He was lying facedown on the ground again. The hundreds of scents spewing from the churned earth beneath him assaulted his senses. He could see and feel the magic all around him now, even eyes closed. The position of the Marked, the placement of wands, Nagini, Bella-Bitch, and her Master. He could see who was a Werewolf or Vampire, feel the Trolls breath, and the drumming of the Acromantula.
Interrupting his sensory overload, "Grab ahold of your RAGE and act NOW!" came his voice from the ring. Digging in deep, he unleashed every passing negative thought, the fury bottled from his years of "Harry Hunting," of Draco, and Snape, of the Snake-face himself. Magic within flared like never before. The memories of pain and sadness fueled his resolve further. He could feel Bella worrying over Tom, "My Lord ... My Lord." As Tom began to wave her away to stand, his moment to strike came.
Boosted by a sudden influx of magic to every part of his body and years of Seeker skills, rolling his left shoulder over and reaching out with everything he had, "TO ME!" came his call. The Elder Wand was ripped from Tom's grip, flying like a bolt into Harry's outstretched hand. The instant all three Hollows came together, the same bright mist from the platform erupted from him. Not even shock had crossed a single face or hand was raised to cover blinded eyes before he was in action. Rolling opposite, the Cloak's form shrouds him as he stands.
Tom's scream of, "NO! Do not let him escape!" only brought a smile to his lips. "I'm not TRYING to escape Tom." the ethereal voice of Harry Potter intoned, seemingly from the center of the clearing. "DISPERSE YOU FOOLS!" came Tom's reply as visions began to return, yet it was too late. The arms and legs of every living Marked snapped together at once, save one. Before either Tom or Bella could fully stand or react, neither affected by the spell cast, eighty-five headless bodies fell to their knees, torso after torso slumping into the dirt neck first.
Frantically reaching beneath his collar, Tom sought his portkey while standing, wildly scanning his surroundings behind for his familiar, he said, "We must secure Nagini before we escape ..." before turning toward Bella again. If color could drain from his snake face, it would, completely. There stood Harry Potter, in the middle of the Hollow, bringing down what could only be the Sword of Gryffindor, silver piercing through the top of Nagini's skull. His most loyal follower on her knees next to the boy in chains from neck to ankle, wand snapped and discarded to the side. Before the now mortal Dark Lord could again react, his Bane spoke, only, he understood none of it at first.
"Those of you left, answer to ME alone now. You will not leave this Hollow until I've instructed you to do so. You may feast on the remains I leave behind." Beast upon beast bowed low. Addressing the Dark Lord, "You and I will be taking a little stroll with my new pet here, Tom. You might recognize her." Switching to English, he uttered, "Speak,Bella!" Before his very eyes, Tom watched his most loyal and feared follower look up, like a lost puppy, and say, "How might Bella serve you better, Master? Anything you say."
Again he reached for his portkey, trying with all his fury to make it work, failing. The boy smirked! Smirked! To the face of Lord Voldemort, no less! Even without his wand, he is still to be feared. Reaching out, he too tried calling another's wand to him, only for Harry to knock it back with two fingers. "Now, now, Tom, as I've said, we're taking a walk. I've already taken the liberty to acquire a wand for your use if it comes to that. Hawthorn and Unicorn. Ten-inches. It's served me well, after Draco, that is. Come! Sol will be rising soon."
Tom Riddle's mind was racing. How had this happened? In less than five minutes, he went from killing the damned boy to losing every single last member of the Marked AND his dark horde. It made no sense except, "You've come into the Power I Know-Not." He said. It had to be but, what was it?! The walk would let his mind settle and focus. His pride kept him from bolting into the woods like a frightened Kleinkind. So, he followed, thinking through these events.
The amount of power and skill it would take:
-To incapacitate eighty-five full-grown Wizards, let alone behead them?
-To exert control over hundreds of dark beasts from a dozen different species?
-Able to completely break and reshape the mind of someone as insane as Bella Black, making her almost House Elf-like in subservience all in the blink of an eye?
-To counter a summoning done by Lord Voldemort with not but a flick of his wrist?
"It would seem as if Lucius' musings on you becoming an even more powerful Dark Lord came true, Potter," spitting the 'P' as always. "as only one of our kind could act as you have since we both got up." The boys' response unsettled the arrogance he'd begun to build. Keeping his pace towards the Castle Gardens in front of the Great Doors, Harry turned his head over his right shoulder between himself and Bella to look at Tom briefly before facing forward again. "You're right, in a sense, Tom. I expect many would resume their old calls of that.
"Potter is the next Dark Lord! By Rita Skeeter" is a periodically updated story, after all. The damn thing is in the back of every issue and takes up nearly three pages now." He gave a throaty chuckle at the thought. "It matters not what the Sheep think, something I'm sure we agree on, at least. Like it or not, we've both been manipulated by a certain Old Man so he could "Go out on Top," as it were." Nearing the edge of the Garden, he paused in his musings to see its once beautiful blooms now blasted to nothing. Many of the marble columns lining the edges had fallen under their weight and damage. The once breathtaking fountain in the center, reduced to a gurgling of water on the curse-marked grounds.
Continuing to the former fountain, he ceased its futile flow and cleared away much of the debris. Whispering into the ear of Bella, she took the end of the chain and walked meekly to the steps before sitting on the third one. Unable to do more than observe, Voldemort watched. The boy stood stock middle over the former fountain. Eyes closed, his hands came up, palms down when a flex of his fingers caused a ripple to run across the stone slabs. Toms' interest had peeked.
Within moments there was a perfect 9mx9mx3m dueling platform in the center of the former Gardens, complete with steps leading up on all four sides. "It will be a goal of mine to rebuild the Gardens around this dueling platform once reconstruction begins. The school league never should've been disbanded from the beginning." Grubling so, he felt he must admit his agreement through at least a "Hmmph." Harry's nod made clear his understanding. "Dumbledore mentioned you wanted the same when you petitioned for the DADA post some years back and even when you still attended. In the end, we both came to the same conclusion. Take it upon ourselves to train a group of loyalists. Speaking of."
Turning to face the Great Doors by pulling his left leg back with a slight pivot of the right, he softly calls to his pet, "Bella-Dove, come here where it will be safe." Upon completion of his command, chains rattled a storm as she clambered to fulfill his wishes, near running on all fours seating herself under his left hand. With a pat on her head and a "Good girl," he brought his left hand up, thumb extended from his fist, dragging it across his throat like a bar threat. "Defenders of Hogwarts! Unseal the doors and bear witness!" boomed his voice. A massive creak from the locks as the doors opened to meet his proclamation.
"I'll not be an injured bird to your cat, Potter!" spat the powerless Dark Lord as teachers were the first to emerge. His voice returned to normal, "You misunderstand, Tom. I didn't make this for us, weren't you listening? This platform is for Them." Waving his hand over the growing crowd gathering atop the steps before them, students behind staff. Fear and confusion dominated the faces assembled. His address to them was brief, "Like this night before it, the war has ended with the rising of our Home Star. Here before you stands Tom Riddle, mortal once again."
The shock came from the crowd but, Snake-face himself seethed with fury. Spittle flying in his rage, "Not only Nagini, but you've taken my others as well?! I'll KI..." His Bane silenced his Parselspeak with another slight flick before addressing the mute Lord. "Not taken, Tom, destroyed beyond normal repair. Here," came his reply in the same tongue. "have a look for yourself."
A sweep of his hand forms a line of black ooze. From this ooze came five of the Dark Lords' most precious possessions. A diary with a deep gouge in the center. A cracked ring, missing its stone. Slytherins' Locket, open and shattered. Hufflepuffs' Golden Cup, another with a similar hole through it. Finally, the Diadem. Or he could only assume so, based on the still-smoking pile of charred metal. As the ooze vanished, for the first time in his life, defeat dawned on Tom's face.
"You had the GAUL to corrupt FOUR! FOUR of the oldest magical relics in British History, all in your quest for immortality. Well, guess what? Ninety percent of your soul is already burning in Hell." Gasps of shock came from his left. "What remains before me well, let's say we repair some of the Historical damage you've done. The blood and magic of those eighty-five followers you lost shall help too." The sounds made only by multiple fainting teenage girls' could be heard clear as commentary from Lee Jordan. "Really? If that's all it took, you students may want to return to the Hall. I'll need at least Heads of House to remain." chuckled Harry.
Resigned to his coming fate, Voldemort watched in curiosity and wonder at the magic unfurling before him. From the center out, aligned with true North, Harry carved a 1mx1m circle within a triangle, ending in a vertical bisection running North to South. Encompassing the emblem appeared a Runic summoning circle. The intertwining runes reminiscent of his ring wound around the inner edge of the perimeter, seamlessly forming a chain without beginning or end. Around the inner frame, the four relics and one artifact had settled. As Potter once again stood stock in the center of his handiwork, Voldemort assumed his preparations were complete.
Facing true North, he stood with Tom to his rear, the Great Doors his right. While looking at her, he said, "Bella, hide just down there by the steps of the platform and keep low." Hopping over the edge, she curled herself into a fetal squat, not even her hair seen from above. "It disturbs even I how obediently she has become to yourself. From one Master to another, I must say, Bravo. A skill most worthy for the next Dark Lord." Again the boy turns and smirks at him. That stupid fucking lopsided shit-eating grin. No matter, his end is nigh. "Finish this Potter!"
"Granted"
Red filled the eyes of those left watching, only a few coving them on instinct. A small Runic circle appeared beneath Tom's feet, bringing him to his knees, that matched the larger. The Red Rings pulsed as a torrent began to rage around Potter. The objects placed rose around this spells' conductor. Toms' hands flew to his head at this. A feeling of ants chewing the back of his eye-balls, tears of blood fell from them. "Your sight shall go to repair the Diadem, meant to spread wisdom you could never comprehend." Twenty-one drops of blood dropped from an orb of ooze covering chared metal.
A scream from Tom sent shivers down conscious spines. Blood had have seen flooding over his black robes, as his tongue was, ungracefully so, ripped out. " Your taste shall go to repair the Cup, meant for quenching one's thirst, a pleasure that escaped you." More blood droplets on metal. "The Locket held the dying words of Slytherins' Wife from her deathbed, meant only for his ears. Your hearing shall help its repair."
Magic lifted the slumped-over gore-covered form of Lord Voldemort. Twin silver needles appear on either side of his head where a persons' ears would be. They struck their marks true, straight through the drums. A wet wheezing gurgle passed his lips before falling forward again. "The ring was forged by Cadmus, meant so he could show his love for his dearly departed. Never having had the feeling of true love, your touch shall reforge it." His skin blistered and peeled away in sheets, fluttering into the nothingness from the torrent of magic around. Four Relics covered in blood rotated around Harry until the Diary stops before him. Reaching out, he grabbed the tattered book. "I had initially intended on simply killing you once done. However," there's that grin again. "I have a much better alternative before that."
Releasing the Diary, it returned to the rotation. "A diary meant to house a written gestalt, yet you went further. Your smell will reform the pages." The crumpled mess of a Dark Lord rolled over, only to have another pair of twin needles appear, this time above his nose slits, plunging deep into the sinus. One single remaining drop of Marked Blood drips onto the cover. "restitutio ac renovatio, restitutio ac renovatio, restitutio ac renovatio," intoned Harry. "restitutio ac renovatio, RESTITUTIO AC RENOVATIO!" A column of fire erupted amongst the raging torrent, reaching the height of the lowest Castle parapet. Just as quickly as its onset, it was gone.
Smoke billowed low along with dust, covering the platform as the Boy-Who-Lived stood tall, the five restored objects seeming to dance in the air around him. Snatching the Diary, he made to stand over the gore. Laying his entire hand upon the cover, he sang "Figura." Removing his hand and placing it upon the bloodied head of Tom Riddle, he sang "Figura naturalis." Laying hand to cover once more, "Nova figura." Voldemorts' entire body began to convulse and jerk. Standing and summoning his sword to his right, he offered parting words, "Your next adventure will not be pleasant but, let this be an end to you and your ilk. Goodbye, Tom."
A blur of silver glint and a neck no longer had a mass above it.