A shrill scream from an old woman cut through layers of magic, shaking Leon's soul so hard it trembled three times over.
He even felt a phantom ache in his nonexistent brain.
But someone was out there, and it probably wasn't Harry Potter or his two sidekicks—a promising sign.
Leon hurriedly pressed closer to the small window of the locket Horcrux.
Whether the light outside was too dim or his soul-state vision was limited, he couldn't tell.
All he could make out was a blurry haze, with no clear clues about the time or place.
The piercing curses continued, a repetitive tirade of "filth," "disgrace," and "wretched spawn."
Based on the books, this impressively loud old lady was likely Walburga Black, Sirius Black's mother.
With this theory in mind, Leon carefully recounted the history of Slytherin's locket after it became a Horcrux.
In 1979, Voldemort hid the locket Horcrux in a seaside cave.
Soon after, Sirius's brother, Regulus, sacrificed himself to swap it out.
The Black family's house-elf, Kreacher, brought it back to the Black ancestral home.
For years, Slytherin's locket sat in a cabinet in the second-floor drawing room at 12 Grimmauld Place.
After Sirius's death in 1996, Mundungus Fletcher stole the locket.
In 1997, it ended up with Umbridge until Harry, Ron, and Hermione raided the Ministry and retrieved it.
On December 28, 1997, Ron destroyed the locket.
Additional info: Sirius's father died in 1979, and his mother, Walburga, passed in 1985.
Given the old lady's fiery rant and energy, it was likely the early 1980s.
That meant Leon had over a decade before the locket's destruction—plenty of time to plan his escape.
Right now, Leon was just a soul, and the locket was his safe house, shielded by top-tier protective magic.
Unless someone spoke Parseltongue, he was untouchable.
The only downside? He couldn't move on his own.
And that was the problem—being unable to move meant being unable to act.
He needed a body.
Digging through Voldemort's knowledge, Leon found several solutions.
Most involved possession, body-snatching, or draining life force—shady, unstable, short-term fixes with endless downsides.
Even Voldemort, the king of bad choices, only used those methods briefly to cling to life.
Leon wasn't dumb enough to fall into that trap.
After sifting through options, two stood out as acceptable.
One was Voldemort's "stew yourself in a cauldron" revival method from the books. The other? Reincarnation.
Reincarnation?
Now that was promising! If magic couldn't swing it, maybe Muggle tech could. This was the one!
Leon made up his mind quickly. Compared to the cauldron method, which needed rare potions and ingredients, reincarnation was slower but suited him better.
Why didn't Voldemort go this route? Was starting a new "character" too slow for him?
Or was he worried a new body might lack magical talent?
Maybe he just wanted to piggyback on Lily's protection charm for Harry?
Whatever. Leon was already making a mental list, picking out his future parents.
The locket was currently at the Black family's ancestral home.
The easiest plan was to control Kreacher, the house-elf tied to the Blacks, and track down a suitable family member.
Option one: Sirius Black.
The timeline was unclear—he might already be in Azkaban.
Even if he wasn't, he was probably on the run, dodging Death Eaters.
Plus, did he even have a girlfriend? This option was a maybe.
Option two: Bellatrix Lestrange.
Voldemort's biggest fan.
She was either already in Azkaban or about to be.
What, was he supposed to be born in a prison cell?
And if she was secretly involved with Voldemort… yuck. Nope, crossed off.
Option three: Andromeda Tonks.
Nymphadora Tonks's mom, later married to Lupin.
She was disowned by the family for marrying a Muggle-born wizard but was Sirius's favorite cousin.
A solid backup.
Option four: Narcissa Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy's mom.
The Malfoys had wealth and influence.
As villains who all survived the story, they had either brains or luck—maybe both.
Not bad. Being reborn as Draco's brother…
Wait a second!
Who said it'd definitely be a brother?
What if he ended up as a sister?
What?!
Leon gasped, the air inside the Horcrux suddenly feeling hotter.
Right—reincarnation didn't let you pick your gender. There was a 50% chance he'd be a girl!
Uh-oh. Would that cause… issues?
Would J.K. Rowling, the wizarding world's creator, smite him for breaking some cosmic rule?
So that's why Voldemort avoided reincarnation! The real reason wasn't pride or impatience—it was fear of turning into a magical girl!
Discovering the Dark Lord's shocking secret thrilled Leon.
He barely noticed the cursing outside quieting down or the skinny, hunched figure approaching.
A shift in light snapped him out of his excitement.
He couldn't feel any movement inside the locket, but the view from its window swayed back and forth.
Someone had taken the locket out of the cabinet.
Kreacher?
Leon's guess was confirmed.
The locket was tossed into a fire, flames flickering through the tiny window.
Amid the crackle of burning wood, a raspy, frog-like voice muttered:
"…The locket, Master Regulus's locket. Kreacher must obey Master's orders. Destroy the locket! Destroy it!"
"Burn! Burn already! …Ugh, it's no use… useless Kreacher! Useless Kreacher!"
Thud, thud, thud!
Painful thumps echoed, mixed with the house-elf's stifled whimpers.
Leon figured Kreacher, unable to fulfill his master's command, was punishing himself—probably banging his head against a wall or hitting himself with a poker.
Hey, don't knock yourself out! Who'd do the work then?
Leon, a bit rusty, stirred his soul and cast his first spell in this world.
"Stop!"
The noise stopped instantly. Kreacher froze like a statue.
In Leon's perception, a faint glowing orb appeared nearby—Kreacher's soul.
Leon linked to it, like pairing a Bluetooth device.
He issued a command, guiding Kreacher to slowly stand, pick up the locket from the fire, and wear it.
Stretch the arms, kick the legs, jog a bit, jump!
It felt like piloting a mech—pretty fun, actually.
Controlling Kreacher's "mech" body, Leon regained his senses.
It was a bit awkward, like wearing someone else's skin, but better than nothing.
Leon had Kreacher cast spells.
Light a fire, douse it with water, move heavy objects, clean up trash.
Then invisibility and Apparition!
Oops—misjudged the distance and ended up outside.
Grimmauld Place was a desolate mess: cracked cobblestones, wilted weeds, dilapidated houses.
The only two working streetlamps flickered—one unsteady, the other casting a ghastly white glow.
They outlined Kreacher's frail, hunched shadow, shifting in the dim light.
The place oozed eerie, ominous vibes.
It'd be a shame not to film a horror movie here.
Kreacher's bald head tilted slightly, his bulging eyes staring into the pitch-black night sky.
What a perfect moonless, windy night to scout potential parents.
Go, go, go, Kreacher!
Using Kreacher's connection to the Black family, Leon had him Apparate to the nearest Black family member.
Leon kept Kreacher invisible and silenced the Apparition's pop, staying extra cautious.
But it seemed… unnecessary.
The Black family member in front of him was so oblivious, lost in their own world, they wouldn't notice a thing.