Call You Out

"Are you sure you're ready for this Harry? It's been so long since you've dueled, and the dark magic…" Hermione trailed off as Harry gave her a look, his hand poised above the whistling teapot. His muddy green eyes—darkened with age and devoid of the glasses that he had been subjected to wear as a child - flared gold for a second before he closed them, gripping onto the handle of the teapot and removing it from the stove. He walked over to the small table in the middle of the kitchen, pouring out the black tea into the chipped cups that rested upon the top, protected by coasters of course.

"I'll be fine, Hermione." Harry said quietly, although there was a hard edge to it. Hermione nodded, not going to argue with him. She leaned back into squishy chair that was seemingly too large for the small kitchen, and sipped on her cup of tea, scrunching up her nose at the bitter taste. Harry chuckled, staring down into his cup. She observed him then; saw how much he had changed. His hair had gotten longer, and brushed lightly against his shoulders in silky, raven colored strands. Although still young at the age of 19, he had creases that lined his face profusely so much that sometimes he looked to be an old man. He had gotten broader, growing muscles, although these were not visible with his still slightly slender frame and the baggy clothes that he always wore.

She smiled, setting down her cup, and twirled a strand of her bushy brown hair around her finger, tugging at it lightly. She was worried, no doubt, but Harry was an experienced dueler. Yet, there was still that nagging voice. What if the madness that he had inside of him consumed him fully at his battle with the feared Lord Voldemort? It had been years since the pair had seen him anywhere. For all they knew, he could have somehow acquired powers similar to that of a god, and then there would be no hope for them.

I will be fine, Hermione. Stop being such a worrywart.

Hermione jumped in surprise and turned her sharp amber eyes to Harry, yet he was sitting there casually drinking tea. She hadn't felt him enter her mind! She would have thought that she had simply imagined it but the thing that gave him away though, was his eyes, which had brightened with a quiet laughter. She huffed, and then grinned.

I can't help it Harry! Of course I'm going to worry; we need to make sure that we win this! It's gone on for far too long…

You don't think I know that?

Yes…I mean no. …..

Harry got up and walked over to the sink, tossing his cup carelessly into the sink, before returning to where Hermione was sitting, leaning over her chair, intimidating. He rose up his hand and Hermione flinched slightly, yet continued to look him in the eye. He gently flicked her on the head, smiling ever so slightly, before leaning down and whispering in her ear. His smile increased when her cheeks flushed the shade of cherries before kissing her on the spot where he had flicked her. He stood up then, the smile faded from his face as he brushed past her, out the door. Hermione watched him leave, a sad smile on her face, the blush fading away slowly.

I love you too, Harry Potter. Please be careful.

Hogwarts looked the same as it had ever been, except that it now stood dark, and empty. The Great Lake lapped silently against the shore, shimmering incandescently in the setting sunlight. Harry saw all this and more as he stood atop the roof of Hogwarts, gripping his wand lazily in his hand. His eyes scanned the area before his eyes finally caught hold to something in the distance. He smirked. Let the fun begin.

Storm clouds appeared suddenly in the sky, blocking out all sun and casting the world into shadow. The waves picked up furiously, hissing and spitting as a large, dark ship docked in front of Hogwarts. The whole ship seemed to be made from darkness, as it blended into the rest of the area perfectly. A great echoing cry blasted out from the ship resembling a demonic fanfare sent from the very bowels of Hell itself. Harry's grin increased as he saw a tall, slender man step out from the ship, the sand beneath the person's feet turning black on contact. He looked up, staring directly at Harry.

A loud crack that Harry knew was purely for show shot out and the man was standing in front of Harry, smirking. Tom looked no older than he did when he was 16, except for the fact that his eyes were coral-red and when he smiled he presented rows of sharp, pointed teeth and a forked, black tongue. His pale skin seemed stretched over his face and his eyes were open wide, unblinking and unmoving due to the lack of pupils.

"I see you've gotten a new body, Tom." Harry said nonchalantly.

"And I see that you still hold no respect for your elders." Tom hissed out. Harry smirked and stretched languidly. Another hiss pierced the air, sharp and loud as a curse, crackling with raw dark magic flew at Harry. It scratched him on his side and Harry growled long and deep -animalistic almost - as a gash appeared on his left side, quickly staining his shirt with maroon blood. Harry pointed his wand at Tom and a jet of icy blue magic bulleted its way at him, catching him in the side of the head. His head soon swelled to cartoonish proportions, looking grotesque when compared to the rest of his small body.

Harry laughed, ignoring the burning pain in his side as he stared at Tom.

"What are you doing, you insolent brat?!"

"Trying to have a laugh before I kill you."

The grass was wet with morning dew, the sheer cliff that faced off towards the sparkling ocean pointed out to it like an arrow. A cool breezed winded its way through the area as the two battled it out, throwing curses, hexes, jinxes; all manner of magic known to Wizard kind, yet neither one was breaking the others' defenses. Harry was getting frustrated, and bored. He had wanted to unleash his madness upon Tom, to end this once and for all, show him the true meaning of fear, yet it wouldn't be possible now. He didn't want Tom to know that he could use such powerful magic, which is why he had it masked in the first place, but this duel was getting ridiculous. He wasn't even breaking a sweat. Tom was pathetic.

Harry yawned, and in the one instance where he closed his eyes his left arm felt like it was on fire when he opened them again. He screamed, the sound ripping from deep in his throat to collect around the two of them. When he looked down, wand arm gone slack, he saw that his arm was nothing more than a burnt and bleeding stump. The blackness that had turned his arm to charcoal was spreading over his shoulder slowly, steadily and painfully. Tears blurred his vision, disorienting his vision of a red spell bulleting towards him, hitting him in the legs.

He fell to his knees, the blackness spreading across to his other shoulder and up his neck. He looked up, Tom Riddle towering over him with a demonic grin on his face.

"You, Harry Potter, on you knees before me, as it should be." Tom said quietly. Tom cupped his chin gently in his hands and tilted it upwards forcing Harry to look up at him and see the pure, dark magic swirling within those maroon orbs of his. Harry narrowed his eyes as the irises' flared gold, glowing with an internal light. Tom pulled back his hand, startled as Harry's body grew to an extremely hot temperature, almost burning his hand. The blackness fell from him like dust and his arm started to grow back miraculously.

This shouldn't be possible! I can sense a great magic enveloping him...the wound that I created for his arm should have killed it...All these thoughts and more swirled through Tom's mind in a hazy sort of way, like a dream, as Harry stood up, the curse that Tom put on him disabled. He growled, lowly, as black veins spread across his body, throbbing in time to his heart beat. Harry raised his head into the sky and screamed, loud and long, shaking the very ground beneath them, before glowing bight red internally and combusting.

Tom stood there, flabbergasted. Where had Harry gone...he turned around, scanning the area with his eyes, trying to sense a magical presence, but he found nothing but his own. Tom growled, shooting out a Sectumsempra out into the ocean, although it was weak, and flimsy. Tom saw this, dismayed.

"It's no use hiding from me, Harry! I know you're scared but your death shall be quick and painless. I wouldn't want to waste all my magic on such a pitiful life form such as yourself." Tom said, not feeling the rage that he was supposed to as he proclaimed these words. He was scared, if he wanted to be truthful with himself. The moment where he had felt Harry's magic-his true magic, Tom knew that now - was incredible, and terrifying. He was overwhelmed as he had stood in such close proximity, as to the reason why his magic had not been at its strongest when he casted Sectumsempra was because whatever magic that Harry had had sucked his into it, making it stronger.

"Come out Harry and face your fate. You don't want to be like that pathetic father of yours do you? Running around, trying to avoid something that's inevitable. And don't get me started on that mudblood of a mother that you had..." Tom rambled on like this for a good fifteen minutes, talking about Harry's parents, Harry's girlfriend and Harry's sister.

Tom chuckled after having finished a particularly satisfying joke about Harry's sister and how her boggart was her reflection. A cough interrupted his laughing and Tom turned around quickly, wand pointed towards the heart of whoever dared to interrupt him in his joke making. Harry sat on top of a smooth, gray stone, with large, black wings sprouting from his back and the black veins still crisscrossed on his face. He smirked, showing fangs as he witnessed Tom dropping his wand. Tom stepped back, staggering, trying to get away form the immense power that was welled up inside Harry Potter. He needed a release for that power. And in a frightening instance, Tom knew that he would be unleashing that power on him.

Harry got up as his wings encased him in a black feathery blanket. A flame, as black as his wings, encased his right arm and he threw it at Tom, who dodged it, pale faced and shaking. Harry threw back his head and laughed, loud and deep, his eyes turning deep red. The laughed turned into a giggle, shrill and hoarse, as the veins on his body throbbed at an increased pace before bursting out of his skin. The blood that covered his body, as black as the night hardened and turned into feathers, the only part of his pale skin being shown was around his face, where the feathers sprouted into a specific pattern to form a helmet, sans the nose, eyes and mouth coverings. His wings rose high on his back, flapping and suddenly he was in the air, hissing and spitting. The sea behind Tom responded by thrashing up, trapping Tom between a rock and a hard place; either die by Harry, or die by the ocean, and neither one was a pleasant choice. A cold wind swept around Tom, lifting him up in the air. The pressure from the air was immense, constricting his insides in painful ways. He struggled to breathe, clawing at air, trying to reach his wand. The sky turned dark, thunder and lightning worked together to create an orchestra of light and sound that was both beautiful and deadly. It seemed that almost all the elements were working with Harry to bring down this one mortal. The ground rose beneath Tom's feet, mud, Tom realized hazily as he closed his eyes, still trying to breathe. The mud wrapped around his legs and hardened, before rising up and doing to same to his arms, encasing him in a mud coffin that left the top half of his body exposed.

The wind ceased its torment upon Tom's lungs, and he gasped, eyes opening quickly to survey his surroundings. Harry was nowhere to be seen, his magical presence dead. The sky was still dark and stormy, though the lightning had stopped and the thunder rolled in the distance. Tom felt hands cool and smooth and oh so gently upon his neck, massaging it. All the feeling melted out of Tom physically although a turmoil of emotions mostly consisting of dread and anger twisted deeply in his heart, making him feel light-headed. He slumped forward as soon as those hands left his neck, completely relaxed, his breathing slow and steady.

Harry appeared in front of him in a shower of ash, skin bleeding and gaping. He raised his left hand, bloody to the bone and lifted Tom's chin gently, leaving his mark and Tom's skin.

"You've been through so much. If I wasn't in so much pain now, I'd actually feel pity for you. We knew this day would come, the day that fool Trelawny prophesied. 'And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.' " Harry chuckled, hoarse and lowly. Tom stared at him numbly, willing all the emotions to leave his heart, his mind, preparing himself. In this tender moment, Tom knew he would die.

"You're life was so fleeting, and now your death will be painless, I assure you." With these words Harry raised his right hand. It glowed blue, a liquid like substance covering it. He placed it on Tom's chest, pushing, pushing, pushing. Tom looked down numbly as Harry withdrew slowly, dragging his heart out with him, still connected to the veins by strands of the blue magic that enveloped his hand. The strands turned black, as did the liquid that surrounded Harry's hand, taking Tom's heart along with it. Black flakes gathered along Tom's body as his heart was gone, slowly disintegrating his body until there was nothing but a pile of ash.

With that, Tom Riddle was no more.

The house was dark and empty when Harry got home. He dragged himself wearily through the foyer, the dining room, the kitchen, and then to the back where the living room was. He collapsed on the couch, sighing in relief as his wings wrapped around him; a warm living blanket of darkness.

He did not know that he slept.

Hermione came into the living room, squinting in the darkness. She saw a mass of something moving on the couch, but was too scared to turn on the lights. Grabbing her wand from her boot, she whispered Lumos as quietly as she could, watching as the tip flared to life with a silver light. All she could see were black feathers, and a pale hand sticking out from beneath those feathers, rising and falling with every breath that Harry took. She sighed in relief, almost dropping her wand as the feeling flooded though her nervous system, leaving her shot. She slunk to the ground, her legs buckling underneath her, head bowed as tears of happiness streamed down her face. He was safe, he was back, Voldemort was dead but most importantly Harry was alive. A lump rose in her throat and she tried to swallow it down, choking, smothered sobs wracking through her body, trying not to wake him up. So many emotions...

"Hermione stop crying, I can't get to sleep with you blubbering like that..." Hermione snapped her head up, wincing as it creaked, staring at the form who had fully revealed himself as he had set himself upright. His skin was red and raw, she could see that there were multiple scratches covering his body. So the darkness did take him over...She thought. His voice had been cracking with every third or fourth word that came out of his mouth and his posture was slouched over. The wrinkles that permeated his face looked as prominent as ever now. She frowned, crawling over to him and touching his left-wing gently, feeling how hot the feathers were.

"I'm fine, stop fussing."

"I'll stop fussing if you stop talking and get some rest Harry James Potter!" She said, a playful yet serious tone invading her voice. He grinned tiredly, simply nodding. Hermione pulled her hand away as Harry got himself comfortable on the couch, his wings slowly receding into his back. Once she knew that he was deep in sleep, indicated by the slow rise and fall of his chest, she got up and quietly tip toed out of the room.

She stood on top of the roof of Number 12, Grimauld Place, looking out towards the distant horizon. The setting sun creating a canvas of color in the sky, streaking it with pinks, purples reds and blues, all intertwining in the vast space. She sighed, though it wasn't a heavy sigh, full of misery and hopelessness like it had been for the past year or so. It was a clean sigh, a confident sigh, if that made any sense. It was like letting all the bad emotions out at once, only breathing in all the greatness that the world had to offer her. No more having to live in fear, scared that at every twist and turn something was going to happen and that would be the end for her, or her friends, or the wizarding world itself. She smiled, closing her eyes and feeling the crisp fall air blow across her face, feeling refreshed.

A new beginning.

In the plane where Tom and Harry had last stood, footsteps crossed the grass quietly, approaching the clay urn that Potter had constructed to put Tom's ash's in before leaving him. The hands, covered in fine black gloves, picked it up, cradling the urn close to the cloak clad chest. Sharp teeth grinned wildly in the night as a wolf like tongue came out and licked the air, tasting the death and destruction that had been laid there.

"Soon my pet, you shall arise, and we shall rule the Wizarding World twice over."

Fin.

I like this, mostly because the concept that I have in mind has one less fanfic that I have to write by combining the two stories that I had in my head. Not a Harmony story, by the way. Pairings= Harry/ Luna, Hermione/ Tom Riddle Jr. and whoever else I decide to pair together. Please read and review this, and if you have any questions, either leave a review stating the question or pm me. Warnings as well= Dubledore Bashing and Weasley Bashing (Really only Ron and a little bit of Ginny.) Might be some Character Death, Cursing etc.