Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots, and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.
Acknowledgements: Thank you to my editor Athena Hope, as well as my betas 3CP, Fezzik, Luq707, Raven0900, Regress, Thanos, and Yoshi89 for their work on this story.
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Harry Potter and the Conjoining of Paragons
By ACI100
Chapter 29: Awareness
May 8, 1943
Albus Dumbledore's Office
8:00 PM
Weeks had passed since Harry's meeting with Arcturus. His duel with Riddle loomed closer each morning he woke, and now, it was but three short days away. Knots tightened inside his chest each morning he woke but so far, he had seen no such tension from Riddle. I shouldn't have shown so much in my last duel — she's seen my best and thinks she can beat it. It just made her more confident.
Harry had known for months this duel would come, but it had always been a clash between him and the girl who was to become Voldemort. Now he was less sure. If she was to become Voldemort, surely she would never have warned him? Voldemort was the evil he was used to facing — the evil he had beaten against all odds. Riddle was different — it was a different sort of challenge he felt much less prepared for.
Now it was no longer him against Voldemort with the fate of Britain on the line — it vwas him against Riddle. A friendship he cherished hung in the balance in place of the nation. Why does that make me more nervous? Those stakes are lower? How have I become so selfish?
"You look laboured," Dumbledore said once Harry entered his office, as though the professor was reading his thoughts.
"I haven't slept well this week, but I'll be fine."
"Is it your upcoming duel that has you so worried?" Harry's eyes widened and Dumbledore smiled. "Did you think the staff was unaware of Professor Merrythought's practices?"
"What do you think of them, sir? Some of the students have said that some professors don't like it."
"I support Professor Merrythought and think that her decision is wise. The idea of students unable to defend themselves with all that is going on makes me uneasy."
"So have the professors been keeping up with the duels or something?"
"Professor Slughorn certainly has been, but most have paid them little heed."
Harry had to suppress a smile as his mind conjured images of Slughorn brandishing the Sorting Hat at the other professors whilst trying to convince them to gamble on upcoming matches. It really didn't seem all that out of character.
"But you know I'm duelling Riddle on Monday?"
"You two serve as exceptions. Professor Merrythought has raved about the both of you, which is rare for her. Given how many of the other professors feel the same way about you both, there has been a degree of interest surrounding the pair of you specifically."
Harry tried to imagine the faculty of his own time gossiping about a pair of students. Stern Professor McGonagall would never be caught dead doing something so unprofessional, and Snape would probably rather drown himself in a potion than praise a pair of rising duellists. Professors Sprout and Flitwick might be the type, but Harry doubted they would have many companions.
"It is stressing me out a bit," Harry admitted, "but it's a bit of everything. The duel, the attacks, the war…"
"All perfectly reasonable things to worry over. I can only advise you to take one step at a time. Every day is different and new. With each, we put the past behind us and accept our future."
It was similar in a way to what Dumbledore had told Harry about the Mirror of Erised. This Dumbledore used different words, but they amounted to the same thing in the end.
"Do you have any advice about the duel, Professor?"
"About your duel against Miss Riddle? No, I think not. I have never watched her duel and can therefore offer you little."
Harry knew how Dumbledore felt about Riddle; he had seen it in his eyes the night Aragog had gotten loose. Harry considered his options. Did he dare push further? Dumbledore was honourable, but Harry had never known him to follow protocol to the letter. It was probably unprofessional for a professor to pick sides in matters such as these, but if Harry worded it carefully…
"What about a general duelling question, Professor? Would you feel comfortable answering that?"
"I am no duellist, Master Pavonis. I never officially competed and my experiences in the field are limited."
"And if I wanted to ask you anyway?"
Dumbledore's lips twitched. "I am an educator. I would have no reason not to answer a harmless question about something so relevant to life nowadays."
"How would you go about beating someone who's more skilled and more powerful than you are? Someone who knows more magic and has more weapons."
Dumbledore considered his question for a moment before answering. "I would concede those advantages and consider what facets of the duel may be in my favour. I would play to my strengths and, above all else, I would avoid engaging in an extended duel that looks at all conventional."
Harry frowned. "What do you mean by the last bit, Professor?"
"If your opponent has all the advantages you mentioned, trading spells back and forth would only lead to defeat."
"What if you varied your attacks and mixed in things like Transfiguration?"
"I suspect that would help. It is thinking along the right lines."
"And what are those lines, sir?"
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Do you not see them yet?"
Harry considered for a moment before, slowly, it dawned on him. "If you can't beat them in a straightforward duel, you have to add tricks and variables."
That fit well. His early wins against Charlus had come that way, and even things like feinting with false incantations were crafty little tricks that could get one ahead. Not that Harry expected party tricks like that to be enough against Riddle, but it gave him something to focus on.
He had heard once that problems were best solved in parts. They often looked daunting, but when broken down into individual pieces, they often became more manageable. This appeared to be one of those times. Defeating Riddle felt like scaling a mountain, but isolating her weaknesses felt only like ascending a steep hill.
"Exciting esoteric questions aside," Dumbledore said from across the desk, "I believe we'd best be getting to the topic at hand."
Harry snapped back to attention. "What are we covering today, sir?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "You are ahead of my original schedule, so I thought, given your current worries, we would focus on something more practical."
Harry felt his face split into an ear-to-ear grin, his fingers curled as if around his wand. Every little advantage he could get was welcome, and Harry planned to implement as many of them as possible in the next seventy-two hours.
May 11, 1943
The Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom
1:12 PM
Harry had never felt anything quite like the atmosphere present that Tuesday afternoon when he entered Professor Merrythought's class. It appeared that he was the last student to do so, which meant he earned the room's full and undivided attention. It felt like he was the Boy-Who-Lived all over again. Escaping the stares for the best part of a year had been a blessing. They had returned some after his duel against Cassie, but nothing like now.
His heart raced, but not from the stares. This feeling was familiar and he felt himself relax. It was how he felt before plunging after Quirrell, before entering the chamber, and before Hermione spun the time turner. I've always won when feeling like this.
Professor Merrythought was taking attendance, but Harry wouldn't have known that had he not been watching. It was like none of the sound around him registered, all blending together in a dull haze that left his mind muddled. He answered appropriately when she looked at him, surprised the single word came as easily as it did.
Harry glanced across the room. Riddle was a remarkable actress, but that was what gave her away. Her posture was always perfect, but today, it was a skillful imitation of perfect — just a touch too rigid. Riddle's eyes did not wander as freely as usual, either. They focused on everything, as though analyzing the field of battle.
It was a small victory. Just because Riddle took him seriously didn't mean she wasn't confident. Harry saw no signs of doubt, just focus. His heart fluttered again. A focused Riddle would not spend time toying with him like she had with others. That would have presented openings and played into his hands.
Harry watched the first pair step up to duel and tried to focus on them. There was no new angle from which he could examine his own conflict, so thinking about it was useless. The closest he got to taking his mind off his own duel was wondering for a moment in which order the duels would take place. It did not take long for him to realize how obvious that was. Professor Merrythought was more rigid and better at hiding it, but she was every bit as dramatic as Slughorn. There was no world in which Harry and Riddle's duel would not happen last.
Harry usually watched the other duels attentively, but today he found that they failed to hold his interest. They had no importance to him. This had evolved far beyond classroom duels for the sake of practice.
Harry could not have said which order the duels went, or who won each. All he knew was that something had changed. After weeks of wishing time would slow down so that this day would never come, now he wished the duel would just start.
His wish came quickly. Cassiopeia took her seat near Riddle, who was now looking straight at him. Had she not been, he likely would not have known their duel was next, but that fact and his instincts cued him.
Harry stood without instruction and moved towards his side of the classroom. His heart was still racing and his legs really were shaking now, but his mind felt calm. A peaceful air had fallen over him now that the duel had arrived. One way or another, there would be closure. I've never been good at waiting, but I've always been good at duelling.
Harry wasted no time in moving once she did, correctly guessing Riddle would go on the offensive. She had played defensively against the weakest of her opponents, but any time Riddle took a duel seriously, she attacked with a storm of magic so violent that none had yet stood against it.
Harry made no attempt to shield. Elena had often complained how useless they were against a stronger opponent and that was what he faced now. None of Riddle's opponents had been able to stand against her, and he would be no different.
Instead, he moved — moved unlike any of her opponents ever had.
The best of her opponents moved when necessary. Harry moved like the floor burned beneath her feet. He would not be an easy target. Every step was sporadic — if Riddle found a pattern, she would set traps. She'll find none.
Disaster nearly befell him several times. Harry was not used to fighting someone as fast as Riddle. The truth was, Harry just wasn't swift enough. Something in his shoulder shattered moments into the duel and that same forearm was opened with a well-placed Cutting Curse that Harry had moved right into. Riddle had given him little choice. The alternative would have been to be hit with something far fouler. She's cornering me — she's not going to let herself waste energy by firing spells at nothing. I need to change plans.
He lunged straight between two oncoming spells and lashed out with a volley of his own that Riddle shielded against. Harry fired off several Blasting Curses and prepared to follow up once Riddle's shield fell, but it held.
Harry's eyes widened. Never had a shield withstood so many of his spells. His eyes narrowed. This one was different, glowing with a faint, silvery light.
Riddle dropped the shield and attacked, forcing him on the back foot again. Harry fumed as he was quickly backed up towards the wall. Fighting her was like duelling three opponents at once. Soon, Harry would be overwhelmed. No, he had to stay on offence!
The students stood in a warded corner of the room, so Harry dove behind a row of abandoned desks and transfigured them into a wall of dark grey stone that stretched towards the ceiling. Harry knew it would be blown apart in seconds, but he was ready and banished the stones towards Riddle the second it happened, transfiguring half of them into a swarm of ravens and the other half into arrows as they all sailed towards her.
Harry used the projectiles to clear his own path forward. He lunged after them but felt a jolt run through him. Bloody hell! No one's ever taken control away from me.
It was power. Elena had once complained how ineffective she was against Harry at times simply due to how outmatched she was. All Harry had learned taught him that, in most aspects, being more magically powerful wasn't actually all that useful. There were very few spells that relied on such factors and usually, it only came into play when dealing with large-scale transfigurations.
Or something like this.
Riddle had exerted her will over his creations. It's probably the same reason I couldn't break her shield.
Harry conjured another wall of stone, but Riddle seemed to have expected that. She blasted it apart more violently this time, sending Harry sprawling. He avoided her follow-up volley by inches before scrambling to his feet.
The duel paused just long enough for Riddle to smile. Damn you! It won't be that easy!
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
Riddle paused at Harry's incantation. It was clever. She must have expected Harry to pull a trick similar to the one he had used against Charlus — speaking one incantation but using another silently.
The familiar stag burst from Harry's wand and galloped towards Riddle, who stumbled. Finally, she looks unsure.
Harry waited until the last second before flaring the Patronus, causing it to glow so brightly that Riddle must surely be blinded.
That was when he attacked, lunging forward and unleashing a torrent of spells. Riddle's eyes were closed against the vivid light and Harry's heart leapt. This would be the moment she fell.
His mouth fell open. Riddle deflected his spells with her eyes closed. Harry's mind worked at top speed and could come only to one conclusion. She must be able to sense magic like him, but at a higher level. Her defence had not been perfect — a Bludgeoning Curse and a Cutting Curse had gotten through.
Riddle's snarled against the pain, slashing her wand with a feral look in her eye. Harry shielded just as something silver left her wand.
BANG!
Spasms shivered up his spine as he gasped for breath. His ears rang and white spots danced before his eyes. Merlin, what would that spell have done had I not shielded?
He rolled, avoiding several more spells as he roughly took to his feet. His ears rang so loudly it was like someone whaled inside his head. The room spun around him as the desks blurred and the light looked all of a sudden much too bright.
Harry snarled. He had so many tricks planned, but Riddle had just been too much. I never had a chance.
Hatred coursed through him. He hated her! There was no one he hated more than her! He was furious, frustrated, and hated… himself.
It was a crushing blow. His hatred for Riddle was gone. When it had vanished, he knew not, but it was gone. Voldemort had taken his parents from him, but Harry had lost his friendship with Dorea. Had he been better, this would never have happened.
Fuck this — fuck all of this!
Harry lashed out just as he saw Riddle's wand move. Their two spells collided in midair and a shower of golden sparks shot up towards the ceiling. Golden light filled the room, shining as brightly as Harry's Patronus and forcing him to blink spots from his eyes. He expected Riddle to disarm him in that time, but she didn't.
Riddle's wand was occupied, as was his own. There was a brilliant ray of golden light connecting Harry's wand to Riddle's as similar rays sprung up around them, encasing them in a dome of what Harry could only describe as magic. There was a soft ambiance that sang through the room, reminding Harry of the one and only time he'd heard a phoenix sing. It filled him to the brim with fiery determination that he remembered feeling when facing a different version of Riddle down in the Chamber of Secrets.
Smaller beads of the same golden light had formed on the ray that connected Harry's wand with Riddle's, but Harry looked past them and to the girl that stood directly across from him. Her skin looked even paler in the golden light. Her eyes stood out more starkly and were wide. Gone was the calculating air in them, gone was the quiet confidence, gone was the amusement, gone even was the anger that had been there in the duel's final moments. Harry saw fear in Riddle's eyes for the first time ever and that, more than anything else that day, drove him onwards.
The beads slowly began to slide down the connected ray of light, inching closer to Riddle's wand. Harry noticed that hers began shaking whilst his remained stable, but there was a force pushing against him and he somehow knew the two of them were locked in some kind of battle. It was like their very wills had been pit against each other's. She won't win! I care too much!
Riddle pushed and pushed, but Harry would not lose. She was stronger and more skilled, but she did not know his past. She'll never know how much this means to me. Riddle's composure cracked. Her lips parted and she slammed her eyes shut.
Her wand screamed when touched by a bead of golden light. Panes of glass trembled as the wale echoed through the room. It was like the whole castle would come crashing down.
Inane thoughts left him, replaced by overwhelming awareness. Silver wisps began rising from Riddle's wand and with each one, a new incantation whispered inside Harry's mind as the spell's effects played like a muggle film behind his eyes. It was Harry's turn now to smile at Riddle, who stood frozen on the other side of the room, looking for all the world as though she had seen a ghost.
Harry sensed his moment and pulled upwards with all his might. There was a heartbeat of resistance, but then, the connection shattered. The dome of light surrounding the pair of them faded all at once. The classroom suddenly looked dim without the vibrant golden light, but Harry's focus was not on that, but Riddle, who staggered so violently she nearly fell. He would never have another chance like this.
"AERIA IMPULSUM!"
BANG!
The floor slammed into his back again. Where did that incantation come from? Why did I use a spell I didn't know? Fuck, it must have backfired. Something hot nudged his hand. It burned and he jolted, vision clearing. It was a wand — darker and longer than his own.
His heart froze as he raised his eyes.
Riddle no longer stood across from him. She laid upon the floor, her chest rising and falling, dark hair splayed across her forehead.
Harry looked from Riddle to the smoking wand lying inches from his hand. He looked up again, but the room was fading. What just happened?
Author's Endnote:
I apologize for the lateness of this chapter's arrival. I am still on vacation and, lately, the spots I've been staying haven't boasted much signal to speak of. This is also being edited at a random cafe in the middle of nowhere, so the edit will be hasty and probably not the best. I apologize in advance for the roughness of the prose — this chapter deserves a bit more work than I can put in right now, so I'll probably touch it up when I return home.
1I will return home some time around the 7th of August — things will return to normal from that point onwards.
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