A/N: I decide I am going to take this up further. And with that a small preview of something that just hit me, may end up being an omake though. Note that I haven't actually been working on this at all recently *coughanonreviewercough* as I've been very busy with exams, and er- exam resits. Usually I try to maintain at least 1.5/2 thousand words per chapter.
Time froze as the two competitors found themselves locking in a cage of golden light. Harry took the moment to recover his breath. Across from him stood the newly resurrected Lord Voldemort, his hateful ruby eyes staring intensely at him.
"Harry, my son," A voice rang out, "I thought by now you would have embraced your heritage."
"Who are you?", Voldemort roared, "What have you done? You shall feel the full wrath of Lord Voldemort for this."
A chuckle swept across them like a gentle breeze.
"Tom Riddle, such a boisterous child. Tell me, do your followers know of your heritage?"
"My name is Lord Voldemort! You would dare to mock me?"
"Dear Tom, you know somewhat of the old ways, lost to recent times. You studied the mythology of the Greeks, through muggle means did you not? Tell me, what happened to them?"
"They died out suddenly, their strong ways lost to the likes of you who would not seek power!"
A flutter, a small breeze, and a man stood between them, his skin ash white but marred by a pattern of shining red, as if magically so.
"Tell me Tom, in all your time, all your studying, what did you learn of the Ghost of Sparta?"
Voldemort's face went a white ashen colour that beat even that of the man stood infront of him.
"No, it can't be you. It can't. The old ways- They were lost to all."
"Oh but I am. And do you know what happened to the gods of Olympus? I killed them, one by one." And with that a glowing blue sword appeared in his hand, piercing the dark lord's chest.