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
"WHAT?" the VoldeMask roared, glaring at Harry, clearly unable to believe what his foe had just said to him. "You dare- you dare- to call me a coward? When I stand here, ready to destroy you at a moment's notice-"
"Because of a magical mask that enhanced your abilities to a point where any attempts to do any kind of damage to you in a fight are pretty much pointless?" Harry retorted, glaring at the VoldeMask as he slowly staggered back to his feet; if this strategy didn't work, he'd die standing, not lying on the ground like he was a victim. "Not exactly much of a victory, is it? I mean, you're using the power of a god to deal with a student; that seems just a bit excessive to me, really…"
"You dare-" the VoldeMask continued, raising one hand to point at Harry.
"Repetitive and afraid of a straight fight; not really a good combination for a self-proclaimed 'Lord', is it?" Harry retorted, grinning slightly at his foe. "Face facts, Tom m'boy; you're afraid of me. We've only ever fought once face-to-face up until now- that graveyard encounter after you got your body back, remember?- and even then, you couldn't actually do anything to me; all you could do was keep me occupied until I got away."
"That 'victory' of yours was a fluke at best," the VoldeMask growled, his hand still raised as he glared at Harry. "You won't have another-"
"Are you sure it was only a fluke the last time?" Harry inquired, trying to sound polite despite the nagging pain in his side; he really hoped Voldemost would act like he thought he would, otherwise he'd have a serious problem when the fight started up again. "Just, the way I see it, you automatically using something like the Mask against me- something that significantly enhances your magical powers- rather than fighting me using only your own, natural magical abilities? Maybe it's just me, but it kind of suggests that you're… well, that you're afraid I'll manage to beat you."
"Beat me?" the VoldeMask laughed, lowering his hand as he stared incredulously at Harry. "Look at yourself, Harry James Potter; you can barely even walk right now! What makes you think you could ever defeat me?"
"Maybe you're unbeatable now… but what about without the Mask?" Harry retorted, crossing his fingers behind his back as he stared at his opponent. "Quick question about your use of the Mask here, Tom m'boy; could you have killed me without it, or did you need the Mask to win?"
For a moment, the VoldeMask hesitated, not even responding to Harry's use of his original name, and Harry grinned.
Jackpot.
Just like he'd suspected, like he wouldn't have used a Philosopher's Stone to achieve immortality because he didn't want to be dependent on the Elixir of Life, Voldemort would hate the idea that he needed the Mask to win a fight with any opponent…
"Oh, you could kill me right now, I'm not denying that," Harry continued, desperately resisting the temptation to wince in pain; the slightest sign of weakness and the VoldeMask would use that to his advantage. "You could kill me in a matter of seconds with the Mask… but even after I'm dead, you'd always be wondering; Did you need the Mask to win?"
The VoldeMask was silent for a moment, and Harry continued. "It's a simple question; did you need an object as powerful as the Mask to defeat a seventeen-year-old wizard who isn't even fully qualified yet, or could you have done it without the Mask's power 'backing you up'?"
As the VoldeMask remained silent, Harry held up his hands in a position of surrender, and directed a small, inquiring smile in his foe's direction. "What's it going to be? Beat me with the Mask and never know whether you could have done it on your own, or try and take me on in a fair fight… without that particular little 'extra'?"
For a moment, there was silence in the great hall as the two enemies stared at each other, Harry ready to make a move if his 'strategy' turned out to have been the wrong idea…
Then the VoldeMask growled and raised a hand to point at Harry.
"I will never be accused of needing anything, Potter!" he yelled, as he pointed a finger at Harry. "Episkey!"
Instantly, Harry suddenly found himself feeling perfectly healthy once again; indeed, if it weren't for the fact that he was still pretty much covered in blood, he could almost swear he'd never been beaten up in the first place.
Despite himself, he had to admit to being impressed at the power the Mask gave the user; to give a spell intended to heal minor injuries the power to heal all the damage he'd taken?
No two ways about it, that was impressive…
Then he heard the screams of agony that indicated that the Mask was being removed from its current wearer's face, and he grinned.
He'd done it.
Voldemort was no longer accessing the powers of a god; he was just using the powers of a normal wizard.
Now all he had to do was use the fact that Voldemort was no longer as powerful as he'd been earlier and hope that it made enough of a difference for him to win this fight; even without the Mask, Voldemort was hardly going to be a pushover…
Tensing himself, Harry kept his gaze fixed on Voldemort, waiting for the moment when the Mask would be totally clear of Voldemort's face- it seemed to be taking far longer for Voldemort to get the thing off than it had ever taken Harry, maybe because Voldemort had more fundamental control over the Mask than Harry ever had- even as he slipped his wand back up his sleeve; having it available would be useful, but he wasn't going to start the fight using it.
As soon as the vortex around Voldemort faded, Harry seized his chance; before Voldemort could even reach for his wand, Harry had ran forward as fast as he could and launched a powerful punch at his opponent's chin, sending Voldemort staggering back momentarily. As Harry yanked Voldemort's wand out of his right hand and tossed it off to the side- he wasn't going to allow Voldemort even the slightest chance of using a spell- the most hypocritical wizard of the century could only stare at the young man before him, a shocked expression on his face as he tried to take in what had just happened.
"Surprised, Tom?" Harry asked, looking scornfully at his long-time foe as his opponent's wand clattered silently in one corner of the hall. "Did you honestly think I'd stick to using magic against you? Snape may talk about me being arrogant until he's blue in the face, but I'm at least practical enough to know when I'm 'outgunned', as some might say."
Knocking the Mask out of Voldemort's left hand and off to the side before the self-proclaimed 'Dark Lord' could put it back on again- he hadn't been able to reach it earlier, and Harry would prefer to try his luck without the Mask for the moment; he didn't want to use the Mask unless he was sure he'd need it, there was no point becoming overly dependent on the thing- Harry instinctively shifted his body into a combat stance, raising one hand and beckoning at Voldemort with his fingers.
"You want a piece of me?" he asked casually, as he looked at the man who'd ruined his life. "Come and get it with your hands… if you're gutsy enough."
Evidently, that particular comment, childish though it was, was enough to get through Voldemort's last nerve; roaring in rage, he charged towards Harry, lashing out with a rapid (If evidently amateurish) punch that Harry nimbly dodged, before retaliating with a quick blow of his own that struck Voldemort's cheek.
Here we go, Harry thought to himself, a small smile on his face as he stared at his old enemy.
Almost sixteen years after the first spell was thrown in their long conflict, the final battle between the two adversaries had begun.
As they apparated on the outskirts of the Hogwarts grounds, Remus once again found himself wishing that they'd managed to capture Pettigrew that fateful day in the Shrieking Shack all those years ago; not only would Sirius most likely have been cleared long before now- Hell, he might even have still been alive if he'd not been so frustrated at needing to stay locked up for almost a year- but Remus would also have the comfort of knowing that he might be able to offer his allies some alternative routes into the school that the Death Eaters wouldn't have known about.
There were definitely times when Pettigrew's treachery could be frustrating for far more reasons than just the fact that his actions had resulted in Remus losing James and Lily for good and Sirius for twelve years all in one night…
But, right now, as Remus glanced over anxiously at his current allies- Tonks, Hagrid, Shacklebolt, Moody, and Arthur, all with their wands drawn and looking anxiously ahead of themselves- he couldn't stop himself feeling somewhat proud of their resolve against such seemingly impossible odds.
Here they were, a mere six, preparing to attack Hogwarts itself and take on a mass of Death Eaters, simply to try and rescue four young adults from the most feared dark wizard for almost three hundred years.
Admittedly, some of their other members were attempting to contact the official aurors at the Ministry of Magic to get some extra assistance, but for the moment, at least, it was still going to just be them against the Death Eaters, with no guarantee that the people they were trying to rescue were even still alive…
Well, Remus mused to himself as he stared at the castle before him, if I'd wanted an easy life, I would have just had myself killed a long time ago and escaped the pressures put on me by my lycanthropy.
"Right then," Shacklebolt muttered, looking in a focused manner back at the others; as the most senior auror in their current 'attack force' (Moody being officially retired), he'd been unofficially appointed the leader of their little group. "We'll have to take this at three different angles if we're going to get into this place; the more angles we use, the more chance we have of escaping detection. Since we don't know what secret passages the Death Eaters might know about, our best chance would be to cover some of the lesser entrances to the school itself- probably covering three entrances in groups of two- and try and take out any guards there before they can send a signal to the others. Our main objective is to find the children and get them out of there, but if we have the opportunity to take any prisoners, so long as we're sure we can get them out of there, we take it, OK?"
"Seems sensible," Moody said, nodding briefly at Shacklebolt before he looked back at the castle. "I'll go with Rubeus and take the Quidditch entrance; Kingsley, you'd better stick with Tonks and try for the greenhouses; Remus can go with Arthur and see what he can do about the lakeside door. Agreed?"
"W-well… a voice commented from behind them, sounding like its owner was shivering so hard that his teeth were chattering together, "I do have a-a-another idea to g-g-get you in, i-if you're i-interested…"
Remus's eyes widened in rage.
"Wormtail!" he roared, spinning around towards the voice just in time to walk directly through his gathered allies and grab the traitor by the collar, hauling him up into the air as he aimed his wand at the rat animagus; he barely even stopped to think about how Wormtail had come this close without any of them noticing, although it was most likely that he'd used his rat form. "You filthy traitor-!"
"W-wait!" Wormtail protested weakly, sounding like he was almost choking as he looked down at his old friend. "I didn't… c-come here… to f-fight! I c-came here… to try… and help you…"
"You?" Arthur's voice said from behind Remus; out of the corner of his eye, the werewolf noted that his allies were also pointing their wands at the small wizard he held up in one hand, although none of them were casting any spells at the moment. "You want to help us? After you spent twelve years hiding among my family because you were afraid- hell, after you gave your master back his body- now you say you want to help us?"
"Y-yes…" Wormtail whispered, looking anxiously over at the man whose family had taken him in when they thought he was only a rat. "P-please… I set Harry free… he's fighting Voldemort… the others are t-t-trying to get out of the c-c-castle… but Harry c-can't do it alone… he needs help… the others need help… they're t-t-taking a back way out that s-should be safe… b-but you have to g-get them o-out…"
"Give us one good reason why we should trust you?" Shacklebolt asked, aiming his wand at the centre of Wormtail's face. Staring back at the man at the other end of the wand, Wormtail swallowed anxiously- to his credit, he was still managing not to complain about the evident lack of comfort in being held up by his robes- and finally spoke.
"B-because if I'd d-done nothing, you'd be n-no worse off th-than if you t-t-take m-my advice," he said, fear blazing through his eyes like a lumos spell as he turned to look at Remus. "And b-because… I owe H-Harry my l-life."
Remus's eyes widened momentarily at that comment, but he quickly got himself under control as he continued to glare at his friend, turning over what he'd just heard as the rest of the group stared silently at him, waiting for him to decide whether they should believe a man who'd betrayed their side already.
If it had been anybody else in Wormtail's position, Remus would have been perfectly happy to lock them up until they could get some veritaserum to determine how honest they were being about everything.
But, even after everything he'd done to them, Remus Lupin still knew Peter Pettigrew better than anybody else alive, and knew very well that Wormtail couldn't lie to save his life; his pitiful attempts to do in the Shrieking Shack had been proof enough of that, if nothing else.
Oh, the rat Animagus had successfully kept the fact that he was the traitor in the Order of the Phoenix secret from everybody else, but that was more of an omission than an actual lie; if someone had actually said to him "Are you spying on us for Voldemort?" he wouldn't have been able to keep the truth secret for longer than a few seconds.
Right now, everything he could see of Wormtail made it clear to Remus that Wormtail wasn't lying to them about what was apparently happening inside; Harry was fighting Voldemort while the others tried to escape, and Wormtail genuinely wanted them to get out.
Lowering the traitorous former Marauder back onto the ground, Remus stepped back to look at his old friend, his wand still raised in case the rat animagus should try to transform.
"Just remember this," he said simply, as he stared coldly at the rat animagus. "If you've betrayed us this time around, I will not rest until I have caught you, trapped you in your rat form, and locked you up in a secure room… with me… on the night of the full moon… when I have not taken my potion. Are we clear?"
Wormtail nodded shakily as he looked back at the werewolf.
"Good," Tonks said, stepping forward to haul the small wizard back up onto his feet. "Lead on, little man; just remember that, if things go pear-shaped, you're the first one who's going to end up dead. Clear?"
"Y-yes," Wormtail said, nodding briefly before turning back to look at the school before them. "C-c-come on; there's still one p-p-passage that none of t-th-them know a-a-about; we can get into the s-s-school from th-th-there."
"Which one is it?" Remus asked, looking critically at Wormtail as the seven of them started walking. Hagrid, as the most magic-resistant of the group, took the lead, with Wormtail and Remus just behind him.
"Oh, it's th-th-that one leading to the p-p-p-painting of 'The Wedding Night'," Wormtail replied, looking back at his old schoolfriend with a small smile. "Re-re-remember it, R-Remus?"
Despite the dangerous situation they were currently in, Remus chuckled slightly at the memory of that passage; the painting in question was kept in one of the lower dungeons, and none of the Marauders had ever been sure why it was even allowed in a school, but they'd all found the content highly amusing once they'd reached their teens and had a better idea of what they were looking at.
How anyone managed to get the subjects to pose for a painting like that- or, indeed, who the subjects were- was one of the minor mysteries about Hogwarts that kept Remus wondering to this day…
And, for a moment- only a moment, but the thought was there nevertheless- Remus found himself remembering the way things had been back when he'd just thought of Peter Pettigrew as his friend, rather than as a traitor.
Who knows? Remus mused to himself, as they walked further into the Hogwarts grounds. Maybe once this is over and he's in jail, I might start to think about paying him a visit…
His actions here didn't totally make up for betraying Lily and James all those years ago, but it was a step in the right direction at least.
Throughout his life, Harry had never used hand-to-hand combat in a fight against any of his enemies. When it came to Dudley and his gang (Assuming they could actually be called enemies, given that they just picked on him rather than actually trying to kill him), he'd tended just to try and stay out of their way so that he wouldn't get in trouble for accidentally hurting 'Dudders'. As for after he'd joined the wizarding world, all his fights had been against opponents armed with wands, and, since they'd never allowed him to get close enough to attack them physically, he'd never had the opportunity to do so against them either.
Then, of course, he'd acquired the Mask, and, having used it to transform himself into some people who practically made a living out of entering hand-to-hand combat- Link, Archangel, Batman, and (Technically) Aladdin, among others- he'd acquired some relatively useful tricks. The combat strategies that remained in his subconscious were mostly instinctive rather than anything he could actually think about on a conscious level, but it was still enough of an edge for him to do some damage.
Added to all the practice he'd got of dodging punches and other physical attacks during his time with the Dursleys, and Harry felt that it was safe to say that he was far more capable at holding his own in a fist-fight than Voldemort was.
If nothing else, from what he recalled of the memories Dumbledore had shown him, even before Voldemort knew of magic, he'd never actually gone head-to-head with his 'targets', preferring to use various elaborate traps and schemes rather than actually attacking them with his bare hands. The guy was fast on his feet, true, but he was still clearly used to the long-distance warning he would have received of an attack in a wizarding duel, so he wasn't quite able to react to a punch fast enough.
Of course, that didn't mean he was a pushover; Harry was hardly a professional fighter himself, and, as he knew from experience, even total amateurs can sometimes get lucky in a struggle. After Harry had managed to land a couple of blows on his opponent, Voldemort swiftly began to retaliate, launching a couple of rapid punches that caught Harry in the chest, leaving him momentarily winded.
"You dare to fight me, POTTER?!" Voldemort roared, launching a surprising powerful uppercut at his opponent that sent Harry staggering backwards, clutching a bleeding lip. "I have vanquished some of the most powerful witches and wizards alive… I have conquered Hogwarts… I have conquered death itself! You honestly believed that YOU could defeat ME?"
Staring back at Voldemort, Harry glared at the man who'd ruined his life, and spat a fleck of blood onto his face before following it up with a powerful blow to the older man's left eye.
"You talk too much, asshole," he growled at his foe. Voldemort barely even had time to yell in outrage at that- quite frankly, the man was ridiculously repetitive at times- before Harry launched a quick kick at Voldemort's chest that struck the man just under the ribs.
"And to answer your question," Harry continued, as Voldemort clutched his chest, desperately gasping for the air that had just been forced out of his lungs, "I do think I can defeat you."
Before Voldemort could regain his breath and even begin to think about fighting back once more, Harry lashed out with a renewed assault of punches and kicks.
"That was for Dumbledore!" he yelled, as he struck Voldemort's shoulder with a rapid kick.
"That was for Sirius!" he added, driving a fist into Voldemort's chest and leaving his foe to need to start regaining his hard-won air all over again.
"That was for Cedric!" he continued, striking Voldemort's nose with the palm of his hand; if it hadn't been for the fact that Voldemort's nose resembled a snake's rather than a human's, Harry had no doubt he would have broken a bone or two in his opponent's face.
"And this is for ME!" he roared, as he lashed out with another kick to the chest that sent Voldemort flying backwards, a silent scream ripping from the Dark Lord's mouth as he hurtled towards the wall.
It was only after Voldemort struck the wall behind him- somehow adjusting his involuntary flight so that the wall only bruised his back rather than breaking his neck- that Harry realised the slight mistake he'd made in attempting that particular manoeuvre. He'd been so focused on attacking Voldemort that he'd forgotten to remember where Voldemort's wand in case the sucker tried to go for it once more…
And, in a moment of complete idiocy, he'd kicked the sucker practically right towards where the wand was currently lying on the floor of the hall.
Harry barely even paused to think; the moment he saw Voldemort's fingers close on the wand, he dived off to the side as his foe brought the wand up to aim at him, sighing briefly in relief as the non-verbal spell his opponent cast missed him.
As he heard a loud crash from behind him that was vaguely reminiscent of a car crashing into a brick wall, Harry winced as he desperately rolled back onto his feet, glancing back to see a shockingly large hole in the stone wall of the castle; it looked like Voldemort had tried to case a Reductor curse at full power and had ended up punching right through the wall.
It was official; he was really glad that he hadn't let that thing hit him…
Right now, as Voldemort began to launch a barrage of spells that Harry didn't dare try to counteract- the 'Prior Incanteum' thing wouldn't really do him much good right now, since both he and Voldemort knew how to break it- the Gryffindor quidditch captain was wishing he'd kept a hold on the Mask, which was currently on the opposite side of the hall from him.
OK then, Harry mused, as Voldemort got to his feet and continued to fire rapid spells at him. Got to get enough distance between us that I can take him down long enough to get over there without being turned into a human doughnut…
Damn, this is not going to be easy.
It was official; life sucked when he was trying to go it alone.
After nearly ten minutes of continuous movement, Ginny was no longer entirely sure where they'd even started from, never mind where they were going. She knew that there were other exists to the castle beyond the main doors, but, right now, she could not remember where anything was…
"Ginny…" Hermione hissed from behind her, as the younger girl tried to pick which route she should take as they approached a fork in the passageway. "Can we just get moving; this is not the time to be sticking around, you know!"
"You think I don't know that, Hermione?" Ginny retorted, turning around to glare at the older girl as she halted in front of the passageway. "I'm trying here, but it's not easy! You know, there are times when that bloody map of Harry's would really come in handy…"
"Well, we don't have it, so we'll just have to make do!" Ron interjected, looking critically over at the two girls before turning his attention back to the corridor before him. "Look, we've got that portrait of Agrippa and the Sneakoscope over there, so that means we're… we're… just a couple of levels away from the main hall, right?"
Ginny began to nod in agreement- she'd been so caught up in not having found a way out yet that she'd completely forgotten to look for the little details like that- when she heard something off to one side that made her blood run cold.
A loud explosion, coming from just a bit downwards and to their right, that sounded like it practically punched through a wall.
There was only one reason anybody in this building would be blowing holes in the wall, and Ginny didn't want to imagine what could have happened to cause something like that.
"Harry!" she yelled in horror.
She didn't know how she could know so certainly that it was Harry who was in trouble; after all, with the Mask, he might have been able to make an explosion like that…
But she wasn't mistaken; she knew it.
Which meant that she only had one choice to make right now, no matter what her brother or her friend thought of it.
The youngest Weasley didn't even stop to think; before Ron or Hermione could even try to talk her out of it, Ginny had turned in the direction that the crash had come from and began to run along the corridor, praying that she'd come to a staircase sooner rather than later. She vaguely heard Ron and Hermione trying to call after her, but she didn't pay any attention as she found a flight of stairs going downwards at long last.
If Harry needed her, she was going to help him.