Bad Ideas
Disclaimer and Introduction
First, to get it out of the way, the disclaimer: I don't own anything marketable, and as I don't make any money from this, I encourage everybody to try and claim all the money I make with this. This is true for all the chapters – If you need a reason for the lack of repeated disclaimers in further chapters, see my forum ("Terra Arcana", to be found somewhere on this site... if the admins actually included a less complicated way of finding those than following a link in my own profile...).
This does not mean my break from Terra Arcana is over. Heart of the Eclipse requires constructive creativity, which I currently lack. For reasons and further explanations, see my forum ("Terra Arcana", to be found... oh, just read the previous paragraph). For even further explanations PM me – I don't bite. Regularly.
This is my "wild plot bunny" cage. No two chapters in here belong together, and I hereby give permission (where I'm permitted to do so) to copy, paste, modify, extend, laugh at, wipe your hinquarters with, or otherwise use these stories. For constructive (and publicly mentionable) uses, I would be honoured if you were to mention me, though.
This is also my "bad ideas" file. I come up with these when I'm either bored or, as is currently the case, overworked. I consciusly recognize these story snippets as oneshots or not concludeable within reasonable amounts of time – whether or not you try anyways is your own decision.
Some of these, like the first, will be various crossovers, but the main theme will always be HP, so it's labelled that way.
No further comments – PM me if you need reasons for that, too.
... And in the darkness bind them
'Incompetence can be a blessing', Harry thought, 'if it's somebody else being incompetent. Thank you, Wormtail, for being utterly brainless.'
Harry's thoughts were caused by the fact that, while cutting Harry's arm, Wormtail had actually cut the rope binding the boy to the gravestone, too – enough for Harry to quickly free himself and tackle Wormtail to the ground before he could reach the cauldron.
'Now', Harrys thoughts continued after he had wrestled the dagger with his blood from the rat-faced man's hand and punched the ex-marauder's lights out, 'how do I ruin this? Because, really, I obviously have to ruin it, otherwise Voldemort might just gain a body...'
The latter was rather obvious. After all, the previous lines of the ritual had already said that much. "Renew your son" and "revive your master" weren't really subtle hints at all. The next line would probably be another synonym, tailored to his role, and probably start with "re-" once more. Something like "resurrect" maybe.
Point one: Break the alliteration. That was easy – he really couldn't think of anything good beginning with "re-" when it came to Voldemort. "Restrict", maybe, but that was rather harmless – a good start, though.
What he really wanted was to prevent any further attempts to revive Voldemort. How to do that, though? Well, it certainly wouldn't help if he once again managed to escape in his "shadow and vapour" form. Harry would have to catch him somehow... imprison him... bind him.
Point two: Use a lie. Up to now, Wormtail used at least half truths.
'At least, I really hope that he didn't actually want to cut off his hand for this... Oh, a snake. A conveniently familiar snake... what did Voldy call her? Nagini?'
He absentmindedly cleaned the knife by wiping it on his shirt. 'What I wouldn't give to know a good cleaning spell right now...'
He struck and caught the snake by the head. And suddenly, he grinned. 'Perfect.'
"Lifeblood of the familiar, willingly given – you shall bind your owner!"
With these words, Harry cut off Nagini's head above the cauldron... and, for good measure, just dropped her in completely.
This was where it got tricky. There were subtle signs for this – the potion bubbling ominously, for example, or Voldemort's high pitched laughter echoing about the graveyard.
"Bind me, Potter? To what, exactly, are you trying to bind me? I cannot be bound, least of all by some boy who doesn't even know what he's doing!"
Harry rolled his eyes. Why did the villain always have to give away the information necessary to defeat them? It was like they didn't even try to succeed. Still, Voldemort was right – he had no idea what to bind the dark bastard to.
He fingered the chain around his neck, thinking hard about things to bind dark spirits to. Somehow, he doubted that binding a dark spirit to a dagger was a good idea, so that was out. The rope would probably dissolve, and he needed the unconscious rat-man (he punched him again, just to make sure) alive.
His fingers encountered the two rings on the chain, and Harry smiled. Those were his parents' wedding rings, given to him by Lupin after his third year. Apparently, the werewolf had kept them as reminders of his best friends.
Rings...
He knew what to do.
With a sad smile, Harry took his father's ring from the fine gold chain – which had also once belonged to his mother. Anything from his mother was far too precious to be used for something as trivial as binding a dark lord, though, so one of the few reminders Harry had of his father would have to do.
"You know, Tom, I think words and their associations might just have as much power as precise rituals. At this point, I'm certainly willing to try. Goodbye, Tom."
He took a deep breath.
"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul,
Ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."
He dropped the ring into the cauldron. With a high-pitched scream, the potion in the cauldron seemed to boil away in the span of five seconds, leaving behind a cauldron containing a single golden ring.
A golden ring with fading, glowing red lines along its surface.
"Wow... it actually worked. I'll have to thank Hermione for letting me read those books..."
When Harry arrived at Hogwarts (after carefully arranging Cedric's dead and Wormtail's living, but unconscious, bodies so he could take both with him by portkey), several teachers, ministry employees and Harry's friends hurried to surround him, asking him about what had happened. Harry had to wait for Dumbledore to silence everybody before he could answer, though.
"First, this man is Peter Pettigrew – betrayer of my parents, one of the people responsible for today's events and the one who murdered Cedric. I'm willing to repeat this under an oath and the influence of veritaserum, by the way."
There were shocked gasps all throughout the crowd, which was still growing.
"Second, he was trying to resurrect Voldemort – failed though." This time, the crowd's response mostly consisted of relieved sighs.
"Third... Hermione, where is Mount Doom?"
Now, that had the whole crowd confused... for ten seconds. Then, it was the whole crowd minus Hermione, who let out a horrified gasp.
"Harry, tell me you didn't."
Harry just grinned at her and threw a simple golden ring at the headmaster, who caught it.
"Ash nazg. The answer can be found in books."
Then, he turned and walked towards the castle, Hermione hurrying to catch up with him. Harry was smiling – for once, he had spoken in riddles to Dumbledore.