Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all other characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this version of the Mask belongs to New Line Cinemas; I'm just using them for this story.
Feedback: I'd appreciate it, believe me
AzureSky123: Sorry, but that won't be happening; Mark will have some fun while targeting the horcruxes, but when push comes to shove, Voldemort's death will be totally serious
Kaladelia Undomiel: Glad it went down well, and I assure you, the Mask will be as loyal to his friends as Harry is
Dumbledork: Just a little bit of stuff to get through first, and then the Mask will be kickin' ass, I assure you
Sean Malloy-1: I'm saving speculation about how they'd react for nearer the end (Oh, and I'll update 'Lazarus' as soon as possible)
Harry Potter and the Mask of Loki
… And appeared in an alleyway off a quiet street on the outskirts of London.
Harry smiled in relief; at least he'd remembered enough details about what he'd seen in the pensieve to pick a good location to Apparate to. As things currently stood, he was far enough away from the orphanage that he shouldn't' have triggered any alerts Voldemort might have left there, but close enough so that it wouldn't take him ages to walk there.
And, best of all, the sun was so low in the sky that it should set soon, allowing him to use the Mask to deal with any defences that might be located around the horcrux.
Slipping the Mask under his jacket and his wand up his sleeve, Harry stepped out of the alleyway and began to walk down the street, smiling fondly at the surroundings; he may have never actually been here himself, but his brief 'visit' to this location in Dumbledore's pensieve had been pleasant enough in its own way. True, the street had changed a lot over the last few decades, but some details never changed …
Wait a minute, Harry thought to himself, as he stopped, staring at the sign in front of him.
He'd been pretty sure that the orphanage had been located just before this sign.
He walked back a few steps, and stared at the buildings in front of him.
Nothing; not even a pile of rubble remained to mark the spot where the orphanage had once stood. Just two blocks of flats, each one here when Tom Riddle had lived here all those years ago, still standing exactly where they had before, but with nothing in between them.
But there had to be a horcrux here; it just wouldn't make sense for Voldemort not to leave it in this location. Practically nobody else would know about this place; you'd need to know tons about Voldemort's past to pull this off, and nobody really knew anything about that apart from Dumbledore, as far as Voldemort would know…
Then it clicked, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle slightly at Voldemort's latest move.
"The Fidelus Charm…" he muttered to himself, a slight smile on his face as he stared at the line between the two buildings. He had to admit, that was a smart move of Voldemort's; whatever horcrux was kept here was simultaneously kept in the most obvious location, and was the hardest one to find.
After all, no wizard alive could get through the Fidelus Charm without information from the Secret-Keeper…
Fortunately, Harry had the Mask. No matter what kind of a defence the Fidelus Charm was against wizards, Harry was prepared to bet he'd be able to think of something he could turn into with the Mask that would let him get through the Charm.
Glancing up at the sky, he smiled slightly in relief as he saw the sun finally begin to sink over the horizon. Ducking into a nearby back street, he pulled out the Mask, raised it to his face…
And then, a brief spin later, Mark Tiller was standing in the middle of the street, dressed in a green tunic, a long green hat, and white leggings, with long blonde hair hanging down over his forehead, a blue shield on his back, a large sword in his right hand, and a magnifying-glass like object in his left.
Looking down at himself, Mark smiled. He had to hand it to Dudley; the kid may have been an idiot, but at least he'd enjoyed kicking monster arse on Legend of Zelda; Harry would never have had this idea otherwise. True, the Lens of Truth had never been used against something like the Fidelus Charm in game continuity to the best of his knowledge, but it seemed to be his best bet.
Raising the Lens to his left eye, Mark chuckled as he saw the old orphanage standing in front of him. It seemed a bit more neglected than when Harry had seen it in the pensieve- some ivy on its walls in places, that sort of thing- but nothing major; it all seemed reasonably intact.
The glass still up to his eye, Mark walked towards the orphanage, opened the door, and stepped inside, putting the glass in his pocket as he did so; once inside the building, the Charm was apparently void.
Looking around the hall, Mark was slightly saddened to see how far it had fallen in the years. It had seemed such a pleasant little place when he'd seen it in the pensieve, and now it looked like the 'Before' stage on some of home makeover shows his aunt had sometime watched, only worse.
Sighing slightly at the waste of potential, Mark began to walk down the nearby corridor, hoping that his memory was serving him correctly; if he was right, this was the way to Tom Riddle's old room in the orphanage. It seemed the most logical place to leave the horcrux…
Then, as he rounded a corridor, he felt a brief tinge in his right leg, and suddenly found himself standing on a thin beam stretching over a deep hole in the ground, fire blaring out of the pit at random intervals a certain distance away from the beams. Evidently their main purpose was to startle rather than kill, although what that would accomplish Mark wasn't entirely clear on.
Mark sighed in annoyance; evidently, Voldemort had set up some kind of security system that was triggered if someone came for the Horcrux who wasn't him.
"Ah well; at least this probably means I won't have to drink a bunch of crap to get the horcrux out," Mark said to himself, as he looked at the pole before him. Theoretically, one person could do this on their own if they had good balance and could run fast enough, but Mark couldn't be sure that there wouldn't be some extra twist that he hadn't seen yet. After all, those flames looked pretty dangerous, but there'd have to be something else here that would heal any damage that they might cause to an invader. As Dumbledore had said, Voldemort would want to question anyone who made it this far to find out how they knew about the horcruxes.
To be safe, he pretended to stumble off the beam, then briefly span around in mid-air before reappearing, this time covered in flames and a skin-tight outfit that somehow wasn't getting incinerated by the fire, hovering in mid-air.
"YES!" Mark yelled, as he flew up towards the ceiling and flew on down the corridor, his eyes fixed on the door at the end of the corridor that opened onto the stairs that would lead him up to Riddle's old room…
Then he saw it. True, it was now only a 'door' in the sense of being a hole in the wall- the actual door seemed to have fallen off its hinges and now be lying on the ground near the bottom of the stairs- but it was still there…
As soon as Mark got close to it, he sensed, rather than felt, something begin to fly through the air towards him, apparently some kind of disc from what he could see out of the corner of his eye. Instinctively, Mark raised the temperature of his now-flaming body to such a degree that the metal disc was instantly vaporised,
Tearing through the door, Mark braked sharply in mid-air, rotated ninety degrees in the air so that he was pointing upwards, and then flew up towards the second landing, touching down on the ground and spinning again.
This time, Mark reappeared dressed in black trousers and shoes, a gold shirt with long gold sleeves, black shoulders, and a black neck, and a strange visor covering his eyes. He knew there were probably better options for checking the area for magical defences than this, but he couldn't think of them off the top of his head, and he didn't want to risk having Voldemort show up to find out who had found the horcrux. When he'd taken out the last four horcruxes, then he'd worry about facing Riddle; right now, he had other proverbial fish to fry.
He smiled slightly; there was nothing in the corridor that would attack him, but a magical shield was over the door, presumably of the same kind that had protected the last horcrux.
Sighing, Mark spun around again, reappearing dressed in a red-and-green pullover, brown trousers and shoes, and a long brown glove with sharp metal claws on his right hand. Raising his left hand, Mark drew a brief line across the palm of his hand and grasped the door handle, sighing sadly as the door opened. Dumbledore was right; Riddle really did have VERY little imagination when it came to defences.
Entering the room, Mark sighed with relief as he saw the horcrux that he had come here for. It was in the middle of the room, apparently unprotected, standing nonchalantly in the middle of a table.
It was a golden cup, with the mark of a badger on it that signified that it had once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff.
Mark sighed in relief; at least that part of the proceedings had gone to plan. True, it did mean that there was still a horcrux out there that he couldn't identify, but at least that was one of them down.
Now all he had to do was to get out of this place, confirm that it was what he thought it was, figure out how to destroy it, and all would be well.
Mark reached out with his unclawed left hand, picked the cup up by one of its handles…
An suddenly, something rammed into his bag, making him strike the table in front of him with such force that all the air was forced out of his lungs.
Gasping for breath as he collapsed to the ground, the horcrux still clutched in his left hand, Mark rolled around onto his back and lashed out at whatever was holding him with his clawed right hand…
"Damnit," he muttered, as his eyes fell on what was holding him down.
Like the last time, it was a mass of Inferi, piling on top of him as they scrabbled towards the horcrux clasped in his hand. The claws on his hand had caused some scars on the faces of the nearest Inferi, but, like when he'd tried to use the Sectumsepra spell on the ones guarding the locket, it had no effect.
Tensing, Mark closed his eyes, focused, spun around again where he lay pinned onto the ground, throwing several Inferi off him, and, when the spinning stopped, he was once again his own Human Torch.
"Time to show you bastards just what I can do," he said, as he drew back his hand and threw fireball after fireball at his foes, smiling gleefully as they all burst into flames before him.
As soon as he had the space to do so, Mark leapt into the air, flew out of the room, back into the stairs, and then began to tear up towards the roof, a mere two stories above him, gradually increasing his heat as he moved further upwards…
He crashed through the fragile remains of the roof, destroying what the sheer heat that he was generating hadn't already incinerated. As soon as he was out, he smiled and spun again, reappearing as a figure dressed in black with a red helmet and cloak and a small red rod in his hand.
Grinning in approval at the outfit- the Torch had been a bit too noticeable for him at the moment-, Mark flew up into the air and charged through the air, not stopping until he'd reached a hill on the outskirts of the town. Landing on the ground, Mark checked his hand, and was pleased to see that, in all this time, he'd managed to retain his grip on the horcrux.
Tossing the cup up into the air, he spun around one last time, emerging dressed in a black leather coat over the jeans and shirt Harry had been wearing before putting the Mask on, then catching the cup by the other handle as it headed back towards the ground again.
Chuckling as he looked at the horcrux, Mark clenched one fist and punched the air in triumph.
"Y-ESSSSSSS!" he yelled, as he stared at the cup in his hands.
Then his face hardened as he reached into his pocket and pulled a magnifying glass out of his pocket. It resembled the Lens of Truth he'd used earlier, but this glass was a little something he'd used the Mask to create. It told Mark whether or not he was looking at something that held within it a fragment of Voldemort's twisted excuse of a soul, or if all he was looking at was a fancy replica, much like the locket he and Dumbledore had found a month ago.
He grinned; the cup was glowing with a combination of green and black that, through the glass, identified it as a horcrux.
Slipping the glass back into his pocket, Mark placed the cup on the ground, stepped back a few paces, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a large shotgun that he then levelled at the cup.
"Say hello to my little friend…" he whispered in a slight American accent, glaring harshly at the horcrux as he squeezed the trigger.
Thrown back slightly by the recoil- so different from using a wand- Mark watched with a satisfied smile as the horcrux shattered under the bullets.
One down, three to go.
Then Mark sighed as he slumped down onto a large nearby rock.
If only he could figure out who R.A.B. really was…
Then he sighed, stood up, stretched, and looked around at the hill he was standing on.
"Well, still got a good few hours before the sun rises; might as well get down to business," he said, smiling as he spun around, reappearing as a tall figure dressed in green-and-yellow spandex with red hair.
"Better ge' movin'," he said, chuckling slightly at his new Irish accent before leaping up into the air, a light screech just audible from him as he flew through the sky towards his next destination.
Right now, he had to talk things over with the only person he could guarantee knew just as much about the situation as he did…
Albus Dumbledore.
Or, more specifically, his portrait.
AN: Just in case anyone wants to know, the characters Mark turns into here are, in order, Link from The Legend of Zelda, the Human Torch of the Fantastic Four, Geordi LaForge of Star Trek: The Next Generation, Freddy Krueger from Nightmare on Elm Street, the Torch again, Starman from DC Comics, and, after a brief time as nobody in particular, he turned into Banshee from X-Men.