Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it and it is likely from Order of the Phoenix by JKR. "Shattered" by Trading Yesterday

I'm Not Your Ghost Anymore

Harry hated Voldemort. Loathed everything about him: his height (tall), his weight (skeleton thin), his stupid hooded cloak (black, of course), his snake like face (ugly), and especially those stupid red slit eyes he sported. Abhorrence coursed through Harry at lightening speed. Everything that was wrong in Harry's life was Voldemort's fault. If he just…

What? Loved bunnies?

Who was Harry kidding? Bunnies were terrifying. Voldemort would love bunnies if he knew how much Harry feared them just to spite Harry.

And that was just the thing. Harry knew he ought to fear Voldemort on some level, yet he didn't. He never had. Bunnies terrified him, but not Voldemort. What Harry did feel (besides hate) was pity. Voldemort could have been great, could have been a very productive member of society if he'd made a few different choices along the path of life.

"Why'd you have to be evil?" Harry stupidly asked the most feared and diabolical wizard of the century.

And Harry could make this claim, as he'd been told stories about the other Dark Lord…Grindiewall or something weird like that. He was power hungry, mean, and kind of like Hitler, but he wasn't tearing his soul apart in order to not die. It was just…stupid. Okay, so maybe he wasn't the most diabolical wizard. Selfish. Stupid. Power hungry. Stuff like that.

"I am not evil, Harry Potter," Voldemort said placidly as if they were simply having tea instead of Harry sitting dumbly at the end of Voldemort's wand yet again.

Harry knew he ought to be scared to death, but this was the third time (or maybe four) he'd been here and he was still not dead. A little worse for wear, but defiantly not dead.

"Sure. I bet Ghandi tore his soul apart too for kicks," Harry snorted.

Voldemort's head tilted to the side. If he could, Harry knew the guy would be looking confused. Snakes, though, were not known for their facial expressions.

"He died," Voldemort stated.

"Yes."

"He was a Muggle."

"So? You saying Muggles can't tear their souls apart? I'm sure they do all the time," Harry assured Voldemort. "There are theses things known as serial killers."

"Silence!" Voldemort hissed, pressing the tip of his wand into Harry's chest. Harry felt the spell descend upon him instantly and made a face to show his displeasure. "I can see in your worthless mind what you told Bella was true. The prophecy is lost. What of Calliope?"

Harry felt a pressure in his mind and threw the image of Bellatrix Black stabbing Atlanta in the side in her haste to withdraw upon Dumbledore's appearance.

That had not had happened. Bellatrix had thrown some sort of curse at Sirius, cackled, Sirius failed to move, and she ran out of the room doing some more of that evil cackling.

But, hey, Harry had to get his jollies somehow.

Voldemort hissed in anger and the pressure of his wand tip vanished from Harry's chest as Bellatrix wailed somewhere behind him. Harry tried to close up his mind against the surge of rage from Voldemort, but failed. Evidently close proximity to Voldemort rendered his shields useless.

Not that they were very good shields as Snape had given up on him when Harry had gotten a little nosey.

Suddenly the pain lessened. Harry cracked his eyes open to find Voldemort standing in front of him, his wand pointed at the ground. As if feeling Harry's stare, Voldemort rolled his neck in a snake like manner and met Harry's gaze. Harry felt a wave of disgust, grief, anxiousness, and odd fondness flood through, making him dizzy.

Voldemort sighed deeply, his wand still pointed at the ground. He looked tired.

"Months of preparations, months of effort, and it is all thwarted by Harry Potter. Again."

"Sorry," Harry apologized.

Voldemort gave him chiding look.

"Okay, you're right. I'm not sorry. Why would I be sorry for stopping your diabolical plans for world domination?"

Voldemort sighed.

This was bizarre on too many levels.

Did Voldemort take a chill pill before leaving tonight?

"Is she really dead?" Voldemort inquired.

Before Harry could answer the lift dinged open on the other side of the room. Voldemort turned around, his robes swishing out around and his wand held out before him. Harry peered around Voldemort to see the lift was empty. Voldemort slowly turned, taking in the entire Atrium.

"Who is here?" he demanded.

"Yesterday I died," came the reply from the lift.

Harry snapped his eyes back in that direction to see a child standing in the center of the lift. A familiar child. She was young, maybe around eleven. She had long, curly, black hair, and was wearing a Hogwarts uniform.

"Tomorrow's bleeding," she went on, then started singing. "Fall into your sunlight. The future's open wide, beyond believing, to know why, hope dies."

Voldemort ceased moving, wand dropping to his side.

"Losing what was found, a world so hallow, suspended in a compromise. The silence of the sound, is soon to follow, somehow, sundown."

"What is this?" Voldemort hissed, sending a jet of red light at the child. Harry scrambled to defend the child, but before the jet of light or Harry could do anything, the child vanished into thin air.

"Calliope, come out!" Voldemort demanded, twirling around, his ruby eyes scanning the whole Atrium.

"And finding answers," said a voice that Harry knew was Atlanta—the Atlanta he'd known since after her run-in with Voldemort. "It's forgetting all the questions we called home. Passing the graves of the unknown."

"CALLIOPE! I WILL FIND YOU!" Voldemort bellowed.

"As reasons clouds my eyes, with splendor fading," said a posh British accent from the left. Harry jerked his head in the direction as Voldemort spun. He gasped at the sight of yet another child, this one vastly different from the first one, and not just because of the old fashion Slytherin uniform she wore. Harry hazarded a guess that this image was Calliope Riddle. She was polished, poised, and everything Atlanta Black had not been. "Illusions of the sunlight and a reflection of a lie will keep me waiting with love gone for so long."

Harry glanced at Voldemort, who appeared to be dumbfounded.

"And this day's ending is the proof of time killing all the faith I had, knowing that faith is all I held."

"Silence," Voldemort ordered, sending another jet of light at the image. Like before, it vanished before the light hit it. "Come out and face me, Calliope!"

"And I've lost who I am and I can't understand why my heart is so broken rejecting you love without love gone wrong, lifeless words carry on," came the voice of Atlanta Lupin as she came into view. She appeared out of the shadows, looking as if she'd fought a war alone. Her hair was in disarray, her coat missing, her shoes missing, and blood dribbled out of a slash on her left side.

As if someone had stabbed her in the stomach. Harry gasped in horror at the very thought, but it surely must have happened as Atlanta had no way of knowing that was the vision Harry had fed Voldemort moments before.

Voldemort stumbled backwards, feeling the force of the magic behind the words Atlanta was singing. (Or the sight of blood pouring out of her did him in, but Harry kind of doubted it.)

"But all I know is that the end's beginning," she spat out, raising her wand. Without speaking a spell, she sent a blue jet of light at Voldemort, who had to react quickly to block it. "Who I am from the start, take me home to my heart, let me go and I will run, I will not be silent."

She sent another jet of light and Voldemort flicked it away easily enough while stumbling backwards. Harry pressed himself into the edge of the fountain. While the anger wasn't meant for him, Harry felt the power of Atlanta's words nonetheless and unlike Voldemort, didn't have the strength to do anything against it.

"All this time spent in vain, wasted years, wasted gain, all is lost, hope remains and this war's not over," Atlanta sung, shooting even more spells at Voldemort. Voldemort blocked the spells, not fighting back. "There's a light, there's the sun, taking all shattered ones, to the place we belong, and HIS LOVE WILL CONQUER ALL!"

That line enraged Voldemort, and he finally shot a jet of red at Atlanta, who twirled out of the way seamlessly. They began to duel in ernest, doing things Harry had never witnessed. Magic was doing things Harry had thought it wasn't able to do right before his very eyes. Harry was so thrown by the show of magic and Atlanta's ability to duel beyond her years, he almost missed when Atlanta ripped Tom out of her arm and threw him off to the side. Tom soared through the air and through a few things before he managed to somehow stop himself. Harry shoved his hand into his pocket and realized suddenly what Atlanta had slipped into his pocket earlier when they had been in the Prophecy Room. He hurled the block towards Tom, who caught it. Meeting his eyes, Harry realized what they had to do.

The song has some sort of power over Voldemort. The tune had distracted him in the Chamber of Secrets second year, it had scared him last summer when it'd sounded when their wands connected, and had caused him to defend and not attack just now.

"And I've lost who I am, and I can't understand, why my heart is so broken rejecting your love," Harry and Tom bellowed out at the same time as loud as they could.

Harry couldn't exactly sing, but Tom could, even while shouting. Tom also had some magical force behind his words, thanks to being made out of Addy Black's magic. While nowhere near as strong as when Atlanta had been shouting the words, they did cause Voldemort to twitch enough for Atlanta to get a hit in. Harry tried to pour some of his hate into the words flowing from his mouth hoping that'd hit Marv.

"Who I am from the start take me home to my heart, let me go, I will run, I will not be silent. All this time spent in vain, wasted years, waisted gain, all is lost hope remains, and this war's not over!"

Having never actually witnessed a proper duel before, Harry was distracted from his lyrical shouting by the show of magic between Atlanta and Voldemort. It was utterly amazing and made him wonder why he'd been teaching the Defense class instead of Atlanta. They were tightly locked in battle, spells flying all over the place. Atlanta showed no strain, no weakness as she battled, even though sometimes Harry swore he saw blood flying out of the wound on her side.

"There's a light, there's the sun, taking all shattered ones, to the place we belong, and his love will conquer all!" Tom shouted-slash-sung, visible magic flying out of his mouth in a shimmering grey color. It hit Voldemort in the head, making him bat it away as if it were a fly. Tom collapsed backwards.

"His. Love. Will. Conquer ALL, T.M.," Atlanta gritted out. "I will never," black jet of light, "never," blocked Voldemort's spell, "never join you. I will die before I do so."

Voldemort bellowed in rage, shooting a spell out that hit Atlanta in the chest, sending her stumbling backwards. Harry scrambled to his feet, but for some unknown reason went flying backwards, up over the ledge of the fountain and into the water. Sputtering he, scrambled to get out only to realize he'd lost his wand in the water. He searched around as Atlanta and Voldemort dueled and Tom shouted Atlanta's song at Voldemort—who didn't seem to notice that a version of himself was shouting at him.

One of Voldemort's spells landed again and Atlanta fell to her knees. Harry slashed through the water furiously trying to find his wand.

"Yesterday I died," Atlanta stated flatly, full on American accent.

"You are not dead."

"But, I'll be shortly. I'll just sit here and bleed out, you don't mind, do ya?"

She looked up at Voldemort and smiled ironically.

"No," Voldemort hissed, clutching his wand tightly. "Your death will be mine."

"Sure. Take it. I just need to borrow a bit of your soul first. You won't miss this bit, I promise."

Tom gasped. "No."

Harry looked up.

Voldemort appeared bemused.

Quickly, Atlanta pointed her wand at Harry and shouted, "AMIAVITDO!"

Tom howled, Voldemort screeched, and Harry screamed as pain shot through his head. It felt like someone was trying to rip his brian out through his scar. He crashed into the water backwards. He flayed around before he managed to roll over to his hands and knees. The pain lessened and Harry got himself up right and out of the water before he fell face first into the fountain and drowned.

When he finally opened his eyes, the scene that greeted him was bad. Atlanta lay still ten feet from Voldemort, who still had his wand outstretched yet was unmoving. He could have been a statue. Tom was flat on his back, which was a little strange because it appeared as if he was solid and actually on his back on the floor and not floating above it as he should have been due to the fact his block was meters away from his limp hand.

"Oh, Tom," a new voiced sighed. "You shouldn't have done that."

Voldemort whirled around, a snarl on his face. "She was useless in this state."

"And what state might that have been? Alive?"

"Dying."

"A mercy killing?" Dumbledore asked, not sounding all that convinced. "You killed your sister. You spent years trying to find her and now that you have, you kill her?"

"She was dying," Voldemort spat. "Weak."

"She was not weak," Dumbledore said. "She dueled you and she might have won while grievously wounded."

"She was weak," Voldemort insisted.

"The Aurors are on their way, Tom."

"Don't call me that!" Voldemort shirked, and a couple of things exploded.

"That is your name," Dumbledore pointed out.

Voldemort let out a bellow of outrage and sent a spell that made everything vibrate. Harry's hair stood on end even though it was sodding wet. Harry scrambled forward, only he failed to get anywhere because one of the statues grabbed him around the middle and hauled him away from the ongoing duel. Harry tried to fight the golden statue off, but failed miserably. He finally gave up and stared at the prone form of Bellatrix.

Unfortunately, she wasn't dead. Her chest moved steadily up and down.

"Harry!"

Harry jerked and looked down to find Tom, very solid and in living color, scrambling over the edge of the fountain where Harry was once more, at least this time he wasn't sitting in the water but rather dangling above it.

"Tom?" Harry asked. "You're solid."

"I noticed," Tom snapped, removing his outer robe and chucking it over his shoulder. "Where is your wand?"

"I dropped it in the fountain when I was flung in the first time," Harry admitted as all the glass in the atrium exploded around them. Tom ducked into the water as glass rained down and plunged downwards as the statue repositioned itself to protect Harry. Harry closed his eyes as he listened to the glass rain down on them.

"You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore? Why not?" Voldemort demanded.

"We both known there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom. I must admit, merely taking your life would not make me happy in the least," Dumbledore admitted. "There are much worst things than death."

"YOU ARE WRONG!" Voldemort shouted. Harry heard his wand violently slash through the air.

Harry felt a surge of emotions through is scar, making him dizzy. Voldemort did nothing in halves, least of all feeling what he did.

Tom picked himself up out of the water, sputtering but triumphantly holding Harry's wand.

"Give it to me!" Harry cried.

Tom gave Harry a look that told Harry he as not getting his wand back any time soon.

"Your failure to realize this is one of your greatest weaknesses," Dumbledore insisted as if he was simply having a mild debate with Voldemort and not dueling the man to the death.

"You are wrong, Albus. It is not my greatest weakness," Voldemort said in a dangerous voice.

Tom faltered, while Harry wondered if he had a build up of ear wax.

"Tom," Harry hissed, trying to extend his hand.

"My greatest weakness is no more," Voldemort said, a dangerous hiss in his voice.

"STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" Dumbledore bellowed, sounding scared. Harry looked at Tom, who froze mid-step. Harry really wished he could see Dumbledore's face at the sight of a wet, teenage Tom Riddle in an ancient Slytherin uniform in the fountain. Tom turned a little to meet Harry's eye and Harry did not like the fear he noted in Tom's eyes. He opened to his mouth to ask what was going on when his scar exploded in pain. His head snapped back, smashing into the golden statue holding him hostage.

He was going to die. It was that simple. Death was on the menu. The pain was too much to take, so if he didn't die, he'd be insane. It kind of sucked, as Tom was now solid, but whatever. He'd rather be dead than in pain.

"Kill me now, Dumbledore," Harry said in a voice that was not his own. Harry knew it had come out of his mouth due to the pain in his jaw. It felt like his jaw was going to sever itself from his skull each time it opened. "If death is nothing, kill the boy."

Harry would have liked Dumbledore to do just that. He knew he wouldn't, so Harry would just go on till the pain shattered his bones and his muscles liquified.

All I know that the end's beginning.

The pain suddenly broke. Harry wasn't sure how, but he heard that line from the song and emotions were suddenly piling through Harry, spiraling all over and making his heart sing.

Who I am from the start take me home to my heart.

Harry could see everyone's faces. Sirius was laughing as Harry introduced him to the wonders of video games. Luna was dancing in circles while singing "Never Smile at a Crocodile" while shooting off hexes during a Defense Club meeting. Photos of Mum and Dad smiling up at him in the photo album Aunt Narcissa handed him with a soft smile on her face.

Let me go and I will run, I will not be silent

Draco looking annoyed, but smiling as he called Harry The-Boy-With-a-Death-Wish, Hermione trying to explain something complicated to him, Neville blowing up cauldrons in his face, Ginny and Atlanta giggling in the corner of the Common Room, and finally Tom's face as he smirked at Harry whilst sitting in the window seat at Park Quad.

Harry felt calm and the pain left as Harry felt his face smack into something that felt firm, yet soft. It was also rather wet and smelled familiar. However, the familiar smell was not one that usually accompanied by so much warmth.

Harry shivered, feeling as if he was filling up with ice. He opened his eyes. He was in Tom's arms, but behind him Voldemort was peering at the pair through slitted red eyes. Feeling bold, Harry met the stare.

"What was that?" Voldemort asked, sounding a bit curious. He cocked his head to the side.

"Love," Harry replied.

"And what are you?" Voldemort asked, eyes focusing on Tom's back. He raised his wand. Tom moved quickly. Still holding onto Harry, Tom whirled around and pointed Harry's wand at Voldemort.

"Your worst nightmare," Tom spat.

Voldemort sneered, but did not continue speaking to either boy due to the fact Cornelius Fudge and a few other high ranking Ministry employees were standing before the fountain, wearing dumbfounded expressions at the sight before them. Voldemort vanished from sight.

"Oh!" Fudge dumbly said.

Tom hauled Harry out of the fountain as more voices sounded all over the Atrium.

"You're solid," Harry dumbly said, patting Tom as they collapsed on the ground next to the fountain.

"Good deduction," Tom snapped. "Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Are you alright?" Dumbledore asked, appearing before them. Harry jerked back.

"Sure," Harry said, craning his neck around Dumbledore to look at the people in the room. The walls lined with fireplaces all had emerald fire bursting from them and more people were pouring into the room. Harry noted Bellatrix was missing. Everyone was muttering, no one's voice rising above anyone else's. They all appeared as if they'd just witnessed murder in the first degree. "Where'd Voldemort go?"

"Back to whatever hole he came from," Tom snapped, then turned the weight of his blue gaze to Dumbledore. "We need to get him out of here."

"Correct. You will explain in my office?" Dumbledore calmly asked Tom.

"Yes," Tom said with a jerk of his head. "After Harry is—"

"I'm fine," Harry insisted. "Nothing happened except pain. I'm totally used to that."

Tom and Dumbledore both frowned.

"H-h-h-h-he was here!"

Fudge jerked in surprise someone had spoken so loudly.

"I saw him, Minister!" another shouted. "It was him!"

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was here! Grabbed that woman and Disapparated!" another shouted, sounding outraged.

"What happened to everyone else?" Harry asked, grabbing the sleeve of Dumbledore's robe.

"Everyone you brought with you has been returned to Hogwarts. Sirius is not dead, but at Hogwarts with them. I'm sure you'll get the details from your friends later. I need to sort things out here," Dumbledore said as Fudge came into his sense.

"DUMBLEDORE! You're….here!" Fudge shouted, sounding amazed. How he'd missed the six foot tall wizard in magenta robes was beyond Harry's grasp at the moment.

"If you proceed downstairs you'll find an interesting group of people in the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries," Dumbledore said, tugging his robes out of Harry's grasp and walking forward to meet Fudge. "I've set up an Anti-Disapparation Jinx so they won't escape. There are Death Eaters in the Death Chamber."

Tom helped Harry to his feet as Dumbledore chuckled at the last statement he'd made. Tom muttered under his breath. Harry gazed around at the other wizards who were all doing impersonations of fish. Fudge flapped his arms around.

"Seize him!" he blustered.

The fish stared at the bird and did nothing. Dumbledore became furious.

"Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men and I'll win again!" he thundered, his voice filling the huge room.

Harry shirked back a bit, even though Dumbledore's rage was not directed at him. He radiated with power and anger.

No wonder Voldemort feared Dumbledore.

"You've seen Lord Voldemort with your own eyes, Cornelius. He has returned and you have been chasing the wrong men for twelve months while Lord Voldemort operated in secret! It is time you listened to sense."

The group stepped away from Fudge. Fudge stuttered random words for a moment till he seemed to break down.

"Very well. Dawlish, Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see what is there. Dumbledore you will need to tell me exactly what occurred here tonight," he ordered, a weak tremor in his voice. The two people he told to go downstairs, hurried off, eyeing Harry and the remains of the statues. At some point the statues all seemed to have exploded. "What happened to the Fountain of Magical Brethren?"

"Boom," Harry said blankly and Fudge jumped.

"Harry? Harry Potter?"

"I will discuss that with you after I send Harry and Tom back to Hogwarts."

Dumbledore glanced at Tom, who didn't react to him using his name at all. This seemed to please Dumbledore greatly.

"What are they doing here? Who is that boy?" Fudge demanded. "What is he wearing?"

"I shall explain in time," Dumbledore said as if he was speaking to a three-year-old.

Dumbledore reached out and grabbed a hunk of golden statue and muttered a spell Harry didn't catch. The head glowed blue and trembled a bit before becoming still.

"Now see here, you just made an illegal Portkey!" Fudge shouted. "I'm the Minister of Magic and you do not have the authro—"

Fudge's voice failed when he noticed the look Dumbledore was giving him.

Dumbledore turned back to Harry. "I'm going to send you to my office. I will meet you there to speak further in a half hour. Break whatever you'd like."

Harry thought this was a bit of odd advice, since he felt like collapsing in a heap and sleeping for a million years.

"Hold on here," Dumbledore said. Harry still didn't move. He blinked a few times. Dumbledore regarded him for a moment over the half moon spectacles.

"Take the Portkey, Harry," Tom ordered.

Harry sat down on the ground near the head and stuck his hand on it. Tom followed suit.

"One, two, three," Dumbledore counted and the familiar sensation of a hook being jerked behind his navel happened. Harry was pulled forward into a whirl of colors and sounds, landing with a hard thud in Dumbledore's office. He remained on the floor, staring blankly into the cold fireplace before him.

"Atlanta's dead," he said to Tom.

"Yes," Tom agreed.

"You're solid."

"Yes."

"I'm glad you're solid."

Tom gazed at Harry. Harry felt himself color and looked away.

"Want to break things?" Tom casually asked, flicking Harry's wand at himself. Steam issued from his clothes. Tom did the same to Harry, who suddenly felt wonderfully warm and dry.

"What?"

"He said we could. How often does the headmaster say you're allowed to break his stuff?"

"That seems rather unnecessary," Harry said.

Tom snorted. "You're no fun. I feel like breaking objects."

Harry dumbly watched Tom demolish the objects at random while the paintings all shouted at him to stop and control himself.