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
Harry Potter and the Mask of Loki
Over the next few hours of research- showing a diligence that would have made Hermione look inattentive by comparison- the more Harry studied the information available to him, the more he found weight to support his theory as to the identity of R.A.B., each point jotted down on an ever-expanding list as he looked over the facts that he already possessed about the individual in question.
1. R.A.B. referred to Voldemort as 'the Dark Lord'- a title only used by Death Eaters- and Regulus had been a Death Eater for over a year before he was killed.
2. R.A.B. must have been relatively close to Voldemort to have learned about the horcruxes; Regulus, according to Sirius, had 'got in so far and then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out'- could the horcruxes have been the explanation for his withdrawal?
3. R.A.B. would have needed a dark magical background to know about horcruxes; the Black family were so keen on blood supremacy and power that they probably had the book on preparing things like that, even if they didn't actually use the 'instructions' themselves
4. R.A.B. would have needed a secure location to keep the horcrux having taken it; Grimmauld Place had a great deal of wards and protective spells on it even before it became the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix (Besides, even if someone was able to work out that the horcrux was there, how could one specific dark object have been detected amid all the other dark objects in that house?)
5. R.A.B. could not have reached the locket on his own, and would thus have required help from something magical that, at the same time, wasn't a fully-qualified wizard; as a member of the Black family, Regulus could have commanded Kreacher to help him…
And that was as far as Harry had managed to get in his list so far.
He knew what the next step should have been, of course- talk to Kreacher and try and find out what had happened to the locket if his theory was correct- but, having figured out so much on his own so far, Harry preferred to give himself a little more time before throwing in the towel and asking for help, especially from the very thing that had caused Sirius's death, however indirectly.
He just couldn't shake the feeling that there was something that he was missing in his deductions, something important…
"Come on, Harry, think…" he muttered to himself, slapping himself sharply on the forehead to try and help himself concentrate. He wasn't exactly Sherlock Holmes when it came to detective work, but he'd managed to work out how everyone had survived facing the basilisk in his second year, hadn't he? "What have you missed…?"
His 'trick' to focus his thinking didn't really seem to be working; all he found himself thinking about was Ginny, and Sirius, and the fact that it was now almost two years to the day since the first time he stepped inside Grimmauld Place, and had been filled in on the Black family history by Sirius, and helped everyone clear Grimmauld Place of all that crap that had gathered in it over the years… All the old Black family heirlooms that had been thrown out…
Harry's eyes widened.
Reaching into a nearby drawer, he pulled out the false locket (Which he'd deposited in here as soon as he had the chance, not wanting to keep it himself) and stared at it. He'd thought it had seemed slightly familiar when he'd first seen it, but at the time he'd been more concerned with Dumbledore's health after drinking that terrible potion and the subsequent escape back to Hogwarts…
And now he remembered.
When they'd been clearing out Grimmauld Place, one of the more annoying heirlooms (One of the few that they hadn't been able to identify no matter how hard they tried) had been a heavy silver locket that none of them could open. Harry had only seen it for a while before everyone had given it up as a waste of effort and tossed it away.
Now that Harry thought about, he hadn't seen it later on when he and Ginny had taken the box out and thrown it into the nearest fire. Of course, that meant that either the locket had never fallen into the box in the first place, or Kreacher had saved it. Either way, the odds were good that the locket- if it was a horcrux- was still in Grimmauld Place.
There was only one possible detail that Harry had to take account of in his reasoning that could tell against that theory; namely, the possibility that Mundungus Fletcher had found the locket on his little 'raid' after Sirius's death and already sold it off…
"Wait a minute…" Harry muttered to himself, attracting an inquiring look from Fawkes as he got up and began to pace. "Mundungus was selling Black heirlooms in Hogsmeade… he'd just made a deal with the barman… the guy was drawing up his cloak as he began to walk away…"
Coming to a decision, Harry reached over to the table where he'd left the Mask lying earlier. He knew that the odds of his theory being correct were slim to none, of course, but right now Hogsmeade was the nearer location of the two possibilities, and he didn't feel like making the long journey to Grimmauld Place at this time of night.
He placed the Mask on his face, there was a brief swirl of green energy, and then the ever-wacky form of Mark was standing in the study, dressed in a grey sweatsuit with an elaborate assortment of equipment strapped to his back and some kind of gun on his waist that was connected to the backpack via a tube.
"Who you gonna call?" he asked, smiling around at the various paintings in the office. "GHOSTBUSTERS!"
Then he leapt out of the window, spinning even as he left the office, and, when he was outside, he was wearing an red outfit with a long white patch running down the middle and large white wings stretching out from his shoulders. Spreading his wings, he dived down towards the glittering lights that were the main indication of the presence of Hogsmeade. He knew there were faster ways to get to the village, of course- apparation was near the top of the list; he doubted the wards around Hogwarts had been designed to stop a god from getting anywhere- but he preferred the freedom that flight offered him.
A few minutes later, Mark had landed in front of the Hog's Head, spun around to change back into his favoured leather coat, and was walking up to the pub, one hand in his pocket as though concealing something. Raising the other hand, he knocked politely on the door and waited for a moment or two for someone to answer.
Eventually, the door opened and the Hog's Head barman glanced out. Once again, Mark was struck by a feeling of familiarity- change the beard and make the head a bit narrower (among other changes) and it could almost be the face of someone he knew- but he shook it off; he had other matters to attend to right now.
"Yes?" the barman asked, glaring slightly at him. "If you're here for a drink, we're closed."
Mark shook his head slightly. "I'm not here for a 'drink', my good sir," he said, smiling casually at the other man. "I'm looking for a little something that used to belong to the Gaunt family; I have evidence that suggests you may have come into possession of it?"
The man stared critically back at Mark, before raising an enquiring eyebrow.
"And you are?" he asked, looking at Mark's rather remarkable appearance.
Mark shrugged. "I'm just a… concerned citizen, shall we say, who has a vested interest in ensuring that the artefact is recovered," he said, looking at the man. "Trust me on this; it'll be safer in my custody."
The man glared at him briefly, and then sighed.
"All right, come in," he said, sighing as he opened the door of the pub and waved Mark in.
"So, what's so special about this locket?" he asked, looking at Mark inquiringly.
"Well-" Mark began, but then froze and stared at the bartender in confusion.
"I never mentioned a locket," he said, looking at the barman in confusion. "I just said that I was looking for an artefact of the Gaunt family; how could you know what it was that I was interested in?"
The barman just smiled.
"Simple, you green-headed fool," he said, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wand. "I was the one who made this 'artefact' what it was now."
Mark's eyes widened in horror.
"R… Riddle?" he asked, looking at the man in front of him. Even as he spoke, he was kicking himself; heknew from the diary that horcruxes could take people over, why hadn't he thought about the possibility that this one would have done the same?
Maybe because you don't want to remember nearly losing Ginny before you even knew how special she was… a part of him thought, but he threw it to the side; he had other matters right now.
"Don't call me that," the possessed barman growled, as he stared at his nemesis. "If you know anything about me, you'll know that I discarded that name long ago."
Mark rolled his eyes dismissively as he stared back at the barman. He wasn't especially concerned, to be honest; no matter how skilled this guy was, Mark could probably handle him without even having to resort to his 'extra' talents that the Mask gave him. He'd tried a couple of spells while wearing the Mask in Dumbledore's office, and had been interested in noting that the spells were significantly more powerful than they would have been if he'd attempted the spells as himself; he could probably even manage non-verbal magic easily.
He just wished he wasn't about to test this theory in combat…
"So, how'd you do it?" he asked, leaning casually back against the wall as he stared at his new adversary inquiringly. "Take over this guy's body, I mean; I know the diary could do it, but you needed someone to write in that, so how does it work with something like a locket?"
"My soul possesses the user as it is used for what the object in question was originally intended to be used for," 'Riddle' explained as he glared at Mark. "All this man needed to do was wear the locket, and he gave me the access I needed to possess his body and use it for my own. Oh, it was erratic at first, but once he had spent enough time in contact with the locket, I could take him over at any time I wished, my time in charge gradually increasing at my power grew."
"He doesn't know, I take it?" Mark asked, trying to casually slid one hand into the inside coat pocket where he'd left his wand as he stared at 'Riddle'; the fact that his arms were folded would help to conceal the action in question, but he didn't want to provoke Riddle before he was ready to retaliate.
"No, he remains ignorant of my presence in his head," 'Riddle' replied, as he smiled at Harry. "I always time my possessions for moments when he's doing otherwise menial activities; any memory lapses that occur are generally attributed to the generally repetitive nature of the duties in question allowing him to operate in an almost automatic motion."
He chuckled as he glared at Mark. "And now it's time for you to die."
Mark was already a step ahead of him. As soon as 'Riddle' had raised his wand, Mark had whipped out his own and called out "Expelliarmus!" before his opponent could even open his mouth. Unfortunately, the spell didn't quite do what Harry was hoping it would; it struck his adversary, but the force of the spell was so great that, rather than just knock the wand out of 'Riddle's' hand, it sent him flying backwards; 'Riddle' apparently instinctively tightened his grip on the wand as he flew back.
Hitting the wall behind him with an unpleasant-sounding crunch, 'Riddle' slumped to the floor, face first, one arm twisted at an odd angle. Mark began to move forward to take the locket, but as soon as he had moved two steps, 'Riddle' was back on his feet, his left arm tucked into his side as he glared at Mark.
"You're good," he grunted, as he glared at the god-powered young wizard before him. "But you don't have the courage to do what is necessary."
"What, you mean kill you?" Mark asked, smiling casually as he looked at his foe. "I think you'll find that I'm perfectly prepared to do that; I'm not just interested in taking the other guy down with you when I do it."
Raising his wand again, he glared at 'Riddle' angrily. "Now look; either you give up now and I make it quick, or you keep trying this and things get ugly. What's it going to be?"
Evidently, 'Riddle' wans't in the mood for talking; he just raised his wand, pointed it at Mark, and cried out, "Avada Kedavra!" Before the Killing Curse could even reach him, Mark had spun around rapidly once again, reemerging dressed in a blue outfit with gold gloves and a long red cape with gold trim, raised his hands, waved them about in a seemingly random pattern, and suddenly there was a massive shield in front of him that actually blocked the killing curse before it could hit him.
"NO!" 'Riddle' cried, as the shield faded and Mark spun around to change back into his leather coat and jeans. "Impossible!"
Chuckling slightly, Mark spun around again, this time reappearing wearing a black business suit and glasses.
"No, Mr Anderson," he said in a deep voice, as he glared at 'Riddle' through his glasses. "Inevitable."
Then another brief whirlwind changed him back into his more familiar self, and he grinned wickedly at 'Riddle'.
"Still want to tango with me?" he asked nonchalantly, as though he'd done nothing out of the ordinary.
"CRUCIO!" 'Riddle' screamed as he pointed the wand at Mark again. Desperately, Mark dived out of the path of the spell and, raising his own wand, launched a spell at his foe that pinned his legs together and his arms to his side, sending 'Riddle' collapsing to the ground, flat on his front, looking up at Mark with hatred and confusion in his eyes.
"Non-verbal Body-Bind, Tommy m'boy," Mark said, smiling as he pocketed his wand and walked over to his foe. Crouching down, he casually removed the locket from 'Riddle's' neck, and watched as the hatred faded from his eyes to be replaced with confusion; evidently, 'Riddle' was still tied to the locket rather than the host.
"Whatever your name is," Mark said, looking at the man apologetically, "I'm sorry for having to destroy this, but trust me; no matter its value as an artefact, you're better off if I just shatter it now. If you get that, just look up and down, couldya?"
The man's eyes glanced up and down rapidly, and Mark smiled gratefully at him.
"Thanks," he said, as he raid the locket on the ground before him and pulled a large hammer out of his pocket. Raising it above his head, he brought it down hard on the locket, and watched in satisfaction as a green light emitted from underneath the hammer, floating upwards like smoke, before it vanished into the air.
Smiling, Mark slid the hammer back into his pocket, turned back to look at the barman, and pulled out his wand once again.
"Finite Incantatem!" he cried, and the man stood up, although he was still favouring his right arm.
"Th… thank you…" he said, looking at Mark as he panted weakly. "I cannot… be sure what…. has just happened… but I can take… a few guesses. Possession?"
"Of a sort," Mark said, nodding apologetically. "I'll have someone from St Mungo's come over to take a look at you as soon as possible; I'd stick around myself, but, well, I've got some stuff I should maybe be getting along with."
He patted the man reassuringly on the shoulder. "I'll check in with you later, Mr…"
He paused and grinned sheepishly at the barman. "Sorry; I don't catch your name."
"I didn't throw it," the man replied, chuckling slightly. "It's Aberforth, by the way."
Mark's eyes nearly widened and that, but he stopped himself in time; he didn't want to give away any hints as to his identity, and how many people would know about Dumbledore's brother?
He made a mental note to remember to ask Aberforth about the improper charms on a goat at some later date, and then turned around and walked out of the bar.
"See you!" he called back over his shoulder, before he popped out of existence…
And reappeared in Dumbledore's office, looking critically at the headmaster's portrait as Fawkes looked inquiringly at him.
"You couldn't have mentioned that your brother is the Hog's Head barman?" he asked, tapping a foot impatiently as he stared at the portrait. "That might have been nice to know, you know!"
Dumbledore chuckled slightly. "Yes, Aberforth's occupation can be a surprise when you first learn of it, but I assure you that he enjoys his work. Besides, he can be a valuable source of information when required-"
"And yet he never mentioned coming into the possession of an ornate locket?" Mark asked, staring at the portrait critically. "Couldn't he have at least mentioned to you that he was buying things from Mungdungus? He must have known about the Grimmauld Place thing!"
"Even brothers have their secrets, Harry," Dumbledore replied, as he stared critically at the young wizard/technically-god before him. "And are you really prepared to begrudge Aberforth not mentioning things to me when you have not even told your closest friends about your latest acquisition?"
"Anyway," Mark said, changing the subject as he glared harshly at Dumbledore, "what do I do now? Where's the next horcrux likely to be?"
Dumbledore glared at Mark briefly before replying.
"Whatever it is, Harry, you should not go looking for it before you have had a chance to rest," he said, holding up a hand as Mark opened his mouth to protest. "Regardless of what powers you may now possess, you cannot let yourself become too focused on one task, and forget to live the life you possess. You have already made significant progress in the battle against Voldemort; he has only two horcruxes left now. You can afford to take a rest from this 'hunt' of yours and relax."
He smiled slightly as he glanced upwards. "Besides, I feel that your parents would want you to 'get your own back', as I believe the phrase is, on certain individuals."
Mark just nodded thoughtfully as Dumbledore looked at him, but he had to admit, his old friend had a point. Oh, he wouldn't be 'getting his own back' on the Dursleys, of course- just leaving Dudley the way he was would be life without parole- but there were a few others who'd been major pains in the neck recently who he wouldn't mind getting even with…
And it will begin tomorrow evening… Mark vowed to himself smiling broadly at the thought.
AN: I'm planning for Mark to get even with Cormac Maclaggen and Dolores Umbridge in the next few chapters prior to his 'date' with Ginny to set up Ron and Hermione, but if anyone has anyone else they'd like to see humiliated, let me know who and I'll see what I can do