Embracing His True Self
Chapter 100
Harry may have bought into Dumbledore's lies if he was less secure about his place here. In Tom's life, in Tom's bed, and how much the others respected him. He might need reminded now and again, but for the most part he knew they weren't going to kill him unless they had a reason to do so. Such as if he betrayed them. Which he would never do.
It wasn't a new suggestion either, Dumbledore had used it before, and he'd just spat that he didn't care at the old fool. Which he didn't, it was far greater a fate than what Dumbledore had planned for him.
"Would you be able to get the truth from him?" Harry asked, "If he had any back up plans?"
"Not without driving him insane, and even then, the mind would be too fragmented to get anything of use." Voldemort stepped down, a thoughtful look on his face. Dumbledore, much like himself, had made sure their mind was as protected as possible. Sure, there were always ways to get around it, but they were pretty permanent and nine times out of ten useless. "I got lucky twice with Jorkins." First in her decision to follow Pettigrew without attempting to call for back up – the idiot – and the knowledge she'd gleaned while at Crouch manor. Barty as affected as he was, had always been loyal and willing to do anything he asked, Pettigrew had been very unreliable. So, he had jumped – metaphorically – as it had been at the time. The second thing was information about the Triwizard tournament.
"We are getting a turn, right?" Barty asked, after a respectful silence, eyes narrowing in on Harry.
Harry snorted, "No," no way were they getting to off him before he had a chance. "Oh! come on!" Harry cried out in exasperation at Barty's wounded look. "He won't last being cursed by everyone!" he wasn't having someone actually ending the old fool, he wanted that honour himself.
The groaning could have actually caused the walls and floor to vibrate.
"One turn each," Voldemort declared, entirely ignoring Harry's eyes zoning on him with incredulity.
Harry utterly pissed off stalked towards Tom, ignoring the flaring in those eyes that denoted extreme arousal. Just watching his pissed off partner making his way towards him. "If he dies…I'm returning to my old room…for three years!" he hissed out, chin jutted out in determination. "At least!"
The entire room was frozen, none of them heard what Harry said, but it didn't take a genius to figure out he wasn't happy and probably saying something…that shouldn't be said to the Dark Lord. Something none of them would dare say either, nobody had the guts to tell the Dark Lord what to do except for Potter apparently.
"If Dumbledore dies the one responsible follows him to the grave," Voldemort retorted almost immediately afterwards. Just a little less than half the people in the room stepped back, becoming 'spectators' instead of participators.
Harry turned to face everyone, a smug smirk on his face. Green eyes gleaming with amusement, looking around contentedly as more people opted out. Now there was less chance of Dumbledore dying before he could dole out exactly what he deserved.
He was going to enjoy every single minute of it.
"Rictusempra!"
Harry choked on his laugh, for a second, he suspected he'd been hit with the tickling charm. Blinking back to himself, he gaped, "Are you fucking kidding me?" a tickling charm? Seriously?!
The perpetrator flinched, and quite a few people notably stepped back as well.
"Isn't this what you wanted? Them to afraid to cause the old fool harm?" Voldemort taunted.
"No!" Harry protested, making a fist and punching Tom in the arm. "Not cool!" pouting a little, now that it was time, he did sort of want to see Dumbledore tortured by someone other than just him. They did have a lot more spells at their arsenal than him. More so than him, and not because of his upbringing but most families have grimoires, he'd started his when he was eleven admittedly but that was it, generations had added to the very secret grimoires in the families. The Potter's didn't have one.
"Then you shouldn't have complained," Voldemort replied dryly, watching over the group and Dumbledore like a father watching over his family or shepherd over his flock more accurately.
"Or…we can do something else," Harry said suddenly, eyes flaring as the idea hit him.
Voldemort arched his brow, wondering what his delicious boy was up to now. He did love it when his bloodthirstiness showed. It didn't happen often, but when it did…he always surpassed on Dumbledore again. Flicking his wand, Dumbledore was lashed to an invisible contraception that they had no idea was like the cross. "Since you love Muggles so much…I'm going to give you the honour of dying like one of them."
Wariness began to seep into those dull blue eyes.
"I mean you did want to lord over them, didn't you? Until you gave the appearance of backing out," Harry continued on, circling the old man. "Wanted to be their new god, but you wanted to cheat, you didn't want to go through what He did, huh?"
Voldemort inhaled sharply, realizing exactly what his boy was going to do.
"You don't happen to have any lying around, do you?" Harry craned his head and asked, merriment gleaming wickedly.
"Unfortunately, not, no," Voldemort replied, "However, it doesn't take much to conjure up a set." Taking the wind right out of Dumbledore's relieved sails.
"Good," Harry said, "Then do it." turning back to Dumbledore, he flicked his wand and undressed him, leaving only the soiled – and stinking – underwear on.
"Harry," Dumbledore cautioned him, breathing heavily, fear prominently displayed. "Stop, don't do this to yourself. There is no turning back if you hurt someone, it will break you."
"Aww, you don't want me to hurt you for my own benefit?" Harry said, turning to face Dumbledore, "Let me ask you something…did that ever work? Are people that stupid to trust you? To let you get inside their heads?"
Muffled laughter circled both of them, but neither seemed to notice.
Voldemort was busy creating every single Muggle weapon he knew, which was considerable actually. Since he had grown up in the muggle world for sixteen years and had read everything, he could get his hands on. He might not have owned anything, but there had been plenty of libraries in the area. He doubted Harry would know what half of them were, but he had been surprised in the past.
Vindictive little thing, Voldemort thought as he transfigured a scalpel and added it to the list with unfurling anticipation. Perhaps Harry would allow him to…participate for a brief time, he knew, he knew that his Death Eaters would all have a newfound and sudden respect for Harry after this.
He wasn't just killing, no, or torturing as this case may be, but he was killing Dumbledore, the leader of the light. That would cement things in the way that not even what he did to Bellatrix would count.
"Is that enough? Or should I add more?" Voldemort questioned, staring thoughtfully at the table.
"There's more?" an incredulous whisper was heard, as they all stared at the huge amount of implements on the table.
"They'll do," Harry said, "But you're missing the crucifixion nails,"
"Have I?" Voldemort said innocence personified. "How silly of me," practically purring.
Harry threw him a glare, shifting suddenly extremely uncomfortable, he was going to kill him. He was not going to get a damn hard on while killing Dumbledore or worse, in front of everyone. He felt as if everyone already knew. It thawed a little when the nails were passed over, sharp enough that they drew blood when he pressed his thumb to one of them. "Perfect," he murmured, turning back around to Dumbledore.
"Harry, Harry, Harry, no, please, I'm sorry, please, no," Dumbledore plead for his life without shame. Long ago broken by isolation, touch depravation and torture. He wasn't above begging, not anymore, even the strongest of people couldn't withstand torture.
"You're sorry? For what exactly?" Harry asked darkly, flicking his wand forcing Dumbledore's hands to remain in place before he levitated the crucifixion nail zoomed it around the room, before thrusting it as violently as possible into the centre of his palm and the screaming and bellowing that it elicited made Harry feel stronger.
Dumbledore hadn't managed to destroy his life.
He repeated the process a second time putting the second nail in his left palm.
"This proves it! Muggles are barbaric!" looking a little sick at the blood that was trickling down Dumbledore's wounds.
"Wait for the next part," Harry said, cocking his head to the side, "I'm missing one after all."
Voldemort snorted, barely refrained from rolling his eyes before conjuring and handing over that last nail. Well, participate in the actual torture he might not get to do, but at least he got to help somewhat. "Don't make the wand trusts quite so quick, they'll go through regardless of speed."
Harry made a thoughtful humming sound, before twirling his wand and starting the process again. He took Tom's advice, and his wand movements weren't quite so swift. Another bellowing scream left Dumbledore's mouth, as his feet were pinned together.
"Hmm, technically you're supposed to die and come back again, but well, we don't really want that do we?" Harry said the second Dumbledore's screaming tapered off to choked whimpers and the occasional mews of pain. "You know…muggles came up with another practice of torture…called death by a thousand cuts…don't cut too deep."
"You want us…to cut him?" Lucius asked incredulously. Watching Harry pick up the small silver implement that looked more like his letter opener than anything dangerous. "With that?"
Harry smirked, "Yes," he answered.
"Either that or step back." Voldemort retorted, and they didn't need to wonder if the Dark Lord was upset, it was clear he was quite annoyed at them. They had no right question Harry, he was their Lord, they should be bowing and scraping in happiness at being asked to do anything.
Lucius stepped forward, taking the implement from Harry's hand, finding it entirely foreign to hold. Narrowing his eyes on the snot and tear-filled face of Dumbledore, he jabbed the scalpel at him, eyes widening how easily it went through the skin, like butter! He grimaced and backed up when the blood spurted out.
Rabastan eagerly took over, then Barty, and over and over again, someone stepped forward to punish Dumbledore. It might not be a thousand cuts, but it was in the hundreds. Every single one of them were getting to punish Dumbledore for the things he'd done. He had done downright diabolical things to them all.
None more so than what he had planned for Harry.
"Please, Harry, help, please, mercy," Dumbledore choked out, entire body shaking not just in fear but agonizing pain.
"What is it? What do you want?" Harry asked, venturing closer to Dumbledore. "What can I get you?" sounding very much like an eager young boy.
"Let me…let me go…" Dumbledore said, head lolled to the side, the tears and snot dried up leaving him itchy and irritated on top of the pain from his cuts.
"Like you let Gellert go? Let me go?" Harry asked coldly, stepping back, the hope Dumbledore had fading entirely. The old fool still thought he had retained any loyalty to him? clenching his teeth in fury, reliving the time spent with Gellert before he passed. "Acetum!" unable to stand there doing nothing, pouring the contents coming out of his wand all over the old fool, hearing him scream renewed didn't cause his fury to fade.
If anything, it made him feel more frustrated.
The vinegar caused the wounds to burn, made Dumbledore writhe in agony. The holes in his hands and feet increasing with his movement. The pools of blood beginning to deepen and widen.
"Nothing is going to make what he did better," Harry said quietly as he felt Tom move up behind him. "All the torture in the world isn't going to help…is it?"
Voldemort grimaced a little, "No," he revealed honestly, "It really doesn't." and he was speaking from personal experience. Sure, it wasn't his father Harry was angry at, or his grandparents…but it was someone close enough to them that had betrayed them. The potion was a betrayal, even if Harry had never really trusted the old fool like he pretended.
"How do you deal with it?" Harry asked, as salt was poured out of Severus' wand and clung to Dumbledore's skin, metaphorically and literally rubbing salt in the wound.
"I didn't," Voldemort said dryly, he had literally gone insane with the separation of his soul to such a foul degree. "There comes a time where you have to focus on your goals, instead of the past, nothing can change it." that and the training, and real duels helped as well, but what really helped was having full control of his faculties. They could only move on from the harsh blows the past had dealt them.
Harry hummed, before picking up what anyone innocent would think was merely an ice cream scoop. "Do you know what this is, Dumbledore?" Harry asked approaching the wizard, wheezing harshly, a blue tinge to his lips, the cold and blood loss beginning to get to him. "I mean you probably do, since you love muggles so much, and it's not a knitting pattern or a pair of socks." Mocking the old man, who probably didn't give a shit about knitting or socks. There was no way Dumbledore would have told him one single true thing about him.
It was all lies to draw him in.
"This quite literally allows muggles to scoop out eyeballs," Harry explained conspiratorially, like kids who had found something their parents wouldn't let them touch let alone keep. "Its technical name is an evisceration spoon." Having to purse his lips when he heard Barty cackling, he just had one of those laughs that made him sound entirely insane.
"No! No! No! No!" Dumbledore said craning his neck as if he could somehow stop what was about to happen.
"Usually, they only remove eyes when there's no saving them," Harry said advancing forward. "Well, with Muggles anyway, we have far greater capabilities, don't we?" basking in the pleading Dumbledore was doing, oh, it was good to know he was scared, terrified even.
"It would be easier just summoning them, really," Harry said, pressing Dumbledore's head against the restraints stopping him from moving. The screaming naturally started back up again. As Harry scooped out Dumbledore's eyeball with quick efficiency, as if he had done it a million times before. It was actually just beginner's luck.
Grimacing at the amount of blood spattering on him, Harry flung the scoop and the eyeball to the side.
Voldemort wordlessly banishing the eye and the scooper.
"Remind me to never piss him off," Lucius heard said to him from his neighbour, and Lucius pale and shaken, nodded once. Barely able to retain his own composure, that was downright gross, disgusting, terrifying and diabolical. He thought he'd seen everything here, but this was a whole new torture that reinforced her belief that Muggles were just animals. What sort of tortures had they devised up?
This was somehow worse than seeing Bellatrix being stripped of her magic. The gaping hole that was in Dumbledore's face was sickening. Blood spurting out the bloody and empty orifice.
"And…do you know what they used to do to thieves in the old days?" Harry asked, still circling around Dumbledore, not really caring whether the old fool actually heard him or not. Also, not expecting an answer.
Harry grinned, "Oh, you do," he said realizing Dumbledore knew judging by how much paler he went. Honestly, you'd find much more colour in the ghosts of Hogwarts. "Sneaky, sneaky," he tutted playfully, exhilaration rushing through him, at least he didn't need to pretend this time.
"Praetrunco!" Harry said twice in rapid succession, as Tom cauterised the wounds making it seem as if it were entirely an afterthought. Which it may well actually be. His arms freed so suddenly, he lurched forward, faceplanting on the floor, the cracking of his nose loud in the otherwise breathlessly silent room.
The only thing that could be heard was the pained groaning, Dumbledore's vocal cords too pained to give much sound of protest.
"Which of my generation did you train if you died?" Harry commanded to know, crouching down near Dumbledore.
He wasn't surprised when he didn't get an answer. "Crucio!" he cast punishing Dumbledore for his disobedience. The writhing was so severe that the skin moved around the nail, leaving Dumbledore freed of his restraints but curled up in a ball.
"Who did you train to take over if you died?" Harry demanded.
One more there was naught but silence, "Crucio!"
Harry dispassionately watched Dumbledore twist, writhe and bleed, "One last chance before you lose your tongue…who did you train to take over if you died?"
Dumbledore just lay there panting to a dangerous degree, not saying a word.
"I'd love to continue the Muggle method but I'm bored, and I don't really care to get you back into position." Harry said bluntly, pausing just to see if the old fool would give in. "Liars would lose their tongues…and you are one of the biggest liars out there."
"They'll fight for me," Dumbledore rasped out, "Kill for me…remember me," he'd never be forgotten.
"No, they won't, you know how it goes, history is written by the victors," Harry said smugly, "You're not even going to be mentioned, not even in the footnote."
For the first time Dumbledore began to struggle, clearly, he didn't like that threat.
"Accio tongue!" Harry ducked to avoid the 'tongue' he'd just summoned.
Voldemort cleared his throat, giving Harry a look that screamed he was unimpressed. The tongue laying far too close to him.
Harry just smiled beatifically; he could have moved.
"Or maybe," Harry said, turning back around, "We should put your name in the place of Gellert Grindelwald. Albus Dumbledore the second most powerful Dark Lord the world has ever seen…and all the damage you caused. You'd finally get credit where credit is due, and Gellert? The biggest victim of yours, you stole over well one hundred years of his life…you miserable bastard." And Gellert had died still loving part of Dumbledore too. Worse still, Dumbledore would find it funny.
No, Gellert was at peace now, nobody was going to mock that.
"I'm done with him…" Harry said, "Do what you like now," they knew Dumbledore's body was spoken for. It would for the most part, remain intact and delivered somewhere publicly, the Ministry or Diagon Alley or something.
"Crucio!" Voldemort was swift in his actions, and Dumbledore was writhing under the curse. Unlike usual, he didn't withdraw the spell after a minute. He had no qualms about turning Dumbledore into a mewing mess.
Only stopping after well over three minutes, way passed the danger zone. Mouth open agape drool slowly emerging, not entirely there. Dumbledore was already gone, his body and a broken shell was all that was left behind.
"Avada Kedavra!" and just like that, two little words, and Albus Dumbledore was gone.
After over a hundred years in power, revered and feared in equal measures, the evillest wizard in the magical world finally perished. The sense that he was 'unbreakable and undefeated' was long gone. Harry would keep his word; he would make sure that Dumbledore was forgotten entirely by history.
He would be buried under a stone without a name.
Forever forgotten.
They didn't know who was ultimately behind but unbeknown to all of them the House-elves had a letter meant for one Colin Creevy in their possession.
There we go! I know, the chapters are very short for me :) these days anyway lol but question is...will I keep working on the story until it's finished? I mean there's only a few more left ;) and then I'll be saying goodbye to the story might even show you guys the original ending I had planned for this story which hasn't happened which is rather strange, I don't normally deviate from the original intended ending :D but anyways here we go! R&R please!