AN: I'm going to be honest with everyone, I'm stunned at the level of appreciation this fic got. When I started writing it, the story was honestly just a writing exercise for me, trying to write a protagonist who's personal ideals, culture, and traditions, were vastly different from my own. It's now my usual style but I'm glad so many of you liked it and are now getting to read its conclusion.
Harry Potter King of the Amazons
-Barty Crouch Jr.-
Smirking gleefully, Crouch saw Potter grab the Portkey and vanish without a trace. The crowd didn't panic, at first, likely thinking that the portkey was supposed to bring the Champion back out of the rapidly withering maze, but when Potter failed to reappear the panicked whispers began to spread. The startled scream came far faster than expected though, putting him on edge before doubling over, a burning pain in his gut as his skin began to bubble. "W-what?!" Crouch dropped onto all fours, writhing as he felt the Polyjuice potion finally leaving his system after close to a year, the pain after being in this Mad-Eye form for so long excruciating.
"Something wrong Crouch?" one of the Potter brat's whores sneered at him, a sharp kick across of his face dislodging the false eye as he rolled onto his back, "I was honestly surprised at how well that confundus charm worked." His eye widened as he realized what that tickling thought at the back of his mind was, the thing he was sure hew as forgetting.
"You're dumber than I thought whore!" Crouch cackled between the writhing gasps and screams "Sending that scum off to his death. Or is he that bad of a king that you wanted to be rid of him?"
The response he got was a derisive snort, "Our King was tired of your master hiding in the shadows with the other scum that followed him. What better way to get them all in one place than to spring their own trap without the surprise?"
Landing on the wet grass of a graveyard, Harry calmly cracked his neck, pleased that the information he'd extracted from one of the death eater children had been accurate. Scattered throughout the graveyard, he could see the remaining Death eaters and the Cultists that had plagued his people for so long. "Ah, the Boy-Who-Lived, come to die." A weak rasping voice hissed out from a pile of rags in the arms of the bastard Wormtail.
"I must thank you Riddle." Harry calmly tugged at the sleeves of his Robes as he looked around, assessing the confident crowed that surrounded him, wands and weapons out.
"Oh look, the child has finally lost it." Voldemort cackled to his followers to hype them up, "But do tell me, I'm curious, why would you be thanking me boy? For finally giving you the chance to reunite with your dear mommy and daddy?"
"You brought my enemies together into one place for me." Harry smirked, stabbing his sword into a stone on the ground as magic seeped out, a shimmering barrier trapping his enemies in with him until he died or removed the blade "And now you can't get out." He heard the shout of a piercing curse being fired from behind, tilting his head away as it brushed his ear and stabbed through the throat of one of the magicless cultists. "Pathetic." Harry shook his head disdainfully as the rest of the bastards all waited for their master's order, "Well, I suppose I should start exterminating you pests." In an instant, his calm expression shattered into a look of murderous rage, fire and death flying from his hands as screams filled the night.
"Hurry you fools, hurry!" Voldemort screamed, the thing's voice high pitched even as Wormtail and Nagini remained as protection, "I need his blood! His blood!"
Deciding to be efficient, Harry decided to eliminate the cultists first, their numbers filling up a large portion of the graveyard and many of them lacked magic with which to protect from his spells. The death eaters, as he'd guessed, didn't care about what they likely saw as 'squib grunts' and made no move to save their comrades. To his amusement, some of the more cowardly death eaters tried to apparate away and out of his dome only for the wards to specifically splinch them to remove head from neck.
One by one, the fools fell, unable to break his shields or shield from his own attacks in return. Harry wasted no effort, no movement of flashiness or drama. He wanted these bastards dead so he could get to the real targets. "Nagini, kill him!" Voldemort was clearly trying to cut his losses as the massive snake shot forward, fangs gleaming. He felt his response was fitting, even if the smell of cooked snake was rather unpleasant.
"It's just you two left now." Harry glared at Voldemort and Wormtail who he could see had wet himself, the traitor clawing at the dome and trying to get out as Harry walked over the corpses of the man's allies. Grabbing them both by their throats, Harry walked back to his sword and removed it before portkeying back to Hogwarts, his prisoners in tow. Voldemort would be a good gift for Amelia to help secure her as the next Minister, mainly to save him from future headaches, while Wormtail. Well, he felt Propheta had every right to deal with the little rat as she saw fit.
The years after the end of the Tri-Wizard tournament saw continual growth and change for the Amazon Kingdom, their insistence on dragging magical England out of their backwards shell helping to update and modernize the ancient community while said community also helped to, over time, temper some of the more violent ways of the Amazons to a more stable middle ground. Alliances were made with the Magical governments of other nations such as Bulgaria and the United Sates. Voldemort was sent through the veil after being questions on everything he knew through use of Veritaserum. And as for Wormtail? He was never seen again, although his screams still haunted the nightmares of those who'd been too close to where Propheta punished him.