You felt a wave of magic surround you. The curse thrown at you was strong. This time, the arrest of the criminal went worse and even as an experienced Auror, you did not have time to react to the sudden attack. Your arms and legs went numb, it became impossible to move. An alien force was devouring you from the inside, gnawing at the magical core, corroding your soul. You had never experienced anything like this in your life. The world was empty. The light faded, and the sounds died down, like a weakening whisper. You regained your hearing after an eternity. It seemed that you were not killed after all. An attempt to get up almost failed. Your head was splitting with pain, and your body felt like cotton wool. But then you still got up. But you been in an unfamiliar room. A huge living room furnished with taste. You probably would have taken the time to examine it, but your attention was drawn to the man standing there.

You recognized him immediately. Tom Riddle. Not the one you remembered the most. Not the frighteningly ugly creature, a cross between a snake and a man. The man in the impeccable suit and with perfectly styled dark hair was terribly handsome. He had become young and healthy. No crimson eyes, although even a pleasant gray shade was frightening. He reminded you of the young guy you saw him as when he destroyed the first Horcrux. Only older. Now instead of seventeen, he was at least twenty-five. One look at him made you shudder and return to old fears. It was impossible. You killed him, destroyed the Horcruxes. Could he have found a way to rise again? But he had almost no followers left. You personally made sure that most of the truly guilty were locked up in Azkaban.

The man seemed surprised. If you didn't know him, you'd think he had nothing to do with your movement and don't recognize you. He pointed his wand at you, but it looked more like self-defense. He didn't start his usual speech. There was no crazy laughter, no threats, not even an attack without preludes. What the hell is going here?