CHAPTER 15:

LUNA'S TRAP

Luna had decided to climb onto the roof of the house that night. It was a nice night out, after all, and the Moon was hanging in the sky in a lovely way. And while it was dangerous, Luna had an instinct for what was dangerous and what wasn't, and while that did make her seem rather blithe and blind to danger, in truth, she had more sense of danger than, say, Hagrid, though he admittedly set the bar pretty low. And given that she was a veteran of battle against Death Eaters, she could defend herself.

Luna looked up at the Moon. So strange that it seemed the same to their own world, despite it being, well, a parallel world. And apparently that nice old vampire Zelretch had fought the very first vampire who came from the Moon. You'd think it'd look different. Maybe a couple of craters were different, but it looked largely the same.

Luna sighed to herself. Harry had gone through hell in the year or so since he fell through the Veil. Tortured, experimented upon, and now, he was holding the leash of an alien superweapon that was actually Attila the Hun. Not that what they went through was any picnic. It took Harry's apparent demise for Dumbledore to get off his arse and actually be more effective. The end result was that Voldemort was gone, not for good until Dumbledore dealt with whatever was keeping the Dark Lord alive, but…well, hopefully, this time, it would be for good.

Luna, however, was feeling lonely. True, she had friends. But she wanted someone who was like her. Unafraid to go beyond the bounds of reason or sense, and enjoy one's self in the process. It wasn't like guys or girls like that just dropped out of the sky, though.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she suddenly heard a scream of pain above. She looked up to see a rather pretty pink-haired girl dressed in a black, short-skirted dress and a white cape plummeting through the air towards her. Thinking quickly, she cast a Levitation Charm…which only slowed her descent, not stopping it.

Thankfully, the slowed descent meant that Luna could all but catch the girl when she landed. Oh, wait, her Luna senses were tingling. This was not a girl, but a rather fetching young man dressed like a girl. A crossdresser, a trap, and a rather scrumptious-looking one too. She resisted the urge to squeeze that scrumptious rear with an effort.

The newcomer stirred, his eyes opening. "Oh, hey," he said. "Sorry about dropping in on you like this, but I just got this huge surge of pain up my link from my Master, and, well, it caused me to dismiss my mount inadvertently. I'm Rider of Black. Now, I know I was above the right house when it happened, so, I'm guessing you're with the Masters of Rider and Saber of Red, and Assassin of Black?"

"Yes," Luna said. "So, why are you here?"

Rider opened his mouth, only for his eyes to suddenly widen with horror. "Oh crap," he groaned. "My link with my Master's just been severed. Look, I come in peace, okay, but I'm gonna need a new Master if I want to avoid fading away."

Luna looked into his eyes, and smiled. She sensed a kindred spirit, with a theoretically unerring instinct, in Rider. "…Would you object to having me as your Master?"

Rider blinked. "What, just like that?"

"Well…do you want to go back to Yggdmillennia?"

"…To be frank, not particularly," Rider confessed. "My Master was all kinds of nope, strapping me to a rack and…licking me." He shuddered. "I'm not an ice cream, dammit! She had this weird S&M kink going on, and while I'm okay with it as long as it's sane, safe and consensual…yeah, I reckon she would have used a Command Seal to rape me, and I am NOT okay with that! Plus, the only guys I liked there, besides Saber and Archer, were the Forvedges. Berserker didn't like me, Lancer is scary, and Caster was creepy. Besides…it's not like I was chosen as a Servant because I'm strong. I reckon my Master wanted a sex doll or something."

Luna peered at him, before nodding. "Then I'll be your Master. Welcome to the team, Rider…"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose as Luna showed off her latest acquisition. He didn't like being woken up so early at the best of times. He didn't even know who Astolfo was until Luna explained.

However, what Astolfo told them had them staring at the crossdressing Rider in shock. "Lancer of Red attacked Ruler?" Tonks asked.

"Well, yeah. True, I only heard it from Saber and that tubby Master of his," Astolfo said. "But apparently, Lancer was attacking Ruler, who was…Jeanne d'Arc, I think?"

Altera frowned in thought. "Shirou claimed that Lancer's Master, Feend vor Sembren, didn't like the idea of Ruler looking over his shoulder. But that does sound rather convenient, especially as we haven't seen any of the other Masters of the Red Faction."

"But if the priest is faking it, why did he allow Harry to go with my Master?" Mordred asked.

"A double bluff. Shirou probably holds some good will towards Harry, but if he is actually playing us, he probably sent Harry with us to allow him to work his little scam in peace," Kairi said.

"That makes sense," Remus said. "But it could also be that he is not our enemy, and that the silence of the other Magi is due to them working in isolation. We just don't know, and going up to Shirou and demanding the answers won't work."

"Heyyy…you look kinda familiar, Rider of Red…" Astolfo said, peering at Altera. "I mean, Saber of Black said you were Attila the Hun, but…" Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "That's right. I saw a mural that looked a lot like you in some big cave in the Alps! I was on an expedition with Charlie! Same weird patterns on your skin!"

"Charlie?" Mordred asked.

"I think he means Charlemagne," Hermione said. "Astolfo was one of the 12 Paladins of Charlemagne, remember?"

"It's a long story," Altera declared, looking at Astolfo. "However, there is something concerning about the story he just told us. Namely, that Harry's body had disappeared from the tank it was in, and that this was surprising to Yggdmillennia. In addition, Astolfo's Master was killed soon afterwards. I do not believe this to be coincidence."

Sirius nodded. "You've got that right. You said that this Justeaze woman, the one inside the Grail, transferred Harry's soul into that Homunculus body, right? And Fawkes recognised his magic, even while keeping out of sight of you guys, and Phoenixes can't be fooled like that. But…a thought just occurred to me. I've been going over what Dumbledore thinks kept Voldemort alive, what little he divulged, and I did a lot of study in the Black family library. Out of everything that could have kept him alive…we think it might have been a Horcrux. Well, lots of them."

"A what?" Harry asked.

"A phylactery," Remus explained. "A soul container. I've only heard some things through my own studies, but it would explain why Dumbledore had us use that specific detection spell on you. It's only used in certain circumstances, and a Horcrux is one of them."

"So what exactly are they? What's so bad about them?" Mordred asked.

"I only know the broad details," Remus said. "Apparently, you first undergo a particularly vile ritual to prepare your soul. Then, you go and kill someone in cold blood. That act of murder, combined with the preparatory ritual, splits your soul, and you can put half of your soul into an object, thus acting as…"

"An anchor to this plane," Kairi said. "I get the picture. Lord El-Melloi II once told me of a case he did recently where Ernest Fargo bound himself to his house to make himself immortal."

"Here's the kicker," Remus said. "I don't think Voldemort would have contented himself with a single Horcrux. I think he made several."

"But why would Voldemort make Harry into a Horcrux?" Tonks asked. "It doesn't make sense."

"He was probably planning to make one with Harry's death, Dora. If he's done it as many times as I suspect, his soul might be…no, is in a fragile state. The Diary was a Horcrux. Dumbledore confirmed it was one of those things he used to stay in this realm. Now, imagine that the Horcrux wasn't destroyed when Harry changed bodies. Imagine it remained there. Now, it's unlikely that such a small fragment of soul would be enough to animate a body, but Voldemort was tenacious and powerful. It should be impossible, but…"

"The upshot is, which sounds utterly fucking insane," Harry said, "is that a fragment of Voldemort's soul has been in my scar since he murdered my parents, and Dumbledore hasn't done anything about it, and now, and this is the insane part, is walking around in my body?"

"It's only speculation, Harry," Remus pointed out. "I really hope that it isn't the case. Fawkes could tell your magic and thus your soul was yours when he tracked you, so we know you're you. But…"

"If it really is Voldemort, we really are in trouble," Sirius scowled. "If he gets a hold of the Holy Grail…what do you think he would do with it? Either way, it can't be good. And the problem is, we don't know for sure. Only…Astolfo, do you think someone in Yggdmillennia killed your Master?"

"The only one who'd have done so was Darnic," Astolfo pointed out. "The others were either scared of her, or, like that Roche kid, wouldn't have cared. Then again, she bragged that she loved to torture and kill any spare Homunculi she could. Maybe one of them rebelled. But…that pain…it's like my bones were on fire."

Harry blinked, realising that resembled the sensation he felt while under the Cruciatus. "If your theory is true, Remus, and Voldemort has summoned a Servant…then what kind of Servant would it be? There are two teams of seven Servants already, to say nothing of two Rulers…can Voldemort summon another Servant?"

"That's the million Galleon question right there, Harry," Remus said. "We know that there are seven main Servant classes, not including Ruler. But maybe there are more…"

"Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail's call, and obey my will and reason, then answer my summoning! I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world, that I shall defeat all evil in the world! Seventh Heaven clad, and the great words of power, come forth from the circle of bindings, Guardian of the Scales!"

Voldemort felt his magic surge into life within the dungeon, the summoning circle scrawled in Celenike's blood. The circle began to flare with a dark purple light, more like an absence of light that was tinted and tainted. He could feel something resisting his call, trying to block it, but he forced through his magic by sheer force of will.

He didn't know it, but Justeaze hadn't realised that the last lingering fragments of mana within Harry's body was a soul fragment, though to be honest, she could be excused for being preoccupied with ensuring Harry's soul transferred to another body. Plus, this Horcrux was less than a percent of his original soul. That it managed to become functional was a miracle, or at least a testament to Voldemort's tenacity and willpower.

And by the time she realised what had happened, and that he was trying to summon a Servant when all the others had been, it was too late. He had simply hijacked the ritual by sheer force of will…and summoned an atypical Servant. A Servant belonging to the same class her own family considered summoning during the Third Holy Grail War. Avenger.

But unlike the von Einzberns, who had intended to use Angra Mainyu as Avenger as a calculated act designed to give them victory (and, in other timelines, came back to bite them hard in the arse), Voldemort had chosen the class instinctively. Avengers were wrath and hatred embodied, just like Voldemort was. What he couldn't dominate, he destroyed. And the more autonomous functions of the Greater Grail, which Justeaze was too late to try and thwart, decided that there was an Avenger Servant that suited Voldemort very much.

A dark pillar of energy belched into the ceiling. And as it faded, Voldemort beheld his Servant, and exulted. Most people would cower in fear or despair, but all Voldemort could think as he looked upon her was that she was perfect.

She was a tall, utterly beautiful woman, with long tresses of purple hair growing from her scalp. Her figure was beautiful, even if her breasts were somewhat on the large side, and dressed in skimpy robes. She seemed like a goddess.

But she was clearly inhuman. Her hair changed into snake-like heads that hissed at him viciously. From her rear, a long, sensuous snake tail protruded, while her arms and legs were scaly and reptilian. A rigid visor was worn across her eyes.

"Hmph. Servant Avenger has answered your summons, mortal," the woman said, her voice echoing slightly. "We shall use each other for our own ends, and to whose untimely demise that will be, well, we shall see, won't we?"

Voldemort could have bristled at this haughty dismissal, but he knew who she was straight away. In Parseltongue, he said, "We will indeed, Lady Medusa."

Despite her eyes being hidden behind the visor, he got the impression she was surprised…though not in a good way. She merely scoffed. "Medusa…a name best forgotten. If you must call me by any name, then call me Gorgon…"

CHAPTER 15 ANNOTATIONS:

Oh dear. Astolfo has joined the good guys…but now, Voldemort's drawn his own Servant. Yes, I know, I did the same thing for Zabaniya, but there are few Servants so utterly suited to him than Gorgon.

Anyway, this is the last chapter I have written so far. The next chapter might be a while, but I have written nearly half of it already, so it might be out sooner. No guarantees, though…

Review-answering time! Casuar: How? In canon, Jeanne only succumbed to First Folio's influence when Shakespeare and Gilles pointed out the contradictions between her loving all humanity (and thus being an entirely objective referee for the Grail War) and her specific love and thus bias for Sieg. Until then, while a little shaken by what she saw in First Folio, she was able to withstand it.

No numbered annotations this time.