Chapter 21 – Rez this!!
Sipping his fifth butterbeer of the night, Harry was leaning heavily on the mantle, next to Uncle Archie's portrait. Both were watching Ron chatting up Hermione, and Luna, in the form of a bear, dancing on her hind legs.
"What is the matter, nephew?" Archie asked quietly so the guests wouldn't' hear. "Why so glum looking?"
Harry shrugged noncommittally. "I like them, Uncle. All of them. And they like me."
"So what is the problem?" His 'Uncle' gave him a warm look of encouragement.
"Why can't my friends back home be like this?" Harry sighed. "My life would have been so different – even without my folks – if I had friends like this in Hogwarts."
Archie looked at the crowd and crinkled his laughing eyes. "You have them now – enjoy them for this season. But don't get caught up in this world – it is strange in my opinion."
The young man gave an angry snort. "Ya – folks liking Harry Potter is a bit 'round the bend I'd say."
His Uncle gave him a pitying look. "That is not what I meant, nephew. You have made many friends on your travels, and from what you have said there are some loyal companions back in your land. But look at these folks," he gestured dramatically at the crowd. Dennis was perched on Collin's shoulders, both drinking heavily and flirting with Ginny, who was looking at them with lustful amusement. Harry blinked a few times – ok – Ginny the Shadow was a bit of a loose cannon in this universe.
"Where are their families, Harry?" Archie continued gently. "I have not heard the sound of children, yet this is a school? Where are the grandparents, the homes, the reality here?"
Harry was thunderstruck. Uncle Archie was right – it was only a computer game. And in computer games most folks don't want to deal with spouses, children, extended families, bathrooms, taxes, and the list went on. This was not reality. Not as Harry knew it, at least. He turned away from the crowd and gave the portrait a grateful look. "You are right, uncle," he whispered. "They have each other, but nothing else. Nothing. What are they fighting for?"
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
He had considered attempting to teach his magic to the guild. But after a couple of tries with Ron, Hermione, and his twin, they came to the conclusion it was futile. The restrictions in this cosmos were too rigid – the 'players' could not break the bonds of their class limitations.
So Harry took a crash course in Warlock abilities. They were not kept secret – there were no hidden spells or branches of magic Voldemort could tap into. All he had was intellect and power – his range of 'weapons' was cast in stone and unchangeable.
The Guild, The Order of The Phoenix, stood on a windy hill opposite the depressing castle of Lordaeron as Harrypotter downed the bond terminator at Harry's prompting. The sky was gray, the grass was gray, and the undead warriors that listed and shuffled around the grounds were gray. Neville stepped boldly toward the gates and the zombies cleared a path – obviously holy warriors and undead do not mix.
"We are here to challenge Lord Voldemort!" the dwarf Neville's voice rang out. Mocking laughter echoed from the battlements, but after a long wait, one of the huge oaken doors to the keep swung open, and out strode the leader of the Horde.
Surrounded by sucking up underlings, Voldemort looked like Tom Riddle. Missing was the reptilian skin and red eyes from his rebirth in Harry's universe. Young, strong, handsome and charismatic, the warlock stopped in front of Neville with scorn and arrogance shining in his perfect features. "Are you going to challenge me this time, paladin? Where is Harrypotter?"
Harry, with a ceremonial flag of dueling stepped forward. "I challenge you, Voldemort," he called. Funny – in this world Harry didn't feel even apprehensive. He was concerned – a fighter that is too relaxed is bound to fail. But this world was almost a joke at this point. With a thrust he drove the flag into the ground and stood expectantly.
"And who might you be?" Voldemort sneered at the Boy-Who-Lived. "You are dressed like a mage, but I see no weapons, other than a wand. A level one wand at that! You are wasting my time – just run ahead to the graveyard – that is where you will end up."
"Are you afraid, Tom?" Harry mocked in a quiet, calm voice.
Voldemort's head snapped up in anger, eyes blazing with fury. "What did you call me?" he hissed dangerously. "Nobody calls me by that name! I paid large amounts of gold to change it – that name is dead!"
Harry snorted. With a shrug he got into dueling position. "So will its owner be, in just a few, Tommy."
The duel was fast and over with in record time. Voldemort was expecting just another mage – a mage with poor gear at that. He was not expecting a seasoned fighter with no restrictions of class, race, or universe. Harry threw up several powerful shields, hit him with a few reductos, cutting hexes, blasting hexes, and squished the warlock's creepy minion with a casually conjured anvil. Harry loved that trick.
Voldemort was sweating. He kept trying to send shadow curses at him. He tried to cast fear on him, weakness, corruption, and agony. He tried to drain his life and his soul. But every spell he sent was stopped by an invisible wall or barrier. The leader of the Horde was weakening – his energy getting dangerously low to where he would be unable to cast another spell without resting or drinking a potion, but this mage wasn't even breathing heavily.
The Order was stunned. Some of the members knew that Harry didn't have class restrictions, but most just thought he was a good and true friend with no special abilities. To see one individual heal, blast, summon, conjure, and even fist fight was something new, extraordinary and unheard of.
The Horde surrounding Voldemort were beginning to panic and run away. Out of the corners of his eyes Harry could see the guild step in and start to decimate their ranks. Harry wasn't sure why they bothered – they would be back in an hour, but that was plenty of time for him to finish this job.
Riddle was standing, leaning on his staff and panting with exhaustion, glaring with hatred at Harry. "Who are you, boy?" he snarled.
Slowly, deliberately, Harry lifted his bangs off his forehead to show his scar. "I'm Harry Potter, Tom. Just not the one you usually play with," he grinned. Riddle's eye widened in fear and recognition – evidently there was some sort of prophecy here too. As Voldemort tried to grab a potion, Harry swiftly cast a petrificus totalus, and then an incendio, pouring all his strength into it.
Voldemort screamed in agony – his flesh bubbling and searing and turning to ash as he died. Harry kept his concentration, not letting up on the spell, until the screams were stilled, the warlock was dead, and the body reduced to a pile of ashes. Stunned silence surrounded the lonely hill where the duel had taken place, as the Horde realized their leader was gone, dead beyond resurrection, and the Alliance, stunned with what had just happened, understood they had won.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Back at the Abbey the celebration was going full tilt. Dumbledore and Harrypotter had a long private debrief with Harry before joining the party. They came to the conclusion that the only way to defeat Voldemort was to break all restrictions to get around his high level of strength, and the only one who could do that was someone from another universe.
"What now, Harry?" his twin asked with curiosity. "You could stay here with us – the guild loves you and owes you. It will be interesting to see how the Horde restructures, or if they even can."
The Boy-Who-Lived smiled sincerely but shook his head. "I appreciate it, mate. But its time to move on. I have a job to do." With a firm hand shake to the blue-skinned Harrypotter, he stood and watched the crowd for a bit. Loyal, wise, and nurturing Hermione. Brave, supportive, bold Ronald the Red. Spacey, funny, other-worldly Luna, now flying around the room as a large raven. The Collin boys, still worshipful and annoying, but also inventive and clever. Neville – strong, confidant, moral. And Dumbledore – all knowing, sharing his knowledge, protective and caring. In many ways this was how back home should have been. But so much was missing here.
With a private smile he slipped from the room to a quiet and empty room. Shrunk trunk in pocket, wand in pocket, bond terminators on a chain around his neck, Hedwig flew through an open window and landed on his shoulder with a happy hoot. It was time to go.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Author Notes: Honestly, I'm not sure if this world 'works' that well. But I wanted Harry to have a break – a world where everything and everyone was on his side. No conflicts, no drama, no angst – a vacation from reality. He hasn't learned anything, improved any skills, but for a short time he was able to enjoy the support and respect of all the people who should have been his loyal friends. I did not develop any of these characters on purpose – I wanted them to seem unreal and shallow, like a computer game. And I wanted Harry to understand that such a perfect place wasn't natural for him – Harry Potter will always live a life with conflict and drama.
I have Harry's next world almost done - it will probably be a couple weeks before the next posting. But the two worlds after that are finished, so there will be a run of fast postings for a while.