Pretty much just one chapter left! I hope you're enjoying!
Very close to the end, so I'm being dramatic. A few monologues this chapter, a few more dramatic bits; and a few revelations. Probably surprising. A longer chapter than normal.
Draco was not shocked, not at all; quite a feat considering the utterly insanity rampant in the hearts and minds of the all-but petrified people around him. The sudden appearance of Dumbledore had thrown him slightly; he hadn't expected it. Yet beyond that, he watched, mostly neutral, barely blinking when the Dalek killed the headmaster.
A cry went up through Hogwarts; a cry of anger, and fear, of surprise, dismay; full of conflicting emotions. A wild frenzy of feeling, no one knew how to feel, let alone what to do.
The blonde alone was silent, resignedly staring out, over the battlements. Lord Voldemort stepped closer to the castle; the Dalek remained behind him. Its eyestalk drifted for a moment; from Hogwarts, to the wizard, and back to the castle. For a few seconds, the eye turned full circle, surveying the horde of Death Eaters also; before it moved to again observe Lord Voldemort.
"I have again demonstrated my supremacy," Tom Riddle did not speak loudly, barely above an ordinary speaking voice; yet with magic, it sounded as if he were beyond the shoulder of every defender of the castle. "Do you still fight? I challenge you to surrender. Decide where your loyalties lie; if you believe that," a ghost of a smile curled his lips, "Magic is Might, and would join me, then you may live. Be warned that I will no longer accept treachery."
Silent seconds ticked past. The Dark Lord looked up; partly despairing, partly angered. He'd expected the sight of their headmaster dying once again would change a few of their minds.
He still didn't understand love, even a love more akin to respect.
"So willing to die," Lord Voldemort shook his head slowly, whispering. He took a few steps back, and turned once more; to face the imposing castle.
Gripping the Elder Wand tight, he raised his hand; "You are now all beyond repentance," his voice was quiet. "A pity Hogwarts no longer trains its students to be wise."
He raised the Hallow, preparing to strike a fatal, Hybrid spell-
The castle gates slowly opened; just one pair, towards the front, and they only opened very slightly. Ajar. The Dark Lord hesitated; watching the gates and the shadow just within.
Several seconds ticked past. Every now and then, it seemed as though someone was to step out; yet they always hesitated. Flickering; unsure. A hand might appear, then quickly be retracted once more. Yet there was no sense of nerves; when the man at last came out, it was with only a mild unease.
It was the Doctor; he stepped out of the darkness, clad in bow tie, tweed jacket, and grinning widely. With easygoing, assured steps, he moved along the uneven ground, stopping some metres away from the dark wizard and inhuman 'ally'.
Defenceless.
"Hello Tom," he remarked simply; no trace of fear in his tone, yet unusually, also no trace of compassion. Then, slowly, he looked sideways, looking deep into the blue eyes of the Scientist: "Hello Dalek," his voice was brimming with contempt; and though his eyes never left it, the rest of his actions sounded indifferent.
"It is the Doctor," the orange Dalek grated to itself, raising its weapon a small way.
"So it is," the messy haired, bow-tie clad man gad a mocking, almost scornful laugh. "And I walked out here, no weapons, as always, no shield, no magic, and, here, catch!" he withdrew the sonic with almost unnatural speed, throwing it lightly forwards, watching it clatter from the Dalek's body; "Not even a screwdriver. So, what are you going to do?" he held his arms to his sides, open; "Most importantly, what do you think I'll do?"
The Time Lord's gaze was intense, focused on the inhuman machine, glaring down the eyestalk. The Dalek seemed almost to shrink back; yet it kept its weapon raised, pointed at the Doctor.
"Daleks have allowed you to speak before," the orange Scientist grated, voice slow, neutral. The chilling monotone continued, matter-of-factly: "This was in error."
A split second passed; and without even its customary cry, a bolt of energy shot from the Dalek's gun, lancing through the air and instantly striking the Doctor's chest, exposing the bones beneath for a brief second. The Time Lord's eyes widened; he staggered back, arms and head beginning to shine with a golden light-
"Exterminate," the Dalek spoke, unnecessarily harsh: and another beam of energy struck the regenerating body, cutting out all trace of the light.
The Doctor's body fell to the ground; hair tousled, jacket covered in dirt. His body seemed whole, despite the recent view of the bones beneath the skin; and he wasn't moving. A second ticked past; then another. The Time Lord lay motionless on the ground.
"The Doctor is dead," the orange Scientist Dalek at last grated, unsettlingly final. Emotionless; almost emotionless. It felt a trace of triumph; the Dalek's oldest and greatest enemy, their perpetual nemesis. Now lying dead on the cold, pitiless earth, his prized planet.
Hogwarts again rippled in shock. The headmaster had died; and now the Doctor had died, because of that orange, alien creature. Voldemort simply stood by, seemingly victorious; yet tense. Even he did not trust the Dalek.
A huge intake of breath: the defenders of the school could but stare at the lifeless man, unable to do anything to help, even if they dared. Then-
"I don't think so!" a magically amplified voice echoed around the castle; a grin was audible in the so-familiar tone, making everyone freeze; everyone stare up, unable to see the source.
Even Voldemort seemed to gasp, though he scowled also, looking up to Hogwarts; the Dalek's eyestalk raised.
"That was a Boggart!" the Time Lord gave a laugh, before quickly sobering up; "And it's told me one more thing, Dalek. For all your claims of being free of emotion, there's still one more rattling about in those metal heads of yours. Fear; fear of just one person. Me." A brief pause; the Time Lord inhaled. The Doctor-Boggart on the grass seemed to almost dissolve, fleeing by its own magical means. "Because of that," the Doctor continued, "Because of that, I'll give you one more chance. Just one. Leave now."
The Dalek's eyestalk stared up the castle, unable to locate the Doctor, unable to see where he spoke from. Still, it didn't need to say anything. It remained still; like a statue. Staring. Infinitely patient.
"No?" the Time Lord sighed; "Thought not. But remember that Boggart? It's not dead; you shot it, but it's not dead. Funny thing about Boggarts, there's only one way to harm them; only way to do it is with laughter. And that's one thing you Daleks will never manage, isn't it?"
The metallic creature said nothing. The eyestalk simply glared up the stone walls of Hogwarts, trying to locate the Doctor, if it could.
"Come on, say something!" the Time Lord shouted; suddenly louder, despite sounding as if he were enjoying himself. "Or can't you say anything? Want me to speak up for you?"
There was silence once more; yet there was something warning in the Doctor's tone. Something hinting; at something that should be obvious, that he and the Dalek both apparently knew. That only he and the Dalek knew.
"Don't ignore me!" Lord Voldemort interrupted the Doctor's one-sided argument. The pale wizard stared up the castle, wishing that he could see the source of the voice; unable to do so, he flung a curse blindly upwards, watching it dissipate upon striking the stone.
The Doctor almost seemed to tut; the noise, amplified, still only just audible. He wasn't angry at the attack, and neither was he disappointed; he sounded almost pitying.
"Oh, Tom," a sigh; "Back to regular old magic then, is it?"
The Dark Lord hissed at that, before bringing his wand back; ready to thrust it forward. "Nihil-"
"I wouldn't finish that sentence, if I were you," the Doctor's voice quickly interrupted the Hybrid spell; "It'll destroy Hogwarts, judging by how it looked. And you really don't want to do that; you really should hear what I have to say first."
Voldemort froze, something in the Time Lord's voice compelling him. That, and the way the Dalek's eyestalk seemed to momentarily flare.
Though the Daleks were free of emotion, that was still forgetting one thing: sometimes, fear was logical. No one wanted plans to be ruined, to be taken away and ripped to shreds by a few careless words. No one wants to encounter the devil and be forced face him; knowing all the while that he's won so often before, in worse straits.
So, yes. Perhaps the alien was afraid. Only in the sense that it did not want a certain set of events to come to pass. Yet that 'fear' soon died down; the plan could not be ruined at this stage.
"Speak then!" Lord Voldemort shouted, voice carrying up to the peaks of the towers. "Tell me!"
The eyestalk turned. Normal intensity now; all possible outcomes had been calculated, none of which posed a threat. And so, the Scientist simply surveyed, observed.
"Thank you, Tom," the Doctor's voice quietened for a moment; before returning, loud; yet calm, intense. "Hybrid Technology. You've got it, right? Whole new spells, cast via the Elder Wand, most powerful of all wands. And how powerful does that make you? How-"
"More powerful than you!" Riddle shouted, interrupting the Doctor. He was about to continue, when;
"Does it?" the Time Lord's voice drowned out the Dark Lord's. "How long did that technology take to build? How long for the spells to be programmed? Whole new spells, most powerful wand… And you probably noticed, we dealt with your little trap. The stones of Hogwarts are no longer under your control; now, tell me Tom. How could we do that? Yes, a bit of Hybrid stuff, sorry about that. But not much; it took a few seconds to make, and a few seconds to switch back to normal, and there were no new spells involved. No fancy Hybrid incantations. Just good old fashioned, regular magic."
There was a momentary paused; the Doctor inhaled, exhaled, catching his breath. Voldemort absorbed the speech; the Doctor found himself smiling. This was what he lived for. The times words alone could change the tide of a war, the times all it took was the right voice to make even the most evil wizard pause for thought.
"The Dalek isn't helping you," the Doctor resumed his speech, breathless. "It doesn't care about you! It's not giving you any knowledge for your sake, it's giving you a few spells to experiment with, nothing more. I've been on its ship, destroyed it too; do you know what was there? A crystal ball, a Hybrid crystal ball. That's all they're interested in; getting enough knowledge so they can do what they always do. Kill. It's all a Dalek cares about. Murder. Death. Extermination. Bit strange that it's helping you, but not unheard of. Gives you enough knowledge to keep you on a leash, but not forever. Why would they want to help you forever?"
Lord Voldemort hissed at that; finding himself oddly enthralled at the Doctor's words, the Doctor's voice. Unable to think of what to say in response however, unable to do anything except stand there, listen, as the Time Lord stripped away his already fragile trust in the alien.
All the while, the Dalek stood there, eyestalk staring at the Dark Lord, watching. Slowly, its centre also began to turn; gun and sucker arm facing the wizard.
"You're being manipulated, controlled!" the Doctor's words were like blows; the Death Eaters shrunk back, Hogwarts listened in pity and hate; Voldemort simply stared. Frozen. His grip tightened around his wand; one of the two Elder Wands. The other, displaced in time, lay by his feet.
"And how long do you think it will last, Tom?" the Doctor continued his impassioned plea, almost shouting; "How long? Daleks don't care about any life other than their own; and no matter what you've done, no matter how close you get, you are not a Dalek. Not 'pure' enough," the Doctor mocked Voldemort's own ideals, watching the dark wizard begin to shake in barely suppressed rage. "How much longer do you think it's going to bother with you, Riddle?"
"As long as I command it!" the Dark Lord yelled in rage and fury. Burning. Flames were almost visible, rising from his suddenly tiny form; he raised his Elder Wand high into the air; "Remember the prophecy! Only Harry Potter may slay me, and I have killed him. I watched him turn cold. None may stand against me now!"
For the first time, instability was audible in the Dark Lord's tone. As if he didn't believe what he said. Still, he shook, the anger within him enough to incinerate almost anything else; the ground around his feet was blackening, turning to ash at the force of his wrath alone.
Things were not helped when the Doctor found himself unable to do anything except laugh; as if he could find something genuinely amusing in the scene.
"The prophecy?" the Doctor's voice was as loud as a shout, every syllable emphasized; yet his mood was oddly calm. "Do you really think that means anything now? Why would it? The Dalek gave you time travel, I've seen it. And you used it; sent Bellatrix whirling back through time. Angels, Slitheen, Daemons… You've twisted time, wrecked it, torn it into tiny shreds. What possible relevance could the prophecy have now? What does this timeline have in common with the prophecy? Harry has a power you 'know not'. Marked as your equal. Those were the terms of the prophecy: yet you have a power Harry does not, you're no longer his equal. The balance was tipped."
Lord Voldemort's wand, still raised high in the air, seemed to almost tremble. The grass burning beneath him wilted, rage extinguished by icy reality.
"Dumbledore almost defeated you, didn't you notice? Even with your supposed Hybrid Technology. You're more powerful than most wizards, yes; but any of them could kill you now. The 'one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord', it could be anyone. Anyone at all."
The Time Lord's voice was softer now, all anger taken from the confrontation. He seemed pitying, comforting.
"You were afraid of death, weren't you Tom?" the Doctor was almost whispering, watching as Voldemort lowered his wand. "Most people are. But you tried to stop it, tried to make yourself immortal. Horcruxes, trying to find the prophecy… all to remove your mortality. And look what you've done; look what you've done Tom! You've made yourself all the more mortal. Made it so anyone, wizard or muggle, could kill you. You were afraid of death? You've brought it even closer."
The Time Lord at last fell silent, the unseen source of his voice falling quiet. He let the wand fall from his throat, removing the magical amplification as he caught his breath; and rand own the stairs, peering out a window, beside Draco, to see what Voldemort would do.
There was nothing more to say. Nothing more he could say. Though it wasn't a pleasant thought, the next move was Lord Voldemort's.
The pale wizard slowly turned around; and for a moment, he seemed almost human again. Wand-hand fallen to his side. The glared at the orange Dalek.
"You knew," no more than a whisper; a whisper shaking, burning with ire. "You knew that you were destroying all that I've fought for."
A moment of silence. A heartbeat; the Dalek's eyestalk did not move, none of the orange machine moved. It met the Dark Lord's stare; a stare which would inspire terror in any human.
"Your fate is meaningless," the Scientist grated, slowly. The Dark Lord tensed.
One more moment of silence. Then everything happened.
"Avada Kedavra!" Lord Voldemort raised his wand, bringing it down like a hip, lashing the Dalek with green light; "Avada Ker Perago! Nihil Epir Seriz!" the deadly, Hybrid curses rained down on the orange, metal frame; one after another, a barrage of them, repeated over and over. Each was cast in a split second, battering against the cold, orange metal. The Dark Lord shouted each, building up to a crescendo, roaring, wrathful, Elder Wand shining with preternatural, Hybrid light in his hand.
"Avada Kedavra!" Lord Voldemort finished his blitz of curses, the green light momentarily flaring, blinding, before striking the Scientist Dalek; the green light dissolved to sparks as it struck the body of the creature.
And then there was silence. The Dark Lord stared, out of breath, anger temporarily sated as he stared at the alien. The lights seemed to have been extinguished; the eyestalk was dimmed, despite remaining, pointed towards the Dark Lord. And it said nothing; that hideous, grating tone was silent.
Lord Voldemort turned-
And in an instant, having been prepared for such an eventuality for so, so long, the Dalek lit up again. Eyestalk illuminated, and the bulbs upon its domed head lit once more for one more word: "Exterminate."
A bolt of pale, blue/white light. The energy leaped forwards through the air, striking the thin robes of the pale dark wizard.
The Horcruxes had all been destroyed. And now the Dalek completed the job; the skeleton of Lord Voldemort was, for an instant, revealed; and his lips parted, twisted into a scream. Agony.
He clung on to life, he desperately clung on, for once afraid, terrified of the blackness ahead of him. Lord Voldemort focused on reality, on the cold biting into his body, the burning pain of the Dalek's shot; he focused on life. One second passed; and he still screamed. He held on with sheer will power, amplified somewhat by magic, by the Hallow gripped in his hand. Everything he'd done was to avoid this; to avoid death, the ultimate, the unavoidable unknown.
Tom Marvolo Riddle screamed. And then fell silent.
He lay, motionless, on the merciless ground. The Dark Lord, the most feared dark wizard of them all, lay lifeless.
A hush fell on the castle; they should be celebrating, they should be cheering. But it wasn't time for that yet; they weren't free.
"The Daleks betray everyone," the Doctor murmured, softly, to himself. "In the end."
The Dalek turned slowly, eyestalk lifting to behold Hogwarts. Its central section turned; gun moving until it faced the castle.
"Exterminate," it again intoned; the Oncoming Storm was within Hogwarts. As were inferiors. The Scientist Dalek fired its weapon once; almost a warning shot.
"Protego!" Minerva McGonagall shouted; raising a barrier through a window slit.
The shield shattered; the beam of light barely hesitated. It pierced the recently repaired stone of the castle; one student could be heard screaming as death claimed them.
"Maximum extermination," the Dalek grated, advancing the power of its weapon to the preferred set-up to destroy buildings. Now it had gauged the strength of the castle; it knew how much strength it needed to kill everyone inside it with one shot. With Hybrid Technology, it had the power to.
Draco Malfoy stared out from inside the castle; wand gripped in his hand. Then, tensing, scowling, he pointed his wand out the window; "Accio Wand!"
With astonishing speed, the two Elder Wands whirled up into the air, through the window; Draco dropped his current wand to catch them both, one in each hand.
The Doctor glanced sideways; incredulous. Malfoy didn't noticed, gripping one in his left hand, and one in his right; he was careful not to let them touch. Somehow he knew about the temporal effect of two versions of an object touching.
"Come on, you stupid stick," he muttered hastily; "One of you knows me, you know I'm your wielder. Tell the other. Tell it!" he whispered almost madly; and as the Dalek raised its weapon, poised to fire, the blonde rolled his eyes; and, snapping, he touched the tips of the wands together.
A spark of light; the Hybrid Technology fell off the future Elder Wand, incinerated as it hit the floor. The time differential shorted out; a tiny explosion as temporal energy whirled around the Elder Wands.
A bitter smile curled the blonde's lips; he felt a familiar thrum of power in each hand. The Elder Wand was his now; he knew, one already had been. Now with that spark, they both were. It allowed a small paradox too; a fact he was grateful for. The temporal energy would have fixed that. Or something; it was what he remembered being told.
"Protego Totalum!" Draco pointed the two Hallows out the window, raising a staggeringly powerful shield as the Dalek fired.
The Elder Wand had been resisting Hybrid Technology; it was more powerful than the crude type Voldemort used, and as soon as its wielder wished it to be pure, it had cast off the machinery. Now, two of the most powerful wand in the world raised a shield; a shield immediately struck by a powerful, mostly non-magical, Dalek shot.
It rippled; but held. Without using the full potential of Hybrid Technology (a feat of which the creature was temporarily incapable, without great changes), the Dalek could not break Draco's shield. The most powerful protection ever cast. Two versions of the same Hallow, raising a defence from the creature.
"Draco," the Doctor whispered; pausing to look out the window, marvelling at the swelling light as it resisted the perpetual assault of the Scientist. "Well, that worked. Good plan!" he patted the blonde once on the back, the Time Lord turned, beginning to head down the corridor, a plan bubbling in his mind; before instantly spinning around again. "Wait, what did you say?"
"Protego Totalum," Malfoy muttered in response, dry; almost bitter. The Doctor rolled his eyes, watching as Draco repeated the words, the incantation a second time; this time, instead of mocking the Doctor, to recharge the shield outside.
"You said you were the wielder," the Doctor's throat was dry, frantically thinking; and only able to come up with a few explanations for not only that statement, but the rest of the blonde's actions. None of them were good. "The master of the Elder Wand," he hesitated; "How?"
"Because I don't want to die," the blonde said simply; looking back out the window. His hands gripped each wand tighter. "Dumbledore told me the details. Not Dumbledore; but the one you'd call Dumbledore. On the tower, the day he died; he spoke to me."
O
Lightning struck; the elder wizard stood on the edge of the tower, surrounded by blackness; piercing gaze looking inwards. Death Eaters surrounded him; a fight raged beyond them.
Snape took a step closer; the bearded wizard raised a hand, recognizing what was to come: "No, Severus, let the boy make his own choice," the greasy haired teacher stopped, slightly surprised; the pain in the headmaster's withered hand flared for a moment.
Malfoy needed to do this. Gain the trust of the Death Eaters for one; that would be invaluable with what he had to face.
Draco had one arm extended; wand held loosely. Shaking; fear was evident on his face. Thankfully, the Death Eaters behind him could not see it. Fear of becoming a murderer; but also fear of what would happen if he did not.
The elderly wizard walked slowly forwards, hesitating just as he stared down the tip of Draco's wand. Then, just as slowly, he moved forward, passed the student's hand; and bent a little, beard brushing the boy's cheek as he whispered to his ear.
As the elderly wizard spoke, Malfoy's eyes widened. Fear became increasingly resplendent in his expression: only to be replaced with resignation.
"I am not Dumbledore," the man's voice was barely audible, even to Draco. It was momentarily muffled by a crack of thunder. "He's going to die. He did die, when the Dark Lord attacks the castle. Next year. I saw it; just like you'll see it. Exactly like you'll see it. Dumbledore will try to defend Hogwarts, and fail. That doesn't matter. It's not important: this is important."
A brief second of silence; the bearded man who wore Dumbledore's body raised his wand; a wand formed of wood from the Elder tree.
"The Elder Wand, the Death-stick," the wizard breathed, solemn; "The most powerful wand there is. The master, the rightful wielder of this wand is unbeatable; except against those who are more powerful. And no one is more powerful; at least, no one should be. Hybrid Tech is though, but you'll hear about that later. The important thing, is that you are the rightful wielder; or you will be, when you kill me."
The blonde stared, disbelieving, forwards; he did not turn his head, eyes simply staring past the shoulder of the bearded man. He could not take in all he heard; yet knew he had to. Though he did not close his eyes, he disregarded all that he saw; focusing instead on what he could hear. On what the wizard whispered.
"Another important thing: the Dark Lord. Kill him. Not that easy of course, nothing ever is. He's created Horcruxes, containers for part of his soul. There are seven in total; and you have to destroy them. There's one in himself, then there's a locket, a cup, a diadem, a snake, a sword, Harry, and a ring. Those last two will be destroyed by then, they don't matter, and I know you'll forget one of those by next year anyway. Just remember the rest. Easy enough, or should be. You're still a Death Eater, and you won't be losing that brand. It'll fade once the Dark Lord dies, but not for long."
The elderly wizard again hesitated, drawing in breath; gratified to see the rapt attention that Malfoy was paying him.
He wished that this moment wouldn't end; but he could see the battle still occurring behind them. The storm outside rattled impatiently. And the wizard did not want to die: but there was no choice. He hated inevitability.
Time was still passing; despite the small bubble that seemed to surround him, time still inexorably ticked past. A pang went through his infected hand.
"That's almost everything you need to know," the elderly wizard paused, tense, "You know what to do, and you should know how to do it. You'll get two Elder Wands later. Don't ask, it'll be obvious. When you do, touch them together. I don't know the science, it's just what I was told; temporal energy or something, it'll flare. That instant will allow a paradox, this paradox. One will already recognize you as its wielder; you need the other one to know you as well. As for the paradox, it starts now. This instant. When you kill me, the current master of the Elder Wand, you'll become the rightful wielder. Then the Doctor will take you back in time in that box of his, with Polyjuice. The only possibility. And you'll die, right here, right now."
Draco stiffened at that moment, the elderly wizard's words starting to frame the truth, a truth that made the blonde shiver. Malfoy listened intently, hoping to be proven wrong. He was not.
"That's why you have to kill me. Because you know who's asking for it. When I step back, fire the curse. Do it. I'm poisoned, I'm going to die soon anyway; and I don't want to. I don't want to!" for a moment, the elderly wizard's impassioned whisper seemed to almost become a shout. A shudder ran through him. "What I want is to live for as long as I can, to live as much as I can. That's not how I'm going to live. That's not how you're going to live. I'd feel sorry for you, if I had any pity left. Don't look at me like that; when you stand here, you'll be feeling the same."
At the revelation, the elderly wizard slowly stepped back; a slight inconsistency in his mannerisms now just noticeable. Draco stared into the eyes of his older self; filled with a mixture of awe and fear. It was one thing to see himself; it was another to kill himself.
But apparently there was no choice. The blonde could but stare, forwards, as the second Malfoy moved back, to the edge of the tower, arms by his sides. Tense; hands clenched into fists.
He still did not want to die; and yet that was a blessing. That instinctive resistance meant that he did not choose this death: given the chance, he'd avoid it. So this wasn't suicide, not quite: and the ownership of the Elder Wand would be passed on correctly.
Draco Malfoy could but stare. And then: "Avada Kedavra."
O
The Doctor's eyes rested on the blonde as he recounted the story; the Horcrux-venom afflicted hand occasionally spasmed. As Malfoy's speech drew to a close, the Doctor bowed his head.
"I'm sorry," the Time Lord whispered, genuinely regretful. "I'm so sorry."
Draco rolled his eyes; shook his head. "Don't be. What's the point? You're meant to clever Doctor, what's the point in being sorry? It's already happened."
The Doctor's face fell. Silent.
And outside, the Dalek turned away from now-lifeless Death Eaters to fire once more at the shielded Hogwarts.