Chapter 23:

"The third power I could feel from outside. It is a taint. A darkness. Fortunately, its creator appears to have moved on. But the damage it did remains. Equality, the Goddess of Enchantment, is dying. Imagination, God of Design, is trying to save her, but doing so appears to have left him vulnerable. Time… does not seem to pass here. Imagination, or as he calls himself, Ourans, was aware of my presence immediately, but seemed shocked when I told him the year."

From the Secret Diary of Merlinus Caledonensis; Earth, 537 Common Era

Gabrielle knelt beside Flamel's corpse and rolled it over, a sense of shock permeating her entire body. Surely, it couldn't be that easy? She felt at his neck. No pulse.

Harry knelt down beside her and grabbed the hilt of the knife, pulling it free. The blade dripped with blood, some of it getting on his hands.

"What is that thing?" Ginny whispered.

"I asked the Goblins to make it for me. A knife, with an aluminium blade."

Gabrielle gasped. "Aluminium. It cancels out our powers."

"Not just ours. When we first met, Dumbledore told me that people like us from across the universe had a common weakness. Aluminium. A secret no doubt told to Dumbledore by Flamel himself. It was a safe bet it would work against other magics as well. The Goblins, they were really unsettled when I asked them to make this." He lifted the knife, then discarded it. "They knew what it would do before I even explained why I wanted it. A spike made of Aluminium, once charged they said, could be used to take away any magical powers a person possessed. Regardless of where they got them." He grabbed Flamel's belt and pulled free the potion vials. "I have no idea what these are supposed to be." He threw them away. Finally, being sure to stay clear of the sword, he grabbed the knife at Flamel's waist.

"The Goblins said the knife would only work once before being recharged. I have no idea what that means, and I don't think I want to find out."

A series of footsteps echoed through the room, and Dumbledore appeared, flanked by Professors Flitwick and Snape.

"Harry! What happened?!" He demanded. Harry cursed under his breath, then returned Flamel's knife to his belt. Gabrielle spun on Dumbledore and started talking out of her ass.

"We came searching to make sure no-one was hurt Professor," she said, "We evacuated the wounded students, then we came in here to find the source of the explosion. We just found Mister Flamel. He's dead." Harry climbed over Flamel's corpse to avoid going near the sword and grabbed the open metal box.

"The Philosopher's Stone is gone," Harry said, holding up the box and turning to Dumbledore. "Who would be smart enough to find it, powerful enough to beat the wards protecting it without help, and have the motive to steal it in the first place?" Dumbledore paled.

"Who!" Harry demanded, and Dumbledore actually flinched.

"There could be only one, but he's dead. Has been for fourteen years."

"Who Albus?" Flitwick asked, gripping his wand tightly in his hand. Dumbledore turned to Snape, then froze. His gaze had locked onto Harry's hands. Ones flecked with blood from the knife.

In an instant, he'd whipped out his wand and fired a dozen spells at Harry before Gabrielle could even blink. Harry shoved her and Ginny aside with the Fusion Force and dodged each spell, before casting a lance of Decay Force back at Dumbledore. Flitwick dove out of the way and Snape was sent careening by Dumbledore as he dispersed the black energy. Gabrielle crashed into a shelf, hitting her head on the ground. She shook her head rapidly, rising to her feet as quickly as she could.

Harry and Dumbledore fought like a storm. Spell after spell shot between them as they dodged, shielded and flipped amongst the flames and debris, ash falling from the roof. She didn't dare try to intervene, lest she accidentally hurt Harry, or worse, distract him and leave Dumbledore an opening.

Harry absorbed three rapid fire stunning spells by raising up a section of the floor, then he punched through the stone and sent the fragments hurtling towards the Headmaster. Dumbledore dispersed the pieces as Harry launched himself forward with Fusion, Mak a blur beside him. A piece of metal shelving flew into Harry's hands, and he brought it down towards Dumbledore's head. The Headmaster barely sidestepped, transforming his wand into a longsword to deflect the shard of metal. Harry parried twice, then kicked Dumbledore in the leg and swung with his fist – electricity crackling across his knuckles – into Dumbledore's side. He took the blow hard, jerking under the assault, and Harry pressed his advantage. He blasted Dumbledore with the black heat of Decay, shooting the old man backwards into another shelf. Harry glided forward, decreasing friction with the Strength Force, but Dumbledore recovered quickly, shooting Harry with a purple spell. It struck him in the chest, and giant ethereal chains formed from the air clamping around him. Harry screamed, flying backwards and hitting the floor. Then his body began to glow with white light, before releasing a burst of energy – Life Force – that rolled across the room.

And as it did, Gabrielle's vision shifted for a moment.

No longer were they in a room filed with metal and flames. Instead they stood in an endless sea of mud and slime beneath a cold, distant sun. In the distance, a beam of light, refracting all colours of the rainbow, soared into the sky. Vel stood beside her, human sized and proud. On the other side of the battlefield she spotted Ember – a woman with ash white skin and flames for hair – standing beside Ginny, who looked as speechless as Gabrielle did. She could see Professor Flitwick as well, a diminutive figure that reflected an inner slight silver. Snape… Snape just looked like a shadow, obscured and hard to define.

But Harry. He shone with a bright silver energy. A tether of liquid power connected him to Makani, who floated behind him as a silver and blue figure with great wings spanning ten feet in either direction. As Harry drew on his tether to her, she pulled more and more magic from the very air around them, and the mud around Harry's feet was repulsed away from him like a wave. The mud… it was obscuring a majestic blue sea.

Dumbledore glowed slightly too, but his body refracted a soft rainbow light, rather than the magnificence of Harry's energy.

There was one other person visible on this side. A man with skin of red and black – purple smoke billowing around his form.

Gabrielle blinked, and the vision dissipated. But this time she remembered. She remembered seeing into that other place before, when she'd used her allure on Ginny. The dreams she'd been having were real. And that other creature. She wasn't hallucinating. There really was another faerie following her. Only it had seemed distracted by the fight, just as they were. Could she use that?

Gabrielle tore her eyes away from Harry as the chains shattered and he slung an entire shelf at Dumbledore, who deflected it into the roof. There! A shadow that was absorbing the light around it, hovering just above the ground beneath one of the toppled shelves near Snape's crouched form.

Gabrielle coughed as ash filled her lungs, and she tried to repeat Harry's trick with the Division bubble. Whether she was doing it wrong, or her concentration was just off she wasn't sure, but she couldn't recreate it. Instead she just ran.

"We must find this void-faerie," Vel declared, "It is fuelled by hatred. By the fight itself."

Gabrielle understood. Whenever she'd tried to face this creature, it had instilled her with a panic, a self-hatred that had warped her mind. She would not allow it to happen again. If it was feeding off the conflict, she had to kill it now before it gained strength.

She skirted around the duel, ducking several times to avoid stray spells, pieces of shelving, or even at one point a giant elephant plushie, but eventually she approached the back of the shelving where the void-faerie hid. That's when Snape grabbed her around the mouth and lifted her off the ground.

"I don't think so, Veela cunt," he hissed.

"Suck on this you greasy haired motherfucker," Ginny exclaimed. She jumped onto Snape's back and grabbed him by the head. Then she pumped a current of electricity straight through his brain.

Snape's hair electrified, sparking on end as his eyes turned bloodshot. He dropped Gabrielle, spasming as his hair caught on fire. He fell to the floor with a muted thud.

"Thanks," she breathed.

"That's what sisters do right?" Ginny asked, smiling softly.

"Yeah," Gabrielle said, smiling in turn. "It's what real sisters do."

An explosion rocked the room, and the girls spun back to the action as a rogue spell struck the roof. The stonework caved in, exposing the sun high above. The shards of rock froze in the air, and half of them transfigured into bubbles. The other half forged into razor sharp spikes, then rained down towards Harry. He used the Fusion Force to knock them away, scattering the metal across the room, but Dumbledore used the distraction to break Harry's defence, sending him crashing backwards.

"What's the plan?" Ginny asked.

"We kill that void-faerie," she hissed, "the one that's been haunting me these last few months.

Ginny's eyes went wide. "It's still alive?" she said incredulously.

Gabrielle nodded, and Ginny's face hardened.

"How do you kill a faerie?"

"You can't," Ember said, floating beside Vel in Gabrielle's pocket, "But we can." Ember grabbed Vel's hand and zoomed straight towards the fallen shelf where the void-faerie hid.

Harry flew backwards under Dumbledore's onslaught, crashing into the ground. He summoned a wall of Division and braced all his energy against it. Above his head, three powers crashed against one another. Each was a ray of light – a figment of energy. He could see Ember, a splinter of red and white. Vel was the light of green and brown. But where had the purple and black faerie come from, and why were they fighting it?

"It is a faerie of Odium. Drawn here by the hatred of your battle," Mak explained. He could see her as a diminutive girl with blue skin and blonde hair fluttering on insect like wings in the air. But he could also see Mak as an angel in silver raiment standing beside him, bleeding power. He didn't question it. To him, Mak had always been an angel. His angel. The light that came to him when the night was darkest. She was his magic. His heart.

"Should you be helping them?"

"My essence is too fixed here with you. To do so would be to divert much of your strength. It is up to Ember and Vel to stop it."

"Can they do that? Kill one of their own kind?"

"We are not bound by such rigid tenants as Honour or Preservation. Imagination is the power of belief. It can act to Cultivate, Preserve or Ruin. All abstract is born of Imagination, and so we have the freedom to choose our nature. I trust they will make the right choice." Harry had to trust that they would too.

He turned his attention back to Dumbledore, who was blasting a wall of electricity at him from all angles. It was taking all his power to keep the Division shield up, and Dumbledore knew it. If he tried to use another force, the shield would break. He was trapped.

"You can't beat me Harry," Dumbledore said, bearing down on him. He was bleeding from dozens of wounds, but he remained on his feet. Not bad. Most evil old white men Harry had known were all bark and no bite.

"Give this up, surrender the Stone and help me take up the power of Equality and save the world."

Yeah… Harry didn't think that would end too well for him somehow.

He closed his eyes, questing out for anything. Begging, calling to Imagination, to anyone who might be listening, for any help he could gain. Nothing answered. There was only the clashing of the faeries above him, and a dull whimpering…

Whimpering?

Harry's gaze snapped up at the same time Mak's did. Dumbledore's wand. The Elder Wand. It was powered by a faerie. That was why he was so powerful. Dumbledore was effectively cheating. That meant… that meant Dumbledore must be using Imagination's power to fuel his Enchantment instead of Equality's fractured essence like the rest of the wizarding world. He was effectively bypassing Equality to draw magic from Imagination instead, bastardising the system. But what had Harry spent the last year learning? You couldn't use Enchantment and Design at the same time.

"Give up!"

"The day may come, when the courage of men fails," Harry hissed, inwardly laughing at his ability to come up with a Lord of the Rings reference in the middle of a battle to the death, "When we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship." Harry eased his wand – apple wood, with a faerie blood core – from the pocket of his robes and closed his eyes.

"But it is not this day," he whispered, "This day we fight!"

"Thrilling speech," Dumbledore said sourly, leaning over Harry's cracking shield.

"It wasn't meant for you." Dumbledore hesitated. In Harry's mind, the whimpering turned to a pain filled scream. And for a split second, Dumbledore's attack faltered. Harry released the shield of Division and aimed his wand instead.

"Expelliarmus!" The Elder Wand jerked out of Dumbledore's hand and flew into Harry's. Then Harry summoned the Strength Force and punched a shocked Dumbledore right in the chest.

He howled, flying across the room and crashing into a wardrobe. In his mind, the faerie bound to the Elder Wand, sighed in relief.

Overhead, the three lights collided one final time, then exploded outwards in a shower of sparks. Ember reformed, holding Vel by the arm. The purple faerie solidified into a man with black hair falling in slow motion, trailing purple mist. Ember dropped Vel, who was quickly caught by Gabrielle, then charged forward. She summoned her ethereal blade, and slammed it through the faerie's chest.

"That's for breaking my Ginny." The void-faerie shrieked, before exploding into golden dust. Ginny stepped out of the rubble, and Ember floated down to her. Then she pulled the faerie close, cradling it to her chest. Harry glanced to Mak – he could no longer see her angelic form – and she nodded softly.

There was no bond more sacred than that between human and faerie. Love was a phenomenal and unpredictable power it was true. But Harry and Mak? Ginny and Ember? They shared souls.

Two years ago…

Walking through two worlds, Ginny forged her way through darkness. She'd opened the passage into the Chamber by speaking some words she didn't understand and jumped into the hole in the mud. Now she was in the cave on both sides, using the beam as her guide. It was far easier to move when the two worlds matched one another. She didn't understand what she was seeing. Her thoughts were… clearer now. The closer she got to the beam, the more her memories aligned themselves.

Perpendicularity.

What was a Perpendicularity? The beam? It was the only thing that made sense. What was the other place she could see? Myrtle had called it the Valley, but Ginny knew it by another name. The Expanse of Delusions. It seemed a fitting description, given what was happening to her. Whatever it was, it was a world of spirits, and Ginny was straddling the barrier between them – thanks to Tom.

A cursed Diary! How had she not seen that?! How many times had her father told her not to trust something if she couldn't see where it kept its brain? She couldn't blame herself. Not really. There must be some sort of spell on it to prevent the user from being aware of what they were doing. At least she understood why these changes had been warping her. Hopefully, with Tom gone, she'd go back to normal.

That won't bring back Hermione, or Justin, and it won't wake up the petrified children.

Dumbledore had ordered the school evacuated; she'd heard his voice over the magical loudspeaker before she entered the cave. Good. Whatever she unleashed down here, at least only she would be the one to die. She didn't care. She wouldn't leave this place until she was free, or she was dead. She wouldn't go back to the oblivion of not knowing during the day and the nightmares of awareness at night. Tom, and that golden-spirit, would not win.

She arrived at a doorway carved with snakes on the physical side. On the spirit side, there was a just a hole. Beyond was the beam.

She spoke the same words as before, and the snake covered door swung open for her. She climbed through, then stepped down on the other side.

The worlds merged.

She was in a chamber of some kind, a raised platform of smooth black tile running down the centre. Between it and the walls on either side were two fountain pools of water. Statues of snakes lined the walls. But she could also see, hanging like an overlay on the real world, the place of spirits. The mud correlated directly to the solid ground. The water, however, was a dull coloured rock, covered in slime. Mud slid down the walls in globs.

At the end of the corridor, in a large atrium dominated by a giant statue head she recognised as Salazar Slytherin, was a pool. Bordered by a raised layer of the same black stone, the pool was perfectly circular, and seemed to be made of a reflective liquid that glowed with all colours at the same time. It was completely still. On the other side, Ginny could see the beam shooting up out of the pool, rising through the mud roof. It would emerge above from the stone island. The Black Lake, she now realised.

She advanced forward, Diary in hand, passing snake after snake statue, until she came up to the very edge of the pool. Something, made of a silvery metal, had been stabbed through the dead centre of the pool. Occasionally, a small bubble would burst around it. At its peak was a gemstone filled with shimmering purple light.

"I suppose congratulations are in order, Ginny Weasley." She spun around, wand in her right hand, diary in her left, and found herself face to face with the golden-spirit.

"Who are you spirit? Why are you doing this to me?"

The man gave her that sweet pitying smile.

"I am Odium."

Odium. The very word was enough to send a shiver down her spine.

"Hatred. Divine Wrath," she murmured.

"A crude, if accurate description," he said, walking up beside her and staring into the pool, "As for why, I am not doing anything to you my dear. I am… bound you see. My power is locked away. Imprisoned, upon the spit of cursed rock that is Braize. You should count yourself fortunate that I am. If I was free… I would not have to resort to such underhanded and weak efforts to get what I want."

IMPRISONED YOU REMAIN, ODIUM. RETURN TO DAMNATION AND TROUBLE MY WORLD NO MORE.

It was the majestic voice, the echoing one from before.

Odium merely grinned, continuing to stare at the pool.

"Equality. A pathetic notion. It's no wonder I killed her so easily," he said softly.

I AM NOT AS DEAD AS YOU WOULD LIKE RAYSE. YOUR HORRENDOUS ACTS AGAINST DEVOTION AND DOMINION WILL NOT REPEAT THEMSELVES HERE. BEGONE.

Odium laughed softly.

"As you wish," he whispered, "Tell Harmony I said hello." He turned to Ginny, and she looked into the spirits eyes. They were like whirlpools, deep, dark wells of horrific and terrifying power. This… this was not Odium. It was merely the mask he allowed her to see.

"I don't say this often, Daughter of Equality. But well done." Then he vanished.

Ginny, heart pounding, turned back to the pool.

"Equality?" She asked, trying desperately to understand what was happening.

I AM HERE FOR BUT A MOMENT, DAUGHTER. I CANNOT HELP YOU FOR WHAT COMES NEXT. BE STRONG.

"Next? What comes next? That wasn't it?" The voice did not answer. She glanced down to the book in her hand.

The pool exploded, and Ginny flew backwards with a scream. The rainbow liquid surged outwards, before being sucked back into the pit. A hand was holding onto the black stone. Another hand appeared, and the Diary in Ginny's hand began to steam. She dropped it, kicking it away from her. The book flipped open, and a purple light, wreathed in shadow, shot out from the pages. The light buzzed around in the air for a moment, before resolving into a tiny figure with black hair, emitting shadow instead of light. It stood on a cloud of purple darkness. A faerie. A head burst free from the pool. Black hair, dark eyes, pale skin. Tom.

"Get her!" The faerie transformed back into light and shot into Ginny's chest.

Pain lanced through her entire body, pouring flame through her very being. Indescribable hate and anger. She felt it all. Tom… his hatred of being trapped in a book, his hatred of her and her stupid writing, his hatred of others, his hatred of love and faith, and, above all, his hatred of himself. It was overwhelming. She screamed her lungs out, scratching at her chest in agony.

"OUT OUT OUT OUT!"

"There is no escape Ginny Weasley! You gave yourself to me! You hated yourself so much that I was able to fill the cracks. Poor Ginny Weasley, too scared to stand up for herself. Too cowardly to go for help. Too stupid to stop. So inexplicably dumb that she trusted an enchanted diary she found amongst her things without even questioning it! You're mine Ginny. You're worthless. Hopeless."

She understood then, as the pain tore her apart, what had happened. Tom had fed upon her fear, using it to draw her into confiding in him and the Diary. Then he'd turned that fear into self-loathing, driving her into herself more and more. The more she feared others, the more she feared herself, and the more she hated herself for being weak. And on and on it went. The perfect prison.

She felt herself slipping away, folding into the pain. Unconsciousness, now, meant death. Or something far worse. And yet, the last rational part of her mind thought, she had seen through the prison. She had fought back. Why? How?

Odium. He had left. Why would he leave… unless he'd given up.

What did Ginny have that could fight against a hate as strong as Tom's? As strong as her own? Nothing. She had nothing. This was all her fault… and that was when it hit her.

Somewhere, distant, an echo of a voice entered her mind. 'Take thy hand!'

Her self-hatred. Her loathing. It all came from one thing – her fear and hate of being unable to help. Of being unable to stop. Her hatred of being weak…

"Stretch forth thy hand, Ginevra!"

It was her fault. She had opened the Diary. She had written to Tom. She had trusted him, and in doing so, let him inside. Tainting her. She had done those things, there was no point in denying it. What mattered was how she had fought back. She'd fought against Tom. She'd resisted him. The people who'd been petrified; she'd saved them. Justin and Hermione's deaths were on her. She should have been better, stronger. But she'd tried. She'd fought. And in her moment of clarity, she'd taken up the burden one more time, and she'd come down into this hellscape of her own free will. Searching for Freedom.

"Reach!"

Ginny screamed her throat raw and threw her hand out before her. A bright silver light flooded her mind, washing away the pain, then she was back in the Chamber.

She staggered forward, collapsing on the cold stone. The purple faerie lay near the pool, disorientated, but not dead. Tom had risen entirely from the pool, but he appeared faded, not truly there.

Ginny dashed for the Diary, lying open on the stones. Tom dove for it too, but he phased through it. He was still too attached to the other side – the spirit side. Whatever that purple faerie had done to her, it hadn't worked properly. She'd managed to reject it. The faerie jumped up into the air with a hiss, then zoomed towards Ginny again. The air in front of her coalesced from silver mist, transforming into another faerie, with black hair and ash white skin. The two faeries collided with one another, dissolving into tiny flashes of light. For a fraction of a second, she could see a man with red and black skin and a woman in an elegant black gown with flames for hair – the faeries in their true forms, their forms from the Valley – battling on the other side.

She grabbed the Diary, then, charging through Tom as he fumed and tried to grab her, she threw the Diary at the contraption in the centre of the pool. It hit the machine, toppling it and the gemstone into the liquid. The gemstone sunk instantly, but the metal remained. The Diary… the Diary burst into flames.

"NOOOO!" Tom cried. Ginny spun back just in time to watch as his essence faded away from the physical world, returning, permanently, to the spirit realm where it belonged. The two faeries separated, and the purple one screamed in anguish, then vanished in a puff of shadow. The ash like faerie floated down beside Ginny's face. Together, they watched as the Diary was slowly absorbed into the pool. There was a shock of light from the beam on the other side, and for a moment, the mud vanished, replaced by tranquil waters, stone turned to grass. The mud returned quickly though, and, with a sigh of fatigue, Ginny blinked one last time. When she opened her eyes, the spirit world was gone.

Ginny shook her head several times, sinking to the floor beside the pool. What the hell had that been? Faeries, a cursed Diary, ancient spirit-gods? The faerie in front of her reached out a tiny hand, and bopped her on the nose. She giggled softly, then floated down to the floor, curled up, and went to sleep. Ginny, her whole body groaning in dull pain, laid down on the stones, and followed suit.

Harry forced Dumbledore to take them to where his friends were being held prisoner. He refused at first. Then Harry had summoned the Decay force and stepped on the Headmaster's left hand, burning it to a crisp.

He acquiesced rather quickly after that. They finally fled the Room of Lost Things, meeting up with Flitwick – who had retrieved Flamel's body and his giant sword, though he held the latter with a gloved hand and winced when he moved it. Harry finally retrieved Flamel's knife, stowing it carefully within his robes. Snape – who it seemed was barely alive, though he was now bald for some reason – had also been dragged out. As they moved through the castle, holding Dumbledore at wand point, Sirius, Sammy and Remus found them and related the discovery of Daphne in the Headmaster's Office. She was in the hospital wing under the care of Madame Pomfrey now, Astoria at her side, and her mother and father were on their way. Harry breathed a sigh of relief at that.

Flitwick broke away to hide Flamel's corpse and his giant sword, and Harry, Ginny and Gabrielle were immediately relieved by its absence.

Dumbledore eventually led them down to the deepest floor of the dungeons. There, in the darkest, filthiest corner of the castle, he pressed his hand to the wall and whispered an incantation. The wall slid aside, revealing a clean passageway just like the rest of the castle above. Harry guessed they were under the Black Lake. Even the Marauders hadn't known this place existed, judging by Sirius whispering to Remus that they'd need to add the hidden floor to the Marauders Map.

They passed numerous cell like rooms, Mak flying inside to check each one. She reported only one room in the corridor with an occupant. A woman, sitting on a camp bed, rocking back and forth, muttering in a language Mak didn't understand. Harry decided to bring Madame Pomfrey down here later to help her.

Ginny wrenched open the door to the cell his friends were trapped, and Fred and George fired stunners out the opening. Dumbledore took both in the face, then collapsed.

"Nice," Harry remarked.

"My god Harry!" Fred exclaimed, rushing out into the hallway, then, spotting Ginny, pulled her into a hug. Harry continued into the cell, and Emily slammed into him, balling her eyes out. All three of them looked worse for wear, George was cradling his ribs and Emily had dry blood crusted on her blouse, but there were no serious injuries that he could see.

"What happened?"

"He killed James," Emily sobbed, so Harry just held her. He kicked Dumbledore for good measure.

"It's alright, Flamel's dead. I killed him. He can't hurt anyone ever again."

Emily continued crying for a long time, until footsteps came rushing down the corridor behind them. Emily pulled away from Harry, rubbing her eyes, and he turned around to see McGonagall, Nylah and Fleur approaching.

"Potter, you're not going to believe this," McGonagall said, hair a mess. "Miss Delacour and several others reported seeing a man sneak into the castle during the chaos. A man with a bald head, pale skin and red eyes. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they were describing…"

She didn't say the name, but she didn't need to. There was only one person who could fit that description. And at that second, Harry realised who had stolen the Philosopher's Stone. He glanced at Ginny, who looked pale as a sheet.

"Voldemort's back."