LoDK
The Legacy of the Dark Knight Saga
Jamie Prosser and the Fourth Champion
Chapter 16: The Prophecy Fullfilled
Disclaimer: This is solely a not-for-profit fan activity and does not intend to infringe on copyrights held by Time Warner, DC Comics, Bloomsbury et al, and JK Rowling. Any characters who are original to this work remain the property of the author.
A/N: This story diverges significantly from accepted canon for the Harry Potter series from the outset, as in addition to the crossover elements, there are several deviations from the books that will be covered where they fit into the narrative. The timeline of the DC Comics elements borrows heavily from Young Justice (2011), but adds elements and characters from the comics, and relocates the series to the late Sixties and early Seventies rather than the New Tens as screened and is heavy on 'legacy' and original characters as a result.
A/N: Unless stated otherwise, the action of this story takes place in the run up to and during the 1997-1998 school year (305 "Anno Secreto" or "Year of Secrecy") parallel to the events of Deathly Hallows in canon. The year code "AL" is also my own invention and stands for After Liberation, counting the years after the Justice League's ending of the "Apokolips War", my as-yet unwritten take on the events of Young Justice Season 3 (Set late 1973 to April 1976).
A/N: This chapter has not been beta'd
Somewhere,
Unknown.
Harry lay face down, listening to the silence…
Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!
The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Horrified, Harry watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.
And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs.
Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master."
He stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward.
Harry realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened - he closed his eyes as tightly as he could, but he could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through Harry as though he had been stabbed with the dagger too. He heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormtail's anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron. Harry couldn't stand to look ... but the potion had turned a burning red; the light of it shone through Harry's closed eyelids...
Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. Not until Harry felt Wormtail's anguished breath on his face did he realize that Wormtail was right in front of him.
B-blood of the enemy ... forcibly taken... you will... resurrect your foe!"
He was perfectly alone.
Lord Voldemort had risen again.
Voldemort looked away from Harry and began examining his own body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cat's, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant. He took not the slightest notice of Wormtail, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which had slithered back into sight and was circling Harry again, hissing. Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry was tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. Voldemort turned his scarlet eyes upon Harry, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.
Nobody was watching. Nobody else was there. He was not perfectly sure that he was there himself. A long time later, or maybe no time at all, it came to him that he must exist, must be more than disembodied thought, because he was lying - definitely lying - on some surface. Therefore, he had a sense of a touch, and the thing against which he lay existed too.
The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward ... slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them. Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort and kissed the hem of his black robes.
Almost as soon as he had reached this conclusion, Harry became conscious that he was naked. Convinced as he was of his total solitude, this did not concern him, but it did intrigue him slightly. He wondered whether, as he could feel, he would be able to see. In opening them, he discovered that he had eyes. He lay in a bright mist, though it was not like mist he had ever experienced before. His surroundings were not hidden by cloudy vapour; rather the cloudy vapour had not yet formed into surroundings. The floor on which he lay seemed to be white, neither warm nor cold, but simply there, a flat, blank something on which to be.
He sat up. His body appeared unscathed. He touched his face. He was not wearing his glasses anymore. Then a noise reached him through the unformed nothingness that surrounded him: the small, soft thumpings of something that flapped, flailed and struggled. It was a pitiful noise, yet also slightly indecent. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he was eavesdropping on something furtive, shameful.
For the first time, he wished he were clothed.
Barely had the wish formed in his head than his Harry Potter uniform manifested on him. Now feeling more secure, he stood up, looking around. The longer he looked, the more there was to see. All was hushed and still, except for those odd thumping and whimpering noises coming from somewhere close by in the mist ... Harry turned slowly on the spot, and his surroundings seemed to invent themselves before his eyes. A wide-open space, bright and clean. Two large tunnels and a bank of computer monitors dominated the wall space, and a large wooden table sat in the centre of the room.
How did I get to the Watchtower, unless…? The rest of his thought was cut off as he spotted the only other thing in sight the cavernous room. The 'thing' that was making the noises. He recoiled. It had the form of a small, naked child, curled on the ground, its skin raw and rough, flayed-looking, and it lay shuddering under a seat where it had been left, unwanted, stuffed out of sight, struggling for breath. He was afraid of it. Small and fragile and wounded though it was, he did not want to approach it. Nevertheless, he drew slowly nearer, ready to jump back at any moment. Soon, he stood near enough to touch it, yet he could not bring himself to do it. He felt like a coward. He ought to comfort it, but it repulsed him.
"You cannot help."
Harry spun round. His arm shield snapping into place on his left arm and his right sought the baton at his waist. But he lowered both as he thought he recognized the chalk-skinned winged man that was floating down from the rafters to join him. "Zauriel?"
The divine ambassador nodded, landing a few steps away from Harry and furling his wings.
"Am I dead?"
"I am the greatest sorcerer whoever lived!" bellowed Voldemort. "And I will prove my power by killing you, here and now… when there is no Dumbledore to help you, and no mother to die for you. I will give you your chance, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger. Just a little longer, Nagini," he whispered, and the snake glided away through the grass to where the Death Eaters stood watching. "Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."
"First," said Harry. "You're not the greatest sorcerer who ever lived, or even
currently living. A second…" he paused for effect. "I don't need any help from that traitor. Em esaeler
The ropes dropped away from Harry. "Etativel."
After a moment, Harry rose to his feet and then continued rising until he was above the heads the assembled Death Eaters. "Take your best shot," he said with a grin.
"As you wish… Avada Kedavra!"
"Not entirely, Harry Potter," Zauriel replied.
"Not entirely?" repeated Harry. "So, mostly?"
"That, remains to be seen."
The second answer, Harry reflected, didn't answer a great deal than the first, which was admittedly consistent with some of Constantine's rantings on the subject of getting answers from angels.
"But ..." Harry raised his hand instinctively towards the lightning scar. It did not seem to be there. "But… I should have died… I didn't defend myself… I meant to let him kill me!"
"And that, Harry Potter…" said Zauriel, "Made all the difference."
"I still don't understand…" said Harry.
"But you already know," said Zauriel, enigmatically.
"I let him kill me," said Harry. "… Didn't I?"
"You did," said Zauriel, nodding slightly. "Go on!"
"So, the part of his soul that was in me ..."
Zauriel nodded still more enthusiastically, urging Harry onwards. Harry even thought he could see the beginnings of smile of encouragement on his face.
"... has gone?"
"Indeed," confirmed Zauriel. "Your soul is whole, and completely your own, Harry Potter."
"But then..." Harry glanced over his shoulder, to where the small, maimed creature trembled. "What is that, Zauriel?"
"Something that is beyond all help," said Zauriel.
"But if Voldemort used the Killing Curse…" Harry started again, "and nobody died for me this time… How can I be alive?"
"You know the answer to that already, Harry Potter," said Zauriel. "Think back. Remember what he did. In his ignorance, in his greed, and his cruelty…"
Harry thought. He let his gaze drift over his surroundings. It was strange to see the Watchtower so empty, normally on the rare occasions that he travelled up there it would be bustling with activity… but he and the angel and the stunted creature were the only beings there. Then the answer rose to his lips easily, without effort. "He took my blood," said Harry.
"Indeed," said Zauriel. "He took your blood and rebuilt his living body with it… Your blood in his veins, Harry, Lily Potter's protection is inside both of you…. He tethered you to life while he lives."
"I live ... while he lives?" Harry asked, briefly wondering what the implications of that for the rest of their plan were. Then, he was distracted by the whimpering and thumping of the agonised creature behind them and glanced back at it yet again. "Are you sure we can't do anything?"
"There is no help possible."
"Can you explain ... more?" asked Harry.
Zauriel nodded, the slight smile back on his face. "As you and the Constantine suspected, you were the Seventh Horcrux, Harry Potter. The horcrux Tom Riddle never meant to make."
"How does that work?" Harry asked. "Constantine wouldn't tell me the details, but I got the feeling that making horcruxes isn't something that you can do 'accidently."
Zauriel nodded, "Normally, you would be correct. However, Tom Riddle had rendered his soul so unstable by his previous rituals that it broke apart when he committed those acts of unspeakable evil… the murder of your parents and even more so the attempted killing of a child. But what escaped from that room was even less than he knew. He left more than his body behind. He left part of himself latched to you, the would-be victim who had survived… And his knowledge remained woefully incomplete. That which Voldemort does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend. Love, loyalty and innocence, Voldemort knows and understands no of these. That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never grasped. He took your blood believing it would strengthen him. He took into his body a tiny part of the enchantment your mother laid upon you when she died for you. His body keeps her sacrifice alive, and while that enchantment survives, so do you and so does Voldemort's one last hope for himself."
"So what do I do now?" asked Harry. "Can Voldemort be destroyed?"
"His horcruxes are destroyed," replied Zauriel. "He is mortal now, but still a threat nonetheless. If you choose to return, he may be finished forever."
"But you can't promise it?"
"I cannot," confirmed the angel. "That knowledge is given only to Destiny… But I know this, Harry, that you have less to fear from returning here than he does. Your place is assured."
Harry glanced again at the raw-looking thing that trembled and choked in the shadows.
"Do not pity the dead, Harry Potter. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love. By returning, you may ensure that fewer souls are maimed, fewer families are torn apart."
Harry nodded and sighed. "Will you tell me one last thing?" said Harry as they walked towards the Zeta Tubes, which Harry assumed would 'trigger' his return to the normal world.
"If that knowledge is mine to give."
"Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"
This time he was sure of it. Zauriel really had smiled. It was only a small one, but it was a smile nonetheless. Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry," he replied as the Zeta Tube's blue light washed over him. "But why should that mean that it is not real?"
"Recognised, Squire B132," declared the computer and whisked him away.
Little Hangleton Graveyard,
Gloucester, GL3.
22nd November, 1410 GMT.
Harry barely restrained a groan as he returned to consciousness. "Maet eht Ot Em Knil," he whispered. *Bijali, Darkclaw, Kid… status report.*
Malfoy and Wormtail are secure. I've also taken down a dozen more Death Eaters.*
Good job, Bijali.*
Harry was about to turn his attention to Eddie when he heard a familiar scream. *Snare are you okay?*
Snare is down* reported Maz. *I'm on it.*
*Darkclaw?*
*Give me a second,* replied Darkclaw.
While he was waiting, Harry spotted the tell-tale flash of Maz entering and then leaving the graveyard, presumably with Snare in hand.
Sorry about that, had to finish dealing with MacNair… Only you and Snare have taken significant hits. The perimeter is secure, most of the Death Eaters are down or engaged.*
Understood* said Harry. *Kid Martian?*
Nagini has been neutralised… Little Mermaid and Typhoon have Voldemort contained for now.*
A quick glance around the graveyard showed the two Atlanteans had Voldemort imprisoned in a massive sphere of water. That should keep him under wraps for a minute or two, Harry agreed. *Are there any Death Eaters looking in my direction?*
*Negative*
*Then I'm on the move!* Harry declared. "Edom Htlaets!"
Within seconds, his Tournament robes were exchanged for his grey and black stealth uniform and then his Invisibility Cloak manifested and hid him from view.
Now invisible, he scanned the area for any targets of opportunity. His first available target was a pair of Death Eaters that were trying to sneak up behind Tonks, who was locked in battle with a third Death Eater, probably Avery based on his build and accent. Harry reached around to the back of his belt and dropped two birdarangs into his hands. After a quick glance around to make sure no-one was looking in his direction, he flung the weapons towards the two wizards, who were snared in twin bolos and fell down with a grown.
"What?!" exclaimed Tonks, turning around as she heard the groans.
Kid, tell Tonks to keep her head in the game!* Harry ordered K'oll over the telepathic link, then prepped a third Wing Ding.
Will do* agreed K'oll.
Harry released the Wing Ding and it flew towards the third Death Eater, enveloping him briefly in a net of electricity and knocking him unconscious just as he was about to hex Tonks from behind.
The threat neutralised, Harry glanced around again and noticed that the water sphere around Voldemort was imprisoned in was beginning to heat up and shed steam quickly. I may have been a little overly optimistic there. But that's okay… *Bijali, what's your status?*
Snare's back on the Bio-Ship, what do you need?*
I don't think that Little Mermaid and Typhoon can hold Voldemort for much longer…* Harry replied, the lack of a reply from the two Atlanteans confirming his concern. *I want you in position for Maneuver Twenty-Five on my mark…*
Got it* confirmed the speedster, and Harry spotted another tell-tale flash of golden light. *Just say the word.*
Little Mermaid, Typhoon, when I give the signal… drop the water sphere and get clear.*
Understood.* echoed the pair.
Harry analysed the sphere, whatever he did, it would only last a few minutes more at best… *Bijali?*
*Ready.*
Now!*
The water sphere split in half, dumping most of the water on the ground and allowing a fiery serpent to burst forth. But before Voldemort was able to target any of them with it, Bijali sped forward and quickly encased him on a pillar of golden lightning. Still wrapped in his Invisibility Cloak, Harry moved quickly towards his nemesis' position. After about fifteen seconds, the pillar broke and Maz reappeared, hurling a massive bundle of lightning bolts at Voldemort before speeding up again and snatching up the two Atlanteans to get them clear of the area.
The lightning hit Voldemort straight in the chest a split second after launching, causing him to fly backwards and smash against one of the trees ringing the graveyard. He dropped to his knees for a moment, his dragon spell dissipating at the same. Then rose to his feet, clearly attempting to put on a strong front, but certainly weakened - hopefully badly - by the attacks. "Is that… all?" he hissed. "Pathetic!"
"Don't worry," said Harry, speaking aloud for the first time since his 'death'. "We're just getting started."
"Potter, how?!" exclaimed Voldemort, raising his wand and unleashed a hail of increasingly pale, weak spells, none of which came anywhere near their target. "I killed you!"
Harry couldn't help giggling at this. Which gave Voldemort a slightly better target and he managed to hit him with a stream of purplish-red light. His body armour took the most of impact, but he was still pushed back slightly. "Repeating the same behaviours and expecting a different result… that's the first sign of madness!" he shouted, throwing his cloak aside with one arm, and then throwing a very special birdarang at Voldemort with the other.
Voldemort cast a quick spell, either blue or blue-green at the weapon, but it merely flared electric-blue briefly and continued on until it buried itself in the shoulder of Voldemort's wand arm. He cried out in pain and dropped his wand, which Harry quickly called to him with a similar spell to the one he'd used on his Nimbus a little earlier.
Voldemort waved his hand in his arc, paused, then repeated it. "How… what?!"
"Having 'performance issues', are we?" asked Harry impishly.
"What have you done?!" demanded Voldemort, but with far less force this time.
"Constantine and I couldn't be sure when you were planning to make your move, we couldn't even be sure that what you planned involved me…" Harry told him. "But once we knew that it did, and that some sort of ritual was involved, it wasn't difficult to guess that my blood would be involved."
A questioning frown briefly showed on Voldemort's face, but Harry picked up on it. "Which we've known for five months now, since I had a vision of you and Wormtail discussing it in the manor house up the road… your muggle father's old place I believe…?"
"You dare!"
"I do," Harry confirmed. "So, I poisoned myself."
This time the smile was far more obvious, "Then you'll die too, and I will return more powerful than ever!" declared Voldemort with a laugh.
"Wrong."
"But you said…?"
"That I poisoned myself?" repeated Harry. "I did. With tiny amounts of moly, in gradually increasing doses over time. It's not lethal, ordinarily… But I do have to be careful how much magic I use, because moly interferes with it. Particularly transfiguration. Fortunately, I'm more of a charms man myself. But when your ritual multiplied my blood, the moly was also multiplied. Meaning…"
He trailed off there, but Voldemort wasn't left in the dark long, as he felt his wand arm hardening, he tried to move it, but within seconds he couldn't and then the effect spread to his hand, turning it to stone. "Well played, Harry…" Voldemort admitted. As he felt the petrification effect spreading across the rest of his new body. "But not quite good enough."
To his surprise, Harry, rather than being disturbed by this, actually smiled.
"If you're counting on your horcruxes to save you…"
Voldemort's smile faltered at this, the loss of Nagini had been a shock, but that must have a lucky coincidence…
"I'm sorry to say…" Harry told him, while not looking sorry in the slightest. "That they're all gone."
"All of them…?"
"All of them." Harry confirmed. "The Diary, the Ring, the Locket, the Cup, the Diadem… poor, tragic Nagini – yes I do know her true story – and even the tiny bit in my scar… which is why I came back after your second Killing Curse."
"NO!" bellowed Voldemort. "IT'S N-ot… poss…. i… ble!"
"This time," said Harry, as the contamination reached Voldemort's head and face and he started to crumble. "You're not coming back."
Within seconds, the deterioration was complete, and the only things left of the 'greatest dark lord who ever lived' was a pile of robes covered in dust.
As soon as he was satisfied that the process was complete, Harry turned and began to walk back towards where his broom and the Portkey-egg had been dropped. As he walked, the Bio-Ship came back into view and settled on the closest patch of open ground. The rear hatch opened and K'oll exited to join him. A moment later, Tonks, her two colleagues and the rest of Alpha joined them, dragging or carrying several unconscious prisoners.
"A good afternoon's work, I think," offered Eddie, carrying one Death Eater in a fireman's carry and another under his free arm. "Did we get them all?"
"I think so," replied Tonks. "Did anyone get a headcount when they arrived?"
"I counted twenty-three apparition signatures," offered Cedric.
"I believe there were twenty-nine arrivals after ours," said Cole, disguised in his Weasley-esque human form.
Harry nodded, "I agree."
"Then we have them all," confirmed Cole.
"Excellent," said Harry. "Good work, everyone. Tonks, can you handle that many?"
"Not with only the three of us, but now I have proof, even Dawlish should be willing to cooperate."
"Good," said Harry. "Cole, how's Amanda?"
The Martian shook his head. "She's alive, but barely."
"Get her back to the Centre for medical treatment," Harry ordered.
"I'm on it," said Cole and headed back towards the ramp. "Did you want me to call for transport?"
"I'll be taking the Portkey back to Hogwarts," Harry replied. "But I'd like the rest of Alpha to remain on station until Tonks' back arrives?"
"We can do that," confirmed Eddie, then he turned to Cole. "Can you contact MOD St Athan and have them send over a helijet?"
"I'll do it as soon as I'm airborne," Cole assured him, then headed up the ramp, which closed behind him. Seconds later, the Bio-Ship floated off the ground and then banked into an easterly course and cloaked.
Satisfied that everything was under control, Harry picked up his broom and the Golden Egg and disappeared in a blue light.