Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any other fandom I manage to squeeze in this story.
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Lightning Dragon's Roar
A Harry Potter Fanfiction
By Zero Rewind
© 2015
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Chapter 43: Skewed
I dodged between two cutting curses with the ease of breathing, before sending out a few low powered Lightning bolts at the source of the casting.
Well, I say "low powered", but the attacks seemed to have completely overpowered the enemy wizard's shielding, before launching him bodily backwards a few feet. He was unconscious.
It was honestly a bit of a change for me.
You know, having the upper hand, for once.
"Crucio!" I stiffened in surprise as the Cruciatus curse enveloped my form, and I felt… nothing.
That's right, the Cruciatus couldn't affect me anymore. Was it because of the Lightning already flooding through my nerves?
I turned around and sent a Lightning Blade at the man. The sword materialized with a snarl, and whizzed through the air at great speed, before stabbing through the man's forearm.
He wailed loudly, dropping to his knees as blood began seeping out of the wound.
He could barely move due to the electricity screwing up his nervous system, but he tried his hardest to pull the sword made out of Lightning out of his forearm.
As soon as he grasped onto it, he let out a loud shriek of pain as the sword dissolved into pure electric energy, invading his body and sending him right into unconsciousness.
Likely, the nerve damage was borderline irreparable, if not lethal in nature.
Not that I was watching him, of course. I was too busy dealing with one of the wizards who was shooting spells at Clark.
Clark, himself, seemed to have no trouble snatching the wands out of the enemy wizards' hands, though he did it very slowly; probably in some effort to avoid being hit by any magic.
Sure, the guy was sturdy as all hell, but he really had no special resistance against the stuff.
In that sense, Clark was about as vulnerable as a Muggle would be. Any well placed curse could cripple, or even kill him, given the right circumstances.
So I helped him out by violently kicking at the Death Eater's kneecap.
My boot slammed into the Death Eater's knee. Said knee bent inwards with a loud snap— the sight looking quite grotesque and making me just a little queasy.
He fell backwards with an agonized yell. He scrambled around, and levelled his wand to me, but I was ready for the obvious retaliation.
I grabbed hold of his arm, and sent a sliver of my Lightning inside of his body. He twitched like a man on the electric chair, before his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Foam was coming out of his mouth.
I made sure to snatch the guy's wand and snapped it clean, throwing it away afterwards, just like I did with every other wizard I beat tonight.
A flash of yellow to my left warned me of an incoming spell. It was some kind of sickly yellow web. It wriggled, and writhed in the air, giving a deadly, venomous aura.
Behind it, stood three wizards, somehow powering the spell simultaneously. The things they could do when they worked together was truly impressive.
Sucked that I had to kill them.
As the web passed by a fire hydrant, I heard a loud, sizzling noise. The yellow energy had literally eaten right through the metal of the hydrant with astonishing ease.
Never mind. Fuck these guys. And their mums.
I breathed in deeply, charging my lungs with large amounts of Lightning.
The yellow web got closer, and closer, and closer until it was a few meters from me.
And then I let her rip.
"Lightning Dragon's Roar!"
I unleashed a wide, bluish white beam of pure, electric destruction. The attack collided with the web head-on, pitting my energy against that of three moderately powerful wand-wizards.
To put it in simpler words, it was like a Sumo wrestler having a strength contest against three much smaller, but still fairly strong men.
We stayed that way for about ten seconds, neither side willing to give any ground.
With a great effort of will, I put in more juice into my Roar, and it finally overpowered the yellow web, before engulfing the three Death Eaters behind it.
Their screams were short, as my attack most likely disintegrated their bodies, if not simply roasted them alive.
I panted with exertion, before regaining my bearings slightly.
That attack took a fair bit out of me. If those three had not been evil pricks, maybe they would have done something useful with their lives. I shook my head slightly, banishing those thoughts to the corner of my mind.
I felt something slam into my back, and flew several feet forward, hitting the concrete floor face-first. The sensation was jarring, dizzying, and quite painful.
I heard an obnoxiously crazy, feminine laugh.
The crazy lady had tagged me with a spell.
This could have been much worse. She could have used a much stronger curse than that, maybe the Killing Curse, even.
And we both knew it. So, why didn't she do it?
I got back up, and traded glances with the nutcase— idly wondering about the rate of insane, homicidal women I've been tangling with over the past few weeks of my life.
Lilith, Anne, and now this chick—let's call her Saggy, because her tits were sagging.
I would have said the sounds of fighting lessened for this epic duel in which I was to participate, but it honestly didn't. If anything, everything sounded even louder than it did before.
Saggy opened up with a salvo of snarls, launching a sickly yellow curse.
Lightning still coursing through my nerves and muscles, I was able to dodge Saggy's attack with incredible ease. She followed up with a Bone-Breaker, and a wide area fire spell.
I grinned, easily dodging the Bone-Breaker, before blasting through the fire with my Lightning.
She Apparated away, reappearing a few meters to the left, my Lightning scorching the wall behind where she used to be.
I ducked bellow a Killing Curse, courtesy of one of the Death Eaters that decided to team up with Saggy to beat me.
I sidestepped a cutting curse from behind. Scratch that. Two Death Eaters and Saggy.
I frowned, this could be a little bad. I chanced a quick glance in Clark's direction. He looked a little cut up, but there were already four men down, their broken wands lying on the cold, concrete floor.
Saggy waved her wand at something behind me. I heard a loud, groaning noise, and turned to see a street lamp swinging right at me.
I had enough time to block the street lamp with my right arm— which was still hidden by bandages. The blow itself did no damage, but the momentum I'd gained from such a heavy object impacting my body was quite considerable.
I was thrown to the side like a ragdoll, smacking painfully into the concrete floor, once more. I quickly got up, checking myself over. Nothing seemed broken. Good.
"Avada Kedavra!" All three wizards called out at the same time.
I was caught in a tight spot— they made sure their positioning was absolutely flawless before sending this finishing strike— so there was only one way to go, for me.
I began running upwards, creating footholds in midair, as if I was running up a staircase.
The Killing Curses slammed into the cars behind me, completely wrecking the chassis of one, and sending the other tumbling back into a building's front door.
As I ran back down, I could see the Death Eaters look at me in an expression of astonishment.
Saggy, however, merely snarled, before casting yet another curse at me. It was some kind of mix between a set of tentacles and green, thorny vines.
It hit my right arm as I sent a few Lightning Bolts at the two other Death Eaters, taking them out of the fight.
Saggy cackled as I landed on the ground. She didn't even bother to continue the fight, looking as though she had already won.
I looked at my arm with a sinking feeling. The vines were still there, trying to dig into my bandaged arm. It was all in vain, of course. My arm was covered in Balthazar's scales, and empowered by my own magic reserves.
Nothing short of armor piercing rounds was going to go through that kind of defense, let alone a bunch of stinking vines.
Saggy stopped laughing when she noticed that nothing happened.
Should anyone really be surprised at what I'm capable of, at this point? Most spells launched at me were met with some form of failure or the other.
Why should this have been any different?
I opened my mouth to make some kind of jungle quip, but closed it as I felt something coming from the house under the Fidelius.
The air around me began to feel a little more damp, a bit more smothering.
Saggy cursed, before Disapparating with a loud crack, right through whatever field was being put up. A few seconds passed, and the field was going back up, once more.
An anti-Apparition jinx— was it Apparition, or Apparation? I never could figure out what the proper terminology was for that particular mode of transportation.
I felt a loud whoosh behind me. I turned to see Clark, who looked a little banged up, but mostly all right.
"You good?" I asked unnecessarily.
"Yeah." The man of steel nodded a few times, checking himself over quickly. "They caught me with some kind of beam that cut me, but I didn't let them hit me with anything else."
On his right arm, there was a shallow gash, evidence of a Cutting Curse striking him. Said gash was closing up right before my eyes. It left nothing behind, not even a scar.
It was amazing, really. Clark had fought around six wizards and dispatched them all without using any magic whatsoever, all the while having no special resistance against whatever spell they might have landed on him.
From what I could tell, he simply kept dodging every single attack they sent at him, before snatching their wands and breaking them like the useless twigs they were.
If, at any point during that fight, he had gotten hit with a Killing Curse, he would have doubtlessly been one of the many corpses that surrounded us.
It was a chilling thought.
"What's wrong with your arm?" He motioned to my currently vined up right arm, looking very trouble. "What.. is that?"
"Dunno. I reckon I shouldn't touch it, though." I stared at the wriggling and writhing vines. "I'm guessing they're supposed to be cutting into my flesh and ripping my arm apart."
"Indeed, that's an ancient curse, lad." I heard a gruff sound come from the direction of Number Twelve.
I turned to see Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody, standing with a veritable score of wizards, all warily pointing their wands at us.
Clark looked in the direction I was looking, his face puzzled. He had definitely heard Moody's voice, but he could not see them.
The group glanced behind us, seeing the dead and unconscious bodies with their wands broken.
Some of the downed Death Eaters began to move, groaning in great disappointment when their eyes found their broken wands, lying next to them.
It made me groan.
I didn't blame Clark for not finishing them off. It was his choice to do so, and I would not force him to do otherwise.
Me, on the other hand…
I counted each recovering Death Eater, and spawned the equivalent number of Lightning Blades, sending the deadly weapons at the, now screaming in terror, enemy wizards.
Their cries were cut short, as each blade buried itself in their backs, right through their where their hearts would be.
A few short, agonized gurgles later, and it was over. The deed was done.
Clark frowned at me, but said nothing. We'd been over this particular subject, before.
It was his choice to spare these scumbags, and it was my choice to kill them.
Wizarding Britain no longer had its police force to combat the forces of evil. The enemy was now the Ministry, itself, with Voldemort pulling the strings from the background.
So I would hold nothing back.
I would be judge, and executioner. Who needs a jury, anyway?
I turned back to the Order of the Phoenix—or whatever remained of it. They were staring at me in a mix of hope, wariness, and outright horror at the atrocity I'd just committed.
I recognized a few of them, off hand. Bill Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks, Fleur Delacour. I nodded to each of them.
"Harry." A familiar man stepped out of the folds of the crowd. It was Sirius Black, my Godfather. He smiled a great big smile, and embraced me with open arms.
"I'm glad you're home. I got your message." My throat tightened at his words.
I had come here expecting the worst. I half thought that Sirius would be lying dead, somewhere. He had never replied to my Patronus, so I had assumed something bad had happened.
I smiled and tightly hugged him back, making sure to keep my right arm away from him. "Me too, Sirius. Me too."
"Black. What're you doing?" Moody said, his tone cautious, his wand still pointed at me. "We don't even know if it's a fake or not."
Sirius broke the hug, and turned to Moody, looking a little incredulous.
"We just witnessed him take out a squad of Death Eaters using his lightning powers. What more do you want?" Sirius said, waving the man off uncaringly. He looked at Clark. "And who might you be? A friend of Harry's?"
"Yeah." Clark extended his hand, and Sirius shook it. "I'm Clark Kent. I met Harry in Metropolis."
"Come on, let's get inside. They'll tell you the secret when we're in." I said, and dragged Clark to the doorway of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.
"Where—"
"Shut up and follow me." I immediately cut him off. He glared slightly. "It will be clear once we're inside of the place."
Clark almost pouted, before nodding in acquiescence.
I heard Sirius say "does that answer your question, Alastor?" and snorted in amusement.
I opened the door and went inside. The group of wizards also followed us in. I went straight to the kitchen, to see Molly, Ron and Hermione.
They all sat tensely, their wands clasped tight, as if waiting for some kind of attack. Most likely the back-up, in case the group of wizards that greeted us failed to defend this safe house.
Luckily, I was there to save the day, so to speak.
"What's with all the doom and gloom?" My voice cut through the silence.
They jumped, startled by the familiar voice, and turned to see me standing in the kitchen's doorway, greeting them as if I had only seen them a few weeks ago— which, to me, was true.
I really had only seen them a few weeks ago, before my trip to the Temen Ni Gru.
"H-Harry?" Hermione asked, as if my presence was an absolute impossibility.
She glanced at Clark, who was standing behind me, and blushed slightly before collecting herself.
"Yeah. It's me." I said, and raised my thorned, bandaged (though the bandages were now falling apart) arm before anyone could dive to hug me. "Careful, I don't know what this will do to you if it touches your skin."
"What happens, Potter." Moody's gruff voice said as he entered the kitchen. I could hear the sound of people shuffling in the hallway, finding places to relax.
"Is that the vines dig into your body, and use your blood as an energy source. They multiply, and multiply, and multiply."
"Until there's nothing left, right?" I could see where this was going.
"Correct." Moody nodded approvingly, before looking at my arm curiously, noticing the black scales underneath the tattered bandages. "However, for some reason, it did not pierce your skin."
"That's because my right arm is special." I said, before channeling lightning into the vines. They writhed, as if in pain, before slowly falling apart, crumbling into ash.
"Dust to dust." I said, grinning, before Hermione dove to me, giving me her usual, strong hugs. I felt her shake against my form.
What was up with that?
She choked back a sob.
"It's really me." I told her. She tried to smile but it came more like a sad grimace.
I hugged her back, making sure to rub circles in her back. I guess she was really worried about me.
Though, by the look on Ron's face as he approached, it might be something wholly different.
He shook his head, letting me know that now was not the time; that we would discuss this in private. I gave a nod, and clasped hands with the redhead, while still holding Hermione, who was finally calming down a little.
She withdrew, sniffling.
"I'm so glad you're back." Hermione said weakly. "It's been horrible, these past few months."
"Yeah, I can imagine." I said, wincing. "Death Eaters were waiting outside."
"Ambushers." Moody grunted, as I received a smothering hug from Molly. "They don't know where this house is, exactly, but old Bellatrix had plenty of childhood memories in this area."
So, the Fidelius wasn't exactly an absolute defense against infiltration if you had basic deductive reasoning. It was something to take note of.
"Bellatrix?" I said, rolling the name in my mouth. "My name for her is better. I'm going to stick to 'Saggy', instead."
A few people in the room snorted, and I could hear Sirius barking out a laugh from the hallway. "I heard that!"
I shook my head, and gave Hermione a final squeeze on her shoulders, before turning to Moody.
"I came as soon as I could. Snape's Patronus said—"
"Snape!?" Ron blurted out. "He's the one that killed Dumbledore!"
Now that gave me pause. Snape killed Dumbledore? It didn't compute.
"No way, man." I denied. "Snape might be a right prick, but he wouldn't do something like that. I don't believe it."
"Well, he did. Saw it, myself. Snape cast the Killing Curse at Dumbledore, and fled the school." Moody confirmed grimly.
I gaped, my mind trying to work through the information given to me.
I shook my head again. "Nah, there has to be another angle to this. Why else would he tell me of what's happening in the UK? He told me that Dumbledore was cursed with some ancient necro-curse, and that he couldn't stop it; that Dumbledore didn't have long to live, anyway."
Moody frowned for a few moments, his one good eye widening in realization.
"It makes sense." Moody acknowledged the point.
"Albus figures he's going to die, anyway." I reasoned patiently. "Why not use it as an opportunity to send his agent deeper in the folds of the Death Eaters by giving him the credit of his supposed defeat?"
Silence met my words. I gazed at every single person in the room. They looked like they wanted to believe my words.
"If he wasn't on our side, still, then why did he tell me about the Taboo that good old V invoked?" I added another nail to the coffin.
"As much as I'd hate to admit it." Sirius said, entering the kitchen and grabbing a quick bite to eat. "Harry might be right. Snape's a right bastard, but I don't think he was ever that bad."
That seemed to settle it for everyone in the room. If Sirius was saying that Snape was with the good guys, then it was probably true.
"So, what's with the Devil Arm, Harry?" Sirius asked nonchalantly, conjuring up a few seats for himself, Clark and I. We sat down gratefully.
Clark had not said a single word the entire length of the conversation.
"Got it in Temen Ni Gru, actually. About half an hour after you left." I said, pulling out the pure black Falchion with a flourish. "This, is Erebus, the—"
"Emperor of Darkness!" Sirius finished for me, eyes wide in amazement.
"You know of me, mortal?" Erebus rattled slightly. Sirius stiffened slightly, before shivering, as if touched by an unseen wind. "Ah, I see. You are Oberon's descendant."
"You guys lost me." I said, voicing the thought of everyone else in the room. "Let's start with introductions. Guys, this is my sword, Erebus. Yes, he talks."
Clark coughed to get my attention.
I waved at him. "Oh, right. This here is Clark Kent. He's my hired lackey. My brainless thug, if you will. The mindless muscle. He's there to lift heavy things and—"
Clark scowled and glared daggers at me, but there was no real bite in it. I merely smirked back, before turning to the others, who were simply staring at me in astonishment.
"Harry, how—"
"The 'how' isn't important." I said, not wanting to talk about Erebus' bag of tricks. Just thinking about my mother's voice caused my heart to tighten up. "I beat Erebus at the Temen Ni Gru, and he pledged his allegiance to me."
I took a wild guess and figured that Oberon was probably Sirius' ancestor, and that Erebus' powers are linked to the magic that Sirius used.
"Speaking of." I continued. "Where is Tristan, in all of this? I figured he'd be leading the fight against V."
Everyone shifted uneasily.
"He.. Went crazy." Sirius said somberly. "You know, how he was always unstable, mentally. He lost to his dark influences after something V did to him. I don't really know what happened, but Tristan ended up killing a few of our members before realizing what he'd done. He Apparated away, just then. We never heard from him again."
I sat, taking in the information calmly. Sirius filled us a few glasses with water, and held them in front of me.
I took the offered glasses, handing one to Clark as I did so.
I took a quick drink, the cool water rushing down my dry throat, the sensation extremely soothing.
"After that, it was a loss after a loss, after a loss." Moody continued where Sirius left off. "People started disappearing left and right, just like before. But someone— other than us— is fighting back."
That got my attention.
"Yeah?"
Moody nodded. "We don't know who it is, though. We know it's a man, possibly in his late teens, early twenties. Fights with Earth magic."
Earth magic. Could it be?
"Fights quickly, efficiently." Moody said with a ferocious smile. "Doesn't leave anyone alive. He even wounded The Dark Lord. They've been calling him the Iron Rock."
Woah, now that was impressive.
"But he's only one man. We have to pitch in, when we can. Protect the masses from the Death Eaters, and all. Maybe launch a few offensives, when we can. But we're stretched too thin, as it is. Worse yet, the Red Court of vampires have been actively hunting down wizards."
I nodded, mind working furiously. Neville was fighting openly? Granted, no one seemed to know who it was, so he might have been camouflaging himself, somehow.
And the Red Court of vampires was also in on this? A half remembered passage in a text book came to mind. The Red Court vampires were monstrous creatures, who disguise themselves as humans through the use of what is referred to as "flesh masks".
I'll let you think on that, for a few moments.
"How's Neville?" I asked Ron nonchalantly. He blanched at the question, and didn't answer.
"Poor lad." Moody answered for the boy, looking immensely regretful. "They sent his grandmother to St-Mungo's. Over-exposure to the Cruciatus."
Just like his parents were. Holy fucking shit.
"Who did it?" I asked calmly, steel in my tone.
"Same batty lady you fought with tonight. Bellatrix Lestrange." Moody informed me.
The woman who drove his parents to insanity did the same to his grandmother? A surge of indescribable rage passed through me. I should have torn her apart with my bare hands.
My Lightning started acting up, and I fought to rein it back in.
"You mean she was in my grasp and I let her go?" I asked no one in particular, feeling ashamed and angry beyond imagining.
"Harry." Clark's steely voice cut through my rage. We looked each other in the eye. "It was twelve on two. Plus, there was no way you could have known about it."
I blinked once. Then twice. Then three times. Then, I took a deep breath, and funneled my anger elsewhere.
Clark was right. I didn't even know who I was fighting, so how could I blame myself for not killing her while I could?
My heart, however, seemed to disagree with my head, judging by the knots that were forming.
"Next time I see her, she's Dead. Dead with a capital D." I said harshly, before turning to Sirius and Moody.
"You'll be happy to know that Daphne's safe and sound." Sirius tried to change the subject. I nodded, filing the information away with a cold, methodic manner.
It wasn't that I didn't want to see Daphne, but I had a mission, first.
I would get plenty of time to get together with Daphne after I beat Voldemort.
"At least something's going right." I said, and took another sip of water, before getting back up. Clark followed suit. "I'm going."
"Going where?" Ron said. "You just got here."
"Would be a great help for the troops if they saw you." Moody hinted.
Sirius merely gazed at me speculatively.
"Look, guys." I sheathed Erebus and ran my hand through my hair. "I'm not Dumbledore. I never will be. I want to get this over with so I can go back to living my life."
"Get what over with?" Ron repeated, his mind connecting the dots. "You can't possibly mean—"
"What else could I mean?" I cut him off, a savage grin on my face. "I'm going to end the war."
"I'm going to kill V."
"Bit of a tall order, isn't it, boss?"
"Shut up, Erebus."