Harry Potter and the Ring of Sauron
Chapter 10: One Ring to Rule them All
The silent corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry felt darker than ever on this particular night. The faint moonlight, accompanied by the even fainter light of distant stars, did little to dispel the tense atmosphere that permeated the group of students moving stealthily through the corridors. Harry led the way, leading his companions on the shortest route from Gryffindor Tower to Headmaster Dumbledore's office. Ron and Hermione stood right behind him, continuously glancing from side to side, looking out for anyone who could spot them. Behind them, Zack and Siliana marched on, likewise maintaining a lookout. Sil, on her part, also occasionally glanced back towards Neville. The latter, who kept near the back, was nervously following the group closely. His gaze shifted to Harry's left robe pocket from time to time. On one occasion, Harry noticed Neville's fixated stare, and he reacted by instinctively bringing his hand to cover his pocket.
Harry resisted the sudden urge to touch the One Ring. As he felt the shape of the Ring lining the outside of his pocket, he let his mind drift on what they had all just learned. Looking out through the windows as he walked, Harry gazed at the night sky and all the stars. He thought about Zack and Sil's claim that the Ring had come from some far away world, out in the vastness of space. The though immediately led to the more controversial part of their assertions: that beyond the boundaries of their universe, there were other worlds filled with life. The infinite weight of the endless possibilities that such a revelation had as repercussions toiled deep in his mind. He wondered if there might be a simpler way to explain it, something that maybe he and Hermione had not considered, that perhaps would relieve some of the consequences that came with Zack and Sil's explanation. But if all they had said was another lie, he wondered, then where did the One Ring fit into the equation? Had they not all seen how they had been swallowed in anger for no reason, and had they not all heard the dark speech? All that he was certain of was that, no matter what the truth was, the Ring did not belong at Hogwarts.
Harry's thoughts returned to the situation at hand when he heard Zack's wristwatch beep once more. "What is it now?"
"Another red shift," he answered. Zack tapped his watch in seemingly random motions, the machine replying with varying tones and other odd sounds. Though Harry couldn't decipher what the strange device was apparently showing him, Zack was becoming more concerned by the second. "This is getting bad," he said. "We're dangerously close to rendering the situation irreparable. We've got to get that Ring to Dumbledore's office soon."
"That's the third time you mention this red shift thing," Ron pointed out. "Just what exactly do you mean by that?"
"Red shift is merely our method of describing how deeply this reality is contaminated by outside sources," Siliana commented. Hermione did not try to keep a straight face and frowned instead. Apparently, she was not too happy with both what she considered to be further lies and Sil's lecturing tone.
"And right now it's in the orange zone," Zack continued. "If it hits red, then nothing can be done to repair the damage. We've got to somehow get rid of the Ring before…"
"Before what, Mr. Lockhart?" a snide voice interrupted him. As the students turned a corner, they were stopped abruptly by perhaps the worst sight they could have encountered in their present predicament. In front of them stood Professor Severus Snape, arms crossed, and giving the group his most contemptuous stare. Ron and Neville immediately paled at the sight, while the others nearly jumped back in surprise.
"What are you doing here?" Neville asked out of reflex. Snape raised an eyebrow.
"I was just about to ask the same thing of you all, Mr. Longbottom," Snape replied calmly. "Now, would one of you explain what you are doing wandering around the corridors in the middle of the night, or should I deduct one hundred points each?"
"Well, sir," Harry stammered, cursing at himself for not having brought his Invisibility Cloak, "Neville wasn't feeling too well, and so we all thought…"
"Spare me your cheek, Potter," Snape spat. "Tell me the truth."
Before Harry or anyone else could react, Sil stepped forward defiantly. "Step aside, professor. We have a pressing matter to discuss with Headmaster Dumbledore, and it does not concern you."
Harry's eyes practically swelled open when he heard Sil's reply. He looked back towards the elf, mouth ajar, staring at her with a dumbfounded expression on his face. All the other students, as well as Snape, stared at her, equally shocked.
"I beg your pardon, Miss Aldez?" Snape asked, more stunned than furious.
"Do not hinder us," she answered. "The more time we waste here, the more dangerous our situation becomes."
The looks of stupor continued unabated. Snape's wore off first, and he responded by giving Sil the coldest, nastiest glare he could muster. "I don't care about your situation or your royal status, princess," he hissed. "If you address me in that contemptuous tone again, I will have you expelled immediately."
"Do as you see fit," Sil continued, her tone unwavering, "but unless you wish to see the alliance between Royal Elves and Hogwarts terminated, I suggest you step aside."
For once, Snape did not reply. Harry could see he was not defeated yet, but rather appeared to be planning his own response.
"You can't hide the truth from me, girl," Snape snarled, curling his lips into a devilish sneer. "I highly doubt your time traveling friends will terminate their alliance with us just because of your royal temper tantrum."
Now it was Sil's turn to be stunned. Both she and Zack echoed the original looks of surprise she'd caused, while Harry's and the others' continued unabated. Snape smirked slightly at the sight. "You know?" Zack uttered in disbelief.
"Oh, I know all about you, Mr. Strife," Snape said, hissing the last word in particular. "Dumbledore found it wise to inform Professor McGonagall and myself of the true nature of your presence here."
Harry, Ron and Hermione reeled with Snape's admission of knowing Zack and Sil's explanations. Had they, Harry wondered, been telling the truth?
"Ok, fine, so you know," Zack conceded. "So I guess there's no harm in telling you that our business with the headmaster has to do with a nasty case of otherworldly contamination."
Snape raised a curious eyebrow. Zack's statement had apparently caught a slight interest in the Potions Master. "How urgent?"
"Let's just say it's something that would make our time traveling friends, as you say, shiver in their uniforms."
Snape's icy glare scanned Zack's face meticulously. The dark-haired professor narrowed his pupils, searching for any hints of deceit in the boy's figure. On his part, Zack kept completely still, meeting Snape's penetrating glance head on. All other eyes kept scanning between the two, with no one daring to break the uncast spell. As Snape barely opened his mouth, a collective breath was held.
"If the problem is not as severe as you make it appear, I will see you expelled. Understood?" A collective sigh broke through the students.
"If that's what it takes, then be my guest," Zack smirked. Sil could almost hear as a vast number of muscles relaxed.
"Snape's agreeing with Gryffindors? The world must truly be ending," Ron whispered to Hermione. She did her best in holding back a quick snort.
"Follow me," Snape ordered them. Swinging his cloak, the professor turned his back to the students and began walking down the corridor. Zack and Sil followed first, with Ron and Hermione close behind. Harry allowed himself to exhale in relief once more before picking up the pace. He let his hand drift for his left pocket.
He felt nothing.
"It's gone?" he wondered out loud, frantically patting the outside lining of his robes. The other students, along with Professor Snape, stopped in their tracks, turned around, and faced Harry.
"What do you mean it's gone?" Ron nervously inquired.
"I mean it's gone!" Harry answered, digging into every pocket and hole in his robes. "The Ring is gone!"
"What ring?" Snape asked, eyeing Harry suspiciously.
Zack was quick to cut off the professor: "The contaminant."
"Where is Neville?" Sil conjectured. It was then that everyone noticed that he was also missing from the group.
"Wherever he went, it seems he took this ring you spoke of," Snape stated almost casually.
"Well, let's go find him, then!" Ron exclaimed. Turning around, he began to run down the corridor, but Zack caught his shoulder first.
"Not so fast, hotshot," he said. "How do you propose to find someone who's turned more invisible than by using an Invisibility Cloak?"
"You'd rather we just stand here and do nothing?" Hermione countered.
"Well, of course not, but…" Sil said.
Harry's mind raced to find an answer. Despite lingering questions about the veracity of the whole situation, he was still convinced that the Ring represented a great threat. He knew they had to find Neville fast before he did any more damage to himself or others. But he had to admit that Zack had a point. How was he supposed to find someone who was so invisible that not even Siliana's enhanced senses could detect him?
The answer struck him so suddenly that he jerked his head up.
"What is it, Harry?" Zack asked him.
"Professor," Harry said, addressing Snape, "please go with Zack and Sil to the headmaster's office. Ron, Hermione, follow me." Before Snape, Zack, or Sil could mount any protests, Harry had grabbed Ron and Hermione and dashed down the corridor.
"What're you thinking?" Ron asked his friend, bewildered.
"The answer to Zack's question," Harry replied hastily. "We use the Map." At this, Hermione beamed.
"That's a fabulous idea, Harry! Even if Neville put the Ring on, the Marauder's Map should find him!"
The tree students backtracked through the same route they'd just taken, this time not bothering to check for any people who might spot them. They quickly reached Gryffindor tower, and Harry ran up to his room to grab the Map. He immediately dashed back down to the Common Room, Map and wand already at hand. Unfurling it on the table, he raised up his wand and said: "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Instantly, the scroll reacted, revealing a detailed map of Hogwarts. Tiny dots appeared at random locations on the piece of parchment, describing the location of each person inside the school grounds. Harry, Ron and Hermione began carefully examining the map for any signs of Neville.
"Ok, so the others made it to Dumbledore's," Ron said, pointing at the representation of Dumbledore's office on the map. On it, four dots were converging, each one carrying one name out of Lockhart, Aldez, Snape, and Dumbledore.
"Funny how the map doesn't think it's Strife," Hermione commented.
"But where's Neville?" Harry said. "I can't find him!" Scanning over the Map again, the three came to the unnerving realization that Neville was nowhere to be found.
"Is he gone from Hogwarts?" Ron wondered.
"No way," Harry mumbled, "unless the Ring acts like a Portkey too…"
"Wait! There he is!" Hermione pointed to a seemingly empty spot on the Map. "You can barely see it, but he's there," she said. Inching closer, Harry stared at the spot Hermione was pointing to. At first, he didn't see anything. From what he saw on Ron's face, he gathered his friend wasn't seeing anything either. As he strained his eyesight, however, he barely noticed a faint dot moving out of the castle and into the grounds. On top, the dot carried the label of Longbottom.
"This Ring is powerful," Hermione commented, "if it can make the wearer nearly invisible to the Map."
"Doesn't matter, since we found him anyway," Ron interjected. "Let's go!"
***************
Harry, Ron and Hermione carefully followed the Marauder's Map in search of Neville. Hermione had been given the charge of giving directions, since she could see Neville's faint dot on the Map best. Their search led them through the outside of the castle, as Neville's position on the Map sometimes faded, only to reappear somewhere else entirely. Before long, they'd covered Hagrid's cabin, the lake, and even the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Ron had almost given up hope of ever finding him when Hermione frantically started pointing to the Quidditch fields.
"He's there!" she said, breaking into a jog. Harry and Ron followed close behind. When they reached the pitch, Harry suddenly felt a little apprehensive. Whereas he'd normally seen the Quidditch fields filled with at least more than five people eager to watch or play, now it was too quiet for comfort. Looking to his side, he noticed both Hermione and Ron were a bit stiff in their shoulders, echoing his sentiments. The very air in the field felt heavy and cold, and Harry wondered if the Ring was even slightly responsible.
"Neville?" he yelled out. His voice echoed throughout the empty field. There was no response. He looked around instinctively, even though he realized that if Neville was still wearing the Ring, there was no way he could see him.
"Maybe he left already," Ron commented as he too gazed around.
"No," said Hermione as she examined the Map once more. "He's still here."
"Neville, we know you're here, please come out!" Harry shouted loudly but non-threateningly. After a few moments of tense silence, the nothingness finally spoke.
"You'll just take it away again! You and those two freaks! You can't do this to me!" Hermione and Ron began looking around, trying to pinpoint Neville's location. Harry, on the other hand, kept still.
"Neville, you've got get rid of it," he said. "Look, let's just go talk to Dumbledore, he can sort everything out."
"You're just jealous!" Neville retorted. "You want my precious for yourself, don't you?"
"Neville, just listen to yourself!" Hermione intervened. "You're obsessed over that trinket!"
"This trinket," Neville hissed, "is going to help me make a better life for myself!"
"No it's not!" Harry countered. "Neville, you've got to listen to…"
"You don't know what it's like!" Neville yelled out. His voice carried anger, guilt, and sadness rolled up in one. "You can't imagine what being so helpless and stupid and afraid all the time feels like! You're not the one horribly failing every class all the time! You're not the one who gets picked on by the Slytherins every other day! You're not the one…"
"And you're not the one who has to live with the burden of Cedric's death on your shoulders! You're not the one with the burden of having Voldemort having made your life a living hell ever since the day you were born!" Harry's breathing became heavy. Hermione and Ron recoiled back at Harry's sudden outburst, and Harry was sure Neville had too. As he realized the severity of what he'd just said, he wondered if his anger had been edged on by the Ring or not.
Though he tried to regain his composure, Harry kept his head down. "I'm sorry, Neville, I just…" he shook his head, trying to clear up his thoughts. "Listen, I know you've been through a lot, Neville. I know the Slytherins can be a bunch of misbegotten gits, Malfoy in particular. I know what it's like to be doing horribly in Potions. And… I know what it's like to lose people you love," he added, trying to sympathize with Neville's near-orphaned state. "But I also know that this Ring isn't going to help you in any of that. I know Zack and Sil were making no sense back in the Common Room, but I agree with them in that this Ring is dangerous. Neville, you've got to trust me, you've got to get rid of that Ring as soon as possible. Please!"
The air became even heavier. The hoot of nearby owls felt disturbingly loud. Ron and Hermione kept looking at Harry, whose breathing had almost returned to normal. For a few uncomfortable moments, silence took over the fields. Just as Harry had given up hope, Neville's voice finally rang out: "Can I… can I at least take it to Dumbledore myself?"
Harry, Ron and Hermione let out a sigh of relief. "Sure. We'll be right with you, but yeah."
They waited for Neville to reappear, but after waiting for a full minute, Ron said: "Uh, can you at least take off the Ring so we can see you?"
The trio heard Neville give out an uneasy snicker. They had to wait for another moment as Neville struggled to take off the Ring. Harry wondered if the Ring's hold on its bearer could be that strong, and if Neville was already beyond help. Just as Harry took a step forward to see if he could help him, Neville reappeared a few meters ahead of him, breathing heavily, tensed up, and holding the Ring in his fingers. As soon as it was off, Neville sighed audibly and relaxed.
"There, now," Hermione said, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Well," Neville began, "it was, but…"
No sooner had he started to speak that a blur zoomed past him. The humanlike figure, mounted on a broomstick, kicked Neville right on the face, sprawling him on the ground. As he fell, Neville's hand jerked upward, tossing the Ring high into the night air. The trio ran towards the fallen boy, who was instantly knocked unconscious. Before any of them could react, the zooming figure dove again, catching the Ring in midair. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stopped in their tracks in front of the boy, their faces filled with rage as they recognize the mounted Slytherin.
"Malfoy!" Ron shouted. "You slimy git! Give it back!"
Draco did not respond. He gleefully cast his snide grin towards the three other students. Wordlessly, he lobbed the Ring in midair, caught it again, and sped off into the night.
Harry fumed with rage. Malfoy just had to show up at that precise moment. By the way he'd come and gone, Harry knew Draco was well aware of the prize he'd just gained. "That blasted son of a…" With a single movement of his wrists, Harry dove into his pockets, procured his want, and exclaimed: "Accio Firebolt!" A few moments later, Harry's first class broomstick hurtled down from Gryffindor Tower. Harry mounted the Firebolt the instant he'd caught it. "Hermione, give me the Map."
"You're going after Malfoy?" she asked. Harry nodded in reply.
"In that case, give him a good wallop from we, will you, mate?" Ron said, punching his own open palm. Harry grinned as he took the Marauder's Map from Hermione and examined it for a second. Kicking off the ground, he sped off in hot pursuit.
The chase turned out to be less intense, yet more frustrating, than Harry had originally expected. Instead of zigzagging through the sky in pursuit of Malfoy, Harry found himself flying in a straight line, making a beeline for the Forbidden Forest. Compared to an intense game of Quidditch, this chase was rather dull in comparison. Looking at the Map, Harry closely watched as the dot labeled Malfoy kept heading straight down the forest, not making a single turn. As he approached Draco's location, Harry dove into the forest canopy, dodging branches left and right.
"Dammit, Malfoy, give it back!" he yelled out, even though he really couldn't see Draco anywhere. As he avoided a tree branch to his left, Harry examined the Map once more. Malfoy was still heading off, but Harry could see he was catching up to him. Harry looked up once more just in time to barely avoid another branch to his right. He swooped lower, ducking under a thick log. Once he was low enough to avoid the majority of the treetops, Harry checked his and Draco's position on the Map again. This time, he saw that Malfoy had stopped in a clearing just a few meters ahead, at the very point that the Map ended. Harry tucked the piece of parchment into his robes, exchanging it for his wand, and sped out to the clearing.
The forest became less dense as the distance between Harry and Draco diminished. As he closed up on Malfoy, Harry slowed down and dove low into the ground. He levitated inches above the forest floor, hovering his way inch by inch. With every passing second, Harry's heart began beating faster, pumping increasing amounts of adrenaline through his body. He wrinkled his face slightly as his scar began to pulse along with his heartbeat, the discomfort growing slowly as he neared Draco's location. Once again, the air began to grow heavy, until Harry could see his own breath in the air.
"He's close," he muttered, sensing the same corrupted atmosphere as in the Quidditch field. The forest suddenly gave way to a vast, dark clearing, devoid of any trees save for a few shrubberies and mossy rocks. Standing right in the center with his back towards Harry was Draco Malfoy, his broom gripped tightly on his left hand, and holding what appeared to be the Ring in his outstretched right hand.
"Malfoy! You can't run! Give it…" Only after Harry had sprung into action that he noticed the figure standing in front of Draco. The sight of this person, covered entirely from head to toe in black robes, sent a spasm of pain searing through Harry's scar. Grunting, he held his left hand over his scar, holding the pain back. For a moment, he closed his eyes in an attempt to alleviate the pain. When he opened them again, he realized, to his horror, that he was now seeing double: aside from seeing Draco and the man, he was seeing through the man's eyes, looking right back at Harry. His scar burned once more, but Harry was too mesmerized in what he was seeing. A pang of fear ran down the entire length of his spine, his every nerve pulsing with horror as he recognized the dark man. The robed figure lowered his hood, and now Harry was gazing at both himself and the grinning visage of Lord Voldemort.
"Well, well, well," Voldemort drawled, his voice a venomous hiss. "Harry Potter… What a pleasant surprise." Harry was too shocked to respond. Voldemort's red eyes gleamed at Harry, savoring the boy's paralysis. Through the Dark Lord's eyes, Harry saw himself in his petrified state, mouth agape, his own eyes wide and his pupils shrunken. Draco stood unmoving. "I did not expect you to find us so quickly. Nevertheless, I'm glad you are here, Harry."
Reaching down, Voldemort extended his hand towards Draco's outstretched one, which was still holding the One Ring. The instant Voldemort touched the Ring, the pain on Harry's scar tripled, nearly knocking him off his broom. Harry unwillingly witnessed as Voldemort grasped the One Ring and began examining every inch of the simple band. A mad gleam became immediately noticeable in the Dark Lord's eyes, as his wicked smile grew larger. "Witness as I discard my abysmal Muggle heritage and achieve the status of a god!" Grasping the Ring with his thumb, index and middle fingers, Voldemort slowly began sliding it into his left ring finger. For an instant, the pain on Harry's scar subsided, enough for him to turn his broom around and dash out of the clearing. He stopped seeing through Voldemort's eyes just as he had almost finished sliding the One Ring into position.
Harry flew in a straight line, making a beeline for the castle grounds. "This isn't happening… this isn't happening," he kept muttering to himself. His scar still hurt tremendously, but Harry was more concerned about the fact that now Voldemort had obtained the Ring of Power. As he flew back to Hogwarts, he didn't pause for an instant or bothered to dodge any small branches and twigs, which were beginning to scrape and cut into his skin. Far off in the distance, Harry suddenly thought he heard a deep, echoing laugher encompassing the whole forest. Looking back for an instant, he saw what seemed like a faint shadow following him, dashing and jumping effortlessly through the dense trees. Harry sped onward, pushing his Firebolt to its limit as he careened onwards towards the school grounds. Looking back once more, he still saw the faint silhouette following him closely.
The forest suddenly disappeared from Harry's view, replaced by the familiar fields of the Hogwarts grounds. In front of him, the Quidditch stadium zoomed in closer. Harry dove through one of the entrances, heading straight for the growing figures of Ron and Hermione, who were kneeling in front of the still-unconscious Neville. As he reached them, he willed his broom to stop in what would have been a screeching halt, which nearly sent him toppling off.
"Harry? Are you all right? You look terrible," Hermione commented as Harry jumped down from the Firebolt.
"Dumbledore… we've got to warn Dumbledore…" Harry mumbled.
"Warn him of what, mate?" Ron asked him. "And what happened to you?" Ron and Hermione tried to hold back Harry, who was struggling to get free and run back to the castle.
"Voldemort…" he said, "It's Voldemort… got to warn Dumbledore… Voldemort…"
"You-Know-Who's here?" Ron yelled out. "How? Where?"
He did not have to wait long for his answer. Hermione wordlessly tugged on Ron's sleeves and pointed his sight towards the entrance to the field. Standing on the entry arch, half covered by shadow and darkness, Voldemort looked back towards the trio with his malevolent red eyes. The three immediately noticed that they were glowing bright red, as if set on fire.
"He can't get in," Hermione said desperately. "Dumbledore wouldn't let it… He's got to have put some sort of barrier against him…"
As if on cue, Voldemort extended his right hand past the arch and into the Quidditch field. Instantly, a glittering silver wall of magical energy coalesced in front of him, denying him access. The Dark Lord pressed hard into the barrier, but to no avail. For a moment, Ron and Hermione looked slightly more relaxed. To their surprise, Voldemort's face reflected amusement.
"It's no use," Harry pointed out. His voice was shallow, hollow, and almost echoing defeat. "Not enough… he has the Ring…"
Again acting as if following a script, Voldemort raised his left arm at the magic wall. His eyes began glowing brighter, as did his ring finger. When he touched the barrier, the once placid form of energy began swirling chaotically, changing from its healthy silvery hue to a sickening green. Effortlessly, Voldemort pushed his hand through the wall, the ring around his finger glowing brighter as he did so. Grinning, he began to walk forward, passing through the dying energy with ease, until his whole body was through the barrier. Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at the dark figure in front of them, horrified at the prospect of two great evils united. Voldemort looked back triumphantly at the barrier. Looking forward again, he let his gaze drop down to the glowing Ring. Finally, rearing his head back, he let out a sickeningly loud echoing laughter. Through his shocked state, Harry felt half proud and glad, as he felt all the intensity of Voldemort's final moment of ultimate triumph.
Harry pulled all the strength he could muster to stand up. Together with Ron and Hermione, he turned around and began running straight for the castle, unceremoniously dragging Neville along his ankles. Harry hadn't taken three steps when his feet locked into place and he fell hard onto the moist, grassy ground. Next to him, Ron and Hermione crashed face first as well. They tried to struggle back up, but found that their arms, legs, and the rest of their bodies had been immobilized. Using their still mobile heads as leverage, they slid sideways onto their backs. In front of them stood Voldemort, his left arm extended towards them.
"Very impressive," he said, savoring every passing second. "Why bother using a wand anymore, when a wave of my hand casts a stronger body bind than ever?" He laughed out loud once more, sending chills through the trio's immobile spinal cords. "This… One Ring… is quite a marvelous piece of craftsmanship," he whispered ominously, still transfixed on his new acquisition. "So much energy… so much power! I could easily conquer the entire wizarding world by myself with this ring! And I shall start… with you," he said, pointing his hand at Harry.
As a jet of red-black energy shot out from Voldemort's hand, the ground in front of Harry, Ron and Hermione trembled violently. Suddenly, a massive humanoid figure jumped out from the soil. The rock golem extended its massive hands out, covering the trio from the brunt of the spell. A bright flash of light erupted as the spell collided with the golem, forcing the trio to shut their eyes as best they could. When they reopened them, they found that the golem had been obliterated by the spell, leaving only a few chunks of blasted rock.
"Sorry if my rocky friend spoiled your fun, Voldie."
From the corner of his eye, Harry barely saw as Zack marched into the stadium, accompanied by Sil and, to his relief, Dumbledore. As the newcomers marched past the fallen trio, Harry noticed several new accessories the two students were brandishing. Sil had discarded her Hogwarts robes in favor of a less constrained outfit. The tight blue body suit she wore now ran through the entire length of her body, save for her torso and her back, which brandished two different red drawings in a white background. Harry had noticed that the front sported what seemed to be some sort of mythical, Egyptian-like eye, while her back showed three perfectly equilateral triangles, joined together to form another equilateral triangle. Sheathed on her back was a finely crafted bow, weaved with gold threads around the delicate wood, with a quiver full of arrows hanging near the weapon. Her hairpin was gone, letting her golden hair flow wildly with the cold wind and displaying her elvish ears for all to see.
Zack, on his part, had also done away with his school uniform to wear a mercenary's outfit. Harry noted, with interest, that the suit was exactly like his supposed father's. The black, leathery suit had no sleeves to speak of, save for a large shoulder guard on his left arm. His hands were covered with dark brown gloves, and his feet were laced up with large boots. Zack's most interesting new acquisition was the massive broadsword he held on his back, which was completely rectangular save for its right triangular tip. Harry thought that Zack was at least familiar with the blade, for he held it onto his back with only a single hand. His pose reminded Harry far too much of the picture of Cloud they'd seen on the book.
"Hello, Tom. It has been a long time." The headmaster was wearing his usual long, purple robes, which flowed down right unto the floor. His wand was already clutched tight in his hands, and his voice was serious and commanding, almost intimidating. Voldemort, however, was unfazed.
"Yes… it has been long… Albus," Voldemort hissed. The sound of the Dark Lord casually mentioning Dumbledore's first name made Harry all the more nervous. They'd just lost the only known effective weapon against Voldemort: his fear of Dumbledore's power. "You've gained a few more wrinkles since last I saw you."
"As have you," Dumbledore answered as calmly as before. "This new image you sport is also rather new."
"Yes, wonderful how my body is now a part of the shadows, isn't it?" Voldemort's body suddenly vanished, cloaked by the darkness that surrounded him. For a few moments, only his faint shadow remained under the moonlight. He shortly reappeared in the same place he was before, though his figure was still blurred. "Ironically, I owe all of this to Harry Potter."
Voldemort snorted maliciously as numerous pairs of eyes squinted slightly, Harry's most of all. He'd done nothing to give the Dark Lord the Ring; it was all Malfoy's fault.
"Ah, yes, I can sense your thoughts, Harry. Don't be surprised; you know we share a powerful bond. You're wondering how I came to know about this little artifact I now wield, don't you?" Voldemort took a few bold steps forward. Sil unfastened her bow and brought it to ready stance, while Zack gripped his sword tighter. Voldemort eyed them curiously before continuing with his story. "It all started on your first Quidditch match of this year, Harry. When I was informed that you had been literally petrified, I was naturally interested about who, or what, other than myself would wish to kill you so. Someone that can wield enough power to turn people to stone is an unwanted source of competition. Of course, I'd sent my Death Eaters to investigate every possibility, but the worthless minions were never able to decipher the mystery. Until tonight.
"Using Malfoy's son as my eyes and ears, I learned of this artifact that the young Longbottom acquired. I had Malfoy steal the Ring for me, as I could not enter the grounds of Hogwarts and claim it myself. Needless to say, he succeeded in his task admirably. Now I am reborn yet again; I have ceased to be a mere wizard and become so much more. I am nothing short of a god of destruction, and soon, the world will tremble under the throes of my power!"
The air became thicker and the ground trembled under Harry's back as Voldemort tensed up, the dark power rushing out of him so quickly it could almost be touched. A terrifying sense of dread and fear, stronger than anything Harry had ever felt, coursed through the length of his body. Behind him, Zack and Sil grit their teeth and clenched their weapons. Only Dumbledore stood unmoving, though the twinkle in his eyes had nearly vanished.
"You should not be here, Tom," Dumbledore said, still sounding as calm as ever.
"Are you still surprised that I broke through your insignificant barrier, Albus?" he responded.
"Not at all," Dumbledore replied, his voice unchanging. "At least, not by what I see you now brandish." The headmaster lowered his gaze to meet the glowing ring in Voldemort's left hand.
"Quite perceptive," Voldemort answered, grinning as he proudly displayed the Ring.
"Which is precisely why you should not be here," Dumbledore repeated.
"Really, Albus? And what makes you say that?"
"That Ring does not belong to you nor anyone else on this world, Riddle," Sil interrupted with her commanding, yet matter-of-factly tone. "Relinquish it immediately, and you will be allowed to leave unharmed."
For once, Voldemort looked confused. He raised his eyebrows in puzzlement, his glowing red eyes gleaming towards the unfamiliar figures next to Dumbledore.
"And who are your new lapdogs, Albus, who refuse to tremble before me? Worthy candidates for St. Mungo's psychiatric ward?"
"No, but I hear you're on the top of their list," Zack countered wryly.
Voldemort nearly choked on himself after the ear-splitting cackle he let out. "My, my, Albus, it isn't enough you have crackpots teaching at this school, but now you're enrolling students who've lost their minds, as well?"
"If I were you, Tom, I would not discredit them so quickly," Dumbledore calmly pointed out.
Voldemort could barely contain his laughter, so much so that he had to hold his right hand over his stomach. His attention was still fixated on Zack. "Boy, were you born yesterday, or have you been living under a rock all your life? Do you even know who I am?"
"Oh, I'm well aware of who you are," Zack answered smugly, shrugging his free arm. "Not that that implies you're in my list of dangerous folks. Without that Ring, you'd be just a cheap wizard with a few good tricks up his sleeves, at best."
Voldemort's expression was slowly growing more frowned. "You poor, deluded child; let me enlighten you for a moment. I am Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard to ever live. I almost took over this wretched world if it hadn't been for the extreme luck of one Harry Potter," he emphasized, glaring maliciously at Harry.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, evil overlord tries to take over the world, blah, blah, blah. So what else is new?" Zack continued, waving his hand in mocking dismissal of Voldemort's speech. "Like you said yourself, you're just the worst THIS world has ever seen, Voldie. I wager you'd have a heart attack if the Ring's true owner found you with his precious."
The Dark Lord's eyes twitched again at the crude mention of his name. "Fine, then, child," he said, his voice no longer carrying any amusement. "I'm feeling generous right now. You claim you are my superior? I shall give you one chance to prove it." Voldemort lowered his hands into a diagonal position, leaving himself completely open for attack. "Come, then, and show me your best!"
Zack's grin disappeared. Bringing out his right arm, he unsheathed the massive blade on his back. He spun the sword in midair, which emitted a swishing sound as it cut the wind. He brought the sword down with his strength, digging into the ground with it as he did so. Zack brought his free hand onto the hilt of the sword and, in an unexpected move, knelt reverently. Everyone watched as Zack, in his kneeling position, began whispering under his breath.
"Pater noster, qui es in caelis… santificetur nomen tuum…"
"What's he doing?" Ron barely said through his tightened lips.
"Is he... praying?" Hermione wondered. Voldemort again laughed.
"Good, good, boy," he said mockingly, "now you can ask whatever god you worship to grant you a quick death."
As Zack continued his prayer, and Voldemort laughed once more, Harry noticed that Dumbledore and Sil were taking a few cautious steps back. Soon, he felt as his whole body was dragged back on the ground. Looking to his sides, he saw that Ron and Hermione were also being dragged along with him. Just before Zack finished his prayer, Harry saw as Sil and Dumbledore stood in front of them, lowering their hand and wand respectively from their former position aimed at the trio.
"I have no intention of dying today, dark one," Zack growled. When he opened his eyes, they began to glow with an intense ethereal blue hue. As Voldemort reacted slightly from the sight, Zack ripped his sword from the earth, brought it behind his back, and yelled with all his might: "LIMIT BREAK: MATERIA RUSH!"
A massive gust of wind picked up through the whole stadium. Harry barely realized that the tumultuous breeze was only the byproduct of Zack, rushing straight for Voldemort at speeds faster than even a Firebolt could achieve. Before anyone realized what was happening, Zack was right in front of Voldemort, and by the time the dark wizard had reared his head back in surprise, the Keeper had plastered him on the side of the head with the front of his boot. Wasting no time, Zack spun around clockwise with the momentum of the kick, gripped the handle of this massive sword with both hands, and slammed the blunt edge into the Dark Lord's ribcage. Voldemort was sent flying down the remaining length of the field, coming to a crashing halt at the bottom of the middle goalpost on the right side of the arena. Zack finished his attack by landing gracefully on the ground, one hand still holding the sword, the other lying in front of his face, palm up, in a martial arts pose.
"Groovy," he said, smiling as he watched a cloud of smoke cover the goalpost.
Harry felt as if the impediment curse had taken over his mouth, because he was utterly unable to move it. Astonished and bewildered at Zack's display of force, Harry could hardly move his lips; much less actually ask how he accomplished the feat.
"What a rush! I've been penting up all my anger for the past six months to do that move," Zack chimed as he hurried back to the group. Now that he'd removed Voldemort momentarily, Sil and Dumbledore felt it safer to rush to the aid of Harry and the others. The three of them kneeled in front of the stunned group.
"Are you three all right?" the headmaster asked, his voice finally showing concern. Harry, still half amazed by Zack's so-called Limit Break, merely nodded.
"Only paralyzed," Hermione responded through involuntarily grit teeth.
"Is You-Know-Who…"
"Dunno," Zack said, cutting Ron short, "but if he wasn't knocked out by that, then he's still probably a big threat."
"Indeed, he is not unconscious," Sil said as she gazed at the settling dust. "He is recovering far too swiftly for a human. And he seems furious," she added, squinting her eyes.
"It's the Ring," Dumbledore said. "It must be confusing Voldemort for its true Master."
"Giving him a big power boost," Zack concluded. "So what do we do?"
Dumbledore looked around the small group resolutely. "Miss Aldez, please look after them. Remove the stunning curse and bring back Mr. Longbottom to consciousness."
"I do not know if I can, headmaster; the power of the Ring might be too strong for me," the elf answered, waving her hand over the four incapacitated students.
"Your best efforts will do, Miss Aldez," Dumbledore reassured her with a nod. Turning his head to Zack, he added: "Mr. Strife, come with me. Our trial by fire is about to begin."
"Yes, sir." Dumbledore and Zack stood up, ready to face Voldemort once more. Sil glanced up at the two with concern.
"May I remind you, Zack, that in this particular situation, Dumbledore's safety is also of paramount importance."
"You wish to take my place?" Dumbledore asked her, turning his head towards her.
"It would be wise to keep you far from the Dark Lord now that he has obtained the One Ring, sir. Indeed, perhaps I could be of more assistance in the battlefield."
"Sound logic, your highness, but remember that Voldemort also wishes me dead. Now that Mr. Strife has incurred his anger, he and I will be his primary objectives."
"So what's the plan, then?" Zack asked, sounding slightly more serious.
"His rage will probably be directed solely at you for now," Dumbledore replied. "You are to distract him as best you can. As you battle him, I will attempt to remove the Ring from his hand."
"Hopefully not by just walking right up to him, right?" Zack quipped. Dumbledore responded by gripping his wand and bringing it up to his face vertically. His expression had taken a form Harry had never seen before in his life. Sheer determination and power gleamed from the headmaster's face. "Right, stupid question," Zack added at the sight.
"Very well. May the grace of Din, Farore and Nayru be with you," Sil conceded, kneeling back down. Putting her hands above the four grounded students, she closed her eyes and began concentrating. Harry felt as a torrent of healing energy washed over him, almost like a stronger version of the anti-stunning charm. His attention, though, was fixated solely on the figure rising far off in the settling dust cloud. Voldemort's red eyes seethed with anger and fury, glowing ever brighter.
"You DARE to hurt me, boy?" he roared. "I will bathe this entire field with your blood for this!"
Zack's reply was echoed with one final smirk: "Come get some."
The figure of the Dark Lord was again enveloped in darkness as he blended into the shadows once more. Although no trace of Voldemort remained, Zack still rushed forward at blinding speeds, leaving a trail of wind and dust in his wake. Suddenly, a jet of red light shot out from the nothingness straight towards Zack. At the last second, the Keeper avoided the deadly curse and reacted by altering his course towards the origin of the spell. A second later, another jet of deadly light emerged, and Zack nimbly avoided it accordingly.
The fatal dance continued its course, each time the curse narrowly missing Zack, each time Zack gaining in on the invisible Voldemort's location. Before long, Zack was running around a fixed point on the field, his gaze glued onto the center of the circle he was tracing.
"Be still, you worm!" the nothingness said.
"Oh, come on, Voldie! Surely, you can do better than this!"
Now a whole gamut of different colored curses began to bear in on Zack. The sheer number of spells that poured his way forced him to avoid them in more elaborate manners. As the curses rained on him, Zack jumped, sidestepped, ducked, and spun around in graceful motions to avoid them. All the time, he still seemed mostly aware of Voldemort's general location. Even as the spells' points of origin began to move seemingly erratically, Zack was still able to avoid them, albeit with an apparent growing difficulty.
"Don't bother hiding, Voldie, I can still tell where you're hiding your ugly mug! And your stink helps too, I might add…"
"I'LL KILL YOU!"
Seeing that Zack had the situation under control, Harry strained his eyes to focus instead on Dumbledore. Due to Sil's healing efforts, it was easier for him to focus on the professor. The headmaster was deep in silent concentration, scanning the battlefield meticulously. His gaze was fixed on the general area Zack was circling. Occasionally, Dumbledore would discreetly point his wand towards the same location Zack was focusing on.
"What's he doing?" he asked.
"An ingenious strategy on their mutual part, Harry," Sil answered.
"I don't follow you."
"Zack's tracking You-Know-Who," Ron began, while Hermione concluded for him.
"And Dumbledore's watching Zack, guessing Voldemort's position from him, and trying to charm him into giving up the Ring. Brilliant."
Harry kept on watching the fight with renewed interest even as his limbs began to regain some of their motion. Now that he was aware of the plan, he noticed the harmonious synchronization between the headmaster and the Keeper. Each time Zack nimbly avoided a curse, another one shot out. At those instants, Dumbledore cast his own charms against the Dark Lord. The task was made all the easier by Zack's unending taunts against Voldemort, the last of which had taken the form of a melodious chant: "You suck!" Voldemort's anger was slowly taking the best of him, as his aim was becoming worse by the moment. Although at first it seemed no progress was being made, Harry eventually noticed that even though he couldn't see the Dark Lord yet, he was beginning to discern a moving, living shadow in the center of the battlefield.
"Zack, now!"
At Dumbledore's command, Zack shot straight for the moving shadow after dodging the last curse, sword drawn and pointed straight for Voldemort's hand. "Say goodnight, Voldie! This one's for..."
A crushing thud later, Zack toppled over onto his shoulder. Above him hovered the smirking figure of Draco Malfoy on his Nimbus 2002, his foot outstretched. "It's about time, child," Voldemort sneered. Though his cheek was starting to sport a small red bruise, Zack, unabated, rebounded from the ground with his free hand, pivoted around on it, and sprung upwards toward Malfoy.
"Big mistake, you fruit." Jumping swiftly over Draco, Zack slammed the hilt of his sword into the Slytherin's neck, knocking him flat off his broom and into the soil. He was unconscious before he completely fell off the broom.
Zack landed once again, this time coming to a rest in a completely standing position. He was utterly uninterested in Malfoy, paying no attention to his prone form. "Now, where were we?" he gleamed at Voldemort. The Dark Lord, still bathed in shadows yet more visible, calmly crossed his arms. Zack took his first step forward, yet it turned out to be his only one, for as he raised his foot to take his second step, he tripped on an unseen obstacle. Only his quick reflexes allowed him to somersault back into his feet. "What the?"
It was immediately evident that something was very wrong. Malfoy, though his composure still proved that he was unconscious, was stood up on his feet and facing Zack. He seemed very relaxed, as his head and arms hung limp. The empty look on his face reflected no worries, no cares, and most importantly, no thoughts at all.
"As you can see, my dominion over the Unforgivable Curses have been greatly magnified," Voldemort hissed, drawling so much that his voice echoed the same lack of worry. "Take the Imperius Curse, for example. Now I can control anyone I wish, even if they are near death." Immediately, Draco flung his whole arm into taking a swing at Zack. Though the latter avoided the attack, he was forced to keep avoiding hits as Malfoy continued to strike him relentlessly. "I will admit, boy, that you are an annoyance. Let's see how easily you are annoyed, shall we?"
In sharp contrast with Zack, Draco had no finesse, no strategy, and no technique whatsoever. His advantage, however, was his newfound immunity to pain. Though Zack had been forced to strike him repeatedly in an attempt to knock him out for good, Malfoy ignored the hits and continued his attack. In effect, though he was doing little damage, Draco had managed to gather all of Zack's attention.
That was precisely what Voldemort wanted. Turning back towards Dumbledore, he yelled: "Now, Albus, let us finally settle which of us is the stronger!" The Dark Lord again enveloped himself in shadows as he sent a jet of black energy careening towards the headmaster. Dumbledore swished his cloak and disappeared, reappearing a few meters to his side. Wasting no time, Dumbledore pointed his wand at the ground. Half a dozen vines shot out from the soil straight for Voldemort, binding him the instant they reached him. Voldemort smirked, and the vines were soon reduced to dust. Soon, whole waves of deadly curses rained down on Dumbledore, and for once, Harry saw that the headmaster was hard-pressed to avoid them.
"Come now, Albus, is this your best?" he mocked, gleefully swatting off a stunner charm Dumbledore had cast. Voldemort casually waved his hand, and the arena nearly erupted in flames as the Dark Mark appeared in front of him, shielding him from yet another spell Dumbledore sent his way. The green skull began laughing, and the snake in its tongue lashed out, attempting to bite Dumbledore. The headmaster defended himself by erecting his own defensive shield, which took the form of a majestic, glowing orange phoenix. The collision between the snake and the phoenix resulted in a brilliant flash of light that blinded the spectators. When the light dimmed, Dumbledore took one second to remove his hand from protecting his eyes. His hesitation cost him dearly.
"CRUCIO!"
For Harry, the world seemed to stop moving as he saw Dumbledore fall in a crumpled heap to the ground, his entire body shaking in excruciating convulsions. The small degree of movement Harry had regained due to Sil's healing disappeared completely as he stared at Voldemort, who was smiling broadly and slowly approaching Dumbledore's position.
"HEADMASTER!" Zack yelled out, still occupied with Malfoy. Draco was sporting several cuts from Zack's sword, but he still kept attacking, keeping Zack too busy to deal with the Dark Lord. Seeing his strategy was having no effect, the Keeper improvised. Hitting Malfoy once more, he swung his heavy blade and tossed it towards the nearby goalposts. The sword, spinning in midair, cut the base of the leftmost post, which came bearing down upon the fighters. Zack somersaulted back as the large pole landed on top of Malfoy, pinning him to the ground. Though the unconscious Draco kept struggling to get free, the weight of the metal bar was too much. With his opponent finally immobilized, Zack rushed to Dumbledore's aid.
"Crucio!" Although no flashy spell emerged from his hand, Voldemort's curse instantly hit Zack squarely in the chest. Zack kneeled over in pain, his body arching, twisting, and thrashing involuntarily with violent spasms. He grit his teeth, holding back screams of anguish. "Foolish child. The Cruciatus curse alone would have you on your knees. Thanks to this ring, the pain you must be feeling now must make you wish you were dead!"
"Damn you…" Zack barely mouthed.
"Just beg me to kill you, boy. Scream for mercy!" Voldemort now had both his hands pointed at Zack and Dumbledore. The weight of the curse had heavy tolls on the headmaster, who was near unconsciousness. Zack was now doubled over, using his hands as extra support to hold the weight of his body. Even so, he was still reluctant to grunt or even whimper. "Arrogant gnat! Why won't you scream? I know this hurts! Beg for mercy!"
"For what?" Zack said. Amazingly, he was almost laughing. "Relief from… a minor cramp? Compared to… the… training… my father puts me through… this is nothing!"
Voldemort's face twisted with rage. Save for Harry and Dumbledore, no one had resisted his efforts so much. And to Harry's knowledge, no one had mocked him so openly and relentlessly. The fact that Zack was resisting his efforts even when he possessed the One Ring must have been all the more maddening. Voldemort released his hold on Dumbledore, pointing that hand instead back towards Zack. Dumbledore's body finally relaxed, leaving him gasping for breath. On the other hand, Zack finally broke down, crashed to the ground, and screamed. "Congratulations, boy. You've earned yourself my unending wrath! I will take every pleasure in your slow, agonizing death!"
Voldemort reared his head back to laugh, but his smile twisted into surprise and pain. A bright, yellowish golden light erupted from his back, bathing his shadowy form with brilliance. Enraged, Voldemort turned his head back towards the spectators. There, he saw Siliana, who had stopped trying to cure the others, and had now brandished her bow. She was gripping her weapon with four fingers, her index saved for pointing straight at the Dark Lord. Her other hand had already holstered an arrow and pulled it back on the bow. The tip of the arrow glowed with a bright golden glow.
"The divine light shall pierce your heart of darkness!" Instantly, she released the arrow, which smoothly sailed straight for its target. The magical arrow hit Voldemort right on the chest, and the tip again erupted into the yellow explosion of before. The Dark Lord stammered back, the holy energy wreaking havoc with his dark powers. Before he had the chance to retaliate, another arrow again hit him on the chest. A veritable rain of uncannily accurate arrows bore down upon the Dark Lord, all of them hitting him near his heart. As Sil ran sideways to aid the headmaster, she continued her deadly assault, releasing arrows at an unbelievable rate. The moment she reached Dumbledore, she released one more arrow before helping him up and trotting alongside him back to the trio. Voldemort, though his tensed body and grit teeth proved he was suffering the effects of the attack, reacted quickly.
"You won't get away! Cru…" The Dark Lord did not have a chance to finish. Zack, who had been released from the pain curse, summoned his sword back from the goalpost and made a desperate assault on Voldemort. Yelling with vengeful fury, Zack brought his blade down on Voldemort's back, this time using the sharp side of the sword. Voldemort barely reacted in time, and although he tried to avoid the strike, the tip of the blade left a shallow, but long, gash that traveled the width of his back.
Zack careened straight past the Dark Lord and fell back down. His momentum carried him all the way to the others, where he came to a skidding halt in front of Harry. Sil arrived soon after, helping Dumbledore to stay standing. Zack had to lean on his sword to do the same. "We're in trouble, aren't we?"
"It seems we underestimated him," Dumbledore said solemnly. Harry and the others mournfully realized that the twinkle in his eyes had vanished completely.
"Do not despair, for we shall still taste victory today."
"No," Voldemort hissed as he rose. The wound on his back began emitting a vile smoke, and his eyes began to glow so red and hot that they almost erupted in flames. "The only thing you will taste, girl, is the bitterness of your own dead corpses!"
The chilly air became rancid with the stench of decay, the essence of evil becoming tangible all around the stadium. Harry could almost taste death all around him. Voldemort brought his hands up into the air, bringing in all the deadly power into him. Sil carefully but quickly set Dumbledore down and let loose with a flurry of magic arrows. As they closed in, however, the light in the arrowheads dissipated, the wooden bodies splintered into nothingness, and the rusted tips fell to the ground harmlessly, decayed beyond repair.
"Such evil," Sil whispered, lowering her bow in defeat. The group watched solemnly as Voldemort rose up, floating high into the air, as the essence of death he had summoned coalesced into a large sphere of misty green energy.
"Sil," Zack called to the princess, trying to break her from her stupor.
"How can he eliminate so many Light Arrows?" Sil said absent-mindedly.
"Come on, Sil!" Zack beckoned her, straining to keep up. "Your magic is the only thing that can protect us now!"
It took her a few seconds to respond, but once she did, Sil's counter was quick and precise. Sheathing her bow, she extended her arms to her side and raised her head up to the heavens. Up in the sky, the stars seemed to glow brighter at her silent command. At the same time, Dumbledore struggled to bring his own wand up. As he did so, a bright flash of light surrounded the group. The combined spell craft of the princess and the headmaster formed a transparent bubble of protective energy around the besieged group.
"That will not save you, Albus. That will not save any of you!" Voldemort yelled as he kept gathering more power. "You have all stood in my way for the last time!" The emerald sphere grew larger than the Dark Lord himself, until it fully encompassed half of the stadium.
Harry stared in fearful awe at the dreadful majesty of the moment. The sight of Voldemort using the One Ring to finish them off made him remember the final image of his prophetic dream. The vision of Voldemort wearing the Ring over the burning ruins of Hogwarts came rushing back to his mind. Seeing the look of hopelessness on Ron and Hermione's faces, the anguish in Zack's form, and the anxiety in Sil and Dumbledore's contours as they desperately tried to keep the spell wall in place led Harry to lose all faith. The last embers of hope died out in his heart, and he resigned his fate, because he now knew that they were all going to die.
***************
It was utterly inconceivable. The Ring seethed with unfathomable anger at the nature of its current predicament. How could it have been so foolish? As its new bearer continued to use its power to fuel his darkest spell, the Ring came to an enraging conclusion.
It had erred once more.
Its insatiable desire to return to the hand of its Master had blinded it to the simple fact that it was no longer on Middle-earth. Had it not made the same mistake when it confused that boy for the Halfling? Had it not already perceived that this mortal that wore it now bore similar, yet much weaker, powers as its Master? And still it had erred?
If it were alive, the Ring would have uttered every conceivable curse in all the tongues of Men, Elves, Dwarves, Ents, and Orcs to appease some of its anger. It could not fathom its own stupidity in giving its power to a mere mortal, giving him a taste of its Master's true power, when this Man was nothing compared to its Master. But the Ring had another method of exacting revenge.
This forsaken member of the race of Men had dared to use its power to attain his own goals.
The Ring would see that he paid dearly for that mistake.
**************
"Avada… KedAAAAAAHHHHHH!" The deadly curse backfired on the Dark Lord the instant he was about to unleash its power upon his hapless victims. The giant emerald sphere broke apart as its misty form exploded all around Voldemort. The Ring on his hand began to glow bright red in seeming fury and retribution, and in response, the remnants of the curse enveloped the Dark Lord. Harry's dread vanished and was replaced with sudden awe as Voldemort vanished in the bright explosion of green energy that followed. By the time Harry opened his eyes again, Voldemort was falling from the sky, fully visible, his body smoking and trembling. The Ring, still glowing, had fallen from his finger.
"Let's finish this!" Zack hollered. At once, the spell barrier dissipated, and Sil and Zack phased out of existence. Dumbledore commandingly stood up, holding his wand straight up. As Voldemort kept falling and weakly tried to reach the Ring, Sil appeared directly below him and fired one more Light Arrow. This time, the explosion from the arrow coalesced into several balls of holy, golden energy, which bounced back from the explosion only to turn back and envelop the Dark Lord. As Voldemort yelled in pain again from the golden light that now bathed him, Zack reappeared right above him, holding his sword with both hands over his back. Shouting with fury, he brought down the blade with all his might in Voldemort's direction, purposely avoiding cutting him. However, the sword's swing released a large shockwave of blue power that sliced through the Dark Lord. As the golden energy also dissipated, Voldemort painfully made one last attempt to reach for the Ring.
Dumbledore, however, denied him that chance. Concentrating his full power into one final spell, his wand began to glow with a radiant white light. From the tip of the wand, a thin beam of white energy shot towards the Dark Lord. As the beam collided, it hit him with the force of a Troll's punch, knocking Voldemort out of the sky and straight into the rafters. Voldemort slid down the wooden wall until he came to a painful rest on the field ground. He was in a coma by the time he hit the floor. In the middle of the field, the Ring fell without any sort of clatter or sound.
Through heavy breaths, Harry watched as Voldemort stayed down, seemingly drawing no air. From the corner of his eye, he saw as Dumbledore, Sil, and Zack fell to their knees, exhausted. His full attention, though, was still on the beaten form of the Dark Lord. In his heart, he felt a mixture of proud satisfaction and a pang of jealousy. Although he was somewhat bitter in not having taken a part of it, he was still glad to see that justice had finally been done.
After so many years of open and secret wars and so much pain, suffering and anguish, Voldemort had finally been defeated.