Disclaimer: The same. Sorry about the delay.
The ratty house elf of the Black family popped into existence as a flurry of wands rose and pointed straight at him. He lowered himself to the floor, groveling.
"Great Master, Kreacher has brought the locket."
"Show me," said the Dark Lord, as his Death Eaters watched in fascination, wondering what would be so important that their Lord would even deign to speak to a house elf.
Kreacher unclenched one hand and within lay a smooth, silver locket with an insignia of seven intertwined snakes spiralling out from the center. Voldemort stretched out his left hand and the locket flew into his grasp. He held it up to the light, examining it.
"It is real," he declared. He turned to his followers. "Perhaps a bit of explanation is in order, my dear friends."
He drew himself up as Nagini began to move up his body and coil around his torso.
"A thousand years ago, four of the greatest witches and wizards ever to grace these hallowed lands -" he looked down disdainfully at the cold concrete street upon which he stood "- met. Theirs was a dying kind, a noble race succumbing to engaging in the perils of the flesh with their filthy, subservient, counterparts. That same ungrateful lot saw the rich harvests which us, magicians, produced, saw the cleanliness in which we lived - much differing from the squalor those pigs chose to live within -, and saw the awesome power our ancestors wielded. They sought to destroy us, my friends."
Kreacher continued to tremble as he lay prostrate upon the ground.
"They sought to educate a new generation, to mold leaders as great as they. These wizards four - Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and my mighty ancestor, Salazar Slytherin.
"Helga was peaceful, Gryffindor bold, Rowena intelligent, and Salazar cunning. Ambitious. Strong. All four recognized the base evil of the Muggles. Each saw their spread as dangerous. Even Gryffindor himself -contrary to what the old fool would have you believe - detested those vile pests. Men of a nonmagical breed, doomed from birth to hunt us down and exterminate us, even as we provided for their miserable existences! Ungrateful beasts!"
"But Gryffindor would let in Muggleborns. He would let in the spies of the enemy, welcome those who look him in the eye even as their friends stab him in the back. How different we would be if only he was brave enough to recognize the truth!
"But hate him not, my friends, for he was simply misguided. But our great old fool of a Headmaster was not. He knows the danger of the Muggles, yet he continues to suffer their existence. Why, my friends, why? It is simple. He believes they are just as honorable as us - they, thieving, dishonest scum.
"But I, and Salazar before me, recognize the threat. Gryffindor did not, alas. The very symbols of our tainted race he would open the floodgates to, and let into our sacred school! This must end, and it begins today. Even as our army of undead and indomitable creatures marches towards the north, even as the Muggles now know unequivocally that their worst nightmares always existed, always lurking, waiting in the shadows for the moment to strike, waiting among our great wizarding society for the day when we no longer could tolerate the encroachment of the Muggles. It is inevitable, you see. The Muggles have nearly reached the point where they will detect our existence. We must halt them before they unleash genocide upon us all. They sneer and scorn those among them who kill each other en masse, but have no compunctions and no qualms about murdering our children.
"See the poor wizarding child from Bristol whose Muggle mother strangled him when she learned he had powers of the occult! His father, the wizard, killed her, and learned from his utter mistake. Indeed, Dolohov, you have been a faithful servant.
"Today Antonin here -" the man bowed low "- delivered our first ultimatum to the Muggles. They will not interfere, they will not think of touching us, and they will keep their great crowds who seek to lynch us at bay. For if they do not, we shall turn their advanced weapons -" Voldemort snorted, shaking his head "- against them, and they shall die the deaths they deserve. But if they do not, then we shall secure the Wizarding World from the likes of Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter, and then we shall deal with the great Muggle threat.
"This locket is more than a mere artifact of my ancestor's days upon this earth, upon our earth. It represents my will, the will of the noble Slytherin line throughout the ages and now these seven snakes shall be a symbol. A symbol of our dominion over the world, over seven continents and seven seas. And above it all, we shall raise Atlantis once more, create a paradise on earth. All this will happen when our opposition has been eliminated.
"For I - I am immortal. I am invincible. I am unstoppable. Never matter the obstacles, the prophesied children the fool Dumbledore throws at me and at our cause. They can never win, for I can never die. Harry Potter, who as we speak languishes within the building there, will fall! Dumbledore will die a quick death without his child soldiers to fight behind! And the symbol of my ancient ancestor will be emblazoned upon our robes, upon the robes of every witch and wizard of the new generation! And the Muggles, those filthy beasts, shall be marked with this sign and forced to work as our slaves in recompense for the terrible crimes they have committed against us. Then we will stop them from breeding any more, and the blight that is the nonmagical race, that ridiculous accident, shall be no more.
"And now," he said, turning towards the space where he knew Twelve Grimmauld Place was, "we shall wipe out the first opposition to our plan. On my mark!"
The Death Eaters rose their wands in unison, pointing them at the building. "Fiendfyre!"
Several arcs of roaring flame leapt towards the meager protections, which would, along with the Fidelius, soon fall. It would be just as he had calculated.
The flames rose higher and higher, and Voldemort grinned in satisfaction. "See! See the power of wizardkind! Destroy all who oppose our lead!"
Everyone inside the house, in the meantime, were hurriedly gathering brooms that they could ride out.
"We need to go before he finishes that monologue!" urged Harry. "He'll take quite some time, but when he's done, he'll focus his full efforts on us."
Harry, Sirius, and Kingsley each took their own brooms - Harry his Firebolt. Lupin and Tonks shared a broom, as did Moody and Daphne ("You'd better not try any funny business, missy.").
Apparently Moody had a soft spot for the defenseless. And indeed, Daphne was only a little better than mediocre when it came to Defense Against the Dark Arts and the like. She was more of a political entity like her father.
Speaking of whom, Harry'd need to have a long talk with Lord Greengrass, a conversation which preferably ended with only one person leaving the room. And it would not be a leader of the BMA.
They mounted their brooms in the top room of Grimmauld Place just as it seemed that Voldemort was marshaling his troops to attack. As flames began to assault the building and rise higher, Moody, Shacklebolt, Sirius, and Harry blew off the roof in a concerted effort.
They then shot off into the sky.
Voldemort perceived small figures on brooms rapidly leaving the roof of the building, which was now partially visible. The Fidelius was failing, but that was no longer important.
"My Inner Circle, to your brooms! The rest -" he gestured to them vaguely "- stay here, provide ground support, and follow any commands."
He turned and was about to rise up in flight, when he felt, rather than saw, a malicious presence surging up towards him.
As he turned, he witnessed several violent spells impact the small form of the Black family house elf, but it continued in its trajectory straight towards him.
In its other hand, the one which did not hold the locket, it was clutching a glass vial.
"Master Regulus!" it screeched, and Kreacher impacted the body of Lord Voldemort as the man swiped his wand, disconnecting the house elf's torso from its lower body.
Voldemort smiled; another foolish traitor had died.
But in the elf's dying moments, it had thrust down the vial against Voldemorts hands, and the delicate solution of basilisk venom and unstable solvents shattered against the locket, then exploded in acidic fury.
The acid melted the locket, which emitted a piercing screech, and splattered upon Nagini - still attached to Voldemort's chest -, who let out a drawn-out sibilant hiss.
The venom began to sizzle into the Dark Lord before he banished it without a thought.
"Potter!" He let out a raging yell and shot into the air, the bloody remains of a house elf left unnoticed and uncared for on the cold, concrete street.
Harry turned his head and saw the black-cloaked figures rising behind him and urged his broom to go faster - even though he was the leading one in the pack.
Then, suddenly, his scar burned bright and his broom slowed nearly to a standstill. "Ah!" The burn continued for a couple of seconds, then softened in its intensity. He could feel the Dark Lord's anger - more than double it was when he found out the locket was missing, but Harry held on to his sanity, this time prepared for the mental onslaught of Voldemort's fury. Then he accelerated again.
Unfortunately, his delay had cost him much. The others were in front of him now, and the Death Eaters were nearly on him, already casting spells and flashing lights through the air around him. He pivoted and dodged and rolled, attempting to throw them off.
But then a burning presence approached. Voldemort.
The enraged Dark Lord yelled and cast and pursued Harry in a frenzied burst of passion. Harry could barely keep ahead, dodging the vivid, deathly green as it literally flowed around him.
They were near the edge of the apparition barrier now, and Lupin, Tonks, and Shacklebolt ahead of him Apparated away with their brooms and all. Sirius was waiting at the edge for him - they'd do a side-along. And Moody and Daphne were farther behind, the slowest of all of them. Harry and Voldemort had passed them in their deathly dance.
"Come on, Harry!" called Sirius.
"Extend the barrier," shouted Voldemort, evidently speaking to his men on the ground.
Harry reached Sirius before the barrier could extend, and he could feel the incipient stages of apparition kick in. But before it could complete, he and Sirius separated with a bang and Sirius vanished, leaving strange masses of flesh behind - mostly skin.
Sirius would not be able to return.
Then Voldemort began to exult, so much it flared up in Harry's scar. The barrier was extended; Harry was doomed. Now nobody, not even the reinforcements that Tonks and Lupin had undoubtedly called, could reach them.
Harry made a wide turn to avoid another fusillade of green curses.
Then, suddenly, Voldemort turned his head towards Harry and smiled - a terrible, maniacal smile.
"I see now why Greengrass shirked away until late from committing to the pureblood cause. But there shall no longer be even a sliver of doubt in his mind as to the correct course of action."
The Dark Lord gestured his wand and the broom holding Moody and Daphne split into two. Mad-Eye fell straight to the ground, landing in a bloody mess - he was dead.
But Daphne was on the back of the broom, and though broken, it still held them up. She began to slowly spiral down.
Voldemort began laughing in his characteristic cold, high voice, and raised his wand lazily at the slowly falling girl.
But Harry was already at the trough of his dive, and caught her as she fell. She settled on to the front of his broom as green streaks flashed by.
By now the main body of the Death Eater force was circling above and below them, practically surrounding them.
Voldemort floated towards them, almost languidly.
"Your time is over, Harry Potter. Your life is finished, your pitiful rebellion against the untouchable power of Lord Voldemort vanquished."