Disclaimer: Nothing related to Harry Potter belongs to me. It belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Victory

Growling low in his throat, Harry gently handed Severus over to Remus and went to retrieve the letter. The potion had begun to wear off by now and Severus was quickly sobering, looking around the room for his mate. When he saw Harry reaching for the letter tied to the owl's leg, he lurched forward, crying out, "Harry! No!" But he was too late. As soon as Harry touched the parchment, he felt a familiar tug behind his navel.

Dammit! You'd think he'd have learned after the Triwizard Tournament and Cedric. But no, he just had to rush headlong into these things. Cursing at himself and his stupid Gryffindor bravery, he braced himself for a rough landing.

Once he was sure he had stopped moving, he opened his eyes and glared at the snake-man in front of him, his lips curling up into a silent snarl. "What do you want, Tom?" he asked, gaining a sense of grim satisfaction when Voldemort flinched upon hearing the name before glaring right back at him, maliciousness hatred radiating from crimson eyes.

"I would learn to respect your superiors, boy. After all, we're playing on my field now. Not only are we in my territory, but you're surrounded by Death Eaters outside this wall, there's no way for Dumbledore and your bonded to locate you, and you're bonded to me. You're breaking the Talisman Mark was rather impressive, but even you weren't able to sever the bond completely. It still remains as physical evidence that you were mine, even if only for a short time. I owned you, and now I will kill you."

Harry had used the time granted him by the Dark Lord's love for long-winded monologues, all of which had yet to strike fear into him, to expand his senses. He smiled to himself; Voldemort had been lying. There were indeed Death Eaters outside the room, but it was only the members of his Inner Circle. Perhaps he was afraid of losing again and being seen as weak by the common Death Munchers.

Harry snorted lightly at this thought, but it was enough to gain Voldemort's attention. The crimson-eyed menace ceased his glory-speech and glared at Harry in unbridled hatred. Snarling, he didn't even bother to begin a proper duel as he had done in the graveyard after the Triwizard Tournament. Swinging his wand up, he pointed it at Harry and cried, "Crucio!"

The pain hit Harry and he gasped, shifting automatically. He was beginning to form a plan and needed to buy some more time. At first, Voldemort hesitated, unsure of what was happening. When Amarth made no move to attack him, realization dawned and he laughed cruelly. "What's wrong, Potter? Or is it Morkeleb in that form? Find yourself fighting an unbreakable bond? That's just too bad, isn't it?" his voice oozed menace, but Harry ignored him.

This infuriated Voldemort and he started throwing curses and hexes at Harry, each one intended to be more painful than the last. Harry recognized some of them, which he absorbed, dodging the spells he didn't recognize. After all, as helpful as Voldemort's mindless rage was, he didn't want to be hit with something that would cost him his life. Even with his ability to absorb magic, the bond between them was likely to cause unexpected reactions, and he really didn't want to risk his life on those spells not being able to hurt him.

Finally, Amarth felt that he had enough of Voldemort's power, and he opened the mind-link with his bonded. He felt relief and concern, tinged with mild anger, coming through the bond. He didn't bother explaining what was going on, but let them see through his eyes for a few short moments. Voldemort had apparently not only realized that the curses weren't even slowing Amarth down, but had also remembered that he could take those spells and pain and convert them into raw energy, which he could then use in a burst of power.

As Voldemort debated his next move, Amarth watched the cold calculation in his eyes and knew that he didn't have much time. Surely the Dark Lord had read something that would defeat a Jachyra. Heck, even Draco had been able to freeze him where he stood, so he had no illusions concerning Voldemort.

Quickly, he shut the other two out, protecting them, and opened the mind-link with Severus to its full capacity. Immediately, he felt Severus' calm and power pouring into him, and he knew that the creature standing in front of him didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of winning. Grinning now, Amarth shifted until he was Harry again and started gathering power. This spell would take most of his strength, but now, with not only Severus' power, but the Dark Lord's as well, he should be able to do what he had to and escape without too much difficulty.

Voldemort, deciding that Harry was far more vulnerable in human form than as a Jachyra, threw the Killing Curse at him, but Harry dodged. He wasn't sure he was immune from the curse coming from this man. After all, the prophecy had said that only Voldemort could kill him, and vice versa. Harry decided not to try his luck any more than necessary.

Still dodging, throwing curses and hexes back at his opponent whenever he got a chance, Harry continued gathering power, concentrating on the spell he was about to perform.

Harry had decided a long time ago that he didn't want to become a murderer if he could at all avoid it, and he certainly didn't want to destroy anyone's soul, not even Voldemort's. Although, it was actually more selfish than that. Harry did not want to stain his hands with the blood of his enemy. Killing those Death Eaters had been more than enough, as far as he was concerned.

So he had followed Hermione's example and gone straight to the library, researching ways to destroy Voldemort without killing him. It had taken him several long weeks, but he had done it, and now he had enough power to accomplish it without losing his own life in the process.

Growling, he froze, allowing Voldemort to hit him with the next Cruciatus curse. Gritting his teeth and locking his knees in an effort to not crumple to the ground screaming, Harry stared directly at Voldemort as he uttered his spell.

"Abcido venificus animus!"

A brilliant light tore from Harry's body, forcing a scream out of him as he collapsed to the ground, weak from the amount of power that the spell had demanded from him. Fighting to regain his strength and drawing on the bond with his mate, Harry kept his eyes opened as the light barreled into Voldemort, knocking him back a couple of feet.

When it stopped, Voldemort stood there, unsure of what had just happened. Harry licked his lips nervously. If that hadn't worked, then he was dead. He had enough power for one last strong spell, but no more. And he still had to get out of here alive and in one piece.

Voldemort, once he had determined that nothing appeared to be wrong, laughed mockingly at Harry. "Oh, poor little Potter. Did the spell go wrong? Perhaps you forgot to stress one of the syllables, and weakened yourself instead of me. It serves you right, you little pest," he hissed menacingly, anger contorting his face for a brief moment before he regained control and smoothed his expression into one of mild satisfaction. "And now, you die, Potter. I do hope you got a chance to say your farewells."

Raising his wand, Voldemort cried out, "Avada Kedavra." Harry braced himself, waiting for the green sheet of light to come at him and rip his soul apart. When nothing happened, he slowly opened his eyes, staring at the Dark Lord, who was in turn staring at his wand, a puzzled frown upon his face. Turning back to Harry, Voldemort aimed and hissed, "Crucio!" Again, nothing happened.

By this time, Harry was grinning. He had won, he knew it. He had drained away all of Voldemort's power, thus destroying Voldemort and leaving Tom Riddle, a muggle, in his place. Chuckling, Harry rose slowly to his feet and faced the weak man. "You spoke too soon, Tom. Now you're nothing but a muggle."

Voldemort looked at him, wide-eyed. He wasn't afraid yet, but Harry just figured that his predicament hadn't kicked in quite yet, so Harry figured he'd explain a bit better. "You're a half-blood, Riddle. Your father was a muggle and your mother a witch. As such, I was able to delete one half of your bloodlines. Now you have only your father's blood running through your veins. You're nothing more than one of the weak muggles you despise so much," Harry expounded.

Grinning madly now, Harry gestured with his hand and quickly stunned Voldemort. Walking over to him, Harry bound him up and threw him over his shoulder. Opening the link with Draco, Harry quickly found the link that connected him to his father and tugged on it, pulling Lucius Malfoy towards him.

When the elder Malfoy walked into the room, Harry was quick to stupefy him and shut the door, locking it with several complex charms. Moving over to the unconscious man, Harry set Voldemort down none too gently before enervating Lucius. When the blond aristocrat opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the Boy Who Lived staring down at him.

Scrambling to his feet, Lucius reached for his wand, only to find that it had been either dropped or taken. Looking at Potter's mock- innocent expression, he assumed that it was the latter. The Golden Boy just gestured to his right, where Lucius saw his Lord laying unconscious and bound.

His attention snapped quickly back to Potter as the boy started talking. "It's over, Mr. Malfoy. Voldemort has been defeated and Tom is no more than a mere muggle now. He will be taken to a muggle prison and possibly put on death row. I'm giving you a choice now. I can either do the same thing with you, drain away your magical power, or I can erase the Dark Mark from your arm and you can learn to be civil and get off your high horse, helping us to rebuild what this creep destroyed. It's your choice. Think carefully."

Harry was lying, but he hoped that Lucius didn't know that. The elder Malfoy was a pureblood, so draining out his magical bloodlines wouldn't work. He just hoped that Lucius didn't know this, and was betting that he didn't. After all, the spell and its limitations were very rarely known and only contained within two copies of the same book, one of which was at Hogwarts.

Lucius didn't even have to think. The Dark Lord had been defeated by this man-child. It was obvious now that the Light side was stronger at the moment. Besides, even though Lucius didn't show it, he cared for his son. If Draco was bonded to Harry, then Lucius was going to be with him, to make sure he came to no harm.

Silently, Lucius held out his left arm, offering the Dark Mark face up to Harry. Grinning, Harry shifted into Amarth and locked his jaws around the blond Slytherin. The man stiffened, but did not try to pull away. Gathering his remaining power, Harry thrust it like a sword through Lucius' arm, erasing the Dark Mark once and for all.

When he was done, he shifted back into human form and threw Riddle back over his shoulder. Walking towards the exit, he quickly paused, remembering something. Sending his thoughts questing, Harry used Severus' knowledge of Legilimency to sift through Tom's memories, quickly finding what he was looking for. He knew how to bring Sirius back now.

Satisfied, Harry walked out the door with Lucius in tow. They had some business to take care of.