The hunt didn't take months—Ethan made sure of that.Where others would have spent years chasing whispers, he hunted Horcruxes like someone making a trip to the grocery store. Ravenclaw's Diadem here… oh, here's Hufflepuff's Cup, too.
The ritual he'd crafted from Voldemort's own fractured soul, combined with his prior knowledge, led him right to the exact locations. But unlike Dumbledore, Ethan didn't destroy the relics—he purified them, stripped away the soul fragments, and left the artifacts intact, their magic cleansed and reforged for his own use.
The Gaunt Ring was first. Hidden deep in the ruined shack near Little Hangleton, it pulsed with cursed hunger. Ethan snapped the curse like a twig with the Sheep Talisman, drew out the shadowed soul within, and folded its knowledge into his mind before burning it away with golden flame. The ring remained—pure, still powerful, but now a symbol of conquest rather than corruption.
Next came Helga Hufflepuff's Cup, pulled from the Lestrange vault in Gringotts. He wove illusion and stealth to bypass the dragons, then liquefied the Horcrux's foul spirit with a whispered incantation.
Nagini could wait—Ethan already had plans for her little appearance at the graveyard.
While his nights were spent hunting and cleansing, his days were for teaching, training, and—well—extracurriculars. Even Daphne had started coming to his office for "private tutoring," if you knew what he meant.As for preparations for the final task, Harry's control had evolved since the scar's purification. His magic now ran sharper, steadier. Fleur's Veela power deepened under Ethan's guidance, her aura now capable of both burning and healing depending on her intent.
The maze would not claim them; Ethan saw to that. He drilled them in combat focus, rune traps, and even a few simplified talismanic techniques. By the time the task arrived, both were lethal, disciplined, and ready.
Pre-Task: The Plan
The evening before the Third Task, Ethan met Harry and Fleur under the stands, where the torchlight flickered like heartbeat fire.
"You both remember the plan?" Ethan asked quietly, scanning the dark sky above the maze.
Harry nodded. "Get to the cup, stay together. If anything feels off—signal you."
Fleur smirked, brushing hair from her face. "And if eet teleports us, you appear and save the day, oui?"
"Something like that," Ethan said, grinning before giving her a quick peck on the lips. "Stick to what we practiced. Trust each other—and whatever happens, don't panic. I'll be there, even if you can't see me."
They nodded, faces set. They were ready.
The Third Task
When the whistle blew, the maze swallowed them whole—walls of dark green shifting and breathing like a living thing. Harry, marginally in the lead, went in first, followed by Fleur, Cedric, and lastly Krum.Harry and Fleur moved like clockwork: silent spells, swift disarms, clearing obstacles in minutes. Krum didn't stand a chance; one clean stun from Fleur and he went down twitching. Cedric, bless his confused Hufflepuff heart, tripped over his own feet trying to keep up.
Ethan shadowed them invisibly, silent as a snake, ready to make the jump with them at the end—to the graveyard where Voldemort and his Death Eaters wouldn't know what hit them.
By the time they reached the cup, Cedric was staring between them, utterly lost.
"Er—d'you two just—uh—want to grab it together?" he stammered.
"Sure," Harry said as Fleur rolled her eyes.
The moment their hands touched, blue light exploded. The Portkey yanked them into darkness.
They landed hard in the Little Hangleton graveyard. Cedric groaned, brushing off dirt. "What the fuck—?!"
Before the others could orient themselves, Wormtail emerged from the mist, clutching the grotesque baby Voldemort like a deformed football. Ethan dropped his concealment spell and stunned him mid-sentence. Wormtail crumpled like a sack of flour.
The "Dark Lord" hit the ground with a wet plop.
Ethan walked over, shaking his head. "You know, Tom, this is honestly sad."
He conjured a child's car seat, strapped the shriveled creature in as it wailed in impotent fury, and with a lazy wave of his wand, summoned a glowing pacifier that lodged itself firmly in Voldemort's mouth. The enchantment clicked with a satisfying snap.
"There. Now you'll think before biting people," Ethan muttered.
Fleur snorted. Harry nearly fell over laughing.
Then Ethan pressed Voldemort's wand to Wormtail's arm. "Let's invite the guests."
The Dark Mark flared to life, summoning every available Death Eater to the site. When the first popped in, masked and confused, they found the supposed "Dark Lord" drooling in a baby seat.
Ethan grinned, flicked his wrist—and the night turned into a fireworks show of chaos.
He unleashed Muggle firepower he'd been saving just for the occasion: magically enhanced flashbangs, anti-magic smoke, and rune-etched fragmentation grenades. Death Eaters dropped like flies. Fleur's Veela flames carved through their ranks; Harry blasted half a dozen with precision curses. Ethan, calm in the center of it all, deflected Avada Kedavras with his talisman shield and returned them—amplified—to sender.
Within minutes, the graveyard was silent save for the crackle of fire and the faint, wet gurgle of the pacifier still lodged in Voldemort's mouth as he kicked around in fury, looking like a deranged toddler.
Sirius and Remus appeared through a pre-set Portkey, robes flapping, eyes blazing. Ethan gestured toward the unconscious Wormtail.
"He's all yours," Ethan said.
Sirius's grin was feral. "We'll make it slow."
Remus's answering smile was all teeth. The two disappeared into the shadows with their prize.
Moments later, Hermione arrived, dragging a stunned Barty Crouch Jr. by the collar.
"Caught this one sneaking around the maze just as planned," she said proudly. Then she noticed the scene—the baby Voldemort drooling in a car seat—and blinked. "...Do I even want to ask?"
"Nope," Ethan said cheerfully. "Watch closely, though."
He lifted the pacifier, magic humming as the Sheep Talisman ignited. Voldemort's body convulsed once, twice—then vaporized into golden dust. The scream that echoed from the graveyard was faint, hollow, and final.
Crouch Jr. broke instantly, collapsing to his knees. "No... no, no, no…"
Ethan's gaze was cold. "That's for every life he ruined."With a flick of his wrist, he ended it—clean, painless, done.
The graveyard fell still.
Aftermath
By dawn, headlines screamed across Britain:
THE DARK LORD FALLS — VOLDEMORT AND FOLLOWERS DEAD IN MYSTERIOUS GRAVEYARD MASSACRE."Unidentified Magical Strike Annihilates Death Eaters; Ministry Left in Chaos."
No one could prove who did it. Ethan preferred it that way.
In the time that followed, Ethan began his next phase: Integration.Magic for everyone.
He perfected a potion he called the Elixir of Awakening—a blend of purified mana crystals, rare magical herbs, and alchemical compounds inspired by xianxia purification pills. It worked by cleansing and expanding the body's dormant magical veins, clearing away centuries of stagnation in human spiritual pathways.
The process was simple, but the result was extraordinary. Within days of distribution, ordinary people began to feel it: a faint warmth in the chest, a flicker in the mind's eye, the first spark of power in generations. Muggles—now Awakened—began to levitate pebbles, conjure faint lights, and heal minor wounds as their mana veins strengthened with practice.
By the end of the school year, the line between wizard and Muggle began to blur.
Behind the scenes, Ethan consolidated control. He quietly replaced the old guard in the Ministry with reformers loyal to his vision—people who believed in progress, not bloodlines. The new magical world that emerged was united, thriving, and guided by one principle: evolution through enlightenment.It would take time and concentrated effort to properly integrate magic into the wider world without breaking the system, but Ethan had nothing but time.
As the foundations solidified, he opened two portals from his dimensional observatory. While he finished up things in the Harry Potter world, he was eager to begin other journeys—and two of the first worlds his randomizer selected were Pokémon and Game of Thrones.
Why wait and go one at a time when he could enjoy multiple adventures simultaneously?
One portal led to Kanto—a quiet Pallet Town where eighteen-year-old Ethan Cross moved in next to Ash and Gary. He just needed to decide which Pokémon to start with to prepare for a simple life of battles, gyms, and new beginnings.
The second portal led to Westeros. There, a clone of Ethan was born into House Arryn, the first son of Jon Arryn's first wife, Jeyne Royce. He would grow among falcons and politics as the rightful heir, wielding the quiet strength of the Super Soldier Serum and the abilities of the main character from Farming Life in Another World. He wanted to see how fun it would be to take over the world using minimal powers—maybe even help the North with its agricultural issues.
As the original Ethan watched both realities unfold from his observatory, stars reflecting in his eyes, he smiled.
"This should be fun," he murmured. "It's just the beginning."
The portals flared open behind him—new worlds waiting for his touch.