outside kept ranting about pathetic blood traitor James and how happy he was to no longer have to pretend to be a muggle lover. And about Pettigrew's great honor to become a human bomb that will destroy Dumbledore, earning the Dark Lord's favor.

This ritual really existed: a strong Dark wizard placed another wizard-sacrifice into the center of a blood pentagram, surrounded by live and dead muggles. After the spell, all the muggles would die, and the caster would gain the ability to make the wizard in the center explode at will, regardless of distance. The "bomb" was easily delivered under Imperius. Naturally, Voldemort had already tried it multiple times. It didn't work on Albus or Moody. But this time I had no intention of finishing it.

This ritual had two very useful qualities. It devoured an incredible amount of the caster's energy and emitted so much dark magic that no one in their right mind would conduct it outside a permanently shielded area, risking a meeting with the entire force of the DMLE. As long as Bella held the ward no one on the outside knew.

But the muggle witnesses couldn't see Bella - only two amulets floating in the air. Suddenly, one of the amulets began to change in color and make squeaking sounds. Black turned and attempted to stabilize it- or else the Aurors would interrupt his work.

Black was under so much strain that Pettigrew broke free from Black's Imperius (which was never there) and stunner (which I dispelled). With Black distracted, Pettigrew ripped out a steel construction rod from a muggle nailed to the floor and heroically stabbed Black through the throat. Black collapsed.

Of course, the wound was not fatal. I made sure Black did not lose too much blood. Peter dropped the rod and snatched Black's wand. As Black tried to cast something wandlessly (a ball of light in his hand from me), Pettigrew put everything he had into one final blasting curse. I sped up my perception, shielding myself, Pettigrew, and several muggles. The Lestranges put up their own.

"Re.." Peter began.

Black was instantly swapped with a replica made with his blood. Nothing but a useless statue, but it will pass the identity test. The real Black, stunned and transfigured, went into my pocket.

"...ducto!"-finished Peter.

The explosion was spectacular. Fake Black got reduced to ground meat. His blood covered the walls, his finger flew somewhere across the room. Half of the muggles were also minced to pieces. The few survivors had heavy injuries. The blast hole went down through three floors. The brave Peter Pettigrew went into shock from a concussion and a broken leg, so I had to take him under complete control.

The Lestranges took down their shields and left unharmed. Peter continued playing the hero: he summoned the Aurors and the Order, then healed one of the muggles before throwing up on the brink of magical exhaustion. Realizing he could not provide any more help, he apparated. Not to St. Mungo's but to an on-duty member of the Order. He'll soon be peddling his story to the old man, who will notice signs of Dark curses from "Black"... Healing Peter would take at least 2 hours alone, unless Abus was feeling generous with Phoenix tears... But even then, he will have to spend time talking to Peter, checking his memories and consoling him.

I apparated away. There would be no evidence- dark magic from the amulets overwhelmed all other magical traces. After several apparitions, I arrived at the Lestrange manor.

It has always reminded me of The Winter Palace in St. Petersburg. I was greeted by the entire family: Edward, the Lestrange patriarch, Rodolphus' and Rabastan's father, Tom's classmate and one of the first death eaters; Rodolphus and Rabastan - brothers, death eaters. And my favorite - Bellatrix Lestrange née Black, Rodolphus' wife and the most devoted death eater. I could relax around them. Back in his youth, Tom helped them break a family curse and later saved Rabastan's life. They were one of the rare few in my organization who could be trusted.

"My Lord, will you be staying?" - asked Bellatrix.

Lord Voldemort was obsessed with power and immortality. But not money. He wore transfigured clothes and lived at his servants' manors. Mostly the Lestranges'.

"Not now," I replied. "Here is Sirius Black. Put him into your most secure cell and grow him a new ear and finger. Keep in mind that he is an animagus. He must not have an opportunity to commit suicide."

"Little Siri is an animagus? We'll find him a cozy cage!" Bellatrix didn't even acknowledge their blood relation. We walked down to the dungeons, and very soon a large black dog was locked in his new cell, wearing a magic-blocking collar, asleep under the Draught of the Living Death.

"Isn't the security a bit too much?" asked the edest Lestrange. He was Tom's friend and remained one of the few people who could speak to him like this.

"You are right, my friend. Add wards against house elves and something of your own. Maybe golem guards for constant surveillance. Don't go inside. I will not risk the Black fortune and Wormtail's cover in Dumbledore's ranks. Maximum security."

"Any more orders?" asked Rodolphus.

"Yes. I need two houses, permanently. Each warded and under Fidelius. And two house elves. Also, prepare a ritual room to raise three liches and one white zombie."

Nobody around here batted an eye at playing with the dead. The dungeons were often used for creating zombies and inferi from muggles and unlucky enemies. Once in a while we even made magic-using corpses - liches. It was houses and house elves that went against Voldemort's MO.

"Have you decided to settle down, my Lord?" Edward asked.

"Yes," I refused to elaborate.

"Do you wish to gather all your servants, my Lord?" chimed in Bellatrix. "Everyone needs to know the Potters have been defeated by your hand!"

"Later, Bella. I will go to the Longbottoms before Samhain is over."

"Allow me to accompany you, Master!" she pleaded.

"I will take care of it myself. If you want to be useful, go do what I just ordered."

I walked out of the manor to the edge of the wards and apparated to the Longbottoms. Their secret keeper wasn't a traitor like Wormtail, but he still spilled everything under torture; by that time, his body was not even good enough for an inferus.