CHAPTER 106: The Only One He'll Ever Fear (Part 5)
Department of Mysteries
1:30 a.m.
The room was disappearing around Harry. Morphing. It was losing its solidity. The walls. The floor. It was all blending, enveloping him in black and dark blue colours. He could feel the glass as he ran through the rooms. His body instinctively evaded the destruction Malfoy and Junior had left in their wake. But to Harry, it was all a blur. He was trapped inside a watercolour painting, nothing inside it but him and the hundred-mile path of havoc between him and the elevator. Between him and Junior.
Junior.
The mere thought of him made his legs run just a bit faster. His heart beat just a bit harsher. It had been different knowing he was a Death Eater and seeing him in action. He didn't know what it was. It could have been the mask. The complete disregard for anyone other than himself as he quickly went to join Malfoy. Or maybe he'd just seen too many of the bastards tonight to not feel that blaze of anger overcome him at the mere sight of the characteristic black robes all of them wore.
He'd tried being diplomatic. He'd tried acting as Bedivere expected him, like everyone else wanted him to act. Managing to contain the sheer loathing he felt at the man's presence had been almost too much, and it was all leaking out of him tonight.
Harry wished he could say he was following them to save Longbottom. It's what Mrs Weasley would want him to do. But the truth was he couldn't care less about the little fucker at the moment. His entire being was too consumed by the need to see Junior bleed.
Barty reached out and pulled the lift doors open as Zeus shoved Longbottom forward. He had to give it to the boy, he seemed composed. Oh, he was terrified, Barty knew that. But he was managing to keep himself calm. He even put a little bit of resistance by walking just a tad slower than he knew he should. Not that it mattered, Zeus made up for it any time he thought Longbottom was slacking.
"Where is everyone?" Barty asked.
"Dead, most likely," Zeus shrugged. "Either that or captured for the Aurors. They're not our problem any more."
Barty bit back his anger, only to notice a significant absence. "And Artemis?"
"Who knows what that woman does."
"The Dark Lord won't be pleased."
"Only the Dark Lord knows how to control her, he'll understand. If she gets captured or worse, it'll be her own fault."
Harry burst through the door, nearly toppling over on the corpses as he exited the Department of Mysteries. He was panting loudly, fully breathing from his mouth as he rushed across the long, empty hallway. Close. Oh, so fucking close. All the potions he had chugged down had nearly left his system. That rush, the adrenaline burst from when Aurora appeared before him, it was gone now. And he knew, even if she was here, she wouldn't be able to replace it. His entire body was screaming, begging to shut itself down. But Harry only gritted his teeth and kept running.
He crashed against the wall, his shoulder taking the brunt of the impact as he gave out a groan of pain. His throat was closing up, it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Harry pressed the button to the lift. Over and over again. A thousand times until a bell chimed and the doors beside him opened.
"Time to go," Zeus said haughtily. He pushed Longbottom into the fireplace, the boy easily falling to his knees. But just as Zeus dipped his hand onto the small black container hanging from the wall, his fingers picking out a pinch of floo powder, a bright red light suddenly blinded the three of them. It was quick, the effect only lasted for a minute, but Barty reacted quickly. He pulled out his wand and jumped backward as the tall figure of Albus Dumbledore appeared as the fire dissipated. Immediately, Barty felt his blood run cold. He'd faced Dumbledore earlier in the night. He'd faced him various times before and still managed to escape with his life.
Only this time, Dumbledore looked positively furious. Barty could definitely feel the raw magic pouring out of him, almost reaching out and strangling him where he stood. Never in his life had he seen that look on Dumbledore's face, and for once, Barty wasn't sure he was leaving this room with his life.
Zeus acted quickly, throwing the floo powder onto the fireplace where Longbottom was kneeling. But before the black powder even left Zeus' hands, Dumbledore snapped his fingers and Longbottom was flung out of the fireplace. He crashed roughly onto the ground, and Dumbledore barely glanced at him before he snapped his hand backwards, and Longbottom was sent rolling further away from them.
"Where is Harry?" Dumbledore asked calmly. He hadn't taken his eyes off Zeus, and yet, Barty knew the question was meant for him.
"Safe."
"With you here, I highly doubt that."
Faster than he had ever seen a hundred-year-old man move, Dumbledore pulled out his wand from within his cloak and slashed it upward. The ground surged from below and curled itself around them, trapping the both of them tightly in the spiralling wooden construct, without even a word from Dumbledore. Zeus didn't have his wand in hand, but Barty did. Twisting it towards him, he quickly muttered a spell that consumed the wood in a quick fire. He staggered backwards, barely managing to keep his momentum and block Dumbledore's counterattack. His shield was immediately shattered, Dumbledore's spells going straight through the translucent barrier and singing his robes with their sheer power.
Barty jumped backwards. He moved like an acrobat, twisting his body as he desperately moved to avoid Dumbledore's spells. The old man's eyes shone, power and anger blaring from them as he continued his assault against Barty. And before he knew it, the surrounding floorboards flew upwards. Nine long tentacles made up of wooden planks rose toward the ceiling before they descended on him. Barty moved a mile a minute, his eyes even faster than that, as he dodged and rolled over Dumbledore's non-stop attacks before he exploded into a cloud of smoke and lifted himself from the ground. The tentacles lunged down at him, fast and deadly, Barty barely managed to dodge the first two before pulling out his wand and blasting the third one.
But they kept reforming, trying to pluck him out of the air as Barty desperately flew around them. And just as he felt he had managed to find his rhythm and pace himself to the speed of their attacks, he suddenly felt his entire body be squeezed completely before he was smashed down onto the ground. He felt his shoulder snap on the impact, seeing a glimpse of Dumbledore's restrained expression before Barty's own eyes widened. He rolled away just in time for the tentacle to crash right beside him, dozens of cutting at his face and impaling themselves on his chest.
Picking himself off the ground, Barty jumped away from one of the other tentacles as he launched a cascade of deadly curses at Dumbledore. They were easily batted away, Dumbledore barely blinking as he sent a much larger onslaught while also stunning Zeus in the process, the Death Eater crumbling down, unconscious, as the wooden tiles sank back down to the ground.
He managed to dodge the spells, but it was all too overwhelming as he lost focus of the tentacles for a moment and was swiftly thrown all across the room by one of them. It was a rough landing, and Dumbledore was advancing on him quickly. He couldn't apparate. No exits through which he could fly away. Barty had done his best to avoid this, but there was no other choice. He pressed the mark on his arm right as his entire body was enveloped in ropes. They covered him completely, pressing so tightly he could only just manage to breathe.
But a moment later, Barty felt his presence.
The large, blaring flames that had once proudly shone across the atrium had all been nearly extinguished. They had been reduced in an instant, only the smallest hint of light coming from them as darkness clouded across the atrium. Neville immediately forced himself off the ground, his entire body reacting to the foul presence - a gutting reminder of a night nearly a year ago. He could hear his doppelgänger laughing in the background. But it wasn't that mocking laugh that had sent that shiver down his spine. It was the literal cloud of darkness that had suddenly appeared inside the atrium, and from it, the pale white face of Lord Voldemort appeared.
He looked beyond Dumbledore's shoulder and stared impassively at Neville. There was such emptiness in those eyes, a feeling of wrongness, the lack of humanity behind them, that made him want to spew. Voldemort slowly raised his hand, immediately putting Dumbledore on edge as he quickly erected a shield in front of them. Darkness started rising from below, Neville felt it tingling against his skin on the exposed sections of his leg. It reached Malfoy's limp body, crawling over his skin before it fully engulfed him. There was a sudden blare of light from Voldemort's red eyes, and Neville heard as the ropes binding the other Death Eater suddenly snapped.
"Neither of you are leaving," Dumbledore said calmly, looking even more on guard as the Death Eater rose from the ground and stared directly at him. "The Aurors are on their way."
"Do you still think they'll be able to hold me?" Voldemort asked impassively.
"I don't need them to."
Voldemort's eyes slowly glided towards Neville's, staring through them and directly at his soul. Neville took a step back, ashamed of himself even as he sought refuge behind Dumbledore. He had barely moved before he cried out in pain. What felt like a million, tiny knives began tearing into his legs, ripping his skin and muscle and digging as deep into him as possible. He wanted to jump, but there was nothing to hold onto. His legs were about to give up on him, but that would only leave his entire body open for attack. But before either of that happened, Fawkes suddenly appeared in a flash of fire and lit up the entire room with his flames.
His light filled up the entire room, chasing away the darkness and relighting all the torches in the atrium. Neville looked up just in time to watch Dumbledore use his hand to shove Voldemort and the Death Eater away, the two of them thrown back a few feet right before Neville was shoved backward by Dumbledore once again. He collided against the wall, but there was no pain as his back crashed against the wall. But before either Dumbledore or Voldemort could cast a single spell, a violent red bolt crossed the atrium, only to be intercepted by a quick shield from the Death Eater.
Seeing Junior easily block his curse, the weak bolt quickly dissolving only served to fuel his anger. Any apprehension he may have had at seeing Voldemort there, in person, for the first time was quickly shoved away. Anger was much easier to feel than fear, and he had that in spades. Voldemort turned towards him, his dead eyes scrutinizing him as if he was nothing but a particularly annoying fly, before he turned towards Junior.
"Control your pet, Ares."
Junior nodded harshly, turning on the spot as he began walking towards him. Dumbledore turned towards him, clearly wanting to interfere, only to be stopped by Voldemort launching a bombardment of killing curses towards him and Longbottom. And Harry couldn't help but feel glad about the interference. Walking far enough away from the battle behind him, Junior slowly leaned down and touched his wand to the floor. He suddenly slashed it, a long vertical line that immediately broke through the foundation and tore it open. The crack extended all over the atrium, splitting their little corner completely from the rest, as vicious blue flames erupted from the openings. They towered over the both of them, aggressively lashing out as if they were trying to strike the ceiling.
"You can't be here, Harry. I can't protect you if you-"
"You knew," the words left Harry's mouth before he realised what he'd said.
"I… what?" Junior took off his mask, gently putting it into his robes as he stared at Harry. Confusion was written all over his face. As if he didn't know. As if he didn't understand. As if he had done nothing wrong.
"You knew!"
Harry lost all self-control as he lunged towards his old mentor. He was far too angry for any curses. Far too gone to be able to think about anything but feeling his fists clash against Junior's jaw. The bastard looked alarmed, simultaneously trying to back away and calm him down at the same time. And when Harry jumped at him, Junior effortlessly stepped past him.
"Harry, you need to calm down-"
Harry growled. Pushing himself off the ground and lunging towards Junior again. He didn't want to hear it. His false platitudes. His professions of concern. Harry had thought he had seen who his old mentor really was after learning his name. But he had never seen him clearer than now. Barty Crouch Junior. All that rot, that repulsiveness to his being that was hidden behind his collected facade, behind that fabricated humanitarianism. And now that he saw it, Harry didn't know how he could have ever missed it.
The outpour of magic in front of Neville was suffocating, he could practically feel it smothering him against the wall. He wouldn't have been able to stand even if most of the flesh on the lower part of his legs hadn't been viciously ripped out. Even the other Neville - the Dark Neville - seemed entranced, unable to say a word as he stared at the duel between Albus Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort.
He had never seen a battle of this scale before, and seeing Voldemort duel with Dumbledore in such a way made Neville realise just how much he had been toying with him that night at the graveyard. They seemed to be able to cast three spells with every flick of their wand, Voldemort fully relying on killing curses as he mercilessly rained down on Dumbledore. But Dumbledore didn't attempt to shield them or dodge them. He didn't do any fancy transfigurations or conjurations to try and stop the curses. Instead, he blocked them with his own. Each one of their spells crashed against each other in the centre of the atrium, the collision of the high-powered sending lightning bolts all over the room.
They crashed against the walls, the fireplaces, the ceiling itself. The black obsidian all around the atrium violently shattered under the power of the two titans. It forced Neville to curl into a ball, using his remaining arm to shield his face as the sharp wreckage flew all around the room.
Voldemort suddenly switched up his strategy, blasting the ground in front of Dumbledore. He stepped backwards, immediately transfiguring the shrapnel from the explosion into tiny spurts of water. He managed to look up in time for seven snakes to appear in a semicircle in front of Voldemort. Voldemort hissed out his commands, flailing his wand brusquely, right before the snakes began growing. They slithered towards Dumbledore - towards Neville - their torso enlarging faster and faster by the minute.
Fire rained down from above as Fawkes soared downward. The bright orange flames encircled the snakes, stopping them in their tracks before they spread over to consume them. Voldemort immediately targeted the phoenix, launching killing curses that Dumbledore intercepted mid-air with his own spells. The shock-wave shook Neville back, the entire atrium consumed by the agonizing cries of the snakes. The fire and clashing of spells were too bright, making it nearly impossible to keep his eyes open.
All the flames suddenly disappeared, seemingly sucked into a non-existent vacuum by Dumbledore. He and Fawkes acted in tandem, pushing forward in a combined attack against Voldemort, slowly advancing across the atrium. Voldemort batted all of Dumbledore's spells away, somehow pushing Fawkes out of the way with his mere hand before he intercepted one of Dumbledore's incarcerous spells. The rope bound to his wand, creating an almost ridiculously long whip. He snapped it towards Dumbledore, forcing the Headmaster to swerve sideways, before he cracked it up above. The rope latched onto Fawkes' torso, tightly grabbing the phoenix before slamming it against the floor, momentarily dispatching with the bird.
"They were just kids!" He snarled as Junior once again evaded his strike. "They weren't a part of this! You had no right to use them like that!"
His words had shocked Junior long enough for Harry to land his first punch. His knuckles immediately flared up, but Harry relished the pain as he went for a second hit. Junior ducked out of the way, finally fighting back as he kicked Harry and threw him backwards. He landed on his knees, glaring up at Junior as a burst of heat hit the back of his neck. Harry harshly snapped his hand into the air, shooing his phoenix away. Junior wasn't even attacking him, he didn't need her for this.
"It wasn't like that," Junior defended himself. Harry quickly stood up, finally going for his wand as he hurled two curses at the bastard. But Junior managed to sidestep them both without even needing to put up a shield. "Longbottom was supposed to come alone. None of the others were meant to be here."
Harry tackled Junior, the two of them harshly falling onto the ground in their squabble. But Junior was taller than him. Stronger than him. Harry tried to punch him, scratch him, do anything to hurt him, but both his hands were quickly restrained. "And what about all the others? How many kids did you and your Death Eaters kill tonight while you were out having fun? Or do they just not count!"
"They were muggles!" Junior snapped, pushing Harry off of him before finally pulling his wand. Harry didn't even try to block, quickly jumping away from whatever spells Junior sent his way as he put more distance between them. "I didn't want any wizarding blood spilled tonight. I helped you save that girl! I've been trying to help you this entire time!"
"You would have gladly let her die if I hadn't been there!"
Albus forced himself to suppress his reaction when Fawkes was slammed violently against the wall. His phoenix would be alright, not even death was able to keep him from Albus long, but seeing such violence against his companion struck a nerve.
Black tentacles of cloth began stretching from Tom's robes, charging towards him as the two of them traded spells. He cut them off before they could get any closer, slicing away as they kept reforming and surging towards him. As Tom began to gain momentum, slowly inching towards him, Albus blasted a piece of the ceiling right above Tom, forcing him to protect himself from the stones and stop his attacks. Albus quickly dealt with the remaining tendrils before focusing on the fountain behind Tom. Swishing his wand upwards, he easily took control of the golden figures. They sprang from their position, all five magical creatures leaping from the water before targeting Tom.
The golden statues lunged at Tom, the witch, and wizard jamming at him with their wands while the goblin and house-elf leapt onto him, latching onto his arms and neck as they pinned him down. Tom fought them off, blasting the legs of the witch and wizard as he avoided their attacks, and then used the other two creatures to shield himself from Albus' attacks. The centaur galloped around Tom, pulling more arrows from its quiver, and Albus continued forward. One of his disarming charms finally hit Tom and the wand flew out of his hand, but Tom quickly reached out, and it flew right back. But right as his hand connected with the wand a golden arrow stuck him on his left arm.
Crying out in pain, Tom whipped out his wand and a thick, red ray burst out from his wand. It easily sliced the centaur in half, completely melting the obsidian on the wall behind it. It fell onto the ground, liquid gold pooling around where it lay, and Albus quickly summoned Neville to his side before putting all his power on a large shield to protect the two of them. It held, barely, and Albus watched through the translucent barrier as Tom melted the five statues until they were pools of liquid gold spread across the ground.
He turned his attention towards them, and his eyes went past Albus as they stared directly at Neville. Tom flicked his wand and the ground in front of him began shaking, moving, like a wave heading directly for the two of them. It went below his shield and suddenly, dozens of arms sprung from the ground below them. Human arms. Rotten, decaying, but still human. They grabbed at Neville's legs, the boy immediately screamed in pain as they clawed at his open wound. A sudden move from the corner of his eye suddenly made Albus snap his focus away, putting down his shield, he was forced to block Tom's relentless stream of killing curses.
He held onto Neville as he defended the two of them, but he was slowly getting pulled down further and further into the ground. And with Albus too focused on Tom, he lost Neville's grip and the boy fell to the ground. His legs were quickly pulled down under the floorboards, he was yelling, begging for help, desperately holding onto the floor as more arms rose and tried to push his head down further.
But then a loud cry of hope rang from above, a beautiful phoenix with orange and black feathers rushing down towards him. Albus' heart stopped, he nearly smiled at the sight. It wasn't Fawkes, he knew that immediately. It wasn't his phoenix. It wasn't here to help him. It was Neville's. Fate's intervention as it swooped down and clasped onto Neville, pulling him out of the ground. Out of Tom's clutches. And flying him to safety before it soared into the air and sent bursts of fire toward Tom, aiding Albus in his defence.
With Junior having pulled out his wand, the two of them trading spells, Harry felt transported back to his fourth year. Back when he enjoyed their little duels. Back when Junior was Moody, and Harry still believed there was someone who had actually grown to care for him. Someone who had seen his potential and taken him under his wing. Someone who would never lie to him. Would never betray him.
"You were my hero!" The words tore through his throat, tears began pooling around his eyes. Everything he had held back. All the things he had wanted to say, shout, fucking roared out at Junior were finally leaving his lips. "You meant everything to me!"
"I'm still that same man," Junior insisted, parrying Harry's curses before catching his leg with a whip and pulling it, sending Harry toppling to the ground. "I still care about you, Harry!"
Harry rubbed the back of his head, soothing the pain as he disintegrated the piece of rope tied to his leg. "You're no better than Graham." His eyes looked above the fire and landed on Aurora, he gave the phoenix a quick nod and she immediately changed direction.
"You don't have to do this!" Junior cried out. "You can step away. You can go. There's nothing you have done that can't be forgiven."
Harry growled, zigzagging around both of Junior's curses as he slowly closed the distance between the two of them. It was a stupid move, and he knew it. He was counting on it. Junior advanced on him, unleashing an unstoppable barrage of spells at Harry. Forced to roll forward, he evaded all of Junior's spells but had moved exactly as Junior wanted him to. Bent downwards, his wand hidden underneath his robes, he was helpless as Junior trained his wand just a few feet away from his face. Suddenly, there was a loud squawk that forced Junior to abruptly turn, He screamed out in pain as Aurora clawed at his face, dragging her talons across his cheeks.
Harry quickly lunged forward and pulled out his knife. He gripped the handle tightly. Junior's back was fully exposed to him, a dozen different areas where Harry could jam the knife in and finish with him once and for all. Right here. Right now. One less fucking Death Eater. He growled and thrust the blade forward, but his body did not comply. A small moment of hesitation was all Junior needed to fight off his phoenix, forcing Aurora to fly away as he launched a set of red and blue curses at her. She gracefully flew around them, and before Harry could doubt himself more, he raised the knife and plunged it down onto Junior's right shoulder.
Junior's elbow hit Harry in his gut, taking the breath out of his stomach as he doubled over. His head was swimming, and he was suddenly launched across the atrium, He landed awkwardly, his body bending and spinning out of control until he was a good fifteen feet away from Junior. And as Harry stood up, Junior gritted his teeth and pulled the knife out of his shoulder. Blood dripping down his cheek, he let the knife go, and it clattered onto the ground.
"I'm not looking for your forgiveness." Harry's voice shook, and at that moment, he felt whatever bond he used to have with Junior completely break irreparably.
Neville couldn't stop panting. Laying on the ground, far away from the fight between Dumbledore and Voldemort, he regained his breath and thanked the heavens for Fawkes. That was twice he owed the phoenix now. Looking up, the bird was nowhere to be seen. There was only Dumbledore and Voldemort, both of them still engaged in their vicious duel. And as he saw them, he felt anger rise to his chest. He'd spent the entire night being pushed around. Helpless. Having Potter and now Dumbledore coming to solve his problems.
It didn't matter that he was in pain. That he was well out of his mind at this point. He'd be fucking dammed if he allowed the night to end without standing up to Voldemort. Fully determined, he fished his wand out from where it was hidden beneath his cloak and jumped to his feet. Maybe he didn't have the magical knowledge of Dumbledore or the skill of Potter. But he had faced Voldemort before. He had beaten him. Forced him into a standstill. He would use every advantage he could get.
He began throwing spell after spell, putting all his might into them, only for them to stray severely from their target. The few that went near Voldemort easily blocked without even having to turn towards him. Neville growled out in rage and sped up his efforts. With the amount of spells Voldemort and Dumbledore were trading, it was only a matter of time. He just needed one shot. One spell would do it. And then Dumbledore would be able to take him down once and for all.
Neville kept going. Putting more and more power. Launching faster and faster. And then it happened. He felt it the moment they collided, a shock wave that nearly threw him on his bum. But instead of the reaction that had happened when Voldemort and Dumbledore's spells collided, Neville felt the connection locking his wand, the golden bolt pushing back at him as their contest of wills began.
The golden cage began springing from the thread, encompassing him and Voldemort as it excluded Dumbledore. And then, Voldemort turned his gaze towards him.
"We're not playing this game again."
Voldemort snapped his wand upwards, pulling the connective thread with him and crashing it against the ceiling. The whole atrium shook at the contact, the ceiling quickly cracking and tearing itself open before it began raining down on them. Neville barely had time to watch as Voldemort shielded himself from the massive slabs of stone that fell onto the ground before he was pulled into Dumbledore's embrace.
As the words left his mouth, a part of Harry wanted to take them back. The urge was so strong, but at the same time, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Junior looked as devastated as Harry felt, but before either of them could say another word, the entire atrium shook. The massive shock-wave blew out half the torches in the atrium and then, the ceiling fell upon them.
He swayed backwards. With his magic so weak, shielding himself wasn't an option. He needed to try and avoid the debris. He needed to find any gaps he could. He needed-
The air was sucked out of him once again as he was physically pushed from where he had been standing. He fell onto the ground, landing on his back, as the deafening crash right beside his ears sent a wave of dust and rocks at him. Harry barely had time to protect his face, he curled into a ball and tried to make himself as little as possible as the entire roof kept falling on top of them. And when the calamity stopped and silence reigned in the atrium, Harry found himself miraculously untouched.
He struggled up to his knees and saw half of the atrium completely covered in what used to be the ceiling. The massive stones created a sort of maze of dust and debris, having covered over most of the wall of fire that Junior had conjured and completely blocked off the access to the elevators. Harry couldn't see Longbottom or Dumbledore. He couldn't see Voldemort. But somehow, Harry didn't think they perished in the wreck.
A pained groan caught his attention, and Harry immediately sprung to action. Vaulting over the debris in front of him, Harry didn't have to walk too far to find Junior sprawled over the ground, reaching over for his wand as his legs were pinned down by a massive amalgamation of rocks. His fingers were itching forward, so close to circling his wand before Harry ran forward and kicked it out of the way. Barty groaned in anger and glared up at him.
"I'm not your enemy!"
"You're not my friend either," Harry told him.
Blasts began echoing from the other side of the room. His heart began beating heavier in his chest. Dumbledore was here. The Weasleys were safe. Granger and Longbottom were safe. There was no other reason why he should be there. And yet, he couldn't stop himself from running ahead, climbing one of the many wreckages in front of him and staring ardently ahead.
It wasn't as if he could play a neutral role in the war after all the Death Eaters he had killed tonight.
With a single flick of his wand, Voldemort cleared the destroyed all the rubble around him and walked forward, staring emotionlessly at Neville. Dumbledore placed himself in front of him, but Neville shook him, shook off his arm, and stepped forward. He would stand tall. He would prove to Dumbledore that he was worthy. And equal. The two of them would face Voldemort together. Fawkes suddenly burst from the wreckage, flying circles around them, only to be joined by a second phoenix a few moments later. A phoenix with thick, black feathers coating its back. The phoenix that had saved him only a few moments before.
But before he could think further about it, there was a grunt from behind him. Neville turned just in time to see Potter jump down towards them, landing on the other side of Dumbledore without taking his eyes off Voldemort.
"This is my first time duelling him," Potter said tightly. "Any advice?"
"Don't get hit by the green ones," Neville growled.
Voldemort began his onslaught, targetting both Potter and Neville with his killing curses. When he realised this, Dumbledore stepped forward, once again intercepting the killing curses with his spells. Potter quickly moved towards Neville, pushing both of them to the ground as lightning began shooting in every possible direction. "Shield!" Potter snarled, and Neville scoffed but did as he was told, erecting a large shield strong enough to absorb the bolts that blasted towards their general direction.
Fawkes and the other phoenix began working in perfect symphony, with one plummeting downwards and aiming at clawing at Voldemort's face, while the other one launched spurts of fire that made him retreat. Soon enough, the phoenixes occupied too much of his focus that Dumbledore was able to push forward, no longer on the defensive as he tried to capture, stun, and disarm Voldemort.
"We have to surround him. Cover me!"
And without waiting for a response, Potter jumped up from the ground and ran to the other side. Barely giving any time for Neville to dispel the shield and pull himself upward.
Albus immediately realised what the boys wanted to do when he saw Harry run behind him and start to flank Tom from his right. He was launching curse after curse, not stopping for a moment in his attack, and forcing Tom to waste the smallest of times to also block his attacks. Neville soon joined him on the left, initiating his own attacks while also casting shields that absorbed the few curses Tom managed to squeeze out against not just himself, but Harry as well.
He couldn't put them at risk any further. He needed to end this now. Albus continued moving forward as the two phoenixes rained down hell upon Tom. He was overwhelmed. There were too many of them. There was nothing he was able to do. The few attacks he managed to send out were easily blocked by him and Neville, and even Harry managed to dodge a few of them, transfiguring the ground into steps that allowed him to vault over the curses sent his way.
The boys were gaining confidence. Spreading themselves further and further, and Albus was struggling to follow in their fury. But he managed, pinning Tom down until he truly couldn't cast a single curse against them any more. They had him. Pinned. Dead to rights. There hadn't been a single time in the first wizarding war when Tom had been put in such a perilous position as this one.
But with danger came desperation. He saw it in Tom's eyes, the powerful gleam behind them, right before he shouted and let out a wave of darkness that pushed all three of them to the ground. The phoenixes fled from it. At that moment, with the three of them out of action, Tom stepped forward, placing himself right between Harry and Neville, glaring down directly at Albus.
Both boys stood up quickly, Albus following suit. But before either of them could cast any spells, a cloud of black smoke exploded from Tom's chest and soared upwards, with Tom's body slowly disintegrating as more and more smoke began forming a cloud in the middle of the collapsed atrium. Albus had seen Tom fly before, adopt that gaseous form. He'd seen the Death Eaters do it as well. And he had done it, taught it to the Order, as well. But this… this wasn't anything like that. This was a much fouler magic. And though it looked nearly the same, Albus could feel the vileness emanating from it.
The smoke made a loud, high-pitched sound right before it plunged towards Neville. Albus quickly rushed to his side, placing a powerful shield between the two of them right as the smoke crashed against it. He could feel Tom's essence fighting against it, his strong willpower forcing Albus to continue feeding power to the shield just to keep it standing. It was a brutal contest, and right as sweat started pooling across Albus' forehead, Tom suddenly retreated, flying all across the room before it dived onto Harry.
Albus felt his heart stop as he watched the smoke crash against Harry. It didn't push him down to the ground. It didn't immediately kill him or thrust him into the sky. Harry was left with his feet firmly planted on the ground as the smoke began entering into Harry. Entering through his eyes, his nose, his ears, and mouth, and any opening the smoke could find. It seemed to go on and on, taking an entire eternity as it kept pushing deeper inside him. But Albus had barely managed to dispel his shield and take a step forward before the smoke had fully disappeared and Harry suddenly dropped to the ground.
"Harry!" Albus cried out, rushing to his side and dropping to his knees. The boy was writhing on the ground, his face twisted into a grim expression before he suddenly started shouting. It was filled with agony, it seemed to rip through his throat, burning his insides as he screamed out. His body started convulsing more and more violently. Nails scratching the floor until they snapped off completely and blood started coming out.
Neville's phoenix flew down beside Harry, crying a mournful song as it cried on him. But not even the phoenix tears were powerful enough to rid him of Tom's intrusion. As Albus stared at the creature, his hope plummeting as he was left helpless to do anything but watch, something inside him suddenly clicked, and it felt as if the entire world had just been lit up in a whole different light.
This had never been Neville's phoenix.
And as that realisation spread through his chest, Harry's neck suddenly snapped towards Albus. His eyes were blood-red.
"If I can't take Longbottom…" Tom's voice came out of Harry's mouth, his body contorting painfully. "I'll have to settle for this one."
Harry's head felt like it was about to burst. As if a thousand miniature piranhas had suddenly formed inside his head and were biting through his brain. Quick flashes of memories assaulted him, countless of them, each barely lasting a millisecond before the next one came in. The Dursleys. Trying to learn the Patronus charm. Crying in his crib. His first day in Slytherin. Umbridge talking to him after Susan's murder. Everything he'd lived kept coming at him in a random, barely sensible order. A groan of pain left his mouth, his body twisting on the ground, desperate to find any reprieve from the unbearable headache.
In that storm of memories, Harry began to remember something vividly. London on fire. Montague at Hogwarts. Weasleys in danger. Junior. Voldemort. Atrium.
His eyes snapped open, and he groggily took in his surroundings. The white and pink colour of the walls. The wooden stairs with a small cupboard. The expensive furniture in the living room, perfectly maintained and barely appeared lived-in. The dim, purple light peering into the house from outside the windows. Harry immediately knew where he was.
He stood up shakily. It wasn't just his head that was hurting, but his entire body that screamed out in agony. It made sense, after all, he was back inside his mind. Whatever Voldemort was doing to him, it was even more painful than Snape's little stunt back in December.
"You must think you're very brave," a familiar voice spoke from behind him, and Harry immediately tensed. His body went rigid, the hairs on his arm quickly standing up at his mere voice. "Most can't even bear to think my name, much less speak it. And yet, you do both."
Slowly, he turned around to face him. He should have expected him. It had only been a few minutes since he had stared into his eyes and gathered the courage to fight him. But it was something completely different to look at Voldemort than to come face to face with Tom Riddle in his sixteen-year-old form, sitting in his uncle's chair, tea in hand as he looked up at him. Not after everything Tom had done to him.
"You know my name," Tom's voice became more guarded. "How curious."
Just then, Harry felt a harsh pang that coursed through his entire body, even the ground below them moved as Voldemort hastened his progress, tearing through his mind like it was nothing more than his playground. Skimming through his memories, and Harry knew why.
"You'll find it soon enough," Harry told him, finding his voice. "It's quite fresh on my mind."
Tom scoffed, the cup of tea in his hand disappearing as he stood up and towered over him. "Mind… what a pathetic excuse for one. But then again, you are the pathetic sort, aren't you, Harry Potter? Letting your filthy muggle guardians mistreat you that way, exploit you that way. Crying every night because your big bad cousin beat you. Because you couldn't make any friends at school. At Hogwarts. Constantly wanting mummy and daddy to come down here and solve all your problems."
"You know nothing about me."
"I know everything about you. I am seeing it all, right now, as we speak. Your weaknesses. Your woeful little attempts at convincing yourself you're strong. Powerful. Someone who deserves respect. You don't. You're nothing but an emotional little brat who cries a little too much. I truly don't know how you have yet to end your own life. I'd rather that to living your pitiful existence"
"Those are big words, Tom," Harry said, trying to sound confident even as his voice shook. "Especially for someone who couldn't walk into his common room without being pinned to the wall and beaten by his house-mates."
Tom's eyes flashed dangerously and Harry took a step back. His entire world exploded in pain as Voldemort began ripping through his mind more harshly than ever. He fell to his knees, feeling as the small island that held Number Four Privet Drive began crumbling under his ministrations.
"You have clearly met me before. So how about you make this easier on the both of us and tell me how."
Harry only gave a bitter laugh at that.
It was something to want someone dead and to actually see them in pain. Especially in such a gruesome, disconcerting manner. It was meant to be him on the ground. His body twisted in pain as Voldemort used it as a puppet, causing unimaginable pain. And though he was so grateful he wasn't in that position, Neville couldn't help but feel pity for Potter. He had come here for them. Come here to fix Neville's mistake. And now Voldemort was going to kill him.
Dumbledore leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "Harry… you're stronger than him. Don't let him beat you. Show him that inner strength I know you have."
The words fell on deaf ears, Harry continued to writhe against the ground and howl in pain. But Neville heard them. After months of trying to get Dumbledore to notice him, to pay attention to him and actually talk to him, to simply acknowledge his existence, only to get brusquely shoved away, Neville couldn't help the flare of anger that consumed him as he watched the one person he looked up to all but replace him for Potter - the random boy Dumbledore hadn't even known existed less than a year ago.
He tried to stop himself from crying from the pain. He didn't want to give Tom the satisfaction of seeing him on the ground, yelling with tears on his face, as he mentally begged for the pain to stop. But with Tom in his mind, Harry was sure he heard that too. And he hated himself for it. Still, he kept his mouth shut, forcing Voldemort to keep scouring through his brain as he searched for his answer. If he was going to rip him apart from the inside out as Snape had constantly told him he would, he wouldn't make it any easier for Voldemort.
Harry knew instantly when Voldemort found the memory, the assault slowing down for just a moment before Tom grabbed him by the shirt and forced him to his feet.
"My diary…" There was something behind his tone, almost like fear. "You found my diary."
"Your diary found me," Harry gritted out. "You've got no one to blame but yourself."
Tom scoffed and let him go, Harry crashing to his knees as Tom began to pace in front of him, resuming his mental attack in full force. "A host? Really? I must have been dumber than I remember, for I can't see a single thing my younger self would see in you to make you the instrument of my return." Memories continued to flash inside Harry's mind, all of his experiences with Tom replaying themselves before his eyes. "Oh, but he had you so enraptured. And so easily, too. It would have almost been admirable if you weren't so easily manipulated. Still… it's good to know what became of my diary."
Voldemort forced himself deeper into his mind, ripping out yet another scream from his throat. The entire house began to shake, the portraits hanging on the walls falling to the ground as the walls started to rip themselves open. Harry tried to force himself to stand up, but couldn't muster the effort. History lesson with Binns. Meeting Aunt Marge. Seeing Hogwarts for the first time. Elijah hanging from chains in the Room of Requirement. Pansy telling him about the meeting with her grandfather.
Voldemort completely stopped, his mind finally getting the reprieve he had been begging for, before he dove right back in.
"Quite a relationship you have with Miss Parkinson, don't you? And her family, oh, you're so well-connected with them." Tom spat, picking up Harry and pinning him against a wall. "I saw our dear Bedivere earlier tonight. He was somewhere where he was not supposed to be. I wonder, have you been somewhere where you weren't supposed to be, Harry Potter?"
"Hey, it was your younger self who took me to the girl's bathroom. Not me." Harry said with a vicious smirk.
Tom pushed him more roughly against the wall, Voldemort scouring his mind for any memories connected to Pansy. To Kieran. Bedivere. Anyone with the name Parkinson. "There are gaps, I can feel them. Powerful magic. Oh, so very powerful. Far above your level. It seems you're well acquainted with the old man. But who else is involved?"
"No," Harry gritted out. He didn't care if Voldemort knew about his involvement. Hell, even about Bedivere's. But he couldn't. Not them. He had to stop him. Despite the agonizing pain, he searched inside him, trying to push Voldemort out. Snape had given him a gift with those Occlumency shields for a reason. It was time to use them. He tried closing his mind, he tried pushing Voldemort out. But he only felt more suffocated the moment they closed around him.
"Oh, those won't work on me. I'm not some outsider trying to peer in. I am you. I am in your entire being. There is nothing you can do to push me out of here."
Harry snarled out, grasping onto Tom's shoulders just to keep himself standing. Voldemort wouldn't find out, Harry would kill himself before he let that happen.
The Trials… they change a person. It brings several side effects, but there is one that is more notable than the others. Bedivere's words suddenly rang inside his head, as if the old man himself had heard his desperation and decided to step in and lend a hand. They stop feeling until there's nothing to feel. Until they can't feel anything they touch, can't taste anything they eat. Their bodies, their very souls become animotophobic.
Harry's eyes widened, the realisation going unnoticed by Tom, protected by the memory lock Bedivere had placed on Harry. That was it, like a mental Patronus. Tom raised an eyebrow at him, staring at him as if he were insane, but he ignored him. Closing his eyes, he searched into his mind. Tried to remember a happy memory, anything that might push him away. Anything he could scrape. Any sliver of it. Forgetting for a moment where he was standing as he fully immersed himself in those memories.
"Look," Theo interrupted before he could say anything. "I know that you're pissed about… well… everything, and I honestly can't blame you. We were kids, man, we were more than that, we were arseholes - and I am sorry about everything, I really am. I've been an arsehole to you, and you've been just as much of a dick towards me, but I want to stop that cycle. So how about we call it even, start from a clean slate?" Theo stretched his hand towards him.
"Hello, I'm Theo Nott."
"Harry Potter," he said, his voice coming out croaked.
Theo smiled. "A pleasure, Mister Potter."
Harry turned to look at Parkinson, unsure.
"Oh, I'm not doing that gay, kumbaya, let's hold hands shit or anything like that, but I'm down for the clean slate thing."
Harry let out a small laugh at that. "Very well then."
"That was…"
"Yeah," Harry replied breathlessly when she trailed off. He looked at her hopeful, and she smirked.
"Wanna go again? Already?"
"That can't have been your first kiss," Harry stated, ignoring the teasing question.
"What, was I that good?"
"God, you're worse than me."
Susan giggled, drawing Harry's eyes to her lips once more.
"Harry… you're not evil. You're not unlovable. There is so much good inside you, I can feel it. Someone who didn't wouldn't hurt so much over the bad things they've done. They wouldn't feel all the pain and guilt that I know you feel. All those things you wish you could stop feeling show just how much good there is inside you. How much strength. You're not weak or broken, Harry. You have no idea how strong you truly are."
"No," Harry croaked out. "You… it's just all excuses. It doesn't change who I am."
"We all make mistakes, Harry. We all do things we aren't proud of. Things we wish we could change. But just because we can't go back and change them doesn't mean we can't change ourselves and strive to be better."
"But I can't!" He shouted, feeling himself about to lose control. "Don't you get it? I'm so fucked up, I don't even know what's right and what's wrong any more. No matter what I do, I'll just end up making things worse."
"No, you won't," Mrs Weasley said earnestly, and suddenly, she did something Harry would have never expected. She pulled him in and brought him into a tight hug. "You're not alone any more," she whispered to him, and Harry finally felt himself lose control.
His eyes started stinging even as his laughter refused to stop. He was overcome with a raw sense of emotion, one where he felt his walls come down completely for a moment, and he couldn't help but simply bask in the feeling. As the phoenix continued flying away from the castle, carrying him and occasionally throwing him up in the air before catching him, he allowed himself to believe that maybe it was worth it.
Maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel after all.
As they crossed the Hogwarts wards, Harry turned up and finally looked at the phoenix in the eyes. And somehow, he already knew her name.
Aurora.
Harry was abruptly brought out of his memories when he heard Tom laughing at him. It was cold and high and mocking, and it completely took the wind out of everything he was trying to feel at that moment. Tom threw his head back and laughed even harder, letting go of Harry and causing him to crumble back to the ground. Shame and misery swamping him.
Albus' head snapped from Harry as the floos around them suddenly flared. It wasn't just one, dozens of them all around the atrium had wizards flowing out of them. Everyone who was anyone in the Ministry began walking out of the green flames, stopping as they surveyed the wreckage in front of them before their eyes settled on Harry's convulsing for on the ground.
Aurors, ministry officials, Wizengamot members, and even reporters began stepping out with their cameras immediately snapping pictures. Rufus Scrimgeour limped out of one. A grimy, battle-ridden Umbridge exited right behind him. But it was when a rattled Fudge stepped out of one of the chimneys and demanded to know what was going on that Albus acted as he cast two tall impenetrable shields right in front of both rows of floo fireplaces. This set off everyone, with Fudge and others demanding that he take it down.
But when Bedivere Parkinson stepped out of a lone fireplace, a young man beside him, all the voices faded from his ears as Albus stared at the man he had duelled only an hour ago. He looked as if he had just been woken up, not a speck of grime on his face or robes, only the smallest hints of a self-satisfied smile as he looked directly at Albus.
The crowd's sudden screams of terror broke Albus from his trance, and his heart fell as he watched Harry's body be magically lifted from the ground, hovering above everyone in sight. Lights flashed as reporters continued taking pictures. Capturing as Harry's body was stretched as far as his ligaments would allow as he cried out in agony.
"So this is the mighty Harry Potter's grand stand. Pathetic sentimentality." Tom's voice was filled with contempt. And even if he had been physically able to stand on his feet, Harry didn't think he could have mustered the courage to do so. "So weak. So vulnerable."
Harry pressed his face against the carpet and gritted his teeth. The entire house was coming down around him, slowly falling off into the purple abyss around him. This was how he was going to die, kneeling in front of Tom Bloody Riddle after trying to use the fucking power of friendship to save himself. It was hard not to agree with those mocking words at the moment.
"Ares holds you in hard regard. I previously counted on his counsel, but after this colossal lapse in judgment, how could I ever take his word again? You're not worthy of his attention, you're barely worthy of your own life. This is a mercy killing at best."
Harry actually growled at those words. He raked his nails through the carpet, screaming through the pain as he raised his gaze and his eyes settled on Tom's. This wasn't it. He was not going to go like this. After all he'd endured, all he'd survived, he wouldn't go down on his knees. He'd die fucking standing, knowing he did everything he fucking could and that he didn't give up like a pathetic little pussy. He was fucking strong, and he'd proved that over and over again. Because after Montague, after Dolohov and Snape and Junior and every other bastard that came into his life and tried to use him, torture him, kill him, he never gave up! Even when his body was begging him to, he never did. He never gave-
You and Andromeda and Ginny and Dumbledore… you've all asked me how I feel. The truth is… I wish I couldn't feel a fucking thing.
Harry's eyes suddenly widened, the words echoing in his mind as he stared deep into Tom Riddle's eyes. And at that moment, he realised the truth. He understood Voldemort better than anyone else ever had. With a single phrase, everything he knew about Tom suddenly shifted, suddenly connected. He didn't even need to learn everything else, Tom's entire life history fell into place before his eyes as he understood. He fucking understood!
"No," Barty breathed out when he saw Harry's body flying above the rubble. He had seen this various times before, one of the Dark Lord's preferred methods of torturing someone to the brink right before he killed them. "No!"
He struggled against the massive slabs that were pinning him down, his shattered legs blaring in pain as he tried to force them to move. If that idiot hadn't kicked the wand away from him. If he had just listened to him when Barty had told him to get out of there.
"Not Harry. Not him. Anyone but him!"
"You're the weak one." It wasn't an accusation. It was a fact. All that anger he had felt had gone. Eradicated in a second. All the fear and rage he had for Tom no longer existed in him. There was nothing but pity in his heart for Lord Voldemort.
"What's that?" Tom asked, his voice suddenly deadly cold.
"Oh, that can be a hard pill to swallow, I'm sure. " Picking himself up from the ground, Harry withstood the pain. Forced it to the back of his mind and focused fully on Tom. And as he stood in front of the sixteen-year-old boy, he didn't seem so tall any more. "But I'm right… I'm right and you know it. You're the weak one."
"I am Lord Voldemort," Tom seethed. "The most powerful Dark Lord that Britain has ever encountered. How dare you stand there and call me weak!"
The anger was clear, and Harry felt it. Vividly. Tom took it out on him, no longer scouring through his memories but actively ripping his mind open, trying his very best to cause as much pain as humanly possible. And Harry took it. He took it all. Just as he always had. And he stepped forward.
"Oh, I'm sure that's what you want to believe. You've done your best to convince everyone of it. The big bad Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. There is no one stronger, no one scarier than him. But it's all a big lie, isn't it? A facade. We all have our ways of making ourselves feel powerful, and yours was simply becoming Lord Voldemort."
"I don't need to do that. I'm nothing like you."
"Oh, but you are. So very much like me, it's hard to unsee it. You must have been terrified when you realised we had found out about your Horcruxes. Oh, yes, they are how we're going to kill you - kill you so very dead - but they're so much more than that, aren't they? You made your Horcruxes to protect yourself, but not like the others think. You were never after immortality. You just wanted the other thing, didn't you? You wanted to not feel a fucking thing."
Tom scoffed, leaning back against the table behind him. But there was something off about his demeanour. And though Harry didn't need the confirmation, it was so satisfying to be proven right.
"You were desperate. You couldn't handle what it was like, and you just gave up. Easy as that, better to split your soul and quit than to deal with it. And then you go around and mock people for their feelings. For enduring everything you couldn't. For trying to cling to the only thing you never managed to find. It must have been so easy when you knew it wouldn't affect you. You had cleansed yourself of that weakness, and you were proud of it."
Tom looked so arrogant. So done with the conversation. Harry could still feel him trying to shut him up, torturing his mind, desperately begging him to shut up. And Harry couldn't help but smirk.
"But I haven't cleansed myself of that, have I?"
Taking a deep breath, Harry closed his eyes. He was more afraid than he wanted to admit. There was a reason why he'd locked everything up. Why he had refused to talk about it, to do anything that might risk reliving it all over again. But he wouldn't be the only one. And so he opened his mind, opened his heart, and dove back into those unbearable memories. All those moments when the world mercilessly punished him. Beat him down. Tried its best to break his spirit. He basked in those emotions, basked in the pain. The heartbreak. The betrayal. He basked on all the injustices the world had done to him, allowing them to fill him up, and spread themselves through his entire being.
When he opened his eyes, he was already crying, and Tom looked pale. He looked utterly terrified. And as he once again put his Occlumency shields back up and locked the two of them in his mind, he continued talking.
"It's been a while for you, so I think you're owed a bit of a reminder as to what it's like to feel things again. It fucking sucks," Harry barked out a laugh, tears dripping down his cheek as he forced himself to bask in the overwhelming pain. "And you, Tom, you picked the very worst fucker you could have for this. Because I have lived through fucking everything. My parents were tortured and murdered in front of me when I was just a baby. I was sent to live with my abusive aunt and uncle for the next ten years. It wasn't until I went to Hogwarts that I gained my first friend… and he betrayed me!"
A shadow appeared behind the form of Tom Riddle. It raised its hand and plunged a knife downwards, stabbing him in his upper left back. Tom immediately screamed out in pain, falling to his knees and trying to fight his attacker off as the figure emerged from the shadows, and the face of Graham Montague grinned down at him.
"He strung me up in the Slytherin Common Room before he tortured me for hours. He and his friends laughing at me while I screamed out in pain!"
Tom fumbled for his wand, pulling it out from his robes as a small diary suddenly landed in front of him. It suddenly opened, and a hand reached out from it, grabbing Tom's wand hand before slamming it to the ground.
"I was manipulated and nearly possessed by the Horcrux of the man responsible for my parents' deaths!"
The temperature inside the house suddenly dropped. Loud moans echoed behind Harry as Tom struggled. The diary kept its hold, Montague continued carving at Tom's back, and two dementors flew from behind Harry and settled themselves right on top of Tom, feeding off of him as Tom gave out an agonizing scream that filled the entire house.
"I was subjected to the dementors for over a year. Over and over they fed on me while the only person who could have taught me how to defend myself threw me away!"
"STOP!" Tom shouted. "STOP THIS! STOP THIS NOW, I BEG OF YOU! LET IT END! LET IT END!"
Harry felt as Voldemort rattled against his Occlumency, desperate to get out, but Harry held on tightly. He gave everything he had to keep those shields up as he forced Tom Riddle inside his body. He wasn't done with him yet.
"I have been abandoned by the people that were supposed to take care of me! Betrayed by those I trusted! I have lost things - you will never understand! And I've faced pain-"
"STOP! STOP THIS NOW!"
"Enough pain to make a seven-year-old cry himself to sleep every night! Enough pain to make a thirteen-year-old want to take his own life! Enough pain… to make a Dark Lord fall to his knees!"
"STOP!"
Harry felt as Voldemort finally pierced through his Occlumency right before something pulled him out of his mind.
Harry's eyes suddenly open as his body falls to the ground. He still felt it, the soreness, the tiredness from hours of running and fighting. Lights flashed around him. Aurora was flying right behind him, singing a hopeful tune that immediately soothed his soul. And then, he felt it. The smoke exploded out of him. Rapidly leaving his body from his mouth and ears and every other orifice from which it entered.
Forcing his legs to move, Harry picked himself up as the smoke continued to rush out of him, pooling onto the ground in front of him. Dumbledore was facing him wide-eyed, Longbottom looking somehow furious and pale behind him. And as Harry finally stood to his full height, feeling as Aurora light her wings and perch herself on his shoulder, the black pool of smoke on the floor turned into Lord Voldemort on his knees.
Not Tom Riddle, the sixteen-year-old that had haunted Harry's nightmares for years. But Lord Voldemort, the pitiful man he had become the moment he gave up. He looked up, and though he was back in the safety of his own body, without Harry's pesky soul to force his feelings onto him, there was an obvious fear in Voldemort's eyes as he stared up at Harry. It went away quickly, but Harry had seen it. Dumbledore had seen it. And more importantly, Voldemort had lived it.
And Harry smiled.
Lights flashed all around him, earning Voldemort's attention for half a second before he transformed back into a cloud of smoke and flew through the rubble towards the last place Harry had seen Junior. There was a sudden clamour in the room, footsteps rushing, even Dumbledore turned and Harry could tell he was considering going after him. But there was no need, and Harry knew it.
Voldemort was already gone. Junior too. And finally, the night was over.
That's it for this chapter and the FIFTH-YEAR FINALE, thank you all for reading!
By the time I'm posting this, I'm TWELVE chapters ahead, and have just finished writing the last chapter of the last arc of fifth-year titled No Rest For The Wicked! I AM OFFICIALLY DONE WITH FIFTH-YEAR! If you are interested in learning how to get early access to them, join my discord server using the following link: discord . gg / jyPfbGqhJT
As always, thank you for reading, favouriting, and commenting! I appreciate all of you! :)