A/N: I don't have a lot to say about this chapter right now, except that I'm taking Wolfmoon's advice, and putting my review responses at the end of the chapter. Other than that, enjoy the chapter!
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Chapter 21: The Fall of a Lord
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It was with a well-hidden smirk that Harry was forced to his knees at Voldemort's feet. He used the Death Eaters laughter and Voldemort's insane cackle to cover the sound of him dropping a small marble onto the stone floor. A flick of his wrist, and the marble was rolling merrily across the floor. The Death Eaters stopped laughing, and Harry crossed his fingers. It would not do for anyone to notice the marble, and if things didn't go as planned, the marble was going to give itself away by hitting the wall. The marble rolled into a shadow, where a slender, feminine hand reached out from the wall, and plucked the marble from the floor. Harry tried to hide his smile. Hermione had arrived. The marble was a locator, so that Hermione could find where he was being taken, even if the place was unplottable.
Voldemort was a good deal better at reading people than his Death Eaters, and saw Harry's mouth twitch before he could master his face. "Something funny, Potter?" He asked. The voice was amused, but Harry could hear the anger behind it. He wondered briefly whether Voldemort had any other emotions, but didn't really care.
"I was just thinking about a joke that my friend Ron told me this morning." Harry said, keeping his voice nonchalant. This was the tricky part, but Harry had gotten quite good at knowing what buttons to push.
"Well, isn't that nice." Voldemort said, sounding like a very cold version of Professor Snape. "Let's see how funny you find this. Crucio!" The curse struck Harry directly in the chest, and Harry fell to the ground in agony. The Dark Lord smiled maliciously at Harry's screams. Harry, on the other hand, was trying not to laugh while screaming. He really couldn't feel the curse, as it was being absorbed completely by his demon cloak, but had to act the part of being hurt anyway. If he didn't, Voldemort would know his secret, and things would get ugly quite quickly.
Voldemort kept the curse on Harry for a good fifteen seconds before lifting it. Harry rolled onto his side, and listened. Voldemort's evil cackle was prevalent, but he could hear five other Death Eaters in the room as well. Harry smiled fully for a brief moment. One down. Hermione had used his screaming to quietly dispose of one Death Eater. So far, so good.
"Well, Potter?" The cold voice was edged with a sneer. "How funny was that?"
Harry's reply was dry and almost amused, the perfect thing to push another of Voldemort's buttons. "Now I know where Snape gets his sense of humor." The pain came quickly this time, and Harry could feel his shield adapt to the dark magic. He screamed his throat hoarse, knowing exactly what Voldemort wanted to hear, and watched out of the corner of his eye as a thin black blade slid effortlessly across another Death Eater's throat before he was pulled into the shadows.
Voldemort was far too angry to notice his follower's plight. The boy had mentioned the name of one of his betrayers. Snape had stopped answering his calls, and Malfoy had reported that his mark had been removed. He would be dealt with, and soon. "Do not mention that traitors name in my presence, Potter. My wayward follower will be dealt with soon enough."
"Good to know that you have fast service. I'd hate to be kept waiting for, I don't know, fifteen years?" Harry said. He'd barely finished the sentence when he was screaming again. He could feel his cloak's shield adapting even further in defense of the Dark Lord's magical signature. He could now absorb several killing curses from the evil wizard, and not even notice the energy drain. He kept a sharp eye for Hermione's blade, but only saw a feminine hand wrap around a Death Eaters face, and under the mask. The hand clamped down, and Harry could see the point of Hermione's sword push the robe away from the body right around his chest region. Harry marveled at how quickly she was taking care of the Death Eaters. Three down, three to go.
"Well Potter, it all ends tonight." Voldemort said. "I am going to kill you tonight, but I think you need more punishment for causing me all this trouble."
"Were you really expecting something else?" Harry asked. "Did you really think that people wouldn't resist you?" The curse was intense this time, and Harry's cloak shifted even further. He couldn't even feel the curse anymore. He had to watch the light to know that he was supposed to be screaming. He watched out of the corner of his eye as an arm shot out and wrapped around a Death eater's neck, and heard the small crunch as Hermione broke his neck, and dragged him into the shadow. Four down, two left.
"You should be quiet, Potter." Voldemort said, his angry voice tinged with a sneer. "I don't know how much more pain you can take before you lose your mind, and I want you lucid when you die."
Harry needed Voldemort distracted, so wasn't about to listen to that suggestion. "I'm not the one cursing me, Tom." The pain would have been intense this time, since Voldemort obviously wanted Harry to suffer greatly for calling him by that name. Harry screamed his voice ragged, arching his back, and thrashing about on the ground. He'd have Hermione heal him in a few minutes, before taking on the Dark Lord. Voldemort wasn't doing any damage to him, but he'd broken his hand slamming it against the floor, and he'd pulled a muscle in his back when thrashing about. Harry glanced up, but couldn't see Hermione performing her task. He was worried for a moment, until he realized there was only one Death Eater left. Hermione was fast on this one. He hadn't even seen it. Five down, and the last one would die soon.
When the curse ended, Voldemort decided it was time to move on. "Well Potter, I must say it has been quite a trip. You've been a very worthy adversary, but in the end, all must bow to Lord Voldemort." Voldemort missed the anger in Harry's eyes when he called himself by his assumed name. "Send my love to your parents Potter. Avada Kedavra!" The blast of green death slammed into Harry's chest, tossing him back five or six feet, where he fell completely limp. Voldemort released his highest pitched evil cackle. He would now be able to rule unopposed. There was still Dumbledore to deal with, but he was old, and his protégé was dead. He was so happy with himself that he didn't notice the faint cry his last Death Eater gave as he was stabbed through the back of his neck. The blade twisted once, and exited. The Death Eater dropped dead instantly, only twitching slightly.
Voldemort began shedding his clothes. Now that he would be the unopposed ruler of the world, it was time he looked the part. He donned his most regal looking emerald green robes, and adorned himself with several articles of silver jewelry. It was at this moment that he felt the air grow heavy around him. His head jerked up to the snakehead on top of his throne. It was gone! The large emerald that he'd used as the keystone to his anti-apparition ward had been taken! Now that it was no longer in his possession, he couldn't apparate either. He knew however, since the apparition field was still in effect, the stone had not left the room. He began searching the room. The first thing he noticed was the lack of Death Eaters in the room. He called for them a couple of times, but received no answer.
Looking into the darkness, he finally saw them, but it did not make him happier. They were dead. All six of his inner circle members were dead. His head whipped once more to where Harry Potter should be lying dead near his throne. To his dismay, he saw no body, nor any indication that he was dead. Well, that wasn't good. He needed Harry's body to decimate the hopes of the Wizarding world. It would be far harder to do it without the body of their savior.
An ethereal voice spoke from nowhere in particular. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, Born as the seventh month dies…And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"
Voldemort froze. That was it! That was the prophecy that had led him to his downfall almost sixteen years ago. He'd only heard the first part, and had unwittingly completed the second part. Well, it didn't matter anymore. Now that he'd killed the whelp, he was truly unstoppable. The prophecy said so.
"One has to wonder, though. What kind of power, do you suppose, did Harry have that you didn't know?" Came a voice from everywhere at once, but mostly centered in the shadows of the room. Voldemort's lips once again curled into a smile. His wayward Shadow Masters had returned, now that he'd proven himself the most powerful.
"It really doesn't matter now, does it?" Voldemort said. "I am invincible now, and he's dead. It was probably the pitiful protection spell that his mother left him, anyway."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that, Riddle." Came the voice, this time centered in a particularly dark shadow near the corner. "Perhaps, Riddle, the power that he possesses is an innate immunity to the killing curse. Did you think to check his body for a pulse or anything?" Voldemort's eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing. "I didn't think so. Or," the voice said as the Shadow Master stepped into the room, "perhaps he can travel without apparating as well. If those two are accurate, then it explains where he went, doesn't it? Of course, the better explanation of where he went would most certainly be that I myself took him from this room."
"Bring him back then. He is my trophy, and I will display his rotting carcass as I march on the Ministry of Magic." Voldemort said.
"Riddle, Riddle, Riddle. You surprise me again. What, in the name of whatever gods you worship, would give you the impression that I would do as you say?" The demon said. "My loyalty is to my Lord Voldemort, and no one else."
"Still on about the name game, are we?" Voldemort sneered. "You would do well to obey me, demon. I am now the most powerful sorcerer in the world."
"Perhaps, but even you, the most powerful sorcerer in the world," The demon said, "can't harm me with magic."
"We'll see about that, now won't we? Crucio!" Voldemort said lazily, like the curse would obviously work. The crimson beam of light struck the demon right in the chest. The demon didn't even flinch. Voldemort was temporarily dumbfounded. The cloak was just absorbing the light from the curse, and the demon just stood there. Deciding it was just an unnecessary draw on his reserves, Voldemort ended the spell.
"That was rather pathetic, Riddle. If you had actually put some effort behind that curse, I might have felt it tickle a bit, but I didn't even notice that one. I don't think I've ever introduced myself." The demon said. "You may call me Flame."
Voldemort's expression turned calculating. If he could find out the demon's true name, he would have a hold over him. "Your name is Flame?"
"No Riddle, Flame is not my name, but you may call me Flame, all the same" Flame said, his voice amused, and almost familiar.
"I like to call things by their true names. Tell me yours." The smile would have been benevolent, but the snake imitation made it difficult to look anything but menacing.
"I have so many names, Riddle, I'm not sure which one to give you." Flame said, his appearance altering slightly, so he looked just like the assassin that Voldemort had met inside Stonehenge. "You met me once as Nytemare," his appearance changed again, "LeStrange was killed by me as Venificus." His appearance changed back to his original robes. "And the Order of the Phoenix has been hunting me as Flame. But I have so many more names than that." The demon began to wander towards Voldemort, who had once again resumed his position by his throne. "My Aunt and Uncle used to call me 'boy.' My partner calls me 'sweetie' sometimes." He was getting closer, and Voldemort was actually starting to get nervous. "At school, I was known as 'freak' because of my cousin. But then we get to the really interesting names. In the beginning of my life, the wizarding world called me a hero. By the time I got to Hogwarts, some called me 'a legend.' The general population called me 'The-Boy-Who-Lived.' I called myself 'worthless' for a while." The demons hands grasped his hood, and lowered it, revealing the face of Voldemort's nemesis. "But my friends just call me Harry."
"Potter!" Voldemort cried, his surprise evident. "I just killed you! You're dead!"
"You don't really believe you can kill a Shadow Master with a simple curse, do you?" Harry sneered, an expression very uncharacteristic to his face.
The transformation from fear to glee was almost magical as Voldemort's expression changed. "So, the Shadow Master spirits I called wormed their way into your body, did they? That's wonderful news, Potter." Harry was wondering where this was going, but didn't need to wait long to find out. "There is a way for the summoner of demons to take control of them away from their chosen masters, and bind them to his service." Harry merely raised an eyebrow. He was familiar with the ritual, and knew of the way, but wasn't sure how it was supposed to help Voldemort out. "And the best part? The spell is quite simple, if you have experience with the imperious curse."
Harry now knew where this was going. "I doubt that the spell would help you very much, Riddle."
"What do you know about it?" Voldemort questioned angrily. "Nothing! Now that I have your true name, I can bind you to my service, and you can do nothing to stop me!" He leveled his wand at Harry, and spoke the words he would come to regret in a few moments. "Imperio Dominatus Harry James Potter!"
The spell struck Harry in the head, and the room was filled with a pulsating forest green light. Along with the light, came smoke that swirled around Harry, testing him, verifying his identity. Harry could feel the magic working on deciding who he was, and then he could feel the rejection from the smoke. The smoke turned a deep red color, and the light pulsated from green to orange. The smoke left him, and swirled around Voldemort instead. Suddenly, the orange light all was gathered into the cloud, and Voldemort began to scream. Orange lightning crackled across the surface of the red cloud, arcing to Voldemort's body, which writhed in pain with each new arc. It carried on for several minutes, before the spell ended quite abruptly, leaving Voldemort breathing heavily, resting on his knees.
"Ouch." Harry observed. "That looked quite painful. I'm guessing you weren't quite prepared to face the consequences of spell rejection."
"H-How?" Was the only word Voldemort could stutter through his clenched teeth.
"How did your spell fail?" At Voldemort's nod, Harry explained. "Harry Potter is the name of the human that I've inhabited. The spell you cast is made specifically for controlling DEMONS. Since you were trying you control the demon spirit inhabiting this body, you needed to cast the spell using the demon's name, not the host's."
Voldemort was in too much pain to really think, but he knew there were other options, if he could just think of a way to stall.
"Unfortunately for you, Riddle," Harry continued, "I now have the right to end your life as the punishment for guessing my name incorrectly. It simply wouldn't do for me to allow you another guess, now would it? You might get lucky the next time."
Voldemort had finally regained enough of his faculties to mount a counter-offensive. "Wait." He said, and Harry paused. "Kill me, and you'll never see your precious mudblood again!" Harry shot him a confused look. "Did you think that my followers only took you from the school? Did you honestly think that the Great Lord Voldemort wouldn't have a backup plan? My friends in the aurors took young Miss Granger from the school minutes after you left. Kill me, and she dies!"
It was a bold lie, but a convincing one. Harry knew it was a lie, since Hermione had been helping him just moments ago, but he couldn't detect the lie in Voldemort's mind. It was impressive Occlumency for a human. Harry decided to play along. "Name your terms, Lord Riddle."
The cruel smile returned. "Serve me until I let you go, and I will release your precious mudblood."
"First term is denied." Harry said in a flat voice. "After all, you'll be dead in a few minutes, and then I can go look for her myself."
"When I go, all my Death Eaters will know it, and they will react accordingly. The two that hold Miss Granger have very explicit instructions to exact my vengeance on her." Voldemort sneered. It was another bold lie, but this time Harry could see it. The pain from the control cloud weakened him, and his barrier was falling.
Harry chose to ignore the last lie, and began to build a fire in his hand. "Any other last minute terms before you die?" At Voldemort's incredulous look, Harry continued. "I'm a demon, Riddle. Surely you don't think that silly little school friendships mean much to me?"
Voldemort was about to enter full-blown panic mode. "Allow me to live, and turn your attention elsewhere, and I shall release Miss Granger, and leave you alone for the rest of your life."
"And how does one release that which he has not captured?" Harry said, his eyes growing dangerous. "As for leaving me alone for the rest of my life, that will happen as soon as I end yours." The fireball in Harry's hand was now about the size of a baseball, and continued to grow, ever so slowly. Voldemort regarded it with unhidden fear.
"Don't lie to yourself, Potter. If you think you can delude yourself into killing me by believing that I don't have your precious mudblood, the truth is still the truth." Voldemort said, trying to mask his fear once again.
"That is true, Harry." Came a voice from inside the shadows. Hermione stepped out of them, her hood down showing her face. "And this thing wouldn't know how to speak the truth, even if he tried. He's lived his entire life based on lies. Put him out of his misery."
Voldemort leveled his wand at Hermione. "Avada Kedavra!" The green bolt of death sped towards Hermione, who made no attempt to block the curse, or even to dodge out of the way. The curse struck her directly in the stomach, but seemed to be absorbed by her cloak, leaving her completely unharmed. Hermione reacted in kind, sending one of her black knives hurling at him. Voldemort brought up his shield, but the knife cut right through it, almost like it wasn't even there. With a cry of pain, Voldemort dropped his wand. There was a knife stuck in his arm, right at the elbow. His hand had gone limp when the nerve had been severed, and the wand fell from his hand.
Harry pulled a wand from the hem of his traveling cloak. "Accio Dagger!" He said, pointing at Voldemort's pocket. The fireball in his other hand continued to grow, ever so slowly. It was almost the size of a softball now. The dagger of Salazar Slytherin sped towards him, only to be plucked out of the air by Hermione, showing skill that any seeker would be proud of.
"Would you like to know how I got the name Flame, Riddle?" Harry asked innocently, as the fireball finally reached its full size, right about the size of a softball. "I didn't actually give it to myself, you know. Hermione gave it to me, when she saw what I could do. This fire," He tossed the ball into the air slightly, and caught it, "eats magic. It won't harm anything else, and won't do any permanent damage to structures. But it won't stop until it's eaten all the magic it can touch." The ball was once again tossed leisurely into the air, and caught. "Let's see what happens when my magical fire is introduced to a magical spirit, who happens to be walking about in a body created by magic." With that he threw the ball straight at Voldemort.
The ball hit Voldemort, despite his attempt to dodge, right in the hand. His hand began to disintegrate as the ball began to eat the magic in it. Voldemort began to scream, but was silenced by a spell from Hermione. The two demons watched as the Dragon flames ate every part of Voldemort's body, leaving nothing as evidence, not even ashes. Harry and Hermione could feel his magic diminishing, and they knew he wouldn't come back.
Finally, the flames died, and Harry surveyed the scene. There was a set of regal green robes lying on the floor in a heap, and a silver signet ring with the Slytherin crest. He picked up the ring, and put it in his pocket. He walked slowly over to Hermione, and they shared a bone-crushing hug. "Happy Halloween, Hermione." Then, in an even quieter voice, he said "Happy Halloween, Mom and Dad."
The two young lovers just stood there for a moment, basking in their love, and the newfound freedom of their now demon-free lives. Suddenly, Harry got an odd look on his face. "Hermione, do you feel different?"
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A/N: It stops there, people. This was a hard chapter to write, because it was always to easy for Voldemort to be killed, so the chapter kept coming up short. I finally got the version I'm happy with, so I'll leave you with a small cliffie to celebrate. I'm not putting any review responses in this chapter, since it's been so long since the last one. I hope you all enjoyed reading this chapter, and look for the next one soon.
Coming soon: A horrible realization, and time for Plan B! (And no, people, Voldemort is not still alive.)