AN: Hi folks, this chapter is not beta-read, again, because my beta is occupied with WOW and other things. Someone out there, who wants to beta-read the further parts of the story and thinks he or she is able to do it under one month per chap? If you are interested, contact me! Thanks.

Until I find someone for the beta-job, be so kind and excuse my bad grammar and the multitude of mistakes I made.

Enjoy reading


Chapter 11: One Dark Quest

The veil of darkness faded and noises reached his ears. As Harry recognized one voice the temperature inside him dropped to zero. No mistaken, it was Voldemort's. He noticed that he was bounded at wrists and ankles and was lying on the floor, but couldn't remember how he get in this situation.

"I knew the old fool would be too slack!", Voldemort said to someone who stood behind Harry. Harry dared to raise his head a bit to look his archenemy in the eyes. A mistake, he felt as a boot came down on his neck.

"Come on, my trusted servant, there is no need to be rude", the cold voice sneered and added quieter, but still clearly understandable, "not so short before his death". Multiple mocking laughter erupted around Harry.

Harry's vision cleared entirely and he saw Voldemort sitting on a throne of skulls and bones, guarded by two Deatheaters on his side. His observation came to a fast end as Voldemort addressed him again, "But I'm forgetting my politeness. Welcome! Mister Potter, I'm glad you joined us tonight for your execution".

Again laughter rang though the room and still pressed the boot him down. Eventually the laughter died away and the boot was removed also. Just as Harry wanted to take a deep breath of release, the boot came up under his left shoulder and the one behind him turned him over, so that Harry could see the face.

By this sight he almost forgot to breathe and he was totally aghast. "Hello Harry, old lad, how do you like your birthday present. I'm sorry I couldn't deliver it sooner", Ron said with a wicked grin.

Remembering that he had to breathe Harry soaked up the air and with the air came hate. "Why, Ron, why?", he asked with emphasis, almost shouting it. "It was clear to me that you would not be aware of it. You are so selfish, you don't see anything, not even the most obvious things", whereas the first words came out barely audible Ron yelled the last few.

Harry tried to say something but Ron didn't stop yelling, "I should be the famous one, I deserve the lot of money and she was MINE." Never ever Harry had heard so much envy and hate in so few words. But the same envy and hate flamed up in him and he spat faster than he could think, "Nothing is yours! You should be grateful that I admit you to stay at my side for a while." Ron was about to draw his wand and give Harry an appropriate answer as Voldemort suppressed all further actions with a sharp "Enough!".

Ron cast a last hateful glance at Harry then turned towards his master and waited for the next think to come and Harry fought an upcoming feeling of discomfort caused by his unfortunate position with Voldemort in his back.

"And now, my servant, what shall be your reward?", Voldemort asked with a tone you could consider as friendly given who was speaking. "Master, I ask nothing more than to be on your side and stand in your glorious shadow", Ron said, on his knees and a subordinated tone.

Harry couldn't see the dark lord's face, but he was sure that he was smiling. "Exemplary, but your service justifies a reward. You may ask everything you want, I'm in a generous mood", Voldemort said, leaving no doubt that his mood was a temporally state.

"Then, in all modesty, in ask for her as my private slave." Harry saw how Ron nodded to someone as he said "she" and followed the direction. He found another person tied like him and in addition gagged. The huge amount of bushy brown hair made clear who "she" was.

Hermione struggled against her bindings and screamed against her gag as she heard Ron's words and struggled even stronger as Voldemort laughed in approval. When the laughter died away Voldemort dismissed Ron with a gesture and Ron left Harry's view in order to take his position along his fellows Deatheaters.

A spell lifted from the ground and turned him around, gently, until he faced Voldemort who aimed a wand, Harry's wand to be precisely, at him. "So, Potter and now, I will finish what I begun so long ago. I know I should allow you a last wish or a few last words, but due to our common history we will leave such things aside. Good bye, Harry James Potter, you were a formidable enemy. Avada Kedavra!", Voldemort intonated with a malicious voice.

It was remarkable what hate could do. Harry was filled with hate from toe to parting, hate against Ron, hate against Voldemort, hate against everyone else and especially against himself. This hate gave him cunning, strength and speed.

As Voldemort said "good bye" Harry made a decision. "Harry James Potter" was all the time he need to developed a plan. Until "enemy" he gathered his strength and in the art break Voldemort took to enjoy his victory Harry blasted his bonds and shouted, "Accio Wand".

Each of his hands held a wand by the time when the dark lord finished his "avada". By the way Harry noticed that the killing curse had a incantation far too long and made a mental note to take remedial measures as soon this was over.

As Voldemort finished his curse Harry pointed both wands at him and yelled "Protego" and two layers of a spell shield flared into existence. A green flash erupted from Voldemort's wand and collided with the first layer, broke through it and hit the second layer.

There it was deflected but not ricocheted back to Voldemort, like Harry had intended, but straight towards Hermione. Hermione was hit in the head and her struggle against her bonds stopped immediately.

Harry's hate multiplied and he burst regular. Focusing and channeling his energy on Voldemort he exclaimed, "Avada Kedavra". A twin-flash of green light illuminated the room and Voldemort wailed in agony. Under the eyes of the Deatheaters and Harry Voldemort vanished in black smoke and only a pile of ash remained.

Finding his hate still burning Harry faced the Deatheaters. A few minutes later he was the only person alive. The rush of power ebbed away and Harry noticed to his satisfaction that there was no blood though he had used various blasting curses.

He dropped the borrowed wands and took his own, cleaning it from the disturbing ash. After that he went over to Hermione. As he saw her lifeless eyes a deep feeling of desperation took hold of him and he asked himself what reason was left to continue his life.

The answer came to him in an instant. To bring her back. To bring her back to life. He was in Voldemort's lair and Voldemort had been a dark lord. The dark arts were associated with the power of death. From this moment Harry had a new aim. Achieve ultimate control over death. He would return everyone who was taken away from him. Hermione, Sirius and his parents.

Leaving Hermione's body he searched for Voldemort's library and found it soon upstairs. The appearance of the house remembered him of the Riddle's house. The books in the library were strictly organized and Harry had no problems to find the Manual of the Dark Arts. The only book that had an English title in the section 'Dark Arts, referring to death'. That book contained nothing about reanimation, but for that a detailed explanation of the killing curse.

Harry spend a long time in this library, finding a spell which translated the books in foreign languages to English. His essential needs for food and water Harry turned off with some ritual he found in a tome. The description said something about "minor side effects", but it worked fine for him.

After quite some time Harry found something that promised to lead in the right direction. He stood up and went over to Hermione, who he had moved to the library to be near to her and draw strength from her presence. A spell prevented her body from rotting, Harry's first step on the way to his aim.

"Hold on, my love. I'll go down and find out if I found something that might help you", he whispered, unaware that he sounded like Voldemort. He went downstairs where the corpses of the Deatheaters waited for him to put them to good use. The smell of decay and rot didn't bother him, he wasn't even aware of the smell.

He draw his wand and spoke some words in a language too dark to be understood by any sane person. The foul and stale air swirled around and out of sudden was chilling and biting. Groans filled the room as the Deatheaters or better the corpses rose from the floor.

A wave of euphoria rushed through Harry as he felt the energy that connected him with his creations and granted him power of them. "Go, my servants and bring me some girls. Alive!", he commanded his undead servants. He knew that words were unnecessary and his mere thoughts were enough for the command, but this way it had a certain flair.

Following the Undead he returned to the library. He needed to be prepared when his guests arrived.


"Is this the target?", Orillion Gates asked his deputy, Seamus Hunt, who replied with a short nod. It was December and accordingly cold. In addition a blistering storm blew around the house. That was no joke. The storm raged in a two kilometres radius around the house, constantly.

The company of Aurors, twenty men, waited for Orillian's command to attack. The house was the hideout of a band of Undead, but Orillian's sixth sense, that what had made him leader of an Auror company, told him that there was something more.

The Undeads hadn't used magic when they raided a nearby village and kidnapped some girls. And the storm was definitely magical origin. As far as Orillion knew the attack was two weeks ago and around the same time the storm started. Yesterday a second attack had hit the village Little Hallington and three girls had been abducted.

Witnesses had told the Aurors that the house seemed to blink, fading and coming into existence rapidly, and then it had stopped suddenly and the storm had come and with the storm the zombies. Zombies, that's what the muggles called the Undeads.

Orillion didn't fear zombies or Undead in general, except vampires, but he had talked with some Unspeakables and this conversations let him hesitate. The Unspeakables had told him that a crumbling protection spell could be the reason for the blinking. And the storm could be a new protection.

But in the end he had no choice. His order was to find and eliminate the Undead. Even if there was Voldemort himself in there, he had twenty of the finest and best trained Aurors, so what could happen? He commanded to cast warming-charms and then ordered to move forward in close formation.

In a ducked run Orillion and his men needed ten minutes to stand in front of the door of their target. The storm made it hard but not impossible to see something, that's why Orillion saw how the door opened before he finished his blasting curse.

He made out the silhouette of a hooded man who stood in the doorframe, but nothing more. All wizards pointed their wands at the man, though you could say that they aimed in the general direction of the door for the strong wind made it impossible to hold the wands still.

Orillion noticed this disadvantage just before the concealed man addressed him. "You should leave this place. I have no business with the wizard-world, anymore", it came from under the cloak in a tone more icy than the wind.

Still Orillion managed to say, "We are here, because of the Undead and the raid of the village!". He had to scream to overcome the noise of the storm. "My servants retrieved only some things from the world that belonged to me", the man said in a whisper that was clearly understandable.

"But they kidnapped innocent children!", the captain yelled and he sensed how his colleagues grabbed their wands harder. Although he didn't see the man clearly he got the impression that he was laughing. A amused but still icy voice said, "There are no innocents in this world and this world took so much from me that it is my right to claim something back."

Orillion began to understand that this would not end good and nevertheless tried it with diplomacy. "Whatsoever happened to you this is no justification for what your servants did. I demand that you surrender together with your Undead and face the tribunal."

As answer the man vanished and the door closed, yet the Aurors heard the voice mocking, "When your want me to surrender, come and make me." Unexpectedly the storm faded and Orillion gathered his team.

"Okay, lads, will we go in there and get him. Remember this is a double mission. Seek and destroy the Undead and their master and rescue the captives, okay?", Orillion looked in the faces of his squad and found only grim, but determined grimaces who nodded shortly.

After blasting the front-door the whole team stormed downwards in the direction of the groans and moans. Orillion didn't dare to split the team, the hooded man made him nervous. In the cellar he and the others encountered thirteen zombies.

After a short battle with blasting and exploding curses Orillion was proved right. Zombies were no matches for wizards. He was relieved that he found no bones that could belong to children. But he could not be sure because the Aurors left the cellar as soon as possible to escape the smell.

On the ground floor they found only dust and some minor magical traps, nothing to worry about. Orillion relaxed a bit. A mighty dark wizard would have set up more traps. They went upstairs and found a deserted bedroom and bathroom.

Then a scream made them stop. It came from the last room of the corridor. Orillion frowned and addressed Hunt, "Are here any anti-apparition-wards?" "No, the guys from the spell-canceller-troop said that here is only the storm." Gates drifted only a few seconds to the thought why he wasn't informed. Things like that could wait until this was finished.

"Okay, we will make a drop-in. Four men clusters. Like in practise", Orillion ordered. The twenty person formed five groups with one person looking in each direction. Orillion counted from three downwards and then apparated into the room where the captives were held along with his squat.

To his great surprise he wasn't attacked. Nobody was attacked. There were no attackers or aims. He dared to look around. He was in a large room. The walls were shelves that contained tons of books and in front of this shelves stood desks and chairs, at least ten, arranged around something that looked like a duel place.

He and his men stood in this arena and looked around. One after one they discovered the kidnapped girls. Three stood apathetic in corner and one lay on a desk, apparently dead. Orillion heard something that sounded like an invocation, barely audible.

He shouted, "Dispel the magic in this room" and started to yell "Finite Incantatum" at the chairs. When someone dispelled the chair right from the dead girl the cloaked man reappeared. Simultaneously someone lifted the spell that had held the girls captive.

Orillion reacted immediately, "Hunt, get the girls out, the others stun him!" He saw how Hunt and two others grabbed the girls and heard some "Stupify" then he aimed his own wand at the chair and launched his own stunning spell.

Ten red lights hit the man and still he rose his hands and said "Mors" and again "Mors" and again and again. Each time a green coil erupted from each hand. Orillion didn't know what had happened until nineteen members of his team fell to the ground.

Unbelieving he stared at the man. The man stood up and lifted his hood. Orillion looked in the face of the lost Harry Potter and was to flat-footed to say something. That didn't bother Harry. He moved over to Hermione and stroked her face.

"You were good, Mr. Gates, very good, but you made one mistake. You came after me!", Orillion heard the boy-who-lived say. "We destroyed your servants and I will come back to destroy you!", Orillion said and tried to apparate away, but something prevented it.

Harry ignored the threat and the attempt to escape. "Of course you destroyed my ghouls and I'm very glad you did. There is this spell to reanimate skeletons, a very interesting spell, and I craved for an opportunity to test it", Harry showed Orillion still his back, but stopped for a moment to stroke Hermione.

"Oh, how do you like my new killing curse? I find it more useful than 'Avada Kedavra'. The old one takes too long and isn't really effective for it kills only one person at a time, is it?", Harry asked in his normal voice, sounding really interested.

This glimpse of normality brought Orillion back to the situation and he asked the question he should have asked much more earlier, "Why?". "Why?", Harry repeated and chuckled. Suddenly the air turned icy and the storm seemed to enter the room.

Harry faced Orillion and the Auror stumbled backwards from that sight. The human was gone and a demon had replaced him. The green eyes were now greenish balls of fire, the skin was scaly and red. Two batlike wings spread from his back and cloaked his body and a whiplike tail swished behind him.

From one moment to another the former Harry had grown 12 feet tall and the voice was the threatening whisper as it said, "I have done it for her and I will bring her back with the help of this puny girls. And now you wasted enough of my time!" The last thing the Auror Orillion Gates saw was a great, red, scaly claw.


Harry stopped further attempts of disturbing his work by putting a death-field around the house. No doubt, the little humans were entertaining but he had better things to do.

After years of study he was ready, ready for the great day. He had not found, but developed a spell to bring back Hermione as she was before her death. Uncountable hours of reading, hundreds of rituals and days of preparation would fulfill his oath.

He spoke the last words that finished the progress of retrieving the soul, guiding it to the body, reviving the body and mend soul and body together and watched the eyelids of his love flutter.

With a long sigh she opened her eyes, oh, how wonderful she was. Harry took a step back, swaying by the feeling of success. He observed how she sat up and rubbed her eyes like after a long sleep.

Now the moment was near. She would stand up, see him and throw herself on him, kissing him all over and praise him for bringing her back. It was done, he had mastered death and soon he would find a way to create a new body for Sirius and his parents, so he could bring them back, too.

Then Hermione turned her head and saw him and her cheeks that had turned red before, became white as her blood drew back. Then she screamed. Harry tried to calm her down and said, "Hermione, it's me, Harry. I brought you back." But she only jumped up and ran for the door, yelling, "Leave me, you demon!".

But Hermione were mistaken in two things. First Harry wasn't a demon, but a devil and second that she could escape though the door. Harry had locked up.

Harry approached Hermione slowly, wondering what had happened to her. Maybe it was a bit confusing to come back. "Hermione, calm down. It's just me and you", he tried to sooth her, but she only screamed louder.

With that Harry's patience was spend, before he could stop himself he raised a claw and said "Mors". After that everything went dark.


Confused? Don't worry, everything (okay, probably not everything, but most of it) will be explained in the coming chapters.

Thank a lot for your attention and good bye until the next part comes in two weeks or so, Daly