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Gringotts, part II.
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They were speeding down the dark tunnels, making sharp turns in a maze of passages, going still lower and lower. Their fully loaded cart was tilting dramatically in every winding and each of those sways was accompanied with menacing creaking. Harry, who found it upsetting since he (unlike his friends) had visited Gringotts before, leaned forward to discuss it with Griphook, yet before he could utter a word, the cart suddenly took a sharp turn left and rushed straight toward a roaring waterfall which appeared out of nowhere right in front of them.
"No!" Griphook screamed and pulled on the brakes, but to no avail. The cart was no longer under his control. Just a second later they flew into the stream and Harry felt a copious amount of water fill his mouth, eyes and ears. He could not breathe and did not see anything; he only felt that their cart violently flipped over, sending them all airborne.
Before they could be crushed against the wall, Hermione screamed some incantation and Harry felt his momentum change instantly. Instead of a powerful impact, his body only lightly glided down to the bottom of the passage.
"C-Cushioning Charm," Hermione stuttered out as Ron helped her stand up. But to Harry's great dismay, she no longer looked like Bellatrix Lestrange. She was once again herself, only soaking wet and stumbling in her overly large robes. Even Ron's beard was gone and his wavy hair was once again short and flaming red.
"That was the Thief's Downfall!" Griphook croaked out and clambered to his feet as well.
"It washes away all enchantments and magical concealment," he added and turned his eyes away from the flood, which was more than just water. "They have set off defences against us which means..."
His gaze fell at Harry and he froze - all remaining words died on his lips. His yellowish, deep-set eyes blinked rapidly as he took several unsteady steps back.
And Harry stared back at him, confused. Terror twisted goblin's face into a grimace, but Harry did not see any reason for it.
"What's wrong, Griphook?" Hermione asked, stealing the question from Harry's tongue.
The goblin wasn't able to find proper words at first. He merely pointed his shaking finger at Harry and his mouth moved helplessly.
"Must be him..." he finally wheezed out.
"It must be him!" he repeated, his small eyes bulging a little. "He's going to kill us!"
Driven by instincts, Harry looked around fast, but when he saw no threat in his vicinity, he glanced down at his own hands, which were still unnaturally long and pale. Only now he realized that for some inexplicable reason he remained in Voldemort's form. None of that, however, explained Griphook's inadequate reaction.
"Quit that nonsense!" Ron laughed it off nervously. "It's our Harry, of course! We're just lucky that he didn't change back yet."
"You foolish, narrow-minded wizard!"Griphook sputtered out, taking a few more steps away, his eyes roaming between Harry and Ron. "The Thief's Downfall removes every magical concealment. Every one! This person cannot be Harry Potter!"
And without waiting for anyone or anything else, Griphook spun on his heels and galloped away much faster than Harry would have expected. Soon enough, only the dull sounds of his boots could be heard echoing down the long, dark passage.
"Griphook! Come back!" Harry called after him, raising his wand in an attempt to stop him, but the goblin was gone already.
"Damn!" Harry hissed, berating himself for hesitation. It would be a mistake to chase after him now, since the goblin knew these underground tunnels far better than all three of them together. Besides, they didn't have much time left; Harry could easily hear the distant voices of their pursuers approaching them from above.
"W-who are you? You - you are not Madam Lestrange!"
The new voice caught Harry's attention and he looked back at Bogrod who in the meantime shook off the effects of the Imperius Curse and now was watching Hermione distrustfully. "You've tried to deceive me! You - you are impostors! Alarm! ALARM!"
Harry cast the curse again, this time even without thinking.
"Imperio!" he said and watched the goblin submit to his will once again.
Then he pressed his cold fingers to his sore temple and tried to quench his pulsing headache. He needed to stay focused and deal with this crisis the best he could.
"We need to keep going," he said quietly. "It's obvious that they are after us, so we must..."
Harry turned to his friends - and stiffened.
They were standing very still, watching him with fear and distrust over the tips of their wands, barely breathing.
"Where's Harry Potter?" Ron managed to ask tersely, though his voice noticeably trembled. "What have you done to him?-!"
"Ron!" Harry yelped out in disbelief. He took a step closer, but his friends retreated.
Harry stopped dead in his tracks, then hid his wand quickly and raised his empty hands. He was marginally aware that the voices were becoming much louder by every moment. If they did not hurry, they would be soon surrounded – and killed.
"For Merlin's sake, I am Harry Potter!" Harry implored, feeling how the gravity of this situation was crushing him. "Just when do you think Voldem-," Harry quickly caught himself before he could make another deadly mistake, "...he could possibly switch places with me, Ron?"
"P-Prove it!" Ron stuttered, still pointing the wand at him.
Harry groaned as if he was tortured. It must have been a scary sight, since Ron turned another shade paler.
"And how do you want me to do that?-!" Harry howled, but Voldemort's cold, toneless voice concealed his desperation.
"Your Patronus," Hermione suddenly spoke up and stepped forward, regardless of Ron's attempt to stop her. "Let us see your stag … Harry."
It was actually a great idea and Harry didn't hesitate a second. He imagined his friends believing to him again, he imagined absolute trust in their faces before he raised the wand above his head and called.
"Expecto Patronum!"
His silver stag erupted brightly in front of them and illuminated the dark corridor.
Harry watched it gallop away for a moment and then he looked back at Ron, who appeared to be on a brink of relief-induced faintness.
"Harry..." he whispered apologetically. "I'm so sorry. I ... for a moment I really thought that you're You-Know-Who! But it's only because – I've never seen a goblin scared to death before. I must say it affected my judgement a bit."
"Yes, just a tiny bit," Harry said bitingly as his stag dissolved into a shining mist.
"But why didn't you change back, Harry?" Hermione asked as they joined his side.
"How can I possibly answer that, when even you don't know the reason, Hermione? But look, I'll be happy to worry about it once we're safely outside, okay?"
"You're right. We must hurry and get to the vault first," she nodded.
"Well - I'm sorry I have to say that, but how are we going to do that without Griphook?" Ron asked nervously.
"We still have Bogrod. I'll try to order him to take us to the Lestrange's vault. He must know where it is," Harry said, pointing his wand at the goblin, who was still waiting idly beside them.
The whispered curse was once again followed by a sense of heady control that filled Harry's mind and flowed from his brain to the wand. Bogrod's expression turned momentarily blank, before he smiled obligingly, took the bag with Clankers from the ground and happily trotted away into the darkness with Harry, Ron and Hermione close behind him.
The corridor soon widened before them into a large dark cave where Harry finally saw the thing for which he had tried to prepare himself. And he was quite unsuccessful, if he wanted to be honest with himself.
It was a huge dragon, tethered by its rear legs to the rocky floor. Its scales were pale due to lack of daylight and its eyes were milky pink as if the creature was half-blind. It was attentive, though, since the moment they entered it opened its massive chops and spat a jet of fire at them.
Only Harry's fast Shield Charm protected them all from being burnt to cinders on the spot.
"Merlin's beard! I didn't see that coming! Good reflexes, Harry!" Ron gasped.
Harry suppressed the urge to explain to Ron that those were not his reflexes and rather took one of the small metal instruments which Bogrod was meekly offering him.
The loud ringing noise it produced had a surprising effect on the dragon, who tried to hide away in the most distant corner of the cave.
They sneaked around the creature quickly and finally made it to the vault's entrance. Bogrod then laid his hand on its metal surface and it disappeared, revealing the various treasures inside.
"Search, fast!" Harry said as they hurried inside the vault. He had described Hufflepuff's cup to Ron and Hermione, but if it was the other, unknown Horcrux that resided in this vault, he did not know what it looked like. He barely had time to glance around, however, before there was a muffled clunk from behind them. The door had reappeared, sealing them inside the vault, and they were plunged into darkness.
Harry lit up his wand. "It's all right," he said. "Remember what Griphook said. Bogrod should be able to get us out of here anytime we want. Now let's just..."
He didn't finish what he wanted to say. He could not – his pulsing headache suddenly peaked beyond any tolerable limit and the vault around him disappeared.
He was standing now in a dimly lit room in a semicircle of wizards, watching Travers's shaking back.
"What did you say to me?" he whispered coldly, breathlessly. "Say it again!"
"M-my Lord! I swear it's true! I just met Y-Your Highness and Bellatrix in the bank. I-I found it a little strange and therefore I decided to return to the manor immediately a-and make sure t-that you really left."
"I would never leave this place without my Lord's permission!" Bellatrix cried out as she crawled over to him. "And certainly not with some f-fraud, my Lord!"
"That's impossible!" Voldemort cried out, terrible fear possessing him when he thought of all the possibilities, when he considered the danger for his dearest treasure which was hidden inside the bank... "No one would dare to steal my identity! You must have been confounded!"
"But still," his voice sank into a low, dangerous hiss, "I must be sure! I must verify that the vault is safe! Follow me!"
No, no one could possibly discover his secret, he thought as he strode quickly down the long halls. But maybe the bank wasn't as safe as he considered it. Maybe he should hide his Horcrux on some better, safer place. Yes, he must do it, he couldn't risk losing another precious piece of his soul like he did when he foolishly entrusted his diary to Lucius Malfoy. No, he had to make all the necessary arrangements to protect the cup, but first he needed to have it safely back in his hands...
Harry's eyes snapped open and his body instinctively tried to curl in pain, but he couldn't move. He could only bite into his sore lower lip, breaking it open and tasting his blood again. He had no idea what had happened to him but he could feel at least a dozen of severe burns all over his face and hands.
"Harry! Harry, can you hear me?-!"
He managed to turn his head after Hermione's voice and nodded a little. She released the breath she was holding and quickly spoke.
"Harry, listen, everything here is scorching hot and it also replicates when you touch it! It was nearly impossible to remove it from you when you fell into it. You were also thrashing around, making it much worse – I - I had to use a Partial Body-Bind curse on you."
She removed the spell and Harry slowly sat up.
"It's all right," Harry said and shook his head. "I just couldn't stop it this time. Travers informed him about us and he's terrified. He's coming here for the cup! We may have only minutes."
His friends looked at each other and then back at him, aghast.
"I-I'm afraid that we don't even have minutes, Harry," Ron finally whispered and in that moment Harry realized that the loud clanking noise did not reside inside his skull, but it was actually coming from the other side of the vault. "However, we found the cup - it's over there," he added quietly and pointed his finger at one of the shelves close to the ceiling. "Unfortunately, it cannot be summoned by magic."
"I'll get it," Harry said resolutely, rose to his feet and quickly located the cursed object. "You wait by the door."
He made a few steps towards the shelf where it was deposited, but his long, wet robes, which now clung unpleasantly to his chilled body, caught on a couple of golden goblets standing dangerously close to the edge of a table. They tumbled down and instantly multiplied.
Harry cursed loudly. He was just fed up with that. He flicked his wand and tore off the hanging black fabric right above his knees. And then he started climbing up the shelves. Regardless how hard he tried, it was impossible not to touch anything. A countless replicas were bursting from beneath his fingers, burning his skin painfully, yet Harry coped with it since it was seemingly Voldemort's body which was getting hurt. The swelling treasure was, however, catching up with him, threatening to envelop him completely. But he was also getting closer and closer to the target.
Finally, finding a proper use of his unusual height, Harry leaned as far as he could, catching the elaborate handle of the cup in between his fingers. It was scorching hot as everything else and replicating just as much, but Harry held it tight. Unfortunately, the shelves didn't seem to be able to carry the weight of the treasure for much longer, and if some of them broke apart, Harry would very likely fall off and lose the Horcrux. He could not risk that.
"RON!" He screamed in his high-pitched voice and his friend who was standing waist-deep in the gold looked up.
"CATCH!" And with that he threw the Horcrux in Ron's direction. As the previous Keeper for the Gryffindor's Quiddich team, Ron didn't disappoint him. He caught the cup and didn't drop it. He quickly hid it under his jacket as it burned his fingers, then turned and screamed something at Hermione.
Harry didn't understand his words over the loud clatter of the falling replicas. The shelf he stood on still fortunately remained in one piece, so he tried to climb further up to the ceiling. Yet, the massive treasure finally caught up with him and now it was compressing his scrawny body with its immense weight and all Harry could think of in that moment was that he was not going to die by Voldemort's hand and neither by cold as he feared just few moments ago.
And then the wall of gold began to move like a sand and Harry was sliding out of the vault with it.
Once outside, he threw off the burning coins that left nasty marks on his skin and got up to his feet while trying to avoid the flashes of light coming towards them from nearly every direction.
"Stupefy!" he bellowed, casting the curse at the nearest attacker, and Ron and Hermione joined him: Jets of raw magic flew into the crowd of goblins, and although some toppled over, others unstoppably advanced. To make it worse, there was a reinforcement coming; Harry saw more wizard guards hurrying closer from the upper levels.
Most of them hesitated when they recognized him and Harry used that to his advantage, sending a couple of them to the ground.
"They are impostors!" one of the goblins screamed – and his voice sounded suspiciously like Griphook's. "The true Dark Lord is coming! Stop them! Stop them no matter what!"
The tethered dragon was greatly distressed by the flashing lights - it let out a roar and spat another gush of flame over the goblins. The wizards fled, doubled-up, retreating back the way they had come and momentarily cleared the way. Then a sudden inspiration, or perhaps a madness, came to Harry. Pointing his wand at the thick cuffs chaining the beast to the floor, he yelled: "Relashio!"
The cuffs fell apart with loud bangs.
"This way!" Harry screamed, still shooting spell after spell at the advancing goblins while sprinting toward the half-blind dragon.
"Harry – what are you doing?" Hermione cried somewhere behind him.
"Come on – climb up – quickly!"
"If they escape we're all dead!" Griphook screamed again and that seemed to motivate the hiding wizards for some action.
Before Harry could have climbed on the dragon's back after his friends, the whole area was once again under fire of violent curses. The dragon, stressed beyond any measure, opened its chops again and spat a massive burst of flames that cleared an escape route towards the surface. Climbing up quickly, he left Harry alone hiding behind a large pile of debris.
"HARRY!" Ron and Hermione screamed and tried to slide back down to him, but the dragon was moving up fast and they nearly fell off of its back.
Harry was left with no choice. He ran out of his hideout, stunned several wizards on the way and started his chase after the fleeing dragon.
He jumped from a rock to a crevice, and from the crevice to another protrusion, trying not to think much about the fact that he was actually surmounting distances which were far beyond human limits. His body felt strangely light - a little lighter and he could swear that he would be floating - while his eyes stayed intent on the dragon's massive tail, which was still swinging a couple of feet from his reach.
"Harry!" Ron yelled again as he carefully began to climb down the dragon's tail, regardless of the risks. He was holding on to the steely scales, but his feet were sliding on their slippery surface.
And they were approaching the surface fast– Harry knew that they couldn't be far from it now.
Then the dragon stopped for a second and Harry used that one last opportunity – he jumped and caught the large scales on the very tip of the dragon's tail.
The creature roared and with one mighty push it forced its way outside – to freedom.
The rubble was falling everywhere – Harry heard Hermione scream – and then Ron was screeching something indecipherable. Harry saw them briefly over the dust in his eyes: Hermione was hanging in the air while Ron was holding her hand in his slippery grasp, calling her name desperately.
And then the dragon swayed its tail violently and Harry hit the wall.
Something cracked loudly in his back and a sharp pain let Harry know that something was broken.
The air was knocked out of his lungs and he could not suck it back. His fingers grew numb and the wand slipped from between his teeth, where he held it during his pursuit. His mind clouded a dense mist and only a very small part of him was still aware that he was sliding down, falling and falling...
Something alive moved inside him – it pulsed like a second heart and trembled like a small child.
It made him open his eyes and whisper.
"Aresto Momentum."
He was falling fast and the air was roaring in his ears, but then it stopped and he fell to the ground. It didn't hurt much, so the spell probably worked even without his wand. Harry scrambled to his feet, uncomprehending what sort of magic was making him do that. He could not ponder about it though: if he remained lying there, he would be crushed within seconds by falling rocks. There was nowhere to hide – Harry threw himself to the wall, searching for some escape route from the boulders which were shattering all around him.
And there it was – a small opening, just a couple of inches wide and Harry crawled into it without thinking and then he was sliding through it like a snake – his body was long, scaly and black...
Harry lost it.
He forcefully suppressed whatever it was that controlled his mind – and his loud hiss turned into a scream. He instantly changed back into Voldemort's form and realized that one of his ankles remained caught in the aperture. He jerked his leg hard to release it and he eventually succeeded at a price of losing his shoe.
It was too dark around him even for his enhanced eyes and the rumble of falling stones was also slowly damping out. Yet, he could hear new voices; they were many of them and they were all quite close to him, but Harry could not focus on that.
He was hyperventilating, even though his chest hurt with every breath he took.
He simply could not understand what just happened.
Did he really fly after the dragon only to fall back down and then sneaked through the tiny hole in a form of a snake to escape a certain death? And all of that without a wand?
"I'm not an Animagus!" Harry gasped out. "I don't know how to change into an animal! This is – this is impossible!"
A violent explosion chased away all Harry's fleeting thoughts. A gust of fresh air and some light entered the cavern and to Harry's horror, he realized that he was back in the dragon's lair: the entrance to the Lestange's vault was mere twenty feet across from him. But, as he made a quick logical deduction, he couldn't have possibly fallen somewhere else so … he had to hide. Quickly.
As he squeezed himself into one of the cracks, he spared a brief thought on Ron and Hermione. Hopefully, they made it out without getting hurt and they would destroy the Horcrux as soon as possible. Even his capture was worth it.
Then someone entered the cavern and Harry looked out carefully to see who it was.
The next instant he wanted to melt away.
No way.
No fucking way.
Not yet, please.
But it was him, it was the Dark Lord, followed by a terrified crowd of goblins and wizards.
Voldemort lit up his wand: its piercing light created sharp shadows on his inhuman face.
Harry pressed himself to the wall, not even daring to breathe as the Dark Lord sniffed the air. He didn't see him perhaps thanks to Harry's black robes which made him disappear in the shadows. He could not smell him either as one cannot smell his own scent. So as long as he did not hear him … Harry had a small chance to live a little longer.
"M-my Lord, maybe we should chase the dragon first...," one of the Death Eaters - he sounded like Mulciber to Harry - said in a humble, hoarse voice.
"I gave Bellatrix and others exact instructions, Mulciber. They must catch them, but not kill them yet, especially if Potter's with them. And now be quiet – I'm sure I've heard someone here..."
His voice was cold and dangerous, but Harry could detect fierce uneasiness in each of his words.
"T-that is possible, my L-Lord," said one of the goblins. "There were many people caught down here when the ceiling had fallen..."
Voldemort didn't pay him attention. He surveyed the area quickly, while Harry still clung to the wall in that small crevice, feeling how his fingers quickly grew numb due to cold.
Finally, the Dark Lord spoke.
"Open the vault!"
A sturdy, dark haired man in whom Harry recognized Rudolphus Lestrange rushed forward, briefly knelt by Voldemort's side and then he and three goblins stepped closer to the vault's door which was once again sealed.
Harry could feel Voldemort's building fear, which threatened to take over him again. Harry refused to give in to that this time. He bit into his fist, resisting the waves of terror which were washing over him when the vault was opened and everyone could see the utter mess inside.
The replicas were gone though, and a few more goblins hurried inside, doing a quick inventory.
"Is something missing?" Voldemort whispered breathlessly. "Tell me – is something missing?-!"
Harry knew what the answer would be and he dreaded the consequences – not for Voldemort, of course, but for everyone else – including himself.
Because he couldn't hold on to that wall for much longer...
The tense minutes passed quickly and then the goblins returned from the vault with Rodolphus, who apparently did not want to be the messenger of the bad news, since he quickly returned to his place far behind Voldemort.
"So?" the tall, emaciated figure hissed icily. "What did they take?" he asked in a voice no one would dare to disobey. "Tell me!"
Harry gritted his teeth not to yelp out when Riddle nearly lost his struggle with a panic attack once he saw the goblins' hesitant, fearful faces.
"Only a ... a s-small golden c-cup m-my Lord...," one of the goblins stuttered out.
The scream of rage and denial shook the whole huge cavern. Harry's teeth tore into his flesh as an immense, overwhelming pain nearly ripped his head apart. Voldemort was crazed, frenzied and Harry didn't know how to face those emotions – they were washing him away, destroying his determination to stay silent, but he still held to it by the remnants of his steely will.
He could hear how Voldemort screamed the worst curses, he could hear the bodies falling to the ground heavily as the Elder Wand slashed through the air, yet he couldn't move an inch to stop it – he couldn't do anything. If he tried, if he moved just a little bit, he would break apart and lose his sanity as well...
People were racing back to the carts, desperate to escape, to save their lives, while the slower ones were left to be slain one after another until nothing – nothing could be heard.
But Harry was living the turmoil of Voldemort's thoughts. He was experiencing the horror, disbelief and rage that his deepest secrets were discovered and that his life, his most precious existence was threatened. He was in his body now, pacing the place filled with dead bodies, thinking of each of his safety anchors to immortality. And as he did so, calm very slowly began to return to him.
The boy couldn't possibly discover anything about the ring – he had hidden his connection to the Gaunts, the killings had never been traced to him. The ring had to be safe. And the idea of Potter overcoming protections he placed around his locket was ridiculous.
As for the school, it was probably the safest place of all – only he alone knew where he hid the Horcrux, no one else could possibly find it...
And concerning Nagini, he has to keep her close now; he can no longer send her to any missions – he must ensure her safety...
The thoughts continued to flow like a river, yet it was physical discomfort which returned Harry back to his body. He could no longer feel his fingertips, which were hopefully still pressed into the little cracks in the wall. The worse thing was that he had no strength left and he couldn't breathe properly. It was only a matter of a very short moment before he would fall out of his hiding place right before the furious Dark Lord.
Go away, go away, go away...
Harry repeated the words over and over in his head like a mantra, but Voldemort still hesitated, still plotted something, until finally, finally he turned away and strode out of the cavern towards the spare, empty carts. A second later, Harry heard one of them rattle away.
Harry slid down from the slippery crevice since he could not hold himself there for another second. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to take a deep breath. He could not do that; some of his ribs had to be broken and he also felt physically sick from the sight of numerous dead bodies all around him. It was mind-numbing. But he also refused to succumb to lethargy; he had to keep moving, he had to get out of this place too.
Heavily, he pulled himself to his feet and stumbled around the corner, hoping that one of the carts was still there.
And it was, but Harry could only wish for the opposite.
"I knew that someone else was hiding...," an icy cold voice began and died away instantly.
For a second, Harry wished that he would too cease to exist in that simple, unobtrusive way. Voldemort, very likely, yearned for the very same thing.
But right now he was shocked to deaf silence.
If anything, Harry was not surprised. He raised his head and met the equally blazing stare. That was, however, where most of their similarities ended. Voldemort's skin was pure white and unblemished, his robes were dark and rich and his posture was mighty and commanding.
Harry, on the other hand, was dirty, covered in burns, beaten, his shoulders were hunched as it helped him breathe, and his clothes were currently nothing more than a piece of a rag.
Seeing 'himself' in that state was apparently something Voldemort could not easily process.
It took him a good minute to do as much as blink his eyes.
After that horrible pause, in which Harry was subdued to that disapproving stare, Voldemort finally asked icily.
"Who are you?"
It was a silly question, at least from Harry's point of view. It only illustrated Voldemort's deep conviction of his absolute inimitability.
"Your conscience?" Harry answered tiredly, a trace of resistance resounding in his voice.
Funnily, Voldemort did not respond right away and it seemed that he was actually considering it.
If Harry was in a better shape, he would probably play this game a little longer, but right now he could not find the energy to keep fighting. He was just too exhausted.
"Honestly," he added when Voldemort remained silent. "Who do you think I am, Riddle?"
The thin, colourless lips twitched a little and the gleaming eyes narrowed.
"Potter," the dark wizard whispered in a voice he would use to spit a curse. "It is you, isn't it? Who else would dare to think about … to even consider..."
Voldemort's voice faltered due to his building rage, but his wand was faultless. It flew up, pointing directly at Harry's chest. Harry glanced down at his empty hands from habit. There was not much he could do at this point. But from the good side, he was at least going to see his parents soon. And Sirius. And Dumbledore – yeah, he definitely wanted to talk to him about a couple of things.
"Accio cup!" the Dark Lord said instead of killing him directly and he looked greatly disappointed when nothing flew towards him a moment later.
"What have you done to it?-!" Voldemort hissed furiously. "Where is it?"
Harry knew that it would be very stupid of him to play dumb right now. For some reason, Voldemort did not kill him or torture him yet and he was certainly glad for that. Every second felt like a special bonus, but it could not last forever.
"Even if I knew," Harry replied grimly, "I wouldn't have told you."
The pale fingers tightened its hold on the wand, but no curse left it.
Harry looked straight into that furious face, and though it appeared to be beyond control at the first sight, he noticed a hidden struggle beneath the surface. It made Harry wonder what was holding Voldemort back – he was after all wandless and utterly helpless.
"I can figure it out even without you," Riddle finally spoke in a haughty tone. "It was taken by one of your little friends, wasn't it? They may have stolen it, but I assure you, Potter, that once Bellatrix deals with them, she'll bring it safely back to me. But for now...," he stepped forward, still pointing his wand at Harry. "What shall I do with you, Potter?"
There was something really off with him. Voldemort would not have asked Harry something like that – he would have simply killed him, if he decided against torturing him first. Yes, Voldemort appeared to be tremendously bothered by something; he seemed to be torn by indecision.
It was probably due to Harry's complete exhaustion that it took him so long to identify Voldemort's insurmountable problem. Harry glanced once again at his own long, spidery fingers, then he slowly touched his burned face and finally, regardless of the pain residing in his chest, he laughed out aloud.
"I've always thought that you wanted to kill me, Riddle," he said with a false grin, which had to look pretty menacing on Voldemort's face. "So, why am I still alive?"
Harry spread his arms wide. "You have an incredible chance to end it right now!"
Voldemort was growing more and more angry and frustrated before Harry's eyes. The Elder Wand shook slightly in his hand, his eyes were livid and his whole body was taut, but he still did not act.
Harry let his hands drop and his forced smile disappeared just as fast.
"Give it up," he said blandly. "You know you can't do it. There's nothing you fear more that the sight of your own corpse. You can't kill me and you'd better finally admit it to yourself."
The Dark Lord's hand dropped a little – but only a little.
"Perhaps I can't kill you," he confirmed Harry's surmise softly, but then his white lips curled into a ferocious grimace.
"Now," he added menacingly and before Harry knew, he was hit straight in the chest by a powerful Stunner.
R&R