Chapter Fourteen: Dueling a Double Devil
Title: Harry Potter and the Spirit Riders
Chapter: 14
Author: Hikari no Vikki
Genre: Action/Adventure/Fantasy
Parings: Sorry, only frivolous friendships for now.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Zelda. Really. I don't.
Description: Crossover with Legend of Zelda. The Phantom Hourglass has been handed down since its beginning, until finally it makes its way into the hands of a boy named Gabriel. He fights alongside Harry Potter, and soon discovers a darkness that has been waiting to exact a deadly revenge.
Author's Notes:
Sorry this took so long. Couldn't decide on how to end the thing... well, enjoy!
"Evening, Professor," Gabriel uttered quietly through gritted teeth.
Quirrell turned to meet them. "You!" he hissed, in such a way Gabriel had never dreamed he'd hear. In fact, it was rather scary, but not so much as the other presence he felt lurking elsewhere in the chamber.
Bellum was near.
It wasn't the cloaking kind of presence from before, but he knew that he was close, simply on instinct. Now that he knew what was the matter, he had better control over himself; so he hoped.
"I was wondering when I'd meet you here," Quirrell said calmly. He paused, thinking a moment. Then he grinned dramatically.
"You know, you've been a thorn in my side for a while now, Silverwings. Setting fire to my robes at the game, blasting me with that fierce light magic in the forest... I daresay you'd have been a powerful wizard, given the chance." Gabriel growled. "Given the chance? What, you're going to kill me?" Quirrell chuckled. "Well, yes. The both of you. It simply wouldn't do to have you blabbing all this around the school."
Gabriel laughed to himself. Quirrell didn't know that Aria was doing that very thing right now. But he probably shouldn't say anything about it. He and Harry stepped just a little closer.
"So you knew that we knew?" said Harry from behind him.
"Unfortunately." His scowl relaxed into a smug grin. "But I also knew you couldn't tell anyone except your friends, and what good would that do? I suspect you did try, didn't you? With Professor McGonagall?"
Harry gasped. "You knew about that?" Quirrell laughed haughtily. "Of course I knew! I was watching the whole time. But, you know, I won't be the one to kill you, Silverwings," Quirrell said suddenly, "Bellum will do that."
Gabriel shivered.
He walked forward a few more steps, with Harry following close behind, but Quirrell stopped them. "Ah, ah, ah… you two need to stay put."
He turned his head back to look behind him. "Bellum! Restrain them."
Gabriel panicked. He wasn't sure what was the matter with him, even though he knew what he was up against. Well, perhaps the fact that this was a powerful millennia old creature that could kill him by simply lifting a finger might've had something to do with it. But something caught his eye, something behind Quirrell, which made all the difference to Gabriel.
It was the Mirror of Erised.
Ideas came flooding into his mind, things he could possibly ask of the Mirror that might help him. He brushed the superficial ones away; magics he hadn't need for… save one. It was an idea sparked from something the centaur had said to him that night in the Forbidden Forest.
You must find at least another five minutes if you are to be of any hindrance.
Were these five minutes hidden in the mirror, just as the Sorcerer's Stone probably was? He watched his reflection carefully, but couldn't see enough of it with Quirrell in the way. Damn! He needed to get to the Mirror! He cursed Quirrell's impudence (well, it was so in his mind) and his own stupidity. All these thoughts and more raced through his mind until he heard Harry cry out in his struggles.
"Harry!" he cried out, turning around to see what was the matter. Unfortunately, he himself was also bound, odd looking tendrils snaking their way around his legs and arms, not completely binding him but most definitely rooting him to the spot.
Upon closer examination, the tendrils appeared to have leaf-like shapes at the ends of them, each imprinted with a yellow-purple ringed eye. Gabriel fought against his bonds, but to no avail. Then something touched his shoulder and leaned next to his left ear to whisper, "I have you now, Guardian. Pity, you're really not much of one…"
Gabriel froze. His pupils dilated to the size of saucers, and his breath caught in his throat. His eyes squeezed shut as the presence circled around to the front and grasped him by his chin with strangely soft, warm hands.
"Open your eyes, Guardian. Look at me!"
The hand curled in, the nails digging deep into his flesh and extracting a tortured cry from his lips, though he still kept his eyes closed. Harry, who was completely bound from head to toe behind Gabriel, could only watch in horror as blood dribbled down onto Gabriel's uniform, dripping occasionally onto the floor.
Finally, realizing that he had no choice but to look upon the creature, Gabriel slowly opened his eyes.
It was very much a shock to him when he saw a man's face looking down at him with a cruel, playful expression. It was not like the night in the forest where he couldn't see anything but his cold, yellow eyes – eyes much like the ones on the strange tendrils that held him – Gabriel could now see everything.
Bellum did indeed look more man than beast, with his wavy, half-curled purple-black locks, his soft yet square-set jaw, and his sharp, perfectly shaped nose. He was tall, a little taller than Quirrell – which was about up to the top of Quirrell's turban – broad shouldered, and quite handsome. But you could tell there was something very wrong with him for the way his purple irises were slightly enlarged, one looking just ever so slightly off to one side, and by the rune-like tattoos all over his body. What was visible - his arms, chest, neck, and bits of his face – were covered in them. Gabriel guessed they went lower, and that they might not even be tattoos at all, but part of Bellum's skin.
"That's better. I want you to look at me when you breathe your last."
Bellum slowly, agonizingly, removed his nails from Gabriel's face. Gabriel screamed in pain, having forgotten that they'd even sunk into his flesh in the first place. The cool air bit at the tender gashes and caused his eyes to water, but Gabriel grit his teeth and settled for a murderous glare, not willing to let his dignity suffer because of the pain.
Bellum stepped back and leaned his right arm against the Mirror of Erised, letting the other arm fall casually against his side, shifting his weight to his left leg as he crossed his right foot over his left.
"So, any luck with that stone of yours? I keep telling you that there are other ways, better ways, but no! Really, you should listen to me; I know how this can turn for the worst. You're in control, monologuing over your defeated enemy, and then in a second it's all gone, and you're lying in your own ashes wondering how the hell it happened, you know? Trust me, we should really just kill them now and get it over with."
"Stop undermining me!" Quirrell shouted, in a voice that was not quite his own. "I'm in charge here!"
Bellum chuckled. "Suit yourself. May I play with my food some more? I'm getting bored. And, if I may say so myself, you won't like me when I'm too bored. I'm not very pleasant to be around."
"Fine, fine! Just don't kill them yet!" Quirrell growled, waving a hand as if to shoo him away. "We may still need them."
Bellum, somewhat satisfied, pushed himself off of the Mirror and walked toward the two boys. He made a quick, come-hither sort of motion with his right hand and suddenly Harry was standing beside him, still trussed up in Bellum's odd bindings.
"What to do, what to do… unfortunately until your darling Professor Quirrell gives me the go ahead, I'm not allowed to kill you." He said this with a mock air of concern, his flashing yellow eyes. "Unfortunately for you, that is."
Gabriel wisely stayed quiet. From what he had been able to absorb about Bellum in such a sort amount of time was that he was a very changeable character, able to shift between sickly sweet and serious at a whim. His father had warned him that such characters were dangerous and fickle, and most definitely not to be toyed with. He'd have to be very careful with what he said to this creature if he valued his life at all.
Bellum's deft fingers trailed Harry's left cheekbone, indenting an occasional scratch here and there, making him flinch. Bellum grinned at the sight of the blood springing up from the cracks in the flesh, and even wiped a bit of it onto his index finger and licked in clean off in a slow, deliberate movement to show he was enjoying it.
"Ah, how refreshing," he purred softly, "young blood is always so very, very sweet. I must taste more of it!" He giggled maniacally, loosening Harry's left arm from his bonds, taking it in his right hand and pushing up the sleeve of his sweater, his left poised to draw a new well of blood from the skin. Harry looked so very terrified.
"No, stop! Take mine instead!" Gabriel cried out. "Just d-don't hurt him."
Gabriel winced at the way he tripped over his words when he spoke. He just couldn't control himself around this creature; his fear was so strong. He wanted to protect his friend even to the point of death, but once said prospect was made quite a very real possibility, there was this overwhelming terror that threatened to consume him. Yet, he had managed to push past some of that.
Bellum glanced over to Gabriel's exposed left arm.
He wasn't wearing his robe, just his white shirt, vest, Gryffindor tie, and of course the black slacks customary of a Hogwarts student. His left sleeve had been ripped apart by some of the Devil's Snare, and he was just now realizing it. That, and how very naked he felt under Bellum's gaze.
But it worked. Bellum dropped Harry's arm and the strange bindings wrapped Harry's arm within them again. Harry visibly shuddered, but was very much thankful when he met Gabriel's frightened golden eyes.
Bellum walked over to Gabriel and held his slender arm at length, the cloth falling away to reveal the pale skin. He trailed down its length with his eyes, practically devouring it. Bellum was just about to make his mark when Gabriel had the sudden audacity to ask him something.
"Bellum, why are you doing this?"
Bellum stopped, and looked up, somewhat startled. "What? I'd think as a Guardian you would know." Gabriel bit his lip fearfully, but didn't waver. "You've been alive for millennia. I haven't. Besides being the Hourglass's keeper, what have I done to wrong you?" Bellum's left eye twitched. "You need to learn to keep your mouth shut, boy." As he said this, he ripped a large gash along Gabriel's arm, watching the blood trickle down Gabriel's hand and splatter to the floor.
Gabriel whimpered; attempting to fight back tears as he faintly struggled against his bonds.
"As to the answer of that particular question, it is because of the things he has kept me from doing that I do so verily wish you to die…"
He knelt, and still holding Gabriel's arm, began liking the blood with slightly less gusto than before, though still clearly enjoying the taste. It took all Gabriel had not to squirm under the man's touch.
Suddenly Quirrell cursed loudly in frustration, making the two boys and even Bellum himself look up at him, having somehow forgotten that he was there. "I don't understand! The stone is… inside the mirror? Should I break it?" Bellum's detached expression morphed into a slightly more malignant one. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. What is it you see, anyway?"
Bellum licked just a little more of the blood from Gabriel's arm, Gabriel noticing that Bellum's tongue was not completely pink, yet had a slightly greenish tint to it. He shivered, the sight nearly making him want to gag.
"I see what I desire. I see myself holding the stone," Quirrell muttered fervently, "But how do I get it?" Then, out of nowhere, that same voice that sounded like Quirrell but was not Quirrell spoke.
Use one of them…
Quirrell turned round; judging which of the two would be best for the job.
"You, Silverwings! You'll do. You've gotten something from the Mirror before, haven't you? We'll try you first." He paused, sneering disgustingly at Bellum. "You can stop playing with your food now. Unbind him and let him stand here!"
Bellum lazily glanced towards the Professor. "Fine, fine. So bossy…"
He stood up and snapped his fingers, the bindings on Gabriel fading into oblivion. He walked a few steps, unsure, until Bellum leaned down by his ear and whispered, "Don't you dare try to run away, you child." At this, Gabriel yipped sharply and scampered towards the Mirror, making himself look as presentable as he possibly could. Quirrell gave him a not too kind shove as he said, "Go on," and moved out of the way.
Gabriel could hardly believe his reflection.
His hair was so thick with dust it was almost a blondish gray, and his golden eyes were so terribly bloodshot. Cuts littered his face, including the ones Bellum had made, and his clothing was torn in a few places as well. He looked a right mess indeed. But his reflection changed from the wide-eyed version of himself to a more serious one, which quickly removed the Hourglass from its satchel. It also took a small bag from his right pocket, and held onto the Hourglass with two fingers as he gently pulled off its top. With his left hand, his reflection took the bag and poured its golden contents into the Hourglass.
That's the five minutes I needed! Gabriel thought excitedly.
But whatever would he do with the Hourglass if he got the chance to?
"What do you see, boy? Do you see the stone?" Quirrell prompted, just as his reflection was hastily screwing the top back on, and stuffing the Hourglass back into its satchel.
Gabriel frowned and shook his head. "No sir, I do not."
Quirrell huffed, and tossed him back. "Bind him again and release Harry. Maybe he'll do a better job of trying." Gabriel stumbled into a mildly surprised Bellum's arms. Bellum scoffed, reluctant to take orders from such an ignorant young mortal, but did as he was told. He bound Gabriel as he'd been before; his arms tied loosely to the ground and his feet unable to move. Harry was released, and stumbled up to the Mirror.
Bellum walked back around to Gabriel's front, and knelt again, on one knee, to lick at the blood that still flowed from the scratch on his arm. He said nothing, but simply grinned as he licked, thoroughly enjoying himself. However, Gabriel was beginning to feel a tad lightheaded.
Gabriel did his best to ignore Bellum's attentions as he watched Harry. He desired to see what Harry was seeing, and so the Mirror showed it to him.
At first, Harry's reflection was much like his own, pale and scared, covered in scratches. But then it changed. Harry's reflection winked at him, and pulled something red and shiny from his pocket. The Sorcerer's Stone! It held it up, grinning, and put it back into Harry's right pocket.
"Well?" Quirrell asked impatiently, "What do you see?"
Harry seemed to pause a moment before speaking. "I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," he replied, obviously lying. Bellum had paused in his licking to listen, and had a very troubling expression on his face. "I-I've won the house cup for Gryffindor." Gabriel winced. Harry had tripped over his words… but somehow, Quirrell bought it.
"Get out of the way," he said. Harry turned around, and walked as briskly as he dared to stand off to Gabriel's left, some distance away. But no sooner had he arrived, the voice from before spoke again, and Quirrell was most definitely not moving his lips.
"He lies… he lies…"
"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted, "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"
The voice spoke another time, this time saying, "Let me speak to him… face-to-face…" Gabriel was absolutely spellbound. Something about Quirrell was very irregular… he wondered how he hadn't noticed it before. Something to do with his energy, or rather, energies. That wasn't normal… was it?
Bellum looked up at Gabriel, and chuckled when he saw the shell-shocked expression on his face. "Surprised? I didn't think you would be. Then again, you don't seem to be much of a Guardian in the first place. Just… watch."
He stood up, seemingly satisfied with Gabriel's arm, which was dripping a little less, though it still stung rather smartly.
"Master," Quirrell whispered, wringing his hands rapidly, "you are not strong enough!" The voice laughed. "I have strength enough… for this…" And both Gabriel and Harry watched in horror as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. After a few moments, the turban fell away, and Quirrell turned on the spot to reveal the owner of the voice.
Or rather, the face of the owner of the voice.
The face struggled against the skin to regain some sort of shape again, though it couldn't do so completely. It had deep, devilish dark eyes, a crooked, wrinkled mouth, and two snakelike slits for what Gabriel was sure was a nose.
Was this… what remained of Lord Voldemort?
"See what I have become?" the face said. "See what I must do to survive? Live off another…a mere parasite… Unicorn blood can sustain me…but it cannot give me a body of my own! But, with the Elixir of Life, I can do just that. Now… why don't you give me that that Stone in your pocket?
Harry finally stumbled backward, looking horrified.
"Don't be a fool, child," Bellum smirked, folding his arms. "You should save your own life and join him. Better to live than meet the fate you friend here's going to meet soon." Harry growled. "No! You let him go!" Bellum frowned. "You would choose death? How very heroic… pity it won't help things." He waved his left hand in a short sweeping motion and set it back down, glancing off to the side.
Gabriel caught a glimpse a something in the corner of his eye, noticing the tendrils shooting up out of the ground. "Harry! Run, or those ropes will get you!" Harry looked down and did as Gabriel commanded, running towards the exit. But flames sprang up at the top of the steps, barring his way.
Bellum whirled on Gabriel and snarled. "You! How dare you!"
Gabriel gasped; he had to get loose of these bonds, now. But how?
"That was my prey you little ingrate!" Bellum hissed, grasping Gabriel by his collar. "You'll pay for that, child." Bellum raised his right arm, his claw-like nails poised to strike. But Gabriel, quick thinker that he was, bent backwards and raised his left arm to protect himself, the bonds tightening terribly around his wrist. When Bellum swung, his nails sliced straight through, not his arm, but his bonds. They snapped clean away, enabling Gabriel to bounce back with a counterattack.
"Incendio!" He barked, bringing back his left hand to send ribbons of golden-white flame launching towards Bellum. Bellum recoiled, recovering quickly, but Gabriel had already cut himself loose from all his bonds by the time he managed to do so.
"Heh," Bellum spat, licking at a burn on the back of his left hand. "You're more trouble than I thought you to be. Perhaps I should take extra precautions…" Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "No you don't!"
His right hand brushed against the Hourglass protectively before he raised it.
Without a command, Gabriel felt a familiar power flow through him, snaking its way into every part of him, and finally blasting from his fingertips in the form a burst of white lightning. It only just missed hitting Bellum's right shoulder completely, and the Mirror as well. Bellum howled in pain, his clothing burnt to cinders and his shoulder flaring a bright, angry red.
"You, mortal! I need a little help here!" he snarled in the direction of Quirrell.
Voldemort chuckled. "You, need help? I suppose you've only just now realized that the Hourglass is stronger than you think? Very well. Say, child… yes, you. The blond one. Perhaps you could both join us? You don't want your parents to die the same way your friend's did… begging me for mercy…" Gabriel snarled. "Don't you dare talk that way about Harry's parents! My dad said they were good people! People that you killed! You murderer…"
If this affected Voldemort in any way, he didn't show it.
"How touching…" it hissed, "you complement people so well. And so brave…I value bravery very much, you know." Voldemort chuckled. "Quirrell, put the boy out of his misery… at least for now."
Gabriel gasped as Quirrell turned around, grasping Gabriel's throat with invisible hands. Gabriel levitated into the air for a moment before Quirrell furrowed his eyebrows in concentration and tossed the boy carelessly to his left, his back hitting hard against one of the columns, causing him to fall to the ground, limp and petrified. Bellum appeared mildly impressed.
"Now why didn't I think of that?" he asked himself idly.
"Because you're too set in your ways, idiot," Voldemort snapped quietly, Quirrell having turned around again. "Anyone could see right through you if they tried hard enough." Bellum growled. "That was rhetorical, partner. And don't you get started on that 'set in your ways' rant. You're still trying to kill the very child you should have been able to kill eleven years ago!"
Harry stepped back on reflex.
Voldemort laughed. "Now I have you all to myself… You know, your parents were very brave…I killed your father first, and he put up a courageous fight… But your mother needn't have died…poor thing was only trying to protect you… Now give me the Stone, unless you want their deaths to have been in vain. I could bring them back, too…if you joined me. Yes, you…and me…together…"
"NEVER!" Harry shouted, moving into a fighting stance. His inexperience showed in the way he placed himself, but he was so sure, so determined; nothing would stop him now. He wanted to run, but he had to get Gabriel out first. "Gabriel's right, my parents were good people. You killed them, and nothing will ever bring them back!" Tears flew from his eyes and splattered to the ground as his head snapped to the side. "I'll fight you, for their sakes."
Voldemort cackled, which didn't seem to faze Harry. When he was done, Bellum just leaned against the Mirror again, saying, "Really, child, it's futile!"
"Well here's a news flash for you: I. Don't. Care."
Then he scrambled for Gabriel's prone form.
"SEIZE HIM!" Voldemort screamed. Bellum thrust a hand forward, causing ropes to dive after Harry fervently, but Harry was too quick for them. He slid against the dirt to kneel at Gabriel's side, shaking him roughly. "Gabriel! Get up! We need to get out of here! I've got the Stone!" Gabriel, who was somewhat awake again, shook his head and tried to process everything that was going on. "What? Running? No… I've got to… Bellum…"
"There's no time, Gabe!" He helped Gabriel up and dragged him towards the exit. Bellum growled. "Sorry my friend, you won't be getting away today!" Gabriel's functions were returning quickly, and he glanced behind them fast enough to push Harry away so that Bellum only tackled him.
To Gabriel's horror, Bellum had changed into something on the cusp of beast and man. He still held his man-like shape, but his eyes were more purple than yellow, and outlined with darker, more elaborate rune-like tattoos. "You tasted so good, earlier… I think it's time I feasted on you properly…" Two vine-like tendrils grew out of the middle of Bellum's back, the tips of which were topped with similar eyelike circles, but these were sharper than the others before them.
Gabriel struggled under Bellum's hold. Finally, he managed to roll him over and was about to get up and run, but Bellum grabbed his shoulders and rolled him back, the battle continuing. At one point Gabriel could hear screams, but he wasn't sure whose they were. His own? Harry's? Quirrell? They certainly weren't Bellum's, though he was clearly in pain every time Gabriel rolled Bellum onto his back, crushing Bellum's writhing yellow-eyed tendrils.
"Don't worry… I'm gracious enough to put you out before I finish you off…aren't I sweet?" Bellum grinned as he pinned him down again, right beside the Mirror, and Gabriel saw that even his teeth had changed into something more animalistic. They were also sharper, and dripping with green saliva that burned away bits of his vest when they fell upon it. But beyond his fear Gabriel could sense something else. There was a will buried deep inside that he couldn't quite describe. It was most definitely tangible, and so very, very safe. He had to keep it alive. Keep himself alive.
So Gabriel did the only thing he could do: kick Bellum straight back.
But first, he grabbed what was left of Bellum's collar, and murmured low into his ear with a voice seemingly not his own, "Not this time, you double-crossing time waster. Today, I reign supreme." And he pushed him off with a powerful jackrabbit kick.
As the two were rolling in the dirt pitting their strengths and wills against one another, Voldemort commanded Quirrell again, "Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" Quirrell went after Harry, leaping over Gabriel and Bellum, like an animal pouncing on its prey. He missed, but got up quickly, twisting Harry's arm into a death grip. Harry screamed in pain, not for his arm, but his scar. Quirrell's touch seemed to blind him with searing pain, and he thrashed with all his might to throw Quirrell off. To his amazement, Quirrell did.
But it wasn't because he'd decided to let him go. Quirrell's hands were bubbling, flashing red with strange, shiny boils.
"What are you doing? SEIZE HIM!" Voldemort howled.
Quirrell lunged, knocking Harry off his feet, Quirrell landing on top of him; his hands around his neck. Harry struggled both to breathe and see clearly, for he could hardly keep awake for the sharp stinging lancing through his body. Yet, he could see Quirrell howling in agony.
"Master, I cannot hold him – my hands… my hands!"
"Then kill him, fool! Kill him!" Voldemort screeched.
Quirrell backed away, panting heavily to regain some of his wits. He raised one of his hands to perform a curse, but Harry, on some snap decision, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face–
"AAAARGH!"
Quirrell rolled off of him, stumbling and scrambling away, and then it hit him. He couldn't touch Harry without causing him pain… he had to… to… what?
It turned out he didn't need to know, because not a moment later did Quirrell regain his senses; Gabriel kicked Bellum straight into Quirrell's gut, knocking them both backwards. Gabriel scrambled to his feet, Harry rushing for Quirrell – until Gabriel stopped him.
"No, wait."
Harry did. Gabriel was shimmering with a golden energy that practically screamed, 'Don't mess with me.' It seemed that Bellum had, and was about to get the business end of a very pissed off Gabriel. Gabriel untied the satchel the Hourglass rested in, and pulled it out, handling it by two of its supports.
Quirrell and Bellum scrambled to their feet, only to come face-to-face with a grinning Gabriel. "What was it you said, Bellum? 'And then you're lying in your own ashes, wondering how the hell it happened?' You should have listened to him, Professor." Gabriel turned the Hourglass three full turns clockwise.
"For the crimes you both committed this night, serve your penance under Time's true light."
The golden sand swirled within and a bright white ball glowed in its centre. Bellum panicked. He'd seen this move once before. But it had been such a long time ago… perhaps he'd been mistaken that the Hourglass had chosen the wrong Guardian. He had no choice but to run.
A light flashed throughout the room, all sound ceasing.
Then, the Hourglass fired upon Quirrell its new, unleashed powers. White light streamed instantly, frying his flesh into a crisp. Gabriel, thoroughly worn out from all the energy he'd just put into the Hourglass, stepped backwards one step before falling into Harry's arms, unconscious, still clutching the Hourglass.
When Harry looked up, he could see the crumbling remains of Quirrell try to make its way to him, but it was too late. It crumbled into dust, his clothes falling to the floor.
Bellum's clothing lay there, tattered and bloodstained, but no body remained.
Harry stood in the sudden silence, still holding the unconscious Gabriel, panting. He was in shock, he aching, he was tired… but he had this unexpected, wonderfully happy thought: he was alive. He could almost laugh… until his eyes caught something swirling in the background. He set Gabriel down, careful not to disturb the Hourglass, and pulled out the Sorcerer's Stone, as if it could help him. He also found his wand, brandishing it quickly for any sign of danger.
Something in the dust… it was only too late did he see what it was.
The specter, seemingly the remains of Lord Voldemort, rushed forward, and Harry, petrified to the spot, could do little but watch. He held up his left arm in a feeble attempt to protect himself, closed his eyes, and fell backwards into darkness.
I know, I'm bad for cutting it off like this, but I wanted to update before I left for Dallas tomorrow. (I can never work unless I'm at home, for some odd reason.) Well, so did you like how I created my 'human' Bellum? I tried as hard as I could to incorporate components of the creature Bellum into his human version, the insanity, the arms with eyes, that sort of thing. And, you can't really blame him for going insane… after all he IS pretty old, you know.
And the Hourglass wasn't terrible either. Having an extra five minutes really made a difference, huh? XD Well, enjoy. I guess I'll have to make sixteen chapters if I want to do an epilogue… oh well. Reviews are welcome. :D
