Bald Baby and Return of the Chaos king

The Riddle House stood in eerie silence, its once-grand halls now home to dust and shadows. Frank Bryce, the aging caretaker, trudged through the overgrown garden, muttering about "foolish kids" setting fires again. But as he neared the house, flickering light shone from an upstairs window—light that had no business being there.

Curious and irritated, Frank pushed the door open and stepped inside, careful not to creak the old wooden floor. Voices drifted from above.

"The plan is in place, my Lord," a raspy voice murmured.

Frank crept forward, stopping just outside the room. Through the crack in the door, he saw a hunched man—Peter Pettigrew—groveling before a chair. A small, pale figure, barely human, sat upon it.

"We must act soon," another voice interjected, sharp and eager—Barty Crouch Jr.

Frank's breath caught. The air felt heavier, unnatural. A slithering noise made his skin crawl. A massive snake slid across the floor, its beady eyes locking onto his.

"Nagini says we have a guest," the whispery voice announced.

The chair's occupant turned slightly. Two gleaming red eyes met Frank's.

"Kill him."

A flash of green light.

Frank Bryce, who had survived a world war, collapsed before he could even scream.

Voldemort sighed. "Such a waste."

Barty smirked. "Shall we proceed, my Lord?"

The Dark Lord's lips curled into something that might have been a smile. "Yes… the world will soon remember my name."

In other side of the continent.

Raja sighed. Saying goodbye was so much work. But hey, he wasn't just going to disappear like a boring person. Oh no, he was going to exit in style—with drama, debauchery, and just a pinch of emotional manipulation.

First stop: Amy Santiago, Brooklyn's finest (and most neurotic) police officer. He waltzed into her precinct like he owned the place and, after enduring a 10-minute lecture on the importance of proper scheduling, finally convinced her to have dinner with him.

The dress? Flawless.The jewelry? Exquisite.The restaurant? So fancy it made Holt raise an eyebrow.

Dinner was going well until, of course, their competitive spirits kicked in. A debate over who deserved to be called the best strategist quickly escalated into an all-out verbal duel.

"You wouldn't last a week in the force!" Amy scoffed.

"Yeah? And you wouldn't last a day in my world!" Raja shot back.

They fought for One hours straight. The poor waiter just left the bill on the table and fled.

After reaching Amy home nothing mattered, they straight up fucked until early morning.

By morning, Raja was gone. In his place? A neatly folded napkin with a note:

"Had fun. You're still wrong. Bye."

Next, Raja visited Max Black and met new Caroline Channing at their diner.

"Hey, fancy pants," Max greeted. "Here for sarcasm, judgment, or a side of poverty?"

"All of the above. Also, I'm leaving for London."

"Oh no, we're devastated," Max deadpanned.

Caroline was about to say something emotional, but Raja cut her off. "Dinner at my Max place after your shift. Be there."

He cooked up a feast that would make Gordon Ramsay weep in admiration and stocked enough alcohol to make the gods jealous. As the night progressed, food turned into drinks, drinks turned into a movie night, and the movie turned into… well, let's just say a battle for dominance.

Max and Caroline teamed up against him. Bad idea.

They wrestled, plotted, and strategized everything in the bed—but Raja remained undefeated. The next morning, both women were acting all awkward. Raja, being Raja, solved it the only way he knew how:

Another round of competitive "sparring" in the bedroom.

They emerged victorious in destroying their awkwardness (and possibly the bed frame). Before leaving, he casually tossed enchanted platinum chains at them. "For protection and health. Not because I care. Shut up."

Next stop: Rose's house.

He had a whole speech prepared. A touching, heartfelt goodbye. He was going to be mature about it.

Then she opened the door.

Wearing nothing but a swimsuit.

Yep. Speech? Gone. Thoughts? Useless. Plans? What plans?

He lifted her up, kicked the door shut, and—well, let's just say the neighbors had some new trauma.

After eventually making it out of Rose's house, he did a whirlwind tour:

Uncle Charlie & Greta: Handled like a pro (by ignoring Charlie's jokes about how he should teach Raja his ways).The Nerd Lords: Bowed to him like the King of Chaos he was.Pearson's Law Firm: Harvey and Louis bickered as usual. Jessica just sighed and waved him off.

He left one final message for Jessica and Jane:

"If you ever need me, call Dobby. Yes, that Dobby. No, don't question it."

And with that, he blinked to the UK, appearing smack dab in the middle of Diagon Alley like he was summoned by the Gods of Drama.

First stop? Gringotts. His goblin accountant took one look at him and sighed. "I assume you want to do something reckless with your money again."

"Always."

Then, off to Madam Malkin, where he handed over new fashion designs for wizarding robes. (Honestly, these people needed a wardrobe upgrade.)

With that done, he prepared for his next great adventure: The Quidditch World Cup.

And with it…

CHAOS.

Because let's be real—Raja never traveled anywhere without leaving behind a disaster.