Harry Wayne and the Batman of Hogwarts
Chapter 38- Knightfall and the Rise of Ra's al Ghul
As Harry Wayne and Waylon Diggory collided with the soaked ground after their desperate lunge for the TriWizard Cup, the world seemed to spin in chaos. The cup had remained in their grasp even as they tumbled, but their struggle to claim it was abruptly interrupted when a deafening crack split the air.
A bolt of lightning, impossibly massive and brilliant, struck the cup. The energy surged through both of them, sending them flying backward. Instinctively, they released the cup, shielding their eyes from the blinding flash as the raw power of the lightning crackled and hissed around them.
For a few disorienting moments, Harry's vision was filled with spots of searing white. His ears rang with the aftermath of the blast, and his chest heaved as he tried to regain his bearings. When his vision finally cleared, he found himself lying on his back, staring up at a sky that wasn't the one above the maze.
The ominous storm clouds above churned with relentless fury, illuminated by flashes of lightning that revealed rows of towering headstones. Cold rain poured down in sheets, drenching him instantly as he propped himself up on his elbows. Thunder rolled overhead like the growl of a giant beast.
Harry pushed himself to his feet, realizing he was lying near the backside of a massive stone mausoleum. Its gothic architecture loomed over him, casting long, eerie shadows with each burst of lightning. Across from him, Waylon stood in his crocodile animagus form, his scales glistening under the relentless downpour. Waylon shifted back into his human form, his breath ragged as he took in the surroundings.
"Where are we?" Waylon asked, his voice a mixture of wonder and unease, the rain sliding off his drenched clothes.
"I don't know," Harry replied, his voice tense as he surveyed their eerie surroundings. "It's like we've been transported somewhere else… when we touched the TriWizard Cup."
Harry's heart thudded in his chest as his gaze swept across the landscape. Gravestones stretched endlessly, illuminated briefly by jagged flashes of lightning. His brow furrowed as he stepped cautiously around the front of the mausoleum, the rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead.
When he reached the front, he froze. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the gravestone directly before him. It was his parents' grave, unmistakable with the name Wayne etched at the top. Below it were the names Lily Martha Wayne and James Thomas Wayne.
"This… this isn't possible," Harry whispered, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch the rain-slicked stone. "This can't be Gotham Cemetery."
Waylon stepped closer, peering over Harry's shoulder. "What is this place?" he murmured, his voice hushed.
Harry turned, his gaze darting to the other gravestones surrounding them. Each bore a name that sent a cold shiver down his spine. Draco Napier. Frank Longbottom. Denton Weasley. Cornelius Fridge.
And then his heart stopped when his eyes landed on the last gravestone in the row. Hermione Kyle.
"No," Harry whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. "This can't be real."
He stumbled backward, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. Rain poured down his face, mingling with the warm tears that spilled from his eyes. His chest tightened as he stared at Hermione's name, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like the storm above.
Waylon stepped forward, his expression grim. "Harry… what is this? What does it mean?"
Harry shook his head, his voice breaking. "I don't know… but this… it has to be some kind of trick. It has to be."
As if in answer to his disbelief, the ground beneath their feet trembled slightly, a low rumble emanating from the mausoleum behind them. Harry and Waylon turned slowly, the ominous feeling of dread intensifying as the storm's fury grew louder, and the graveyard seemed to close in around them.
Harry and Waylon, their fierce competition forgotten, now shared a single goal: escaping the nightmarish trap they found themselves in. The graveyard stretched endlessly under the oppressive storm, and the howling wind and crashing thunder drowned out almost all other sounds. As they scrambled to find an exit, the ground trembled violently beneath them, throwing both to the ground.
The earthquake roared like an angry beast, shaking the towering stone mausoleums until they crumbled into heaps of rubble. Harry shielded his head from falling debris, his heart pounding as the tremors intensified. With a deafening crack, the ground split wide open, creating a chasm so vast it encircled the graveyard completely. When the tremors ceased, a massive moat of swirling, dark-green water had formed, isolating the cemetery on a desolate island as far as the eye could see.
"We're trapped," Harry muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the storm.
Determined to find a way out, Waylon suddenly bolted in the opposite direction, his wet clothes clinging to him as he sprinted through the rain.
"Waylon!" Harry shouted, his voice hoarse. "Wait! We need to stick together!"
But the thunder drowned out his words, and Waylon disappeared into the darkness. Frustration and fear churned in Harry's chest as he stood alone amidst the chaos.
What neither Harry nor Waylon realized was that this horrifying reality was a fabrication, manipulated by Tom Nygma. Hidden behind an invisible barrier on the island's edge, Nygma watched the scene unfold with a smug grin, standing alongside Bane and Barty Strange Jr.
Hermione Kyle struggled in Barty's grip, his arm clamped tightly around her throat. She thrashed, trying to scream Harry's name, but her voice was silenced by the reality-bending barrier. Her tears mixed with the rain as she fought against her captor.
Nygma chuckled, amused by the torment he was orchestrating. "Our little champions are playing right into my hands," he said, his voice dripping with malice.
Meanwhile, Harry had a sudden realization. If the TriWizard Cup had brought them to this twisted place, perhaps it could also serve as the key to their escape. Fueled by newfound determination, he began retracing his steps, searching for the last place he had seen the cup.
But Nygma wasn't about to let Harry succeed so easily. He activated the spell that had been planted in Waylon's mind several days earlier, a subtle seed of paranoia designed to fracture their uneasy alliance. In Waylon's mind, the truth warped. He suddenly believed Harry had been manipulating him all along, using the visions to cheat his way to victory.
Waylon's fury boiled over as the spell twisted his perception. His pupils narrowed, and his muscles tensed. He growled, "You lied to me, Harry. You tricked me!"
Unaware of Nygma's influence, Harry was caught off guard when Waylon, now in his crocodile animagus form, charged at him through the rain. Harry barely managed to dodge as Waylon snapped his powerful jaws just inches from him.
"Waylon, what are you doing?" Harry shouted, his voice desperate and confused. "I don't know what you're talking about!"
But Waylon wasn't listening. His mind, clouded by Nygma's manipulation, saw only betrayal. "You're no friend of mine, Harry. You're a liar and a cheat!" he snarled, his voice low and guttural.
Harry's heart sank as he realized he had not only lost an ally but now faced an enemy intent on taking him down. His mission to find the cup—and save Hermione—had just become even more dangerous.
The rain poured relentlessly as Harry and Waylon grappled on the muddy ground. Harry twisted and rolled, narrowly avoiding Waylon's snapping jaws, each chomp closer than the last. Waylon's claws raked across Harry's chest, leaving a deep gash that burned with pain. Harry gritted his teeth, blood soaking into his already-drenched robes.
Harry knew he couldn't keep this up. He noticed Waylon's erratic behavior, realizing he must be under some form of control. Summoning his remaining strength, Harry chanted a spell designed to reveal any hidden forces at play. The incantation rippled through the stormy air, breaking through the veil of Nygma's illusion.
Suddenly, the invisible wall shimmered and faded, exposing Tom Nygma, Barty Strange Jr., and Hermione, who was still thrashing in Barty's grip. Her muffled cries for help pierced Harry's heart. However, Bane was no longer among them, his absence a foreboding mystery.
"Waylon, look!" Harry shouted, his voice barely audible over the storm. "It's them! They've been controlling you!"
Waylon hesitated, his crocodilian eyes narrowing as he turned to see the truth. Nygma's smug expression and Hermione's struggling form shattered the fog of manipulation in Waylon's mind. His anger surged, this time directed at the true enemy.
With a furious roar, Waylon charged toward Nygma, his powerful body cutting through the rain like a missile. But Nygma, ever the strategist, was ready. With a flick of his wand, he unleashed a massive stunning spell. The blast struck Waylon square in the chest, tearing through his scales and creating a gaping wound. Waylon's body was hurled backward through the air, landing with a sickening thud beside Harry.
"Waylon!" Harry cried, rushing to his fallen ally.
Waylon groaned weakly, his crocodile form flickering as he struggled to maintain consciousness. Harry stood, rage boiling in his veins, and turned to face Nygma. He tightened his grip on his wand, ready to call upon the power of the Belt of Chiroptera.
But before he could act, a shadow loomed over him. Massive hands snatched him from the ground, one clamping over his mouth to muffle his cries. The unmistakable strength of Bane lifted Harry effortlessly, rendering him powerless in the brute's grip.
"Your little magic tricks end here, Wayne," Bane growled, his voice low and menacing. "Let's see how well you fare without your precious words."
Harry's struggles were futile against Bane's overwhelming strength. Rain continued to cascade around them as the night spiraled further into chaos.
As Harry struggled against Bane's iron grip, the ground beneath them began to quake violently, splitting apart and exposing a bubbling, glowing pit of liquid that hissed and churned as though alive. The air filled with the acrid scent of sulfur and decay, and the pit radiated an ominous energy.
Suddenly, Harry's bat-shaped scar burned with an intense light, its glow illuminating the stormy night. It was as if the scar were screaming a warning, alerting Harry to the impending horror. Across the pit, Nygma's grin stretched wider, his eyes alight with maniacal glee.
"It's time!" Nygma declared, his voice cutting through the chaos. From his robes, he retrieved the cryptic journal of Ra's al Ghul, its ancient pages covered with runes and sigils too complex for even Nygma's genius to fully decipher. He opened the journal, chanting incantations in a language long forgotten.
From another pocket, Nygma produced two grim relics: a shriveled piece of flesh, unmistakably human, and a brittle bone that seemed to radiate its own dark aura. "The flesh of Langstrom Pettigrew," Nygma hissed, "and the bone of Ra's al Ghul himself!"
With a theatrical flourish, he hurled the flesh and bone into the pit. The liquid roared to life, churning violently as arcs of dark energy crackled through the air.
"Now, with the sacrifice of Harry Wayne," Nygma declared, "Ra's al Ghul shall rise again, and I shall ascend with him, granted equal power by the Dark Lord!"
Bane's grip tightened on Harry, forcing him closer to the pit's edge. But Harry, feeling the searing heat of the bubbling pit and the chilling truth of Nygma's words, refused to submit.
Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted from Harry's back. His body convulsed, and before Bane could react, two massive, leathery bat wings tore through the fabric of Harry's robes, slashing at Bane's chest and arms. Bane roared in pain, releasing Harry in the process.
Harry leaped into the air, his newfound wings catching the wind and lifting him above the fray. Hovering above the pit, Harry let out a deafening cry, his voice imbued with power and defiance.
"Belt of Chiroptera, hear me!" Harry shouted, his voice resonating with ancient authority. A brilliant beam of light shot from his hands as the enchanted belt materialized around his waist, its dark, intricate design pulsing with raw power.
The transformation was immediate. Harry's body shifted and grew, his form morphing into a monstrous bat-like creature with razor-sharp claws, piercing red eyes, and a commanding presence that dwarfed the figures below.
Hovering over the battlefield, Harry let out an earth-shaking roar, ready to confront Nygma, Bane, and the dark forces conspiring to resurrect Ra's al Ghul. The storm raged around him, thunder echoing his fury as the final battle loomed.
The air was thick with tension, lightning illuminating the battlefield as Harry Wayne launched a barrage of pellets from his belt. They exploded in blinding flashes, the vivid colors disorienting Bane and forcing him to stumble. Harry seized the moment, diving down with all his strength and crashing into Bane like a living missile. The impact sent the hulking brute toppling to the ground with a thunderous crash.
Harry wasted no time, straddling Bane and slashing down with his razor-sharp claws, tearing pieces of Bane's mask away. The fragments fell, revealing the raw fury and desperation in Bane's eyes.
But Harry's triumph was short-lived. A stunning spell fired by Nygma struck him square in the back, sending him sprawling to the ground. The spell's force was potent but nowhere near as devastating as the one that had felled Waylon earlier. Harry groaned, shaking off the effects as he turned to face Nygma, his fury rising like a storm.
Nygma smirked, raising his wand to fire another spell. But Harry was ready this time. With a sweep of his hand, he deflected the attack, their spells colliding mid-air in a blinding explosion of light and sound. The ground shook as they exchanged spell after spell, each blast lighting up the storm-darkened sky.
Finally, Harry's raw determination overcame Nygma's cunning. With a powerful burst of energy, Harry sent Nygma flying, the villain crashing to the ground in a heap. Harry approached slowly, his bat-like form looming over the defeated mastermind.
Nygma's cocky grin faltered, his eyes widening in genuine fear. Harry grabbed him by the chest, his claws sinking into Nygma's flesh. The Riddler writhed and screamed in pain as Harry lifted him effortlessly off the ground, prepared to deliver a final, devastating blow.
Before Harry could strike, a chilling voice pierced the storm.
"Put him down, or the girl gets it!"
Harry's eyes snapped to Barty Strange Jr., who stood behind Hermione. A cruel grin spread across Barty's face as he pressed a gleaming blade to Hermione's neck. Harry froze, his grip on Nygma loosening.
"Nice outfit," Nygma rasped, blood dripping from his lips, his voice dripping with mockery.
Harry ignored the taunt, his focus solely on Hermione. But her eyes widened in alarm.
"Harry, look out!" she screamed.
It was too late. Bane, recovering from the earlier attack, charged forward and grabbed Harry from behind. With a roar of rage, Bane hoisted Harry high above his head. "I MUST BREAK YOU!" In one swift, brutal motion, Bane brought Harry crashing down over his knee.
The sickening crack of Harry's spine echoed through the cemetery. Pain surged through him like lightning, and his body fell limp in Bane's grasp. Without mercy, Bane carried Harry to the edge of the bubbling pit and tossed him in.
"Finish him!" Nygma snarled, stumbling to his feet and wiping blood from his mouth.
Bane drew a glowing green sword, its blade humming with malevolent energy. With a single powerful strike, he drove the blade deep into Harry's back.
Harry screamed, his voice raw with pain as the Belt of Chiroptera faded. His monstrous bat form disintegrated, leaving him in his weakened human state. Blood poured from his wounds, mingling with the bubbling liquid in the pit, which began to glow a sinister red.
"This is it!" Nygma declared triumphantly, his face alight with manic glee.
Without hesitation, Nygma leaped into the pit, his laughter echoing as the malevolent energy consumed him. Harry's vision blurred, the world around him fading as he sank deeper into the abyss, his life slipping away.
Nygma stood in the bubbling pit, holding the journal of Ra's al Ghul aloft. The storm above seemed to respond to his chants, thunder cracking in perfect rhythm to his words. The cryptic phrases rolled off his tongue, a language ancient and foreboding:
"Atra mori, vita nova. Ex umbris resurgo, Ra's al Ghul redimitus!"
The pit bubbled and hissed, its crimson glow intensifying as dark energy surged upward, enveloping Nygma. He laughed maniacally as he felt the power of Ra's al Ghul coursing through him. His body trembled with newfound strength, his veins glowing with an eerie green light.
But then, something shifted. Nygma's laughter faltered, replaced by a grimace of pain. His limbs jerked uncontrollably, and his expression turned to one of panic.
"No! This isn't how it's supposed to be!" Nygma screamed. He clutched at his chest as the energy within him began to expand, overwhelming him. "You promised to share the power! This isn't fair!"
His pleas went unheard. The power wasn't being granted to him—it was consuming him. Slowly, gruesomely, Nygma's flesh began to peel away, shedding like an old snakeskin. Beneath it, a new form was taking shape: the reborn body of Ra's al Ghul.
Bane stood transfixed, his typically stoic face betraying shock as Nygma's cries dissolved into silence. What remained was the tall, imposing figure of Ra's al Ghul, his dark eyes glowing with an ancient and malevolent light.
Meanwhile, amidst the chaos, Hermione struggled against Barty Strange Jr., her necklace suddenly flaring with light. Its nine pearls illuminated, casting a radiant glow.
"What have we here?" Barty muttered, reaching for the necklace. But the moment his fingers touched it, a powerful shock coursed through him, sending him flying backward and causing him to release Hermione.
Hermione didn't hesitate. She darted to Harry's side, pulling his limp body from the bubbling pit with all her strength. She dragged him near Waylon's fallen form, tears streaming down her face as she saw the life fading from Harry's eyes.
"No, no, no!" she whispered desperately, her heart breaking. First Denton, and now Harry. She could hardly bear it.
As if sensing her despair, one of the glowing pearls detached from her necklace. It magically hovered in the air briefly before sinking into Harry's chest. A bright light enveloped him, and suddenly, Harry let out a sharp gasp, coughing as air filled his lungs again.
"Harry!" Hermione cried, relief washing over her.
Harry was alive, but barely. His body remained broken, and he struggled to lift his head. As he did, he spotted the TriWizard Cup lying a few yards away, glinting faintly in the eerie glow of the pit.
By now, Ra's al Ghul had fully emerged from Nygma's ruined body. His gaze turned to Hermione, impressed by the magical display he had witnessed.
"That was quite impressive," he hissed, his voice smooth and menacing. "But ultimately futile. You will both die here."
Ra's began to approach; his movements deliberate and confident. Hermione clutched Harry's hand, fear etched on her face.
Summoning every ounce of strength, "Accio," Harry muttered the incantation. The TriWizard Cup vibrated, then shot through the air toward him. As Ra's raised his hand to strike, the cup landed in Harry's lap.
Without hesitation, Harry grabbed Hermione's arm and reached out to Waylon's unconscious form. The moment his fingers brushed the crocodile animagus's skin, the cup activated.
In a blinding flash of light, the three of them vanished, leaving behind the resurrected Ra's al Ghul, who roared in frustration as his prey slipped from his grasp.
Harry, Hermione, and Waylon reappeared at the entrance of the maze, battered but alive. The quiet of the surrounding field was a stark contrast to the chaos they had just escaped, and Hermione looked at Harry, tears of relief streaming down her face.
"You did it," she whispered. Harry smiled faintly before collapsing, the exhaustion finally claiming him.
Dumbledore, Harvey, and Hagrid sprinted toward Harry as he collapsed at the maze's entrance, his battered body sprawled on the grass. Hermione knelt beside him, holding his hand, her face pale and streaked with rain and tears.
"Harry! Can you hear me?" Dumbledore asked, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He knelt beside the boy, placing a hand on his chest to check his faint, labored breathing.
"What happened in there?" Harvey asked, his voice filled with both worry and anger as he looked at the state of his friends.
Hermione turned to them, her hands trembling. "It was Ra's... Ra's al Ghul. He's been resurrected. It was terrible." Her voice cracked, and she shivered at the memory of what they had narrowly escaped.
As the group began to process her words, a sudden commotion arose near the edge of the maze. Out of the swirling mist, Barty Strange Jr. emerged, stumbling and wild-eyed. His robes were tattered, and his face bore the marks of his struggle with the necklace's magical shock. Ra's had sent him back because of Barty's inability to keep Hermione captive during his resurrection.
"There!" Hermione shouted, pointing with a trembling hand. "It was him! He allowed all of this to happen! He worked with Nygma and Bane!"
Hagrid took a menacing step toward Barty, but the man's eyes darted toward the Forbidden Forest. Without a word, he turned and bolted into the shadows of the towering trees, disappearing before anyone could stop him.
"After him!" Harvey yelled, but Dumbledore raised a hand, his piercing gaze fixed on the forest's edge.
"Let him go," Dumbledore said gravely. "He won't get far in his state, and he knows he can't run forever. We'll deal with him when the time is right. Right now, we need to focus on Harry and what comes next."
Hagrid nodded, his massive hand gently lifting Harry's limp body with care. "We need ter get 'im ter Madam Hooch, right quick," he muttered, his voice thick with concern.
As they made their way back toward the castle, Hermione glanced over her shoulder at the maze, its towering hedges now eerily silent. The weight of what had transpired pressed heavily on her.
Ra's al Ghul was back, and she knew this was only the beginning.
As they walked back to the castle, Hermione's eyes drifted down to her necklace. The nine pearls that once adorned it had been reduced to eight, their luminous glow faintly pulsing as if alive. Between the pearls, something new had formed—a small, intricately designed magical locket, its surface shimmering with a soft, golden light.
Curious, she hesitated for a moment, gently opening the locket. Inside, on one side, was a picture of a baby Harry, his innocent eyes staring up with a playful smile. On the opposite side was an image of Lily Wayne, Harry's mother, her gaze filled with warmth and quiet strength.
Hermione gasped softly, her fingers trembling as she ran them over the images. That's when it struck her—the true significance of the necklace. It wasn't a mere artifact of immense power; it was a tether between life, love, and sacrifice.
The memory came flooding back: the night she found the necklace in the Forbidden Forest, hidden among the roots of an ancient tree. It had seemed like chance, like fate had led her to it. But now, standing here with Harry alive by its power, she understood.
The necklace wasn't meant for anyone else. It had been destined for her to find it, destined for this moment—to bring Harry back to life when no other force could. The images in the locket confirmed it.
Her voice trembled as she whispered, "This necklace… it belonged to Lily. She was wearing it the night she sacrificed herself to save Harry from Ra's al Ghul."
Dumbledore, walking nearby, paused and turned to her, his expression one of deep understanding. "Indeed," he said softly. "Lily imbued the necklace with ancient magic—love so powerful it defies death. It was her greatest gift, meant to protect her son. And now, through you, it has fulfilled its purpose once more."
Hermione closed the locket and clutched it tightly to her chest, tears brimming in her eyes. As the rain continued to fall softly around them, she glanced at Harry, who was still weak but breathing, and made a silent vow.
She would protect him, no matter the cost, just as Lily had.
Epilogue
Hours later, Hagrid and Dumbledore ventured deep into the Forbidden Forest, guided by faint magical traces left in Barty Strange Jr.'s hurried escape. They found him cowering beneath the twisted roots of an ancient tree, his face pale and his hands trembling as he clutched his wand uselessly. His desperation was no match for Dumbledore's commanding presence.
With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore immobilized Barty and brought him back to the castle. Once in the safety of his office, Dumbledore administered a powerful truth serum, Veritaserum, ensuring Barty could no longer hide his secrets.
Under the potion's influence, Barty confessed everything in a monotone voice, his usual defiance stripped away. He revealed the dark truth about his past:
He and Viktor Krum had fabricated the story about Dementors attacking Durmstrang, using it as a cover for the brutal massacre of the twelve Quidditch players during their escape.
He admitted to manipulating the TriWizard Tournament, secretly placing Harry's name into the Goblet of Fire and enchanting it to recognize a fictional fourth school, ensuring Harry would be selected.
Lastly, he confessed to being a loyal Death Eater, serving Ra's al Ghul and carrying out his orders to sow chaos and destruction.
Dumbledore listened to the harrowing revelations with a heavy heart, his expression growing colder with each word. "You've endangered countless lives," Dumbledore said, his voice filled with quiet fury. "Your allegiance to Ra's al Ghul has caused irreparable harm. Justice must be served."
Barty sneered for a fleeting moment, but the fear in his eyes betrayed him. He knew what was coming.
Dumbledore turned to the waiting Dementors, who hovered ominously near the office doorway, their cloaks billowing as if in anticipation. "I sentence you, Barty Strange Jr., to a fate worse than death," Dumbledore declared.
The Dementors advanced, their skeletal hands reaching for Barty. He screamed, struggling against his bonds, but there was no escape. One Dementor lowered its hood, revealing the hollow darkness within. With a sickening rush, the Dementor performed its Kiss, sucking the soul from Barty's body.
The room grew eerily silent as Barty slumped forward, his lifeless eyes staring into nothingness. His body remained, but his essence was gone, leaving him in a state of eternal torment.
Dumbledore sighed deeply, the weight of the day pressing heavily on him. "Let this be a reminder," he said to Hagrid, his voice somber, "that the fight against darkness is never truly over. But as long as there is light, we must stand firm."
Hagrid nodded, his face grim. "Aye, Professor. We'll keep fightin'."
Nightfall had passed as the first light of dawn broke over Hogwarts, the castle seemed to breathe again, the storm of the TriWizard Tournament finally passing. But in the shadows, the lingering threat of Ra's al Ghul and his followers remained—a reminder that the quest for justice and hope was far from finished.
To be continued…