The rain fell softly on the small town of Little Hangleton.
The moon was at its fullest, shining down on the town through an almost perfectly clear sky, not that anyone would dare going outside to gaze up into the night sky. It was due to this reluctance to leave their warm homes at midnight that caused the townspeople to miss what happened, the moon's light dimming for just a second, before a large lean dog appeared in the middle of the street; tail wagging gently as it stared at an empty space not too much further down the road.
Upon the dog letting out a soft bark, the space was no longer empty, a figure of below average height appearing with a soft barely audible pop. Shivering in the cold air, the figure pulled his brown leather coat tighter around his body, glancing up at the raining sky with a grimace before snapping a finger, a wave of… something… rolling across his body.
The rain now rolling off his body without a mark, the man – no, the boy – looked around the street he'd appeared on, licking his lips nervously as his eyes fell on the dog standing there. The two black-haired beings stood there for a moment, words passing between the two of them silently, before the dog suddenly turned tail and started off at a trot with the boy following closely behind.
Nothing happened as they walked, the world around them seeming frozen as they made their way through the town slowly, as if they had nowhere to be in a rush. The boy and his dog eventually turned onto the road leading out of town, seemingly unaware that the once handsome manor formally belonging to the Riddles; an unpopular family of snobs was the only thing that awaited them down that road.
Or… perhaps they knew exactly that? It was certainly the most likely of options, as the boy followed his dog all the way up the winding road to the manor, a light breeze tugging at the boy's brown coat and making it swirl around his knees. Finally the two stopped, right at the closed and sealed gate to the manor, both of them staring up through the rain at the large ominous building.
"Harry?"
Harry Potter started at the voice, before glancing down at the dog sitting by his feet. "I know," he murmured, emerald green eyes flicking up back to watch the manor through his fringe, "I just…"
"It needs to be done".
"I know," Harry repeated again, "Are you sure I can do this?" he asked the air, slowly stepping forward and letting his quidditch boots squelch into the mud as he approached the gate, his eyes falling upon the rusty padlock keeping it shut.
"Of course, I would not have chosen you if you couldn't".
Nodding stiffly, Harry reached out to the padlock, concentrating on it and awkwardly pushing his magic into it through his hand. "Alohomora," he cast softly, his palm shining with a brief flash of light before the padlock let out a loud click and fell to the ground open.
"You know what needs be done, Harry".
"I do," he confirmed, pushing open the gate and wincing at the loud creaks its rusty hinges released at the movement. "And I'll do it," he assured the air, even as he hesitated to take the first step onto the property. "I'm just… nervous… about it".
"Don't be. You understand why it must be done, correct?"
"Correct," Harry choked out, glancing over his shoulder at the still sitting dog.
"Then do it".
Nodding again, Harry turned back to the manor and started forward, ignoring the dog's whine of farewell as he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other instead of his upcoming task. Moving through the rain as silently as if he were a ghost, he was climbing the steps of the leaking building's porch before he knew it, reaching out for the door and opening it without breaking his stride.
"They didn't even lock the door. Their arrogance disgusts me".
Trying not to think about that comment too much, he slowly looked around the clean yet morbid seeming manor, the gas lamps on the walls not giving off as much light as he wished they would. In all fairness though, considering exactly who lived within this manor, Harry wasn't all too surprised by the choice in dark décor.
"Flint? What do you think your-" "Reducto".
His eyes clamped shut, Harry fought down the growing urge to throw up as he heard the soft thump of a body hitting the floor, slowly forcing his eyes to open and look down his extended hand to where an unknown man lay dead on the floor with a huge chunk just missing from his chest. Staring down at the body for a moment, his eyes eventually moved down to the vivid Dark Mark visible on the man's arm, a little bit of his guilt vanishing as he remembered what the man must have done to earn it.
It was only a little bit of his guilt, but it was just enough for him to move on up the stairs without a backwards glance.
"Reducto," he cast as he reached the top of the stairs, hurling a bolt of electric-blue magic down the hallway to his left as another Death Eater rounded the corner. Reaching out with both his hands, Harry held them palm down as he took a deep breath, concentrating for a moment before incanting "Fumos".
As a faint yellow light shone from his palms, Harry watched as a fine cloud of smoke materialised around him, a little impressed with how useful the spell was as it spread up and gathered throughout the air around him. He'd never used that spell before, aside from learning it as part of his Charms homework, but he felt that should he be getting into another fight any time soon he'd have to give it a go. When the light in his palms died, Harry took that as a sign that the spell was finished, looking around through the transparent – to him only – smoke before starting forward again and heading down the hallway opposite the one the Death Eater had come from.
He hadn't wanted to be here, doing this. Well no… that wasn't true. He most certainly hadn't thought about being here and doing this, nor would this have been his first choice of action. But he'd been given an offer he felt he couldn't resist.
The Wizarding World were all too happy to pretend that the last year of abuse and slander had never happened, all of them expecting him to forgive and forget and then having the gall to blame him when he tried to refuse. Albus Dumbledore – the man who Harry still blamed for the death of Sirius – had even gone as far as trying to force him to forgive them, insisting that he needed to accept their obviously 'heart-felt' apologies, for hatred was the 'path to the dark side'. (And thanks, Yoda, Harry had seen enough of the Star Wars series to know a quote when he heard one).
Anyway.
Harry had been in his dormitory alone, looking through his photo album at the latest picture of himself and Sirius he'd taken during Christmas that year, when he'd realised something that should probably have worried him – were it not for Voldemort's willingness to just kill everyone, and Harry's being the only person who could stop him, he could have quite happily packed his bags and left.
Which is exactly what the offer was.
He hadn't trusted the woman at first, who would trust a woman who just mysteriously appeared to you when you were naked in the shower after all? But she hadn't even tried to peak, and instead had just conjured a chair to sit in as she spoke… spoke of a world full of gods, demigods and monsters, and of his place in it. She offered to give him the 'Power the Dark Lord Knows Not' and to help him destroy Voldemort, in exchange for a single favour – something about returning a stolen item – and all in all 'simple' deal.
Except it wasn't… even if Harry refused the deal, it didn't change the fact that he was apparently a demigod, since only demigods could be given deals such as this. And if he accepted the deal? He'd remain a demigod, only he'd be granted an aspect of the woman's – the goddess' power – so he could act as her 'Champion' on Earth. This Championship, or whatever it was called, would be the Power that Voldemort knew not.
And it was time for Harry to introduce it to him.
Pausing at the door to Voldemort's 'throne room', Harry took a deep breath, before raising his hands and flicking them at the door to blast it open. Striding straight in as the smoke around him faded, he ignored the Death Eaters gathered in the room as he instead locked eyes with the Dark Lord himself. Emerald green stared into Ruby red, as the room say deathly silent, none of the Death Eaters able to react as the two stared each other down. As Voldemort slowly made his way to his feet, a snake-like smirk growing across his face, Harry didn't give him the chance to speak as he raised a hand in front of him.
"Incindio".
A ball of fire appearing in his palm, Harry watched as Voldemort froze. Thrusting his hand forward, he threw the fire at the Dark Lord in the form of a beam, watching emotionlessly as it splashed against a colourless shield surrounding Voldemort.
"Wandless magic," Voldemort mused thoughtfully, "Thank you, Harry Potter, for making your demise interesting".
Harry however, hadn't heard a word the Dark Lord had said as he closed his eyes and concentrated, feeling the barriers that fell into place over the building as the goddess that had sent him upheld her end of the bargain. "Your mother sends her regards, Tom Marvolo Riddle," he said clearly, opening his eyes again to stare at the shocked looking demigod standing opposite him, "But she thinks you should have just stayed dead".
Raising both his hands this time, Harry pointed his palms at the suddenly scared looking Dark Lord, "Aufero Sarcina".
For a moment nothing happened, but then as Voldemort smirked victoriously at Harry, a white light began to shine from his palms, reaching out across the room to touch upon the Dark Lord whom stiffened instantly. As the light grew in strength, Harry was forced to narrow his eyes to silts so he could still see, Voldemort now standing with his back arched as pain flashed across his serpentine face. Eventually a scream became audible, not from the Dark Lord himself, but from his Death Eaters as each one of them fell to the ground in pain as their Dark Marks burned and ate away at their flesh.
The light from his palms dying suddenly, Harry let his sore arms drop to his side, unable to tear his eyes away as Voldemort's skin disintegrated… followed shortly by his flesh, and then his muscles, then his bones, leaving nothing but a pile of ash that was blown away in a non-existent wind.
"Finish it".
Gasping for breath after his last spell sucked it all away, Harry gathered what little strength he had left, his body and magic accustomed to wizardry instead of the more powerful sorcery. "Incindio," he cast again, conjuring another ball of fire in his hand. This time instead of turning it into a stream, Harry pulled back his hand and threw the ball at the bookshelves on the wall, watching as they quickly caught fire. Repeating the process on the other wall, he only hesitated for a second over the thought of leaving the unconscious Death Eaters in the building to burn, before he was turning and making his way out of the building as if he'd just finished a lovely lunch with the Dark Lord instead of using a sorcery-based counter-spell to reverse the effects of the ritual he'd used two years ago to regain a body.
Tears stung at his eyes as he started down the stairs, but Harry wasn't sure if they were of grief over what he'd just done without hesitation or if they were of relief that it was finally all over.
"You impressed me, Harry".
Not wanting to risk speaking, Harry just strode out of the building and started down the driveway, only coming to a stop when he'd reached the dog again. "I've kept my end of the deal," he forced out, tilting his head back to stare into the moonlit sky, his hands trembling by his sides.
"And I shall keep mine, of course".
Fingers clenching around the item that appeared in his hands, Harry looked down at the envelope, opening it and peering in to see one ticket to New York and a passport he knew to be his. "And these will get me to this 'Camp Half-Blood' of yours?" he questioned, finally looking directly at the dog as he spoke.
"Indeed," the dog agreed as Harry opened the passport to look at it curiously. "From there just follow the map in the envelope to the Camp, once there, inform Chiron of your name and title and he will see that you settle in. I will contact you when it is time for you to uphold your end of our bargain".
"Of course, Lady Hecate," Harry promised simply, closing his eyes and spinning on his heel, envisioning his dormitory back at Hogwarts.
Appariting straight through the wards as if they were not there, he just waved his hand with a quietly whispered "Pack", watching as his belongings all rapidly packed themselves tightly into his trunk. Reaching out slowly to pick his wand up from the bedside table, he smiled faintly as he slipped it into the inner pocket of his leather coat, glancing at his bed once to ensure the letter he'd written earlier that night was still there, before picking up his trunk and turning on his heel once more.
With an almost soundless pop, Harry Evans, once Potter, vanished from Hogwarts for good.
CHAMPION
Technically based off DZ2's Harry the Twice-Blessed Half-Blood challenge. This is a possible idea I'm coming up with to replace Pandemonium, as I find myself incapable of writing anything for that story anymore - more to come on that front later.
I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson.