Across a vast clearing in the woods, a massive orgy raged on, well into its third hour. The forest echoed with the frenzied, pleasured screams of dozens of nymphs as they were fucked hard and fast by satyrs. It was a scene of debauchery that would make even the other Olympians envious, and it was glorious, a testament to how much Pan's following had grown. The guardian of nature lay on his back in the center of it all, his massive, turgid cock straining towards the heavens. It's thick, bulbous head was tinged purple from how full of his powerful blood it was, but he did not desire release. He had need of far more important things just then.
"Ahh, ahh, AHH!" the oracle gurgled, her mind fried by pleasure as she sat upon the face of the horned one.
His long, prehensile tongue filled her young cunt completely, slithering too and fro within her and pulsating in a way that stimulated every sensitive spot she had. She was locked in an unending cycle of orgasmic bliss, far beyond what a mortal could generally endure. Such divine ecstasy would have broken her mind long ago normally, but Apollo's gift had long since cracked it. She was young, beautiful, and so revered by her people that smuggling her out of Delphi had been annoying, but it was necessary. Pan needed answers, and by channeling his power into this girl, gifted by sight, he would have them.
The keening, orgasmic wails of the nymphs reached a crescendo, and he felt the raw sexual energy permeate the air and rush into his being. There was no one touching his cock, and yet he would have cum if he'd not redirected his orgasm elsewhere. He focused the energy upward and pressed his tongue into the oracle's womb, making her cum so hard she sobbed and squirted all over him. The satyrs disappeared at once, returning to him, and Pan groaned at the pleasure that set his nerves alight as their collective sexual experiences from the orgy flooded his mind.
"Aww," Althaea, one of the horniest women he ever gave the gift of nymphdom to, whined, "it was just getting good."
"Be silent," Hippolyta, his eldest nymph, hissed.
The oracle fell to the side as he retracted his tongue, curling into a ball and panting for breath. Her olive skin shone with sweat under the light of the full moon, only enhancing her youthful beauty.
"What did you see?" Pan asked, his vibrant, forest green eyes fixated on her shuddering form.
"Death," the oracle panted.
"Death?" Hippolyta asked. "Death of what?"
"All," the oracle replied, rolling onto her back and sighing in pleasure as the cool grass caressed her heated skin. "I see steel and glass enveloping the world. I see towers of them reaching above Mount Olympus and islands of filth crowding the seas. I see men and women breaking Gaea and then themselves, lost in an unending tide of madness. I see the death...of nature."
"That...surely she's wrong," Hippolyta sputtered.
"Yeah, nature can't die," Megare scoffed. "That would be the sky dying."
"It fits with the unease I've felt these many years," Pan countered, standing up and running his fingers through his long beard. "Tell me, girl, how do I stop it?"
"It...ahh!" the oracle cried, her eyes rolling back into her head and her back arching off the ground.
"I usually need our lord's cock to end up in that position," Althaea giggled.
"Please, a stiff breeze across your heated cunt can do that to you," Khlöe quipped.
"Shut up," Althaea hissed.
"Silence!" Hyppolyta growled.
"To save nature will take sacrifice," the oracle croaked, her voice growing simultaneously strained and airy.
"Sacrifice of what?" Pan asked.
"The one who would master death," the oracle continued. "He will rise in the age of steel and glass, and only his end will be able to stop it."
She passed out then, too overstimulated and exhausted to go on, but Pan didn't need anything else from her. Focusing his will, he spawned a pair of Satyrs who immediately genuflected before their lord.
"Return this girl to her temple," he commanded. "I need nothing more from her."
"My lord, what could it mean?" Hyppolyta asked, approaching him and placing a hand on his bulging bicep.
"I don't know," Pan replied honestly. "I turned to the oracle because I wanted to know if this sense of unease I'd been feeling for the past years had a genuine cause. The answers I truly seek will come from the land itself. I must go and commune with all the lands of this world. Only through that will I be able to know what's coming."
"When do we leave?" Althaea asked.
"You don't," Pan replied sadly, and a chorus of shocked and defiant complaints came his way. "Peace, my beloved nymphs, I will not leave you unattended."
"I will not object if this is your will, but I would like to know why we cannot come," Hyppolyta pleaded.
"Where I will be traveling to, only one of my power can reach," Pan replied.
"Will it be dangerous?" Sappho asked.
"Yes," Pan admitted. When that earned him more hysterical complaints, he slammed his cloven hoof into the ground hard enough to make it quake. "I am the heart of the land! I bound myself to nature long ago to enhance my power and so took on a great and terrible responsibility. If she is threatened, I must know from what, and I must counter it by any means necessary. I will leave you some satyrs to tend to you, and I won't be leaving just yet anyway. There are...preparations that must be made."
"What kind of preparations, my lord?" Hyppolyta asked.
"Insurance," Pan replied ominously.
"Mmm, mmm, mmm!" Lavender exclaimed as she deepthroated Harry's cock.
Harry held her against him while he stood in the center of the latest mural room, her feet flailing towards the ceiling and her long, blonde hair tickling his feet. They had all decided to remove their clothes at that point, needing nothing to keep them warm down in the strangely heated cavern and knowing that they would need to perform further sex acts to continue on. The latest carving they were acting out featured Pan holding a woman while he stood among trees, his face buried between her legs while she sucked his cock.
"This place 'as some great ideas," Fleur sighed, leaning against the wall.
"I'll say," Luna grinned. "Harry should use me like a sex toy more often. That was ever so much fun."
"So...good," Padma shuddered, still shaking on the ground from the rough anal pounding she'd gotten a few minutes earlier while she and Harry acted out a scene of a nymph riding Pan in reverse-cowgirl, his cock clearly buried to the hilt in her arsehole.
"I'll say," Parvati purred, soothing her sister's gaping, twitching hole with her tongue.
Hermione looked down at the scene and shivered in delight, amazed by how hot she found a scene that would have grossed her out not that long ago. She forced herself to look away, and her gaze landed on Daphne and Susan. The exhausted blonde was still periodically shaking in her lover's arms as she rested her head between her massive breasts, recovering from the scene she'd acted out of a nymph on her back, taking Pan's cock while another one sat on her face.
"Fuck," Harry groaned as he came, filling Lavender's stomach with his seed.
He carefully let the blonde down as he finished, and she stared, glassy-eyed at the ceiling, burping quietly and giggling as she panted hard. The final of the three scenes before them glowed green before disappearing entirely, showing them another new hallway.
"This one doesn't go further down," Hermione remarked.
"Probably because further down at this point would be the core of the bloody earth," Tonks grumbled.
"We haven't gone that far," Ginny laughed, "but I do kind of hope that we're reaching the end here."
"It better not be," Parvati huffed. "I haven't acted out a scene yet."
"I don't need an enchanted carving to fuck your brains out, Parvati," Harry chuckled, kissing her deeply.
Parvati moaned into his mouth, tasting Lavender's cunt on his tongue and lips.
"How long would you say we've been down here?" Hermione asked.
"Maybe about an hour and a half," Susan replied. "Why?"
"We haven't heard from Sirius yet," Hermione replied.
"Hmm?" Harry asked, breaking away from Parvati. "That's odd."
He pulled out his mirror and spoke Sirius' name. The mirror flashed white for a moment and then returned to normal, not seeming to even try to reach out to him.
"Shit," Tonks muttered. "Something down here must be interfering with it. We should probably head back a ways and try again."
"Tempus," Fleur cast, checking the time. "It's only been just over an 'our since we entered now. If we unlock the way past the next room and it seems like we still have quite a ways to go, then we can 'ead back and let him know that we'll be a while longer, but the change in direction might easily mean that we're near the end now."
Harry considered that for a moment before nodding. If they were at the end of the cavern, then they'd be done with this soon enough, and he'd be able to return to Sirius, and they'd all be able to go home. He hoped that his godfather wasn't too worried about him.
"Albus, thank goodness," Sirius muttered as he saw the aged wizard arrive in Tripoli.
"What happened?" Dumbledore asked, not bothering with pleasantries.
"We found the cave that my ancestor discovered the flute in centuries ago," Sirius replied.
"How?" Dumbledore asked.
"A griffin led up there," Sirius replied.
"A griffin?" Dumbledore asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"It actually gets stranger than that," Sirius replied. "That same griffin sought out Harry the last time we were in Greece. He recognized it well enough, and because of that and the species' penchant for guarding treasure, we thought it might be a sign."
"Griffins live for decades, not millennia," Dumbledore murmured, stroking his long, white beard. "For it to be bound to the cave, either it's lifespan was extended dramatically, or the magic of the cave has been reaching out to and binding animals to its will for ages. Either way, we're dealing with something extraordinarily powerful. Take me there."
He pulled a broom out of his mokeskin pouch and gestured for Sirius to lead on. The younger man did so, flying towards the forest he'd just come from and landing in front of the cave.
"So why have you come to believe that the flute contains Pan's soul?" Dumbledore asked, more willing to discuss such things in the forest than among other people. Somethings were too sensitive to rely on silencing charm for.
"My ancestor buggered up the translation," Sirius growled. "Sorry."
"How so?" Dumbledore asked.
"He was close, very close," Sirius replied, "but whether because his Greek wasn't perfect or because he wanted to believe something different, he messed up a specific part of it. What he interpreted as 'let he who is worthy restore the horned one's power,' I think is actually 'let he who is worthy restore the horned one to power.'"
"Where are Harry and the others?" Dumbledore asked.
"We reached a point that only they could go through, and they were already through when I tried to join them," Sirius replied. "I've tried calling him with our mirrors, but though it worked fine when he first went through the barrier, there's no response now."
"He's not answering?" Dumbledore asked, growing even more concerned.
"The call's not going through," Sirius replied. "Even if something had happened to him and he couldn't answer, I should still be getting more than I am. Something down there is interfering as if it were an actual muggle phone."
Dumbledore cast a silent lumos charm and ventured into the cave, followed closely by Sirius. Decades spent studying magic had attuned his senses far beyond those of normal wizards and witches to it, and what he felt as he walked deeper into the cave was incredible. Even Hogwarts wasn't this utterly suffused with magic, and it made him wonder exactly what he was dealing with. As they reached the flute chamber, he looked down at the hole in the floor as Sirius walked over it.
"Harry and the others could walk downstairs just as easily as you'd expect at first glance, but it's completely sealed to me," the younger man muttered as Dumbledore examined the writing on the cave wall.
"There's a powerful barrier over it," Dumbledore deduced. "One which I suspect is enchanted to allow only someone bound to the flute or someone bound to him through. Your translation is correct, by the way."
"Damn it!" Sirius exclaimed. "I never should have agreed to any of this. Why did I ever hand Harry that flute in the first place?"
"You were afraid," Dumbledore said softly. "I cannot fault you for that, and things might not be quite as dire as you fear."
"What do you mean?" Sirius asked.
"Harry already has more than one soul inside him," Dumbledore mused silently. "How will the Horcrux react if another attempts to invade? Ideally, they'll destroy each other and leave Harry unharmed, but things rarely work out ideally."
"Harry has been connected to it since he was a baby and is hale and healthy," he replied instead of saying any of that, "and while you might not be able to get through the barrier, I suspect that I will be. Now stand aside, and let me figure out what exactly we're dealing with here."
Sirius did as he was asked, and Dumbledore began working to figure out exactly what sort of barrier had been placed over the stairwell. As he worked, he contemplated the specific complexities of the magic at play with Harry and the flute and how they might affect the horcrux and the prophecy. His old foe hadn't surfaced since he possessed Quirinus years ago and he'd be lying if he said that the long silence hadn't started to unnerve him.
He knew well that Tom would return some day; the prophecy ensured it, and that he and Harry would fight. How that fight would end was anyone's guess, and he had no idea just how Sirius' meddling would end up affecting things. For now, he just needed to make sure that Harry was safe and that the panflute hadn't somehow made things worse.
"I really do hope that whatever it is, it manages to deal with the horcrux," Dumbledore thought to himself, though he had long since learned that hope alone was rarely enough.
"What the hell?" Tonks asked as they entered another room filled with carvings.
Like the previous ones, most of these were simple nature scenes of Pan and various nymphs frolicking about. Unlike the previous rooms, there was only one that deviated from this pattern instead of three, but that wasn't what differentiated it the most.
"Needless to say, we're not doing that," Hermione muttered.
"Why would they do that to a poor innocent satyr?" Luna asked, pouting.
In the image at the center of the room, Pan oversaw a ceremony where a satyr was sacrificed upon an altar. A nymph stood before him with a knife in one hand, raised above her head and ready to thrust down into her waiting victim, and a panflute in the other.
"Maybe he broke some law of theirs," Ginny guessed.
"Come to think of it, this is the only carving we've seen yet that included another satyr," Daphne commented.
"You're right," Fleur replied. "'Ow are we going to get through 'ere. Clearly we're not stabbing 'Arry or anyone else, and recreating the scenes in the unique imagines has been the only way to progress so far."
"Maybe play the flute again," Lavender suggested.
Harry barely heard them, being practically entranced by the image before him. Something about it seemed familiar, and far from being filled with a sense of horror at the sight of someone being murdered, he felt proud, as though it was a great honor. He reached forward and placed his hand on the carving of the sacrificed satyr and the moment it made contact, his vision went black.
"Is this truly necessary, my lord?" a nymph Harry instantly knew to be named Hyppolyta asked.
"It's alright, Hypp," the saytr lying on the stone altar assured her. "You know it's not permanent, nor am I truly him."
"But I am to harm a piece of you," Hyppolyta moaned mournfully. "Even doing it by your order feels like sacrilege."
Harry wasn't sure if they were speaking English or if they were speaking Greek, and he just heard it as such, but somehow he understood their every word.
"Hyppolyta, if I could do this myself, I would, but the moment you stab him, I will be momentarily paralyzed by pain and unable to channel his essence into my flute," Pan explained.
"That doesn't exactly make me feel better about it," Hyppolyta said dryly.
"Hey," Pan murmured soothingly, cupping the nymph's face in his hands and smiling warmly down at her. "You've been by my side for longer than anyone, and you know why I turned to you alone for this task."
"I know," Hyppolyta whispered, kissing his hand. "I love you, my lord."
"And I you," Pan smiled, kissing her softly. "If anything happens to me as I seek answers on the calamity to come, all of the satyrs will be lost with me, and any hope nature has will go with us."
"I must be safely secured in the flute," the satyr added. "As long as I am, he is safe."
"And if the worst comes, I'll be able to share what I learned and my will through it," Pan added. "I am relying on you, Hyppolyta."
"You can count on me, my lord," Hyppolyta swore, taking a deep breath.
Steeling herself, she picked up the crude knife she'd been given and her Lord's flute as well. She swallowed thickly, still reluctant to harm him in any way, but she knew that it had to be done, that it was his will, and thus it would be. Raising her hand above her head, she aimed the blade at the spot between the ribs nearest his heart and, with a scream, brought it down hard.
The satyr exhaled forcefully, and she heard Pan gasp in pain behind her, but she didn't dare think about that. Focusing on the lifeforce of the dying creature before her, she called on it, drawing it into her body. It was dark magic they were using there, the kind that her lord normally would have considered unnatural, but they were in desperate times, and exceptions could be made in such circumstances. She felt his soul, a fragment of her lord's, leave the body of the clone he had made of himself and travel up her right arm.
She felt it reach her heart, caressing her in a way that nearly made her weep, managing to express in a way she couldn't explain in words that he truly had been okay with it before continuing onward. It sailed down her left arm and into the flute, which glowed a bright green before returning to normal. With it done, she turned to look at Pan, who was rising up from his knees. He gave her a comforting smile.
"It's done," he wheezed. "Hold it close, my darling nymph, for if the worst comes, it will be our last hope."
Harry gasped, opening his eyes and looking around at the others, who stared in uniform shock.
"I'm okay, I swear," he said.
"Harry, look!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing at the carving.
He turned around, and his eyes widened at what he saw. The sacrifice scene was gone, replaced by a carving that resembled the others they had seen. Pan had a nymph on her hands and knees, taking her from behind, while she ate out another nymph who was lying on her back in front of them.
"You wouldn't know that was ever any different," Padma mused. "It changed when you touched it?"
"It did more than that," Harry replied. "It showed me the scene."
"You had a vision of the satyr being killed?" Susan asked.
"He went willingly," Harry explained, "and I think the satyrs were parts of Pan."
"Huh?" Lavender asked.
"I think the satyrs were clones of him, beings that he could summon at will," Harry clarified.
"Oh, that would make so much sense!" Luna exclaimed. "The satyrs disappeared when Pan died. If they were magic clones he summoned and controlled, then that would explain why his death led to theirs. I never really understood that part."
"Why would Pan make clones of himself, though?" Tonks asked.
"Because he could only fuck two nymphs at once," Luna replied like it was obvious. "I mean, I suppose two more could ride his fingers, but if you have a forest full of horny nymphs desperate for your giant satyr cock, having clones of yourself would make that a lot easier."
"I...can't argue with that," Tonks chuckled as Fleur laughed.
"I cannot imagine what fun the Veela enclaves would 'ave if 'Arry could clone 'imself," she purred.
Lavender gasped before asking, "Do you think you'll be able to do that if you master the Pan power or whatever?"
"I have no idea," Harry chuckled.
"Oh! Do me, do me, do me!" Lavender chanted, jumping up and down in a way that did fantastic things to her large breasts.
"I just assume that's all boys have ever heard when they looked at you," Daphne snarked.
"Oh, like you don't want two hunky, horse-hung Harrys splitting you in two," Lavender scoffed, making Daphne blush brightly. "Right? Do whatever you have to do me, Harry. We need you to get those powers."
"Calm your spectacular tits, Lavender," Ginny laughed. "We've all been shagged down here except for Hermione and Parvati. If anyone's up next, it's them."
"For the record, I also want you to clone yourself and destroy my vagina and anus at the same time," Luna piped up, making the others snort.
"I'll try my best," Harry chuckled, his cock rapidly hardening at the thought. Looking at Hermione and Parvati, he asked, "So?"
They both knew what he was asking and looked to each other to figure out who was going where.
"You were the one who brought us all into this to start with, so it's really only fair that you get his god cock here," Parvati smiled.
"You sure you don't just want me to eat your pussy?" Hermione asked teasingly.
"You have gotten so fucking good at it," Parvati sighed, pulling her dormmate in for a searing, hot kiss.
Harry groaned at the sight, unsure if he would ever truly get used to the fact that this is what his life had become. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to watching Hermione make out with other girls either.
"Ahh!" Parvati cried as Hermione brushed a couple fingers through her slick folds.
"You taste so good," the bushy-haired girl moaned as she sucked her fingers clean.
Parvati's eyes darkened further with lust, and she sat down on the ground, spreading her legs wide and cupping her perky breasts.
"I'm all yours," she grinned.
"Technically, we're all his," Hermione smirked, sinking to her knees and crawling towards the other girl.
Harry held back, slowly stroking his large, thick cock. He knew Hermione wouldn't last long once he started fucking her and wanted Parvati to get close first. She grasped her dusky thighs and began peppering them with kisses, making the other girl mewl in pleasure.
"I can smell you already," Hermione purred.
"Watching Harry fuck always turns me on," Parvati whimpered as Hermione's lips moved perilously close to her folds. "I know you're thighs looked slick too."
"I didn't say I wasn't aroused," Hermione chuckled. "The whole reason Harry's still standing there is because he knows I'll probably cum my brains out the second he buries his cock inside me. Just look at him, Parv; see how hard his throbbing prick looks right now."
"Merlin's balls, I still can't believe you became this little sex pot," Parvati moaned.
"Harry brings out the best in us," Hermione grinned before giving the other woman's cunt a long, slow lick from hole to clit.
"Fuck!" Parvati cried, burying her fingers in Hermione's hair and holding her tightly.
Hermione lapped at her folds eagerly, moaning at the taste of her tangy fluids. Her gorgeous dormmate was already so wet that she knew her fluids would soon drip down her, and she smiled at the thought. Part of her might have been embarrassed by just how much and how easily Harry aroused her if she didn't have so many friends who were just as affected by him. It wasn't that she was weird; it was just that Harry was incredibly hot.
"Oh fuck!" Parvati cried a couple minutes later as Hermione started swirling her tongue around her clit. "Oh, right there! Don't stop, don't stop!"
"She's getting close," Lavender grinned. "She always sounds so beautifully desperate when she can feel it coming."
"Suck on my clit," Parvati begged. "Please, Hermione."
"Music to my EARS!" Hermione screamed as Harry buried his entire cock inside her.
Her brain marinated in pleasure so intense it took her breath away. How could she have ever imagined keeping him to herself? Something this incredible absolutely had to be shared.
"Don't neglect poor Parvati, dear," Harry grinned, pushing Hermione's head back between the other girl's legs.
"Yes, please, I'm so close!" Parvati whimpered.
Hermione wrapped her lips around her clit and sucked gently, well aware of the fact that Harry wouldn't move until she made her cum. She pushed two fingers inside her quivering pussy and curled them upward, stroking her g-spot directly.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" Parvati cried, her back arching as the pressure inside her grew more and more intense. "So good, so good, so GAH!"
She screamed as she came, and Hermione joined in as Harry started fucking her hard. The sound of his hips smacking against her arse echoed across the stone room, drowned out by the brunette's squeals of pleasure. She came violently after no more than a dozen thrusts, clinging to Parvati's twitching form desperately as the intense pleasure threatened to drive her mad. She convulsed and writhed as it thundered through her entire body from head to toe, and when she felt him pull his pistoning shaft from her prone form, she cried out mournfully, wishing in that moment that her orgasm could go on forever.
"I think this is it," Fleur breathed as the section of the wall disappeared. "There is something incredibly powerful in there."
"Want some help with that?" Ginny asked, eyeing his still-hard cock and licking her lips.
"No," Harry replied, shaking his head. "Being hard almost seems appropriate if this is really it."
"Pan wasn't Priapus, but I get the idea," Luna murmured, trailing a finger up along his shaft and bringing the fluids she gathered to her tongue. "I wonder if it'll get bigger."
"I don't think even I could take more than that," Tonks chuckled.
"Let's go," Hermione panted as Parvati helped her to her feet. "We shouldn't keep Sirius waiting any longer than we need to."
"Right," Harry murmured, heading through the entryway.
The final hallway was shorter than the others and led to something they hadn't seen yet as they traversed the caves: a door. It was a crude wooden thing that would have likely turned to ash by now if it wasn't so thoroughly enchanted. Throwing it open revealed something that none of them expected, and it took their breath away.
"Oh, it's so pretty!" Luna exclaimed as she poked her head in behind him.
Inside the cave, deep under the earth, there was a round room filled with what looked like an indoor woodland. Trees lined the entire thing, looking ancient and gnarled, and yet they didn't expand beyond their border. The center of the room was filled with lush green grass that felt cool and comforting on their feet, and above it all was a huge green crystal that hung from the ceiling. It emitted a light that filled the room, and Harry could tell at once that it was what allowed these trees and the grass to grow so far from the sun.
"It's beautiful," Hermione smiled. "It should be impossible, especially after so many centuries of being untended."
"The magic in this place is stronger than I 'ave ever felt anywhere," Fleur sighed. "It is incredible."
They all filed in together, looking around at the majestic room in awe, save for Harry, whose gaze quickly fell on the stone altar at the very center of it. It looked just like the one from his vision, and if it was, it had clearly been moved down here after the sacrifice of the satyr, for what he witnessed did not happen in the cave. As he placed his hand on it, he felt that it was very familiar and didn't hesitate to sit down.
"Harry?" Hermione asked.
"I think this is it," Harry said, pulling out the panflute. "Whatever answers I'm going to get, they're here, in this spot."
"Do it then," Ginny smiled. "We're here for you, whatever happens."
The others all nodded, and Harry smiled, basking in their devotion. He brought the panflute to his lips, not really having a song in mind that time, and blew into it. He got off a single note before the world went black. He was in a vast void, floating in a sea of inky darkness. He should have been terrified, he imagined, but he wasn't, feeling comfortable and utterly at peace.
That peace was broken a moment later as the familiar sight of Pan manifested before him. He was tall and well-muscled, standing there entirely nude. His upper body was that of a normal man, but from the waist down he was covered in brown shaggy hair that reached his digitigrade legs and cloven hooves. From his head sprung a pair of large horns that curled upward and outward.
"Get down!" he bellowed, and Harry obeyed without question, narrowly missing a sickly green curse that whipped over his head towards the godly figure.
A vine sprang from the earth below them and caught the curse, bursting apart as it did so, and Harry heard a man snarl behind him.
"I don't know who you are or how you've come here, but you will not stop me," the man hissed, and though he'd seen his face only once that he could recall, Harry knew immediately that this was Voldemort.
"How the hell…" he went to ask.
"He invaded your mind when you were but a boy, latching onto your soul as a parasite," Pan explained.
"I don't know what you're talking about, creature," Voldemort snarled. "I came to slay this fool's son, and though I don't know what his mudblood wife did to bring me here, I will not be denied."
"You think I'm James?" Harry asked, facing the man who murdered his parents.
"Of course I…" Voldemort replied, only to stop short when he finally got a look at Harry's eyes. "How in…"
"You played around with magics you understood not," Pan chuckled. "I have bested your ilk in ages past, and I will do so again!"
Pan held his hand out, and the landscape shifted. Rather than an inky void they were all floating in, a verdant forest sprang up, and Harry found himself on solid land. Voldemort launched a series of dark-feeling curses at Pan, who swatted them away effortlessly before responding with a ball of green light that sent the dark lord flying through the trees.
"How are you speaking English?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
"I have been with you for nearly as long as he has," Pan replied, "and unlike him, I was well-formed enough to retain a degree of consciousness."
"You're the satyr," Harry realized. "The one who let himself be sacrificed."
"I am Pan," Pan replied. "I am all that I ever was and all that I was returned to me."
"I don't understand," Harry muttered, confused.
"You don't need to just yet," Pan replied. "Follow me. The wretch lives still, to what extent he does, and he must be brought low."
Pan sprinted forth, surefooted despite the increasingly thick foliage, and Harry struggled to keep up. He found his footing after a couple of minutes and came to a clearing where the god and the dark lord were busy fighting.
"What even are you?" Voldemort hissed. "Avada Kedavra!"
Pan ducked under the spell, which blew a nearby tree apart and stomped on the ground. The earth split beneath Voldemort's feet, forcing him to fly up into the air. From the trees sprang an eagle, transfigured from an empty bird's nest resting there, and it attacked Voldemort directly, clawing at his face with its sharp talons. The dark lord screamed in rage and flew off, firing off a chain of dangerous spells at the eagle.
"Fulmin," Harry cast, sending a bolt of lightning at Voldemort's retreating form.
The dark lord growled in frustration and swatted the lightning bolt at Pan, who leapt out of the way. He sliced the eagle in half with a wave of his wand and, pulling forth his own spilled blood, froze it before sending the sharp, icy projectiles at Harry, who conjured a shield to block them. Pan had not been idle during that short exchange, and to Voldemort's horror, he found a small army of transfigured animals coming his way. More large birds raced towards him, intending to shred him with their talons and tear his flesh with their sharp beaks, while bears roamed below, eagerly awaiting the fall of their prey.
Voldemort was more prepared for the attack this time and wasted little time dispatching his new foes. Spell after spell shot from the tip of his wand, slicing various beasts apart, blowing them to pieces, and burning them to cinders. Pan continued to send more his way, happy to exhaust his foe with his army of loyal creatures, and Harry stood still, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. He barely heard the crunch of a stick behind him in time to shield against the cutting curse that nearly took his head off, and as he turned around, his eyes went wide.
"Tom?" he asked.
There before him stood Tom Riddle, aged sixteen, looking just as he had in the Chamber years ago.
"Potter," Tom glared.
"How is this possible?" Harry asked. "I killed you."
"You destroyed my diary, and that would have killed me if not for what lurked within your scar," Tom explained. "I felt myself drawn in as you plunged the basilisk fang into it, and the next thing I knew, I was here."
"What lurks within my scar?" Harry asked.
"You haven't figured it out yet?" Tom asked, amused as the battle behind them raged on. "You are, like my diary, a vessel for a piece of my soul, and once I kill you and that ludicrous creature here, he and I will come to terms, and Lord Voldemort will live again. Ossus Fragmen!"
The bone breaker barreled towards Harry's head, and he barely managed to shield against it. Tom followed that up with a killing curse, which Harry dodged before sending a series of piercing hexes back at him. Tom swatted them away and grunted as a banishing curse got through and sent him careening into a tree.
"How in the...ahh!" Voldemort growled as a thorny vine wrapped itself around his ankle.
He tried to slice through it, but it tugged on him to the ground, slamming him into it. The bears charged, and he roared in anger. Pulling the moisture from the grass around him until it turned a dull yellow, he surrounded himself with a protective circle of water and froze it just as the bears leapt at him. The jagged spikes of ice impaled them all, showering the ground with blood, and he smirked at Pan as he sliced through the vine.
"I have had enough of this," he hissed. "Pestis Incendium."
Cursed fire spilled from his wand, quickly taking the form of a basilisk. He thrust his wand towards his foe, willing the Fiendfyre to destroy him.
Pan glared at the destructive force and reached towards a nearby river. Pulling upon the water there with all his might, he sent it barreling towards the fiery snake, engulfing it utterly. Steam poured forth in every direction, and Pan had to focus on shielding himself against it. It reached Tom and Harry, who were still dueling fiercely. Tom saw it coming and sent a killing curse towards Harry's head, forcing him to roll under it. The momentary distraction allowed him to summon forth the steam, rolling it into a tight, boiling hot ball of magic.
"Ahh!" he screamed, unleashing it at his enemy with a wave of his wand.
Harry's eyes widened as he saw the wall of steam coming towards him, and, knowing that he'd be burned if he did nothing, he called the very earth under him up. Dirt flew up and encased him utterly, protecting him from the heat of the steam, and Tom growled in annoyance as he let it fall.
"For just a moment, your outsides matched your tainted blood," he smirked.
"You know I know you're not a pureblood, mate," Harry scoffed. "Who was that even for?"
Tom just snarled and slashed his wand to the side, sending an overpowered cutting curse at him. Harry ducked, and the curse sliced cleanly through the tree behind him. With a smirk, Tom tugged on it, bringing it crashing down towards Harry. He leapt aside and started slicing off branches, taking a page from Pan's book and transfiguring them into wolves, who charged towards Tom. He burned them as they came, glaring at Harry, who took advantage of the opportunity to unleash more spells towards him.
Harry caught Pan's eye as the ancient wizard continued to fight with Voldemort, and he saw an image pop into his head that nearly made him laugh. Tom shielded against or dodged his spells, all while continuing to destroy his animated army and send the occasional attack his way. Harry couldn't help but be begrudgingly impressed by how powerful and skilled he already was at that age, being only a year older than himself, though that made the fact that he was holding his own against him even more important. He circled around, continuing to hold Tom back, until Tom was lined up perfectly with his older self.
"Die!" Tom hissed as he was clawed by one of the wolves, which he hit with a blasting curse, reducing it to smoking bits.
Tom sent another killing curse his way, and Harry quickly summoned the fallen trunk of the tree he'd slashed apart to block the spell. It blasted away the closest tip of it, but the damage was limited, and with a large hunk of wood left between them, Harry saw an opportunity.
"Depulso!" he cried, and a yellow beam of light sprang from his wand, hitting the trunk and sending it flying towards Tom.
Tom grinned at this and said, "Confringo."
His spell blasted the trunk apart, and as he readied himself to send another barrage of spells Harry's way, he failed to notice the second beam of yellow light coming towards him. His eyes widened as he tried to shield against it, moving just a second too slow.
Voldemort was growing increasingly irritated with whatever this satyr-looking creature was. It was powerful, its magic felt very old, and the fact that it didn't need a wand was positively alarming. It seemed to be slowing down, though, and had spent the past minute on the defensive.
"Where has all that bravado gone?" he asked, amused. "I thought you'd dealt with my kind before. Avada Kedavra."
Pan conjured a rock to catch the spell and swatted away the next few less dangerous ones with ease. He was waiting for something specific and had to remain rooted where he was if he was going to get it. His foe had remained so focused on him that he hadn't even noticed the other duel happening in the forest behind him, and that was something he could take advantage of.
He blocked another curse, one which he sensed would have melted his organs had it struck, just as he saw Harry do as he'd wanted. Tom was sent flying towards Voldemort, who noticed at the last second and moved to fly. Pan conjured vines to wrap around both of his ankles and held the dark wizard in place as his younger self came crashing into him.
The crash stunned both of them for a moment, and that was all Pan needed to disarm and bind the pair. Heavy vines wrapped around them and forced them to their knees. Two sets of eyes, one brown, the other scarlet, glared balefully at him, and he silenced them both to ensure that they'd not bother him further.
"We did it," Harry panted as he joined them. "We beat them."
"We did indeed, Harry Potter," Pan smiled.
"How is Voldemort...in me?" Harry asked, having already accepted that he was somehow within his own mind.
"As far as I can tell, this fool tore his own soul apart, seeking immortality," Pan replied. "When he was destroyed by his own reflected spell when you were a baby, part of it came loose and latched onto you."
"My scar," Harry murmured, feeling his forehead. "How do I get rid of him? Do I just kill him here?"
Voldemort's glare turned to fear, and he struggled uselessly against his bindings.
"That might work, but I have a better idea," Pan replied. "Steel yourself, for we will have more company in a moment. The next few will likely be disoriented to begin with. Stun them quickly, or we'll end up with quite the fight on our hands."
"The next few what?" Harry asked.
"Him," Pan grinned, approaching a struggling Voldemort. He placed his hand on the desperately struggling monster's forehead and commanded, "Come forth, foul wretches, be drawn back together once more."
In the Room of Requirement, a pair of house elves finished the task of storing the latest bits of junk they'd found in the storage room.
"Wizards and witches sure do toss away a lot of stuff," Blim remarked.
"They have so much more," Krafty shrugged.
A piercing scream sounded throughout the room, startling the pair of them. They looked around the room frantically, trying to find the source, and had little luck until black smoke started to billow out from the center of the pile of junk.
"Fire!" Krafty exclaimed, forcing objects in every direction in the hope of avoiding a massive blaze.
"Not fire, look!" Blim, pointing to a silver diadem that had been exposed.
The smoke was coming from it, and so were the screams. As the two elves watched in shock and horror, the smoke took the shape of a man and flew out of the room, headed south. The moment it left, the screaming stopped, and Blim approached the diadem cautiously.
"Should we…" he asked.
"Krafty will show it to Headmaster when he comes back," Krafty replied.
Before Harry's eyes, another version of Voldemort appeared in the forest clearing. This one looked more human than the one before, his skin less deathly pale, and his nose still intact. He was still fully bald, lacking eyebrows as well, and as he looked around in confusion, his wide eyes were crimson.
"What the…" was all he managed to say before Harry's stunner slammed into him.
He was swiftly bound with the others.
"Pan, are…" Harry went to ask.
"Stay focused," Pan muttered, still working on drawing the others in.
"Why can't you little monsters come up with a less terrible form of transportation?!" Umbridge shrieked as she went barreling down along the train tracks within Gringotts.
Ever since she first went with her father to examine the family vault as a girl, she'd despised the train cars they insisted on taking everyone to their vault with.
"You're free to try walking if you'd like, Madam Umbridge," the goblin replied snidely. "Do watch out for the train cars, though."
"Insolent little…" Umbridge went to growl when a piercing shriek shocked her to her core and nearly caused her to jump out of the moving car.
To her horror, a smoky monster with the face of the dark lord came flying out in front of her, and her resulting shriek was even louder than his.
"What was that?" she demanded.
"I have no idea," the goblin shrugged, determined not to show the slightest hint of fear to the infuriating human woman.
"No idea?" Umbridge demanded. "It came from one of your vaults!"
"Under the provisions of the Treaty of Hogsmeade, signed in 1612, we can't know," the goblin grinned.
Umbridge huffed and looked away, amusing the goblin greatly.
In Kreacher's room in Grimmauld Place, a horrid shriek alerted the house elf, and he teleported to the room immediately.
"What in the world?" he house elf asked, staring with wide eyes as his greatest failure emitted black smoke and a deafening sound.
He silenced it quickly and rubbed his aching ears and prepared to fight the billowing smoke creature that was rapidly forming when it just flew through the walls and disappeared. Blinking in confusion, he undid the silencing spell and reached out with his magic to get a feel for the locket that he had been trying and failing to destroy for years. It felt different, weaker, and for the first time in years, Kreacher felt a hint of hope about his beloved master's last request. He lifted it telekinetically and smashed it against the nearest wall, squeaking in shock and delight as it broke apart.
"HAHAHAHA!" he cackled as he hit it with every destructive spell he could think of, tearing it to pieces and reducing those pieces to dust one by one.
He had no idea what had just happened, and he didn't care in the slightest. All he knew was that he could finally fulfill Master Regulus' final order, and that made him so happy it brought tears to his eyes.
Harry stunned the next two copies of Voldemort before they could even get a word out. The first one looked significantly healthier than the others, his eyes being brown and slightly less crazed. The one that arrived after that actually had hair and looked like an adult version of the Tom Riddle he'd met in the chamber back in his second year at Hogwarts and just finished fighting again. Finally, one last one appeared, this one looking almost identical to the one from the diary, and Pan knocked that one out himself.
"That's the last of them," he murmured as that one was moved and bound by vines on the ground as well.
Harry looked at the circle of Voldemorts that they'd formed and furrowed his brow, saying, "You said that he tore his soul apart. I assume that's why there are six of him here. How did he do it?"
"When I wanted to ensure that I would be safe no matter what I came across in my long journey, I sacrificed a piece of myself to bind him to my flute," Pan explained. "Because I did it this way, when I died, the rest of my soul was drawn into the flute as well."
"How did you die?" Harry asked.
"There are far greater monsters in this world than your Voldemort," Pan replied. "I ran afoul of a number of them. To answer your earlier question, the ritual he would have used was similar to my own but far darker. I learned to divide my soul among many bodies when I mastered the art of cloning. To have done this level of damage to himself, he must have used the murders of innocents."
"Myrtle Warren," Harry breathed, looking at the youngest Voldemort. "She was the first, wasn't she?"
Tom just glared at him, though the hatred in his dark eyes was heavily outweighed by fear.
"I imagine so," Pan replied for him. "Come, there is one last thing to do. Using the piece of his soul in your scar, I was able to pull the ones he'd made earlier in here too. Summoning the rest of him will be more difficult and wouldn't be possible at all if the fool hadn't already shaved away most of his soul."
"Um, is having his entire soul in here...dangerous?" Harry asked.
"Nothing will happen to you as long as I am here, and after all you have done, we are more firmly bound than you ever were to him," Pan replied. "As a piece of him has lived inside you for so long, you will be uniquely capable of performing this rite. I am going to link the six pieces together, and when I tell you to, I want you to hold onto the one from your scar and get a feel for his magic."
"How do I do that?" Harry asked.
"Close your eyes and quiet your mind," Pan replied. "We are in your mind, and you are in charge here. His presence is foreign and unwelcome, and you will sense him if you manage to quiet everything else."
"Alright," Harry muttered, still unsure of what exactly he was going to be doing.
The other Voldemorts had woken by that point and were all thrashing about, trying to escape their bindings. None of them could move a muscle, however, and as Pan began working his magic, they all went deathly still. Harry watched as black smoke started to pour from their ears, reaching out slowly towards the others. The multiple strands all snaked their way outward, moving as though blind and searching for something vitally important. They all touched in unison and thickened dramatically once they did so.
"Now, Harry," Pan commanded. "Do it now."
Still not sure what it was exactly, Harry reached out and grasped the head of the Voldemort who had been inside his scar, carefully avoiding the smoke, and closed his eyes. The forest around him was full of sounds that one would expect from it; the rustling of leaves as wind blew through them, the rushing water of the small river behind him, and the chirping of birds all echoed through the land.
Falling back on the basic occlumency lessons he'd had, Harry focused on his breathing, slowing and deepening it as he kept his hands firmly on Voldemort. The sound of the river went away first, followed by the birds and other wildlife, and finally the wind. He couldn't even feel the wind anymore. He smiled, reaching out with his senses to try and get a feel for Voldemort, but when his eyes happened to flutter open, he was quickly distracted by something strange.
"The leaves," he murmured, seeing multiple leaves on the tree before him looking like they were stuck, as though they were held in place despite the lack of wind.
"As I said, Harry, this is your mind," Pan smiled. "All that is in here is yours to command, including him. The majority of his soul is here now, and it can call the rest in if made to. Give the order; bring him here."
"Lure the remaining piece of Voldemort here," Harry commanded. "Let the entire soul of Tom Riddle be bound in place within this space."
He didn't notice Pan smirk.