Harry potter and the Time of Retirement
Everything related to Harry Potter belongs to JKR
Chapter 80 – Year 4
Harry awoke in darkness. His hands bound behind him, his body feeling sore everywhere, his mouth obstructed by something. Except it was not darkness, not really… it seemed almost like he could see at the borders of his sight. And that feeling… 'a mouthgag' thought Harry. 'Then I must be blindfolded, too'.
In any case he would have not been left confused for long. "He is awake again, my lord. Should I remove his restraints?" said a voice Harry couldn't recognize. He recognized quite well, instead, the almost hissing tone of the reply that followed.
"To hear his pleads, or his insults? No, let's just proceed. We can toy with him later" said Riddle. Voldemort.
"As you order, my lord. All the ingredients are ready and so is the cauldron. We can start on your command" said the unknown voice.
"You have it. Begin" answered Riddle.
Various sounds and rustles followed, while Harry tried to cast a Finite on his bindings. Nothing, they didn't disappear. Using strength didn't help either, the knots resisting easily against his efforts. Meanwhile, he could hear a sound of something being dropped inside a liquid. He knew very well what it was.
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son" started another, unknown voice. One with a distinctly younger tone than the first one. Harry felt a wave of heat coming from the cauldron, but nothing else happened.
When the new voice restarted, it was with grim determination. "Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master!" it continued, with a gasp of pain at the end of it followed by several pants. Still, the ritual didn't stop and soon after another plopping sound could be heard.
When the voice spoke for the third time, it was brittle and unsure. "Blood of the enemy, forcibly given, you will resurrect your foe". Immediately, Harry felt a sharp pain in his shoulder – no doubt his blood being collected. For a couple seconds, nothing. And then, a flash: a light bright enough that it passed through his blindfold.
More darkness and quiet followed until a new, unknow voice spoke. There was no mistaking whom it belonged to, and yet it sounded so… normal, enough to leave Harry puzzled.
"My robes, and my wand" he said, and more rustling sounds followed, until Riddle sighed with satisfaction. "Magic is my greatest ally, Crouch. It never fails those that trust in it. But, among my servants, your loyalty has been exceptional and so will be your reward. For now, you must be healed."
"I am honored that my sacrifice could assist you, my lord" said the voice, pain still noticeable in its tone but now mixed with pride. 'Crouch?' thought Harry. 'Senior or…' he wondered, thinking of how nothing had been heard of Crouch Jr. all year long. 'What happened these last months?'
"Thank you, my lord. I will treasure your gift" said Crouch.
"Not for long, I hope" continued Riddle. "We still have your father, and your elf, under control… maybe I could adapt the ritual to you, give you back your real hand. Eventually."
"Only if you so wish, my lord" said Crouch.
"Nevertheless, the ritual was a success. Step aside, Crouch, it is time to celebrate" spoke on Riddle, now with dark amusement in his voice. "Let's hear from my guest. Remove his restraints."
There was the sound of steps approaching, and then someone roughly started to handle Harry. His gag was removed, and then his blindfold, the sudden lights forcing him to close his eyes for an instant as someone removed, finally, the bindings on his hands and placed his eyeglasses back on his face. When he opened his eyes once more, he could finally take in where he was.
The room was large, well lit and properly decorated, with a large table and pairing chairs moved away to the side. There were windows, sure, but they were covered with heavy blankets letting only some light filter in, the rest being provided by lanterns. In one corner, close to Harry, a cauldron: its flame already extinguished, only embers remaining under it. At the end of the room were four men: three together, in simple black robes with their heads covered in hoods, two much larger than the last one who, judging by his new shiny silvery hand, must have been Crouch. It was the last man, though, that drew his attention: sitting down in the center, bare face and a black wand in his right hand, he was staring at Harry with clear interest.
He was handsome, the older version of someone Harry met so many years prior. A face he also had never seen in person, only in some of Dumbledore's old memories, a lifetime ago.
"Potter" started the man, Riddle, producing a mean smile. "I hope you remember our last meeting. If you don't, let me give you a refresher."
"You said we would meet again, and obviously" he continued, waving his left hand around the room "you were correct. I said that you would regret it, and believe me boy…" said Riddle, now leaning forward "I too was correct."
"You seem to be enjoying this" said Harry, trying to regain his focus. "No matter what happens tonight know that my godfather, Sirius Black, will avenge me."
"I am shaking in fear" countered Riddle, leaning back. "Is this the best you can throw at me, Potter? You were so confident in yourself last time, so impudent. Are you so intimidated you lost all your spunk?"
"If you want to know what I really think, give me back my wand" said Harry only for Riddle to start laughing, softly.
"This might surprise you, but I plan to do exactly that. I will enjoy putting you in your place" claimed Riddle, with a confident smile. "All in due time, though. For now, we must talk."
"You old men, always wanting to chat. My godfather, Sirius Black, is the same. Learn to be silent sometimes" said Harry with disdain, only for Riddle to raise one of his eyebrows in derision.
"And yet you must be fond of him, with how often you repeat his name. Maybe I should memorize his name, just to be sure I won't forget it. Sirius Black, you said?"
Harry didn't answer, now wary, and Riddle went on. "Please confirm it, my dear Harry. Sirius Black, right? Sirius Black!" he went on, now clearly amused. "Oh, you could have been more subtle about it, but in truth it would have changed little! My servants found your Mirror, even if only I could identify it correctly. Apparently it prevented them from transfiguring you, and they got suspicious. I assume it calls out to the aurors?
"Assume what you want" said Harry, his blood now turning cold with fear and resignation. "Who among your lackeys searched me anyway? Not the same faggot that kissed me while disguised as a little girl, I hope."
"Did you really do that, Goyle?" asked Riddle, scoffing, turning his stare towards his right side as one of the larger black-robed men seemed to be shaking in anger. Or embarrassment. "Well, just one more proof that I choose wisely revealing myself to them. Their loyalty wasn't as pure as it should have been, wavering the second the world thought I had been defeated."
"And yet" continued Riddle, his voice raising in pitch and volume "once I approached them, I could count on their help. Under the lead of what might be not my brightest, but are at least are my most brutal subjects, my followers are gathering once more and soon I will receive what I am owed!"
"Congratulations" commented Harry, bitterly. "Did you even believe them when they said they were loyal all while denouncing your name? I wouldn't expect you to give them any trust, at all."
"I took a calculated risk, Potter" said Riddle, cold satisfaction oozing from his voice now. "I certainly owe you my gratitude, for pushing me into this decision."
At Harry's frown, Riddle smirked. "Oh, yes. As I said before you managed to impress me last time we met, Potter. Your skills, stolen as they are, were a clear sign that you must not be allowed to grow further, no matter the cost. Your… adventures" went on Riddle, now scowling "were clear signs I had no time to waste, that prophecies are meant to be heeded. Did you have fun killing my precious basilisk, Potter? Destroying my diary?"
"The basilisk wasn't yours. It belonged to Hogwarts" countered Harry, before sniffing in disdain. "Or Slytherin's heir. The true one, as I told you already bastards should not…"
Harry's scream of pain interrupted his speech – Riddle casually waving his wand over him. For 5, 10 seconds Harry screamed and contorted on the ground, before Riddle stopped his Crucio.
"Not wise, Potter, not wise" said Riddle with an icy tone, amusement gone from his voice. "You should know better than to insult me that while you are helpless in my hands."
"But arrogance is clearly your greatest flaw" he continued, almost uncaring. "It is how I captured you, after all. Some of my followers thought even the fake trap we organized would be enough to capture you, that any boy would fall for the promise of some girly flesh. Not me, I had full faith in you."
"What… an honor…" stammered Harry, painfully, trying to get at least back on his knees.
"Not me" repeated Riddle, darkly. "I knew that you would see through it and delude yourself that you were oh-so-much smarter than your elders. Let me be clear, Potter… you are not. A worthy adversary, yes, I'll grant you that. The complete success of my ritual is testament of your value – only Dumbledore' blood could have granted comparable result. Thank you for your valiant resistance, I guess" he concluded, watching and admiring his perfectly reformed left hand.
At Harry's silence, Riddle seemed to be getting coldly furious. "But your usefulness ends tonight, Potter. You are dead. Your precious godfather will die. That mudblood whore we drew you in with, she will die, and so will the Abbots! Even your name will be cursed, eventually, by everyone who claimed to be your friend so long as it will spare them from my wrath."
"What happened to Sally, anyway? How low can you go, to threaten a little girl?" asked Harry, resentment overcoming his growing fear. Riddle shrugged, coldly.
"She lives, for now. I assume you too know how Polyjuice requires the copied being to remain alive, for the potion to work. Why, don't tell me you care about a nobody like her?"
"Your younger doppleganger asked pretty much the same, in the Chamber of Secrets" countered Harry. "I care for the people around me. Not that you can understand how that works, you psychop…"
Harry stopped with a wince on his face, as Riddle had raised his wand again. Harry's fear seemed to amuse him as he slowly lowered it again, a cruel smile back on his lips. "Maybe there is hope for you, Potter. Or there would be, if you were not destined to die tonight. Maybe I will gift your head at that mudblood, before I cut hers. Or I could turn you into an inferius and send you straight to Diagon Alley, my personal warning to all that oppose me."
"Such bestial brutality would suits you" said Harry, wary of Riddle's reaction but too disgusted to stop. "Is violence the only thing you understand? Imposing your will by force, until everyone is too intimidated to resist you?"
"From where I stand it seems the best approach, Harry" answered Riddle, voice full of sarcasm. "But please, go ahead. Explain to me how being weak and opposing me is the correct choice as you kneel on the floor, covered in filth."
"The true filth, in this room, is you. Give me my wand and mock me while I can fight back, if you dare" answered Harry, venom in his voice, slowly and painfully standing up.
"Are you in such a hurry to die, Potter?" asked Riddle, standing up himself, voice turning completely hostile. "No more banter, no more games for you then. Crabbe!" he called for another of the large man flanking him, who immediately bowed. "Gather my followers. They should all witness the end of this impudent brat."
The large man, Crabbe, went out while Harry and Riddle stared at each other in silence. Not long after several men in black robes, heads covered by their hoods, walked inside the room slowly dispersing themselves along the walls.
"Everyone is here, my lord" said Crabbe, bowing low once more.
"Good" answered Riddle, before turning his gaze towards another of the black-robed newcomers. "Malfoy. Give his wand back."
One of them, one noticeably shorted than the other, approached Harry and gave him a wand. He kept his head low, so Harry could not see his face, but his height identified him anyway. "Thanks, Draco" said Harry, bitterly, quickly suppressing the temptation to curse his retreating back. "Be proud of being part of my murder. The first of many, I am sure."
Draco, if it was really him, froze for a second but said nothing nor did he turn. Quickly he walked back towards the other men and one of them - 'Lucius?' thought Harry – placed a hand over his back, in apparent comfort. As Riddle started to speak Harry tried immediately to apparate away, smiling bitterly when he felt wards stopping him. 'Still worth trying' he thought with a sigh.
"Let it be clear to all of you, to everyone, that I can not be defeated" had started Riddle in the meantime, addressing the whole room, but his eyes stuck on Harry and his wand at the ready. "I, Lord Voldermort, am superior to everyone and everything including Death. My will is absolute, my trumph unavoidable. I will rule over our world and lead you all – my unworthy followers – to greatness. As for those who could vainly try to oppose us…" he finished, taking a step towards Harry "Potter here will provide a good example of which fate awaits them. For too long his mere existence made a mockery of my greatness. Tonight he falls, and we rise again."
"Bow, Potter. Show some dignity before dying" said Riddle, bowing himself. When Harry remained immobile he moved his wand, but a quick Protego stopped whatever Riddle tried to cast.
"You deserve no such courtesy. A disturbed murderer that these idiots here followed because they were young and stupid, once" started Harry, an angry grimace showing on Riddle's face. "How bitterly they must be regretting their choice, now that they shake once again in fear of your blood-stained hands" concluded Harry, taking his dueling stance.
"Were those your last words, Potter? I heard fiercer, but it wouldn't matter anyway. No one remember those, as no one will remember yours. Or you" countered Riddle, taking his own stance.
After a second of calm they moved at the same time, casting the same curse. "Crucio" they both murmured with hateful focus, their curses meeting in the air, crashing against each other in a shower of light. Harry didn't waste an instant after this first clash and started casting several smaller curses and jinxes, Voldemort lazily stopping them all.
"An unforgivable, Potter? What would Dumbledore says?" he asked, mockingly, his wand busy casting countercurses and Protego.
"I thought you said… no more banter and games" gasped Harry, his body still aching everywhere. With a snarl he cast Incendio, a veritable stream of flames going towards Voldemort, only for it to be stopped by his defense charm.
"I said for you. Because you remain my game tonight, to play with. A joke, to laugh at" countered coldly Voldemort, casting an overpowered Bombarda on the ground in front of Harry. The following explosion deafened him, and covered him in dust and debris. A quickly casted Protego stopped… nothing, as Harry saw once he could refocus on Voldemort. The man in front of him was laughing softly, clearly waiting for Harry to be ready once more.
"Satisfy my curiosity, Potter. Avada Kevadra" said Voldemort, a green light quickly rushing towards Harry, too quickly to be avoided. Abandoning his Protego, Harry conjured a slab of stone mid-air, barely in time to stop the curse that still ended up pulverizing it. Casting Oppugno on the chairs, Harry rushed to one side of the room, almost touching the Death Eaters on the way.
"Pathetic" commented Voldemort, casting a quick Finite that made the chairs fall back on the ground. "But still better than your father. He died instantly, as the mediocre wizard he..." continued Voldemort before releasing a gasp of pain. Bees, raising from the debris of the slab of stone, were attacking him.
"Sectusempra" hissed Harry, aiming straight for his chest. Uselessly, as Voldemort ignored the bees and the pain and conjured his own piece of stone in front of the curse, only to banish it at the same time, crushing Harry against the wall, his wand slipping from his hand.
"Your own trick, remember?" commented Voldemort, lazily, as he Vanished the bees and cured the stings. "Can you even hear me? Someone kick him awake."
"As I was saying, Potter" he continued, while one of the Death Eaters pulled Harry up by his hair and threw him back towards the center of the room, kicking his wand on his way. "Your father didn't last nearly this long. I am not trying to kill you quickly, true, but you can still take pride in being vastly better than him. Or should you be ashamed of your sire being such a weak, useless muggle lover?"
"My father fought for me, so did my mother" said Harry while picking up his wand and standing up again, cuts and blood everywhere, his clothes torn, eyeglasses gone. "What did yours ever do for you, anyway, beside dumping you?"
"They taught me that power is the only thing that matter" answered Voldemort, scowling, before conjuring hundreds of red ants on top of Harry that instantly swarmed him. He tried to push them out of his body but Voldermort kept piling them up and they bit, bit Harry again and again. At his whimper of pain Voldemort laughed, openly for once, and banished him once again, ants flying everywhere.
"You didn't even try to vanish them. If you are already at your limits, I might as well kill you and be done with it" he commented, coldly.
"Come closer and do it like a man, if you are one" said Harry, on his knees, but wand still in his hand.
"As if I couldn't smell a trap. But you are nothing to me, Potter, so I will, if only to have you be able to look at my face in your last seconds" taunted Voldemort, walking towards Harry. "Know that you are no threat, nor will you ever be in the future. Avada…" he started only for one of the Death Eater, the very same that had pulled Harry up before, to rush towards him slamming both on the ground, silently trying to punch him.
Harry, scowling horribly, didn't wait. "Avada Kevadra" he cast, right towards Voldemort. The curse came close, so close to him, before the Death Eater was banished exactly at the approaching green light, his smoking body falling on the ground after having absorbed the curse. Harry, panting heavily and with blood coming out of his nostrils, watched helplessly as Voldemort stood up, a Protego covering him.
"That was Avery" he commented with a quick glance to the corpse. "Not the gravest loss. Still… a silent, wandless Imperio? And you kept it active while being bitten by my ants?" he asked in a surprised tone.
"A difficult curse to cast even normally. Against someone dumb enough to follow you it's easier, of course" answered Harry with dark satisfaction, before a coughing fit made him spit blood on the ground. He tried to stood up, only to be banished once again towards the end of the room. An ominous crack could be heard, and Harry's left arm was suddenly bent innaturally.
"I am starting to have mixed feelings about your fate, Potter" said Voldemort, lowering his wand, with a Protego clearly still protecting him. "I despise Dumbledore because that senile buffoon is unworthy of the magic he wields. But you… you are worthy."
Eventually, he shook his head. "I won't offer you to join me. I have no doubts you would say yes, only to stab me in the back at the first chance. You must perish, but you deserve to do so by my hands."
"Is that even a compliment?" argued Harry, as thick smoke started to come out of his wand. "Keep it. If I must die, it will be while trying to take you with me."
"I would expect nothing less" commented Voldemort, amused. "Go ahead then. Give me your best shot. See what good it makes you."
The smoke now covering his end of the room Harry stood up, only half visible. He moved his wand with almost exaggerated movements, raising it high in the air, slowing circling it behind himself.
"Bombarda maxima!" he casted suddenly – against the heavy double doors leading out of the hall. Trying immediately to rush outside, disappearing inside the smoke. Voldemort hesitated a second, surprised, before quickly moving his own wand. Seconds later, from right outside the room screams of pain could be heard coming from Harry and when Voldemort vanished the smoke with a flick of his wand, everyone could see two ravenous wolves biting at Harry's head, one being wandlessly repulsed right before it struck at Harry's neck. One final flick of Riddle's wand, and the transfigured beasts disappeared.
"Trying to escape, now?" commented Voldemort, frowning. "How disappointing. How utterly disappointing. You should be ashamed of yourself."
"You are not a worthy wizard after all" continued Voldemort "so you don't deserve to die as one. Accio" he said, and Harry flew back into the room, him and his wand rolling on the floor. Picking the wand up, Voldemort swiftly broke it in two pieces before throwing them at Harry in disgust, shiny hair pushing out of the two ends. Harry, blood flowing from all the scratches and bite marks on his face, picked up one of the broken fragment, his blood-shot eyes glaring at Voldemort with hate.
"I think we are done here. Any last word?" he asked, only for Harry to murmur something. "I can't hear you, Potter" said Voldemort, taking one step towards him. Harry continued to murmur.
"Really, how pathetic can you get" he concluded, stopping close to him, his wand still carefully pointed at Harry. "Just… go away, Potter. Join your useless father in the afterlife. Ava…"
Right as he started casting Harry jumped towards him, throwing his piece of wand straight at Voldemort's eyes. He dodged, but his wand shifted away at the movement and when he tried to point it again Harry's fingertips managed to push it aside, even if barely. Slamming with his whole body against Voldemort, he pushed him one final time to the ground. With his only usable hand Harry scratched mercilessy at Voldemort's eyes, making him scream in horror, before he punched Harry hard in return and pointed his wand once again.
Wildly, Harry tried to fight for the wand before another punch made him reel. As another one approached, Harry crushed himself against Voldemort, biting at his neck in desperation. Blood started flowing from his mouth as Voldemort contorted and grunted in pain, a horrible sight. The Death Eaters around them, stunned for only a second, rushed in and dragged Harry away from Voldemort before striking him endlessly, with punches and kicks.
"Master!" screamed one of them, one who used a silvery hand to try and help Voldemort. Slowly, as Harry turned still under the barrages of hit, Voldemort rose up, blood still flowing from his neck, a bite mark clearly visible on its side, his left hand nursing his left eye with blood dripping from between the fingers. Amusement, disgust, anger, all had disappeared from his face. The only expression on display, in those few seconds he silently stared at Harry, was fear.
"Wanna pl… play more… you bastard?" murmured the pitiful figure of Harry, laying immobile on the ground. No wand, covered in blood and cuts everywhere, his left arm showing pieces of bones at the elbow and his clothes mere tatters. As he spoke his right arm twitched, uselessly. Only his eyes were still open, full of defiant resentment. At these words an unending rage seemed to overcome Voldemort. "Enough" he hissed, pointing his wand. "Avada Kevadra" he casted.
The green light of the curse shone brightly on its way, reflecting on the robes of the silent Death Eaters surrounding the two.