AN: Here's a question for you guys, do you want me to reveal the eventually pairing for Harry? I mean, it's not really going to be a factor until part 2, but do you want to know in advance? Also, this fic can also be found on AO3 if that's your preferred reading platform, both the fic and I have the same name over there.

Chapter 3: Heart to Heart to Arc Reactor

12:30, Terrorist Base, Afghanistan, 1st May 2009

The sounds of gunfire, explosions, and screams got gradually closer as the progress bar on the computer ticked up. 48%... 49%... 50%...

"We need more time…" Ho Yinsen muttered under his breath before turning to face Tony Stark, who was currently strapped into the monstrosity of a suit the pair had been building for the past three months. "I'm going to go buy you some time." He ran towards the hole in the wall where the door used to be, Tony's shouts to come back echoing behind him.

He stooped to pick up a gun and froze when he righted himself. Two terrorists stood right in front of him, training their weapons on him. One of them shouted at him in a language he didn't understand, but before he could attempt to reply the terrorists whirled around at the sound of an explosion behind them. They turned just in time to see the corpse of one of their fellow terrorists flying through the air with half his torso blown off.

A figure walked in at a leisurely pace. He was dressed in a white bodysuit that was covered with gold-thread symbols, over which he wore greaves, bracers, and a lorica segmentata, all made of gold, and a silver sword in a golden scabbard on his left hip. Completing the ensemble was a white robe which was fastened on his left shoulder by a golden talisman which took the form of a circle, bisected by a line, and inscribed in an equilateral triangle. The robe's large sleeves completely hid the man's arms, and its hood was pulled up over his head, which was hidden by the mirky green mist swirling within.

The most startling feature of the man, though, was the two huge silvery metal wings sticking out of his back. They were made of hundreds of individual metal feathers of varying sizes, all arranged in their places like on the wings of an eagle.

The man turned and looked at the three men before him, all of whom were much too shocked to react. Without warning the man's wings shot out and speared the two terrorists through their chests, shredding their hearts and killing them instantly. Ho jumped back in surprise and levelled his own gun at the mysterious figure, who raised his arms in a peaceful gesture.

"Peace, Mr Yinsen, I mean you no harm. I trust Mr Stark is nearly ready to go?" As he spoke, he pulled his wings back to their previous position, dropping the terrorist corpses onto the floor with a squelch.

Before Yinsen could even attempt to rally himself and give a reply, heavy thumping signalled the approach of Tony Stark in his suit. "Yinsen!" He called when he spotted the shocked scientist. "What were you think- who are you!?"

The tone of the winged man's voice as he replied suggested he was amused. "I'm a friend, or at least an ally. I'm here to help you escape this awful cave, but if I had known you were going to attempt this…" the figure gestured towards Tony's suit "…I would've sat back and enjoyed the show." Shouting from elsewhere in the base forestalled any response from Stark. "Right, seems we have company. Yinsen, stay behind me and Tin Man here. Stark, let's mess this place up."

They started walking as Stark replied. "Tin Man! That makes you who what, Cowardly Lion or Scarecrow?"

The figure laughed. "My dear Mr Stark, I'm quite clearly Dorothy."

-HPaDD- -HPaDD- -HPaDD-

Tony Stark, whose suit had long since broken down, and Ho Yinsen trudged through the desert, protected from the sun only by their companion's wings. Said companion still hadn't identified himself; all they really knew of him was that he was incredibly deadly.

Yinsen had spent most of the fight in the cave hiding behind the other two, only shooting one man, Raza, who had hidden and attempted to shoot Tony in the back with an RPG. Tony killed many of the terrorists and was responsible for almost all of the damage to the base via his flamethrower. But when it came to kill count Tony didn't even come close to the other man.

The robed man was both fearless and utterly ruthless. He would stroll forward entirely unconcerned, wings extended in front of him deflecting bullets until he was in the midst of the terrorists, then he would strike like a coiled serpent. In a matter of moments, the group would be reduced to nothing but a pile of corpses, some dismembered, others gutted, the odd one beheaded, but all dead.

When he couldn't be bothered to close with the terrorists, feathers would shoot out of his wings and seriously wound if not kill their victims. Eyes, throats, and hearts (and one lucky shot to the crotch) seemed to be favourite targets of his. Then with a wave of the figure's hand, the feathers would go flying back to their place, shedding all the blood, grime, and assorted flesh as they flew.

Every so often he would shoot light out of his hands and cause an enemy to explode, or be lacerated, or once even fly up into the ceiling and crack their skull open. The kill that scared them the most, though, was when the figure drew his sword and walked slowly up to a cowering figure Tony recognised as Abu Bakaar, and after a moment of thought, cut a line on his cheek so shallow it barely made him bleed. Tony and Yinsen watched horrified as Bakaar died screaming and clawing at his own skin as he dissolved from the inside out. The robed man just sheathed his sword and continued the grim march through the base.

Once they had escaped the base, and Tony had torched all of the stored weapons there, they set out for home. Tony tried flying ahead with his suit, but only got about a mile before it gave out and he crashed. Once the others caught up with him, they began their long walk through the desert, shaded by the mystery man's wings.

"If you like…" Tony said as he tried not to trip on the slipping sand "…you can come and work for me. Start a new life in the states."

Yinsen laughed in response. "What kind of work could I do for a weapons company?"

"I didn't say work for Stark Industries. I said work for me. Having a personal doctor on call doesn't sound like a bad idea, especially considering my current condition." Stark gestured to his reactor to emphasize his point. "Besides, Stark Industries won't be a weapons company much longer."

"Oh, and why's that?"

"I've decided to pull Stark Industries out of the weapons market." Tony paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "I've seen young Americans killed by the weapons I designed to protect them. I've seen the devastation my creations have wrought, and I've come to realize I have more to offer the world than things that go boom." He gestured to his reactor again to emphasise the point; Yinsen nodded in understanding, he had been there for most of Tony's ordeal, after all.

The robed figure chuckled in amusement. "You're a fool, Stark."

"Excuse me!"

"You're excused."

"Wait wait wait…." Tony grabbed the man's shoulder, bringing them both to a standstill. Yinsen stopped also to look at them in confusion. "What do you mean, I'm a fool?"

"Yinsen, hand me one of your shoes." The figure said without turning away from Tony.

"My shoes? Why-"

"Just give me one." The man stretched out his arm and retracted his wings, making both his companions flinch at the sudden brightness. After a moment Yinsen managed to wrestle one of his shoes off and put it in the figure's hand, who then chucked it straight at Stark without pause.

"Hey! What was that for?" Tony shouted, rubbing the shoulder the shoe had hit.

"Oh, so it's my fault you were hurt by the shoe?"

"Of course it is!"

"And here I am thinking you should be blaming the cobbler who made such sturdy footwear."

"What? Why would you- That's ridiculous! Those are totally incomparable!"

"Is it? You yourself said those weapons were designed to protect American lives. How is your fault someone misuses your product, but not the fault of a shoemaker when I throw a shoe at you? Or a blacksmith when someone uses a kitchen knife to stab someone else to death?" Yinsen, who had knelt down to put his shoe back on, stopped to look up and contemplate what was being said.

"Those are different things! Shoes and kitchen knives are a far sight from off from weapons of war!"

"And? You are not responsible for how anyone corrupts your product, just as the pharmacist can't be blamed when someone uses one of his drugs to overdose, or poison someone else."

"I've done a great deal more harm than any blacksmith, cobbler, or pharmacist." Tony turned away and began walking again.

"You've done a great deal more good, too."

"What?" Tony turned to look at him like he was crazy; well, he looked into the swirling fog right where the man's face should be.

"Your company is the primary supplier of Israel's upcoming Iron Dome, right?" Tony nodded reluctantly. "How many lives will that save?" Tony mumbled something under his breath. "How many of the helicopters you've made are used by emergency services like search and rescue and air ambulances? How many of your guns have people used to stop themselves from being robbed, beaten, raped, or even killed? How many people in the democracies of the world can sleep soundly because Stark weapons stand ready to defend their homes from tyranny? How many-"

"Alright!" Tony shouted, exasperated, "You've made your point, but I can't just pretend this never happened and go on as if all is hunky dory!"

"Then don't." The man shrugged. "But there's no need to do away with all the good just to remove the bad."

Once again Tony turned swiftly to face the man. "Then what would you suggest?"

"Making it harder, or even impossible, for less trustworthy forces to get a hold of your gear would be a good start. Simple tracking devices and remote diffusers, or even detonators, should do that right?" Tony nodded, a look of understanding appearing on his face. "How about prioritizing more defensive weapons like Iron Dome? Imagine if your tech could make offensive war so difficult and defensive war so easy that international conflict just died out. If you're super cautious, you could even keep your more destructive pieces off the market entirely and just save them up for an emergency."

"Why should he need to develop such weapons at all?" Asked Yinsen, who seemed receptive to most, if not all, of what was being said.

"The Romans had a saying, "Let those who want peace, prepare for war". Nobody knows what the future will bring, but it may very well bring a situation where a Jerico missile, or something even more powerful, would be very useful. It's better to have such things and not need them than need them and not have them. After all, it's undeniable Stark here has a flair for weapons, both offensive and defensive. It would be a shame to let that go to waste."

A few heartbeats passed in silence before Tony spoke. "Dammit Dorothy, you're right. I was… I wasn't thinking."

The man re-extended his wings, giving the other two shade again, as he laughed. "Of course, that doesn't mean you can't expand into other fields. After all…" the man tapped the reactor on Tony's chest "… technology like that could do a lot of good for the world."

Yinsen nodded in agreement while Tony looked thoughtful. They started walking again, this time in contemplative silence, but it wasn't long until the thrum of helicopters broke the silence. Yinsen and Tony ran up the nearest dune and began jumping and shouting, trying to wave down the choppers.

When they were sure they had been spotted, Tony turned to thank the mysterious figure for talking sense into him, only to see he had disappeared.

23:07, Stark Tower, New York City, 21st January 2011

Tony and Pepper collapsed back onto the sofa as they exited the pensive memory; both were looking paler, and Pepper looked distinctly green around the gills. Harry, who unlike Tony was still in his armour, seemed slightly amused by their reactions.

"Well, that was certainly an experience. I don't remember it being that… messy" Tony said. "And it's nice to know that I'm not crazy, all those things really did happen."

"W-why did you kill that man in such a horrible way?" Pepper asked, looking at Harry with slightly frightened eyes.

"You mean with this?" Harry asked as he put his hand on the pommel of his sword, to which Pepper nodded. "His name was Abu Bakaar, and he most certainly deserved even worse than he got. He was Raza's right-hand man, and a right sadistic git; to top it off, he was also a serial rapist, so, you know, I don't exactly lose sleep over what I did to him."

Pepper seemed relieved at that answer, but Tony spoke up before she could speak again. "Where'd your wings go? For that matter, how did you pull off all the light show? How did you even know where to find me? And where the hell does all this furniture keep coming from?"

Harry stood up from the armchair he had conjured and smiled. "The wings didn't go anywhere…" as he spoke the two metal wings shot out of his back and extended to their full breadth, a respectable seven meters tip-to-tip, "…as to your other questions, the answer is magic."

After the momentary shock wore off, Tony scoffed. "Magic? Please, you expect me to believe that?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, I am a wizard. Believe what you will." Harry's wand appeared in his hand as his wings shrunk back and he sat down. With a flick of his wrist, one of the throw cushions between Tony and Pepper floated up to hover over the coffee table. Then, ignoring the soft gasp from Pepper, another flick of his wand turned the pillow into a pumpkin, then a plate, then a model biplane, before finally settling as a rather derpy Persian kitten, which he floated gently into a startled Pepper's lap; she began to coo over the little cat.

"That proves nothing… all I see is matter to energy to matter conversion technology. Impressive? Yes. Magic? No." Stated Tony, sounding slightly unsure.

Harry arched an eyebrow and gestured to Pepper, who was cradling the kitten in her arms like a baby. "Then how do you explain the levitation?"

"Uhm… Quantum field manipulation?"

Harry laughed and pointed to the marble bowl still sitting on the coffee table between them. "And the pensieve?"

Tony frowned. "Ok, you've got me there. I don't have a clue what kind of tech could do that, but I still don't believe it's magic."

Harry waved his hand and the kitten turned back into a pillow, causing Pepper to pout. "Well, now that Miss Potts is caught up, and you both know how the pensive works, we can finally get down to business. After I've said my piece, you can decide for yourself if I'm telling the truth." Tony and Pepper both seemed agreeable, so Harry continued. "Before we begin, I'm going to need you both to sign this." Harry pulled some parchment from inside his robes and put it on the table.

"What's this, a non-disclosure agreement?" Asked Pepper as she picked the form up and began to read. Tony, it seemed, really did trust Pepper because he didn't even attempt to read the parchment.

"Of a sort," Harry replied, "it's a magically binding contract. Once we've all signed it, we physically won't be able to reveal any of the secrets we share under its protection without permission. The magic in the contract will force you to comply, no matter how much you might want to share what you know. As a plus, it will also protect any information you receive; neither torturer nor telepath could get it out of you."

Tony sat up and focused at that. "So, let's say, hypothetically, I believe you. This piece of paper will protect all of our secrets?"

"First, it's parchment, not paper. Second, it will only protect any secrets we share under the conditions of the contract, so it will protect your secrets while they're in my head, but not yours, because you already knew them."

Tony seemed only marginally disappointed. "Better than nothing, I suppose. Where do I sign?"

Harry pulled a quill from inside his robes. "Here, use this; it will only sting for a moment."

Pepper looked up from where she had finished reading the contract while Tony took the quill. "Sting? Why would it sting?"

"That's a blood-quill, it will draw blood from your body to use as ink," Harry replied sheepishly. "Since you're both muggles, er, non-magicals, the only way to ensure the contract takes hold on both of you is to use blood."

Tony furrowed his eyebrows for a moment before taking the quill and signing next to where Harry's name was already signed in red; he hissed in pain when his signature appeared on the back of his other hand before the wound sealed itself.

"Now, before Pepper signs, shall I demonstrate the contract?" After they both nodded, Harry got up and whispered something in Tony's ear; he just arched an eyebrow in confusion. "Go on, try and tell her."

"Pepper, I wet the bed last night. WHAT!" Tony flushed red, while Harry and Pepper both burst out laughing. "I didn't wet the bed! I tried to say I sleep with a teddy bear called Mrs Pepper Stark. NO! I didn't say that; I said I suffer from erectile dysfunction. SON OF A-"

"Stark! Stop!" Harry wheezed out between his fits of laughter, "She can't sign if she can't stop laughing."

"I guess that was the clause about trying to betray the contract?" Pepper asked a minute later when she had gotten herself under control, to which Harry nodded. She signed soon after, only wincing slightly at the pain. "Now, Tony, what were you trying to say?"

Tony, still lightly red from embarrassment, seemed reluctant to answer until Harry gave him the go-ahead. "Harry's middle name is James." He visibly relaxed when he wasn't forced to blurt out something else embarrassing.

"Still don't believe in magic, Stark?" Harry looked quite smug; Tony just grumbled under his breath. Harry flicked his wand and created two duplicates of the contract, before handing one each to Tony and Pepper. "To cancel the contract, all three copies must be destroyed, so keep those safe." They both nodded their understanding. "Right, let's begin. I was born on the 31st of July 1980, to James and Lily Potter…"

00:57, Ruins of Azkaban Prison, Island of Azkaban, 13th February 2014

Harry Potter stepped onto the Island of Azkaban for the first time, dressed in his 'Avenging Angel' costume; white bodysuit with stitched in gold runes, magically enhanced goblin-made golden armour, Gryffindor's sword on his hip, metal wings sticking out his back, and his white cloak, complete with green-smoke obscuring charm and a deathly hallows symbol as a clasp. His allies in this war: the Army of the Pheonix, the remnants of the Ministry of Magic, and the common folk who stood up to fight, called him the Guardian Angel. The Death Eaters and other dark creatures called him the Angel of Death, which Harry found particularly ironic considering Riddle's stage name.

Behind him, Hermione also disembarked from one of the boats. She was dressed in a similar manner, albeit with a colour change. Her suit and cloak were grey, and her armour was off-white, she also had a sword on her hip, but she lacked any wings and the smoke in her hood was an eerie blue; the clasp of her cloak was a simple marble rune denoting light. Both sides of the war referred to her by the same name, Spectre. Aurors and the Militia began to disembark from the three ships behind them as they walked through the ruins and up the nearest bluff to get a look at the island.

"Bloody Hell" Harry muttered under his breath when he saw the island in its entirety; Hermione was too shocked to correct his language.

Azkaban was a desolate place of stone and seawater, nothing seemed to be growing here, nor did any creatures dare make it their home. The western side of the island, where they had made landfall, was pot marked by the ruins of Azkaban Prison, which had been destroyed by Tom Riddle over a decade ago. East of that was several hundred yards of open, rugged ground before one reached the outer wall of the Fortress of Ténèbres.

Ténèbres was Voldemort's stronghold, and it certainly looked the part. Its foundations were built from stone cannibalized from the defunct prison of Azkaban and its walls were steeped in the blood of the slaves used to build them. Riddle had begun construction less than a year after conquering the ministry back in 1999, but it wasn't until the ministry was reconquered in 2012 that the 'light side' learned the people who 'disappeared' weren't simply being executed but were being shipped somewhere under fidelius. It took another year and a half, as well as the sacrifice of their single mole in Voldemort's ranks, to get their hands on a slip of paper with the secret written on it.

Approaching the fortress from the sea was suicidal, the keep, which was over sixty meters high, sat on a cliff edge, meaning one would have to climb vertically over a hundred meters to get into the fortress; said cliff was also pitted with caves in which the dementors dwelled. Attacking on land was little better; two walls, the first ten meters tall, the second fifteen, completely cut off any access to the keep. A single tower rose from one corner of the keep over a hundred meters into the sky, providing an excellent vantage point to watch for any attackers. Fortunately, the night was overcast, and the sea was foggy, meaning they probably hadn't been spotted yet.

After the shock wore off, Hermione gave his shoulder a squeeze (not that he could feel it through the armour) and shifted into her Animagus form, a demiguise; soon she went invisible and left to scout the fortress. Harry remained standing on the bluff until two men dressed in dark green combat robes with blue shoulder pads ran up to him to report.

"Sir! We've established a perimeter around the ruins, they're clear of enemies and the curse-breakers are doing their sweep now. Obscuring charms are in place and the Militia is forming up on the flat ground by the old docks. The healers want permission to establish a field hospital in what used to be the low-security wing; they say there are still fragments of the floor there they can work with. Chief Longbottom would like to know where to set up HQ and says that unloading is on schedule and should be completed in an hour." Said one of the men.

"Tell the healers they can set up as soon as the curse-breakers give them the all-clear. Give the Chief my compliments on the efficiency of his men and tell him to erect HQ on this mound."

"Yes Sir!" They both replied before they turned and trotted away to deliver the orders.

-HPaDD- -HPaDD- -HPaDD-

Five hours later and Harry was once again standing on the bluff, looking towards the fortress looming in the distance. Behind him, the HQ tent had been erected, and a steady flow of messengers made their way in and out to deliver reports or orders. In front of him, the troops were forming their units and commanders were having one last look over their orders.

The troops dressed in bright red robes, 'the Aurors', were the combat troops of his forces; very few of the roughly three hundred redrobes were actual aurors, but they were all well-trained, well-disciplined fighters. Each soldier was equipped with his wand, a spare wand, a silver dagger, and whatever potions he had been able to acquire. They were organized into companies of ten, each with its own captain (denoted by gold epaulettes), a lieutenant (second in command, silver epaulettes) and field-medic (marble epaulettes, often referred to as Sergeants for tradition sake) who was trained in field triage and carried extra potions. Ten companies formed a battalion, which was led by a Colonel, (gold epilates with two tassels) and his two Majors (gold epilates with a single tassel).

The other two hundred or so men assembling before him wore green robes, they were called 'the Militia'. They performed all the battlefield functions of the army outside of direct combat, as indicated by the colour of the leather shoulder pad each man wore: sappers (yellow), logistics (brown), curse-breakers (red), messengers (blue, who were notably equipped with brooms and invisibility cloaks), Guards/P.O.W. minders (black) and stretcher-bearers (white). The medics back at the field hospital were also technically Militiamen, but they wore pure white uniforms and didn't stray onto the battlefield. The Militiamen were also organized into companies of ten, but instead of forming battalions each company worked on its own and were collectively under the authority of a Chief (denoted by the appropriate colour shoulder pads with two tassels) and a pair of Petty Officers (appropriate colour shoulder pad with single tassel).

The Chiefs of the Militiamen and the Colonels of the Aurors reported to the Generals (gold epaulettes with three tassels for Major General or four tassels for a full General) in the HQ, who in turn reported to the Field Marshalls (gold epaulettes with five tassels): Harry and Hermione. In practice, though, it was the Generals who ran the show during battle, because both Harry and Hermione would be in the thick of the fighting.

General Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody hobbled out of the HQ to stand behind Harry, looking grim in his red combat robes. Old and injured as he was, he was still one of the most formidable fighters in the whole army, as such he would be leading the fourth and final wave. "It's time, laddie," Moodie said as he flicked open his pocket watch.

Harry nodded the affirmative and began making his way to where Hermione was waiting with the second wave; he just reached her as a horn sounded, causing the first wave to go forward.

Several companies of sappers charged with a shout, carrying shrunken defences to deploy thirty meters from the first wall. For each company of sappers, a company of curse-breakers, five stretcher bearers, and a pair of messengers followed.

The Death Eaters on the first wall were so surprised by the sudden attack that seemed to appear from thin air that they didn't open fire until the first wave had already crossed two hundred meters and had only fifty left to go. Once the sappers were in position it took less than a minute for them to expand and secure the pre-enchanted metal fieldworks under the sporadic fire from the few defenders on the walls, creating several safe spaces for the curse-breakers to begin picking apart the fortress's wards.

From his position amongst the second wave, a single battalion of Aurors with assorted Militiamen auxiliaries, Harry could see the spell-fire from the wall slowly start to ramp up as more defenders made it to the wall. As far as he could see, only one man was dead, and two were being brought back on levitating stretchers. The curse-breakers were firing an assortment of spells at the wall itself through slits in the defences and analysing the results; meanwhile, the sappers were taking pot-shots at the defenders or preparing charges to bring down the walls.

Twelve minutes later, a second horn signalled Harry's wave forward. Either side of him men and woman shouted battle cries as they charged through the obscuring charms and towards the wards, Hermione among them. Harry extended his wings and levitated himself up to about five meters above the ground before floating forwards, keeping pace with the rest of the wave.

The vast majority of the fire from the wall switched to the exposed redrobes, leaving the sappers free to break cover to chuck their charges at the walls, which exploded to cause no visible damage. Because the Aurors were trained in defence while running, and the range was great, casualties amongst the second wave were few as they charged. Harry was by far the most obvious target, so a great deal of spell fire was directed at him, which did little more than force him to hold a shield up and dodge the occasional Avada Kedavra as he floated forward; this, of course, drew fire away from the Aurors and Militiamen already on the field.

When the second wave had covered a hundred and fifty meters, a coordinated attack by the first wave caused the wards around the fortress to partially crack, causing many of the defenders to cease fire and duck for cover. The brief respite allowed Harry to drop his shield and fire his first offensive spell, an over-powered bombarda that went straight through the weakened wards to blow a piece of the parapet up and throw three Death Eaters off the wall. Harry smirked under his hood.

The men whooped when they saw his spell go through and let loose a cacophony of cheers when a barrage from the entirety of the first wave caused the wards to collapse completely, more explosives from the sappers caused three breaches in the wall moments later.

-HPaDD- -HPaDD- -HPaDD-

A horn in the distance signalled that the third wave, another battalion of Aurors with Militiamen support, was going forwards. Harry, now on the ground, grimaced as a werewolf cut itself on the silver shield he had conjured and howled in pain before its throat was slit by Hermione, who was standing to his left, sword in hand.

The first wave had made it through the breaches in the outer wall with little difficulty, but they were now pinned down in the killing ground between it and the secondary wall, which unexpectedly had its own ward scheme. The sappers had managed to reposition some of their fieldworks inside the gap between the walls and were once again working in tandem with the curse breakers to bring down the unexpected wards on the inner wall. The Aurors meanwhile were now occupied defending the Militiamen, including the logistics teams delivering more explosives to the sappers, from both the defenders on the wall and the werewolves who jumped off the walls to cause chaos. How Voldemort got werewolves to transform during the daytime on a new moon was at this point anyone's guess.

-HPaDD- -HPaDD- -HPaDD-

"Has little Potty come to play?" Bellatrix asked as she cackled manically. She was the only defender outside the keep still standing, all the others were either dead, deserting, being escorted away by Militiamen with black shoulder pads, or lay dying on the ground like the troll Harry had hamstrung with the sword of Gryffindor earlier, which was still moaning in pain softly as the venom did its work.

The remnants of the third wave, having just made it over the secondary wall and secured the courtyard, stood watching warily; none of them wanted to take on the infamously crazy, and deadly, duellist who was guarding the doors into the keep. Harry gestured for the Aurors to make some room and settled into a well-practised fighting stance.

"Oh Goody! Puny Potty wants to play!" Bellatrix giggled again and shot a fireball at Harry, which he easily batted aside.

"Is that all you have, you cackling crumpet? You couldn't fry a first year with that!" Harry taunted back. One of the Aurors laughed at that, which earned him a blasting spell from Bellatrix; the woman next to him blocked it, saving his life. Harry, meanwhile, used the distraction to launch three feathers from his wings at Bellatrix, which she was able to escape from with only a graze on her upper arm and a deranged smile.

Bellatrix laughed again and the duel began in earnest. No further hits were landed while the two duelled with spells and quips for about a minute until Harry noticed Bellatrix had dodged close to the spilt guts of an Auror she had eviscerated earlier. A well-placed barrage of feathers forced her to doge towards the remains, which she slipped on. The momentary loss of balance was all Harry needed to hit her with a cutting curse that went straight through her abdomen.

An eerie silence hung in the air for a second as Voldemort's greatest duellist fell, cut in twain, until those watching let out a thunderous cheer of victory. Harry simply summoned the feathers back to their position and readied himself for the final push. The fourth and final wave would be here soon for the assault on the keep proper, and he would have to join that one also. Hermione soon appeared by his side and handed him a pepper-up potion, which he thanked her for and downed in one.

-HPaDD- -HPaDD- -HPaDD-

A thundering boom echoed around the chamber as Harry burst into Voldemort's throne room. The Dark Lord was sitting on his throne, looking quite pleased with Harry's appearance.

"Ah, Harry Potter, we meet again." He smiled and twirled his wand lazily in his fingers. "It's been too long since we last spoke."

Behind the obscuring charm of his hood, Harry grimaced slightly at the pain in his scar, which he quickly suppressed with his occlumency. "Riddle, still unforgivably pretentious I see." The sounds of the ongoing battle between the Aurors and the remnants of Voldemort's forces echoed throughout the keep.

Voldemort laughed and flicked his wand, closing the doors Harry had just burst through. "There, that's what you wanted, isn't it? Just you and me, duelling to the end." Voldemort laughed again. "Well, boy, you're going to get your wish. Give my regards to your parents." With that Voldemort jumped up and struck; Harry was immediately on the back foot as the duel began.

Despite the fact they had roughly equal amounts of raw power, the extra decades of experience Voldemort possessed were giving him a distinct advantage, allowing him to more than keep up with Harry as the lavish trappings of the throne room were destroyed in their duel. Transfiguration, conjuring, charms, hexes, and curses were utilized by both parties as they fought. The mutual taunting ended after the first five minutes, and any trace of the smirk was gone from Voldemort's face by ten.

After twenty minutes of duelling, both parties had suffered some wounds, but Harry had clearly come off worse and was feeling the fatigue of the past hours of battle. The longer the fight drew on, the bleaker his chances of survival looked, so, after sidestepping Voldemort's conjured spear and sending a piercing spell in return, Harry did something unexpected.

With a shout of pure rage, Harry called upon the last of his magic and charged Voldemort. A look of surprise flashed across the Dark Lord's face before he controlled himself and shot a sickly purple spell at Harry.

Harry lunged and twisted simultaneously, taking the spell on his right wing (and mangling it horribly) while drawing his sword. In the blink of an eye, he had completed his turn and closed with a shocked-looking Tom Riddle, who had the sword of Gryffindor through his stomach before he could react.

Harry watched on unblinking as Riddle collapsed to the floor, mouth moving rapidly in silent gasps of horror. Moments later his exhaustion and pain hit him all at once and he fainted, completely missing the shade of Voldemort floating away

AN:

There we are, Chapter 3. 'Easter Egg' for this chapter was pretty obvious, it was of course the references to 'The Wizard of Oz':

Scarecrow, Cowardly Lion, Dorothy, and of course Tin Man.

I nearly had Harry go 'My dear Mister Stark, I'm clearly the wizard' but the Dorothy remark sounded funnier to me (and it's apt in its own way, Harry certainly isn't in Kansas anymore), besides Tony's shout of "Dorothy! What are you doing here?" last chapter was quite amusing to me.

'Iron Dome' is a real-life system used by Isreal that, as I understand it, serves a purely defensive purpose. All it does is shoot down incoming enemy missiles (and planes?) and is very good at doing it (something like 95% accuracy IIRC), which is why Israel suffered comparatively few casualties during the recent conflict with Palestine. Regardless of the politics of the area, I think it's fair to say 'Iron Dome' is a morally good weapons system. Of course, the real-life version is not produced by Stark Industries.

I feel like I've explained Harry's battle suit enough (twice in the chapter) but in case my descriptions aren't vivid enough, I'll list the pieces here:

White bodysuit with gold runes stitched in

Golden greaves, bracers, and a lorica segmentata (Roman Legionary Armour), forged by goblins

The sword of Gryffindor with accompanying golden scabbard

White cloak left hanging mostly open but fastened on one shoulder with a golden deathly hallows symbol and green mist obscuring charm in the hood

Metal wings from an as-yet undisclosed source (don't worry, he's not half angel)

Also, in case you're wondering, the name of Voldie's fortress is (according to google translate) French for Darkness. I thought Fortress of Darkness was quite fitting, and it sounds cool. :)