The Ritual of Thermopylae

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By: Anand Rao

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling.

A wave of dreadful déjà vu hit Severus Snape as he hung limply upside down, seemingly in midair. He glanced at the body of his young protégé, his blond hair matted thick with blood, his vacant eyes staring at nothing. He swallowed heavily and looked at the person who was responsible for his current predicament.

"Potter," he said carefully. "Put me down."

"Now, why would I want to do that?" Harry was obviously amused, and the smirk on his face was so much like his father. Snape held himself in check. Flying into a rage wouldn't help him now. Somehow, in the intervening months after his escape from Hogwarts, Harry Potter had become a force to reckon with. He couldn't read the boy at all; his normally open mind was shut tight.

Their duel had been embarrassingly quick. Snape had figured on just sitting back and letting Draco play with Potter a bit before disengaging and allowing the pathetic Gryfindor to return home to lick his wounds. He could not imagine how Potter would one day face the Dark Lord, and 'training' him through Draco seemed like a sound plan.

Only, he didn't count on Potter not actually needing the training. He didn't count on Potter actually killing Draco. Finally, he certainly didn't count on Potter disarming him. However, Severus was a survivor. He just needed to get Potter to listen to the truth.

"There are things I need to tell you, Potter. Things you NEED to know. Let me down, before you make an even bigger mistake!" His voice grew harsh near the end. He just couldn't help himself.

Harry leaned forward and smiled in a way that was worrisome to Snape. "There's nothing you can tell me that I don't already know," he whispered.

"Potter, you fool!" Severus exploded. "You don't understand! Dumbledore-"

Harry made a slashing motion with his wand, and Snape's head separated from its body.

"I understand perfectly."

Harry sat in the parlor in 12 Grimwald Place and waited. The wards were set and tuned to him. Hermione had completed the. . . special ritual early that morning. All he needed was for his guest to arrive. The house was empty, save Kreature, and the unnatural silence would have been oppressive for anyone else, but suited Harry's mood perfectly. He locked away his anger and rage, hurt and pain, behind a mental shield so strong, not even Voldemort could break it.

The wards hummed slightly, and Harry felt a presence apparate into the house. He was, once again, amazed at the power this person commanded. He truly was the greatest wizard of all time.

The door to the parlor opened, and Albus Dumbledore entered. "Hello, Harry," he greeted gravely.

Harry had purposely faced his chair away from the door. "Headmaster." Harry slowly stood up and turned to face the man he had once respected so much.

The two wizards stared at each other in silence for a few moments before Albus decided to speak. "Either you have succeeded in Occluding your mind, or you were already aware that my 'death' was a ruse."

Harry just inclined his head. "Both."

Albus nodded his head wearily and seemed to shrink before Harry's eyes. "Why, then, did you kill Severus?"

Harry smiled. "One time, you talked about choosing between doing what was right and what was easy. Do you remember?" Before Dumbledore could respond, Harry continued. "You forgot to mention that some decisions are both right and easy. Why did I kill Snape?" Harry held up one hand to his side, palm up. "I knew that killing him would flush you out of hiding." He waved his hand meaningfully. "Right." He held up the other hand in the same position. "I killed him because I hated him." He waved is other hand in the same manner. "Easy."

Albus stared at him in growing horror. "Harry. . ."

"The Order is broken, Hogwarts has fallen, and the Weasleys' are DEAD!" Harry snarled. "And you. . . decided to what? Take a break from the war? Hunt for the Horcruxes in secret? Give Snape more leverage with Voldemort? I don't care!"

"Harry, I know your pain. I feel it, as well! But your actions will not bring back the Weasleys. Hatred will not help you defeat Voldemort. You need to cast it aside, for the sake of the war and yourself!" Dumbledore urged.

"Voldemort?" Harry snorted in derision. "I've already got a plan for him." With just a thought, Harry activated the ritual.

Dumbledore suddenly fell to his knees. He felt tired and weak, as if he had over-taxed his magic. "What. . . What. . ."

"Is something wrong, Headmaster?" Harry asked, the picture of innocence. "Do need some hot cocoa? A lemon drop, perhaps?"

Dumbledore's vision started to blur. "How are you. . . What are you. . ."

"What you are feeling is the Ritual of Thermopylae." Harry smiled as Dumbledore's eyes widened in disbelief. "Ah, I see you've heard of it. Hermione found it in an old history book while researching a way to fight against overwhelming forces. You know, a handful of us against a hundred death eaters, dementors, inferi, and giants. Just like the 300 Spartans versus one million Persian soldiers."

Muggle history recorded that those Spartans fought using superior skill, courage, and training. This was certainly true. However, these Spartans were also wizards. They created a ritual that transferred the life energy of anyone who entered the mountain pass in front of them into themselves. The added strength was what allowed them to last as long as they had.

"Soon, all your strength, all your magic, will be mine."

By this time, all that was left of Albus Dumbledore was his hearing and the slow beating of his heart.

"By the way, you were right. This IS the power of love. My love for the Weasleys, Hermione, and Remus. I could not have done this to you, if I did not love them." Harry turned away and walked out of the parlor, leaving a cold dead body alone on the floor.

The End.