Lord Voldemort was alive.
The Boy-Who-Lived could only stare at the murderer of his parents in abstract boredom. It was one thing to be a powerful dark wizard. It was quite another to be a dark wizard who was not even remotely attractive in any sense of the word. Harry Potter didn't have a problem with those of the dark; he was interested in knowledge alone, and was therefore a decidedly grey wizard. But for one who claimed to be the most powerful wizard whom only Albus Dumbledore could hope to stand on even ground with, one would think that he would use his magic to at least make it so that people didn't have to resist the urge to vomit when looking upon his visage.
With a mental shrug, Harry listened as Voldemort began to speak about the lack of faith his followers had in him. The loss of faith was something that couldn't be helped, the youth figured, as he was essentially destroyed when Lily Potter (nee Evans) sacrificed herself to save her baby. That would be enough to make anyone lose faith. Despite the Death Eaters gazing upon their lord, there was a sensation of being watched that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end.
Turning his emerald gaze to the right, Harry noticed Lucius Malfoy holding his wand. Just then, a rage unlike any other burned within the fourth-year Ravenclaw. How dare this blood-elitist, arrogant prat lay a hand on one of his most prized possessions! Undoubtedly, the only thing worse would have been if they found out about the tattoo on his right arm that held his grimoire. Should anyone that Harry did not directly permit touch that book, he would tear their mind asunder. As it currently stands, Draco Malfoy's father was on Harry's Hitlist. His wand, a cherry creation of nine and a half inches with a Thestral hair core, was crying out to his very soul.
"If you are quite finished," Harry interrupted the Dark Lord as he continued to speak. "We could perhaps get down to business."
Some of the Death Eaters hissed, while others looked affronted that this half-blood dared to address their master in such a casual way. Voldemort himself seemed to forget that his nemesis had been trapped by the headstone's depiction of the Grim Reaper. Nevertheless, the time had come to kill the Boy-Who-Lived.
"Before we begin." Lily Evans' son closed his eyes in focus as he gathered his energies. It was a surprise when his eyes opened, glowing like the Killing Curse. More surprising still was the shockwave of magical energy that was released, throwing the Death Eaters backwards and turning the statue holding him prisoner to a fine powder. He levitated for a moment before his feet touched the ground. "Accio, wand."
His most prized possession flew from the hand of Lucius Malfoy and into Harry's awaiting right, now warm and where it belonged. In the sky above the cemetery, the dark mark formed from the clouds dispersed until nothing remained by the ethereal light of the waxing crescent moon.
"Very interesting, Harry Potter." said Voldemort, surprised. "Tell me, what is it you desire?"
Harry looked at the man who killed his parents, and when he spoke, it was as though several dozen people were speaking as one. "Knowledge."
It was true. Long before he became a Ravenclaw, the only thing that interested him were various ways to learn. In muggle schooling, he was the top of his classes. The only way the Dursleys kept him from alerting the police to their neglectful and very abusive ways was to purchase any number of books for him. Secrets called out to his blood like a siren's call, and he would always answer. It was what led him to taking Astronomy in Hogwarts along with Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. It was with those classes that he managed to find the greatest secret in all of magical Britain. This led him to gaining the score of tattoos on his right arm, symbols and spell circles that had been burned into his flesh magically after he was given the grimoire towards the end of his second year.
Harry Potter and the wizard once known as Tom Marvolo Riddle merely eyed each other.
The Boy-Who-Lived shocked all those in attendance by sliding his wand into its holster in his black and purple school robes. The Death Eaters quickly armed themselves by drawing their own wands, but Harry chuckled darkly.
"Ldpseli igc'am." he spoke in an alien tongue, before another shockwave of mystic energy exploded from his body. "Now we can truly get down to business."
"And what business would that be?" asked the Dark Lord curiously.
Harry waved his right hand, conjuring a seat from the earth below. All eyes were on him. It took a moment, but one of the Death Eaters noticed a faint emerald line leading to another, and yet another. As the followers of the Lord Voldemort continued to look around, they noticed they stood in the center of a massive ritual circle, the faint green carving both lines and forbidden arcane runes into the soft earth of the cemetery. One of the younger Death Eaters waved his wand, but nothing happened. The others tried to perform some kind of magic, any magic they could think of. Some of them resorted to calling out jinxes, hexes, and even curses. Some attempted to apparate. One of the gathered even attempted to curse Harry directly.
Each of them failed.
Lord Voldemort raised a nonexistent brow, clearly intrigued. "What breed of magic is this?"
Harry didn't answer. This was one of the spells that was in the pages of the tome granted to him by The Dreamer. One that nullified all magic within an area.
"The only one of us that can perform magic within this area is me." said Harry. "You know, it's fascinating. You all loathe the muggleborn, but you seem to forget one thing. The Dark Lord is nothing but a half-blood. Not that it matters; in my presence, you're all naught but muggles."
Lord Voldemort merely glared, as did his Death Eaters. Harry ignored them, turning his icy gaze to the little bastard that betrayed his parents. Peter Pettigrew squeaked in fright, but before the thought of attempting to escape made itself known in his mind, he found himself knocked over. A force unseen by all dragged the prone traitor before Harry. Not a second passed before the pathetic excuse of a man started groveling at the fourth year's feet.
The rest of the Death Eaters looked on in disgust, but Voldemort himself said nothing as the animagus lived up to his other form. He was vermin through and through. Though, he supposed he needed some form of amusement.
"Silence." When Harry Potter spoke that singular word, it seemed to echo within the minds of those who heard. "You will go before the Wizengamot and prove the innocence of Sirius Black, do you understand?"
Wormtail nodded fervently, hoping this was the only way to get the boy to spare his life.
"Good." the Boy-Who-Lived clenched his fist.
Chains of black energy erupted from the soft ground of the cemetery below, binding the rat tightly. Dust rose and became skeletal hands that held tightly to the one responsible for his parents' final slumber.
Lord Voldemort looked on, his intrigue rising all the time. "Such powerful magic."
Harry snapped his fingers. The other Death Eaters were bound by the chains of darkness, each clasped between a set of skeletal hands. A single arcane symbol blazed to life in the center of the hands that bound the Death Eaters, glowing a sickly green. They looked on in fear at the boy who survived that night so long ago. They could now see that he was a true lord. There were no threats, there were no chances given. It was all for naught. Many of them realized that they should have fled when they were presented the opportunity.
"You all live on a placid island of ignorance, in the midst of black seas of infinity." Harry said calmly, as though he were talking about the weather. "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn."
Tom Riddle regarded Harry with a bored, yet curious expression as the younger boy spoke in the same queer language he had not even a few moments ago. Until he snapped his fingers. Pain that transcended pain began coursing through his veins, burning him and dragging him to his knees as he screamed. Liquid agony was being injected into his veins, poured into the remnants of his soul.
"Without your horcruxes, you are nothing but a mortal that fears death." Harry stood. "The dawn of your ending has arrived."
He pulled out his wand and for the briefest moment, the entire cemetery flashed a brilliant green and Voldemort was no more.
She had begged him, pleading with tears in her eyes to speak on behalf of her husband and her elder sister. Narcissa Malfoy had even gone as far as swearing herself to his service, nothing but a lowly servant or slave to do with what he pleased. In truth, she was doing this for her son. He held his father on a pedestal that she could never hope to reach. But that wasn't it. When the identities of the Death Eaters became public, the Malfoy's were targeted. There were no bribes this time and there would be no forgiveness. All Death Eaters would be executed; some pushed through the Veil, and others given the Dementor's Kiss. Once Lucius died, the wards protecting Malfoy manor would go with him, and allow those that wished to do their family harm free reign. And, in spite of his clear discomfort with having a servant, Harry Potter agreed.
The mother of one listened to how passionately he spoke to the Wizengamot, how he made it seem like Lucius was doing the best he could for her and their son. He spoke of the earliest of his memories; the death of his father and the green flash that ended the life of his mother. With that, the Wizengamot moved to set Lucius free, though under the watch of Aurors until further notice.
For his sister, he brought forth the marriage contract to the Lestranges that her parents wrote up in their teenage years. It was signed, as Narcissa remembered, with a blood quill. But the queer part was the number of compulsion, confounding, and loyalty charms that laced the contract. It was no wonder her sister was deemed insane; she was quite literally under the control of the prat she married. Even Narcissa was unaware of this. As such, it was proven that Bellatrix was never in her right mind, never truly cognizant of her actions. Even now, as she looked upon her sister, Bella looked far calmer than she had in recent years, the light of intelligence once again shining behind a pair of lovely violet eyes. Narcissa made a note to thank Harry and a previously freed Sirius Black.
The trial was over. Only two Death Eaters survived, and that was only because of the grace of the Boy-Who-Lived. All in attendance were dismissed and Narcissa made her way to her master to honor the life debt she owed.
"Thank you, Master." the woman said, bowing at the waist.
Harry merely watched her, his face and gaze unreadable. In the end, he gave her an incline of his head. Moments later, they were joined by Bellatrix Black. She too thanked him, naming him her lord and liege. Narcissa wondered what her sister was playing at, but remained silent. It was no longer her place to speak freely. Draco Malfoy joined the small gathering, his wand drawn. Before the mother or aunt could say anything, he cried out in pain. His face was contorted, as though pain was being injected directly into his veins. Narcissa gasped as her son fell to his knees, clutching the sides of his head. When she looked to her Master, she saw his eyes aglow, reminiscent of the curse used to kill his parents. She turned her gaze to her sister, only to find the other woman staring at the lad with something akin to reverence within her eyes. It was only when those whirlpools of green stopped glowing that her son lay panting on the floor of the council room.
"Listen up, Malfoy." he spoke in a voice as detached as it was cold, and at the moment, the mother realized that he couldn't care less about her son's life. "I may have just helped your father escape the death penalty, but that means nothing. The next time you try to attack me, I will tear your mind asunder."
With his piece said, he turned on his heel and left. Draco Malfoy's mother and aunt hurried after him. Once they were out of earshot of her former family, Narcissa turned to her sister.
"What do you think you're doing, Bellatrix?" the younger of the two hissed.
The former Lestrange didn't spare her sister a glance. "I was in the cemetery when he was reborn, Lord Voldemort. But compared to my Lord, Voldemort's magic energy was like comparing a breeze to a tornado. He may be young, but he has impossible power. He didn't use his wand for his spells. He turned us all muggle. Cissy, do you know how terrifying it is to lose your magic? In any case, he saved my life and freed me from that horrid contract. I'm choosing to follow him."
Her eyes widened, before she turned her gaze to the boy waiting for them to catch up. Was it possible?
"Yes, it is." answered Harry when the sisters caught up. "It's a spell called Antimagic Field, and it is dangerous for people like us. Well, I'm immune to the effects so long as I am the one who cast the spell."
"Did you-"
"Read your mind?" Harry finished her sentence. "No, I could just hear what you two were talking about. Thanks, by the way, Bellatrix. But that isn't necessary."
"Yes, it is!" insisted the once insane woman. "I was a prisoner in my own body. You saved me, from both death and my prison. There is no other way I can properly thank you."
Harry merely stared Bellatrix in her eyes, before sighing as though he still had the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Very well. Come, my ladies."
Narcissa and Bellatrix exchanged glances. Their master was a strange one.
The trio exited Gringotts in varying degrees of surprise. Harry, due to actually competing in the Triwizard Tournament, was emancipated and able to claim his inheritance. Reading his parents' wills was an emotional ordeal, one that he actually enjoyed. They loved him, they truly did. Beside that, he was given the ring of the Lord of the House of Potter. Apparently, his family was a noble and ancient family, one with their hands dipped almost everywhere in magical Britain. That aside, the Black sisters were beyond surprised to hear that the Potters had several vaults full of gold. The young lord gifted a money bag near bursting with gold to either sister. Their business concluded, they left the bank.
"Wands,"
Narcissa and Bellatrix regarded their lord with a curious gaze. He made no move aside from staring into both sets of eyes, one dark and the other an expressive violet. Thus far, Harry had proven a bizarre master. One moment, he was a wizard who had the power and confidence to take over the world, and the next he was just a teenager that made references to things he'd read with that damnable lopsided grin.
"My Lord?" quested Bellatrix hesitantly.
He held out his right hand. "Your wands, please."
They handed them over, only to cry out as he snapped them with ease and set the pieces in either hand aflame. A moment or two passed before naught was left but ash. They hadn't a chance before Harry chuckled at the looks of incredulity on their faces. In their society, to snap another's wand was a sign of the ultimate disrespect. In fact, some of the other witches and wizards in the Alley winced and looked on apologetically, despite the glares they threw at the sisters.
"Don't look like that." he said, looking them in the eyes. "This is to be your new life, no? It would stand to reason then that you would need new wands."
Bellatrix nodded. Her wand was used to commit atrocities that she was haunted by, and she would have ended up buying herself a new wand before too long had passed. Narcissa blinked. It made sense, she supposed, but still. To just snap their wands like that in broad daylight. In public. Then again, she was no longer Lady Malfoy, wife to Lucius Malfoy. She was now Narcissa Black of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, vassal to Lord Harry James Potter. Though her master was kind enough to treat her as a sentient human thus far, she was still just a servant. Somehow, the saying 'Oh how the mighty have fallen,' didn't seem quite adequate enough to wholly describe the situation she put herself in.
A gentle hand rested on her cheek. She flinched, but soon met the gaze of a pair of emerald eyes that held a kindness with which she was hitherto unfamiliar.
"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, Narcissa." he said.
His voice was like velvet as she spoke in soft tones to her. For a moment, everything turned into smoke and vanished, leaving only master and vassal on a plane of infinity. Sooner than she was ready for, Diagon Alley came rushing back to her in a cacophony of sights, sounds, and sensations. For a moment, the former wife was dazed.
"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you too, Bellatrix." he smiled kindly at the woman. "Come, we have some shopping to do. Anything you two want is on me."
Narcissa would swear to the heavens that she had never once seen Bellatrix blush in such a manner. She herself had never felt such when Lucius held, kissed, or made love to her. Like it none existed but the two of them. By the gods, she needed to calm down.
Continuing on their way, they stopped at Ollivanders and received new wands. The one to choose Bellatrix was a springy Sycamore wand that measured thirteen and quarter inches, a basilisk horn for the core. Narcissa was chosen by a supple Apple wand that measured nine and a half inches, with a dragon heartstring core. After paying for the wands, they left and went to Madam Malkins for new clothes, Flourish and Blotts for books, and other purchases. The day flew by and the sun had started to set by the time they left the alley.
After a filling lunch in the Leaky Cauldron, Harry led the sisters back to 4 Privet Drive. He hadn't had the chance to take his things to 12 Grimmauld Place before he was put on trial himself. In any case, when he knocked on the door, he turned to his servants.
"My relatives are muggles that hate magic. Do not say anything. I just have to get my stuff. Maybe let them know that I'll never come back." he said.
Narcissa looked at the dark glint in his eyes. "You had a rough childhood, Master?"
He stiffened before his eyes darkened completely. "It doesn't matter anymore."
Harry was contemplating saying more, but the door flew open to reveal Dudley. He glared at his younger cousin and started to slam the door in his face, but an invisible force crashed into the larger boy. Harry entered the place that had been his personal hell until he went to Hogwarts. Still, it almost hurt being here. He may have been able to swindle books from them, but that had seemed to make Vernon and Petunia much more volatile towards him. Nevertheless, he hurried to gather all that he owned, which was a meager amount in all honesty. But by the time he came back down, he witnessed the Black sisters with their wands aimed at the Dursleys, the latter cowering against a wall.
The light of madness tinted Bellatrix's eyes. A deep loathing filled Narcissa's gaze. He was only able to guess what happened. His uncle was a man that believed himself to be the biggest and best of them all. As such, Vernon Dursley had a propensity to talk a big game and insult those that could probably tear him down. With a shake of his head, he made his way downstairs.
"My Lord," started Bellatrix with a wicked smile. "Please let me hurt them."
Harry could only chuckle when the Dursleys turned to him with wide, fearful eyes. One of them had the sense to close the door, so there would be no witnesses.
"Master?" Narcissa sounded worried, though her hard gaze never left his relatives.
"What happened?" Harry asked.
Bellatrix answered before Narcissa could. "This muggle filth thought they could insult us with impunity."
"Well," he said, entering the sitting room proper. "That won't do, will it?"
"Y-You can't do magic outside that school, boy!" Vernon stammered, trying desperately to hoist a bravado that had hitherto become dust in the cosmos.
Harry raised an eye as a tangible swell of his energy began to choke the house. "The last time you said that, I believe my exact words were 'Try me.' Now you can insult me all you want, I'm used to it. But you will not insult my ladies."
Harry gently lowered the wand arms of Bellatrix and Narcissa. They gave no protest, since they were too busy staring at the young epicenter for the hurricane of mystical energy. By the gods, it was intoxicating. His eyes glowed a bright green, his pupils turning yellow as they started to look more like inkblots instead of perfect circles. He could only watch with twisted satisfaction as those who tormented him looked close to soiling themselves.
"Gaze upon the Abyss, and despair."
The inside of 4 Privet Drive was silent.
Harry's voice seemed to reverberate ominously within the very minds of those touched by his voice. All of a sudden there was a loud snap, not unlike the breaking of bones. The light of true madness shone in the depths of the Dursley's dark eyes, acting as a beacon. Dudley suddenly went rigid before letting out a scream of pure terror. Bellatrix cast a silencing charm. His pupils dilated as they took on a sickly yellowish-green hue. Vernon was next. The mustached man was silent for not but a few more moments before a chuckle erupted from his throat. The chuckle turned into giggles. The giggles became laughter. Soon, the laughter took on a raucous, booming volume. It wasn't any kind of genuine laughter, but the sound that came when the human mind bore witness to something it couldn't possibly hope to understand. Like his son, his pupils turned that putrid color. Saliva had begun to run down his chin. The madness hit Petunia finally; the horse-faced woman looked around at things only she could see and flinched violently. She began muttering nonsense, babbling and chittering madly. Her words made no sense to the two witches because her mouth produced no words. When her pupils changed color, another effect happened to the now insane family. Twisted crowns of jagged iron appeared on their heads, cementing them in the realm of madness.
"Bella," Harry said coldly. "Lift the spell."
She nodded and waved her wand once. All of a sudden the sounds of screaming and loud laughter rocked the house. Harry held him palm up the door. A portal of spiralling black mire came to life and he turned, walking through it. Bellatrix followed first, leaving Narcissa to look upon her master's work. Their minds were completely gone due to whatever spell he cast. She shuddered. A moment more, then she left 4 Privet Drive. To the world, the Dursleys were no more.
The Abyss had claimed them.