Fleur took in the sight before her in shock. She had wondered why Harry seemed so insistent on keeping the identities of his other lovers a secret and had wondered how exactly he was able to see them at all while in Hogwarts, but never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined that they were devils. Closing the door behind her, she strode inside, myriad emotions swirling inside her. The devil impaled on Harry's cock flew off of him, giving her a clear view of his rock-hard, glistening shaft, and for a moment, every thought in her mind disappeared in favor of an image of her sinking to her knees and burying that mammoth organ in her throat.
"Fleur, I…" Harry went to say.
"Devils?" Fleur breathed, her fists clenching. "You're fucking devils?"
"Very well," the raven-haired beauty sighed, "but then, I don't need to tell you that, huh?"
Fleur glared at her and noticed more than just her wings for the first time since she arrived. She was undeniably beautiful, with a gorgeous face and a curvaceous body made for sin. It was rare that the Veela, any Veela really, had reason to envy the looks of another woman, but as Fleur stared at her massive, gravity-defying tits, she felt the unfamiliar sensation well inside her.
"Akeno, could you not?" Harry sighed.
"Fleur, I had my reservations at first too, but Akeno and Rias are both really sweet, and they care about Harry a lot," Hermione said.
"If anyone learned that you were associating with devils, you can't imagine what would come of it," Fleur hissed. "Do you 'ave any idea 'ow 'ard it was for Veela to gain any measure of acceptance from ze wizarding community because of our purported connection to zem? My ancestors los...are zey why you're so oddly powerful?"
"Fleur, you might want to sit down," Luna offered, sending a chair her way slowly with a wave of her wand.
Fleur just glared at the chair before looking back at Harry, who sighed and said, "Fleur, you know how I was entered into the tournament. I wanted nothing to do with it, got forced into it, and when I learned that the first task was going to pit me against a dragon, I was sure that I was going to die in it. I summoned Rias the first time because I wanted a way to survive to it; that was all, and I ended up finding so much more."
"What price did you pay?" Fleur asked. "Is your soul even your own?"
"We don't do that anymore," Akeno murmured.
"Rias was engaged to a man she wanted nothing to do with and asked me to take her virginity to get her out of it," Harry replied, and Fleur just blinked at him.
She looked around the room at the others, seeking some clue that that was a joke, and when she received nothing but looks of confirmation, her jaw dropped.
"Seriously?" she asked.
"Yeah, I...agh!" Harry cried as a sudden burning pain erupted in his scar.
"Harry?" Hermione asked, instantly concerned.
"I think Voldemort wants...ugh...to talk," Harry groaned.
"Voldemort?" Fleur asked, confused, but he didn't hear her.
With his occlumency training, his nemesis couldn't just send him messages through their soul link, as he figured that he might have been able to otherwise, but he could knock on the proverbial door between them. Harry sank back into his mindscape and relaxed his defenses just enough to see what the old lunatic wanted.
Looking around the room, he saw Xenophilius Lovegood as well as Daniel and Charlotte Granger and felt his blood run cold. They were staring up at him in horror, each one looking rather rough as they were bound on the ground.
"A great deal of work went into finding you two," Voldemort said softly, looking at the Grangers. "I hope you're enjoying your accommodations."
Daniel struggled against his bindings, making Voldemort and Crouch both laugh.
"You'll be here for some time," the dark lord continued, "at least until Harry Potter presents himself alone. I sincerely hope for your sake that he does show up alone, because if my devoted servants see any hint of the aurors, well, it won't end well for you."
"Oh God," Harry muttered in horror as he opened his eyes.
"What's wrong?" Akeno asked, wincing.
"Voldemort...he…" Harry struggled to get out the words, looking over at Hermione and Luna and knowing that he was about to devastate them both.
"I zought zis Voldemort was dead," Fleur said, confused.
"He was just defeated," Hermione replied, "and now he's back and after Harry. That's another reason why he reached out to the devils."
"What's happened?" Luna asked, her silver eyes brimming with concern at how Harry was acting.
"He...he has your parents," Harry finally said, looking down as Hermione and Luna both paled and cried out in horror.
"What?" Hermione croaked, her eyes filling with tears. "How?"
"I don't know," Harry replied, shaking his head. "He wants me to present myself to him. He showed me the room he was in and a piece of parchment with an address. I think it's an abandoned country house in Yorkshire."
"We must call ze aurors," Fleur mumbled, the perilous situation driving away all of her anger over Harry's devil connections for the moment. "Surely zey…"
"He said he'd kill them if he saw any aurors," Harry shook his head.
"Harry, please," Luna begged, shaking with fear.
Harry looked down into her watery silver eyes and swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat.
"I'm going after them," he promised. "If that son of a bitch wants a fight, he'll get one."
"'Arry, you are incredibly powerful for a fourth year, but you're no match for someone like 'im," Fleur reasoned.
"I won't be going alone," Harry replied, pulling another summoning paper from his mokeskin pouch. "Rias Gremory."
A crimson ritual circle appeared on the floor, and as Fleur watched with wide eyes, a figure materialized in it almost immediately. Her hair matched the ritual circle, and she was somehow even more beautiful than Akeno. She was also very, very naked, wearing nothing but a shower cap and a film of bubbles.
"Harry, I said I was busy tonight," Rias complained, glaring at him. "I just managed to get into the bubbleba...what's wrong?"
"I need your help," Harry replied. "Fleur, I need to put a pin in this conversation for now."
"Of course," Fleur replied. "I'll stay with 'Ermione and Luna. Ze 'ole reason I came by tonight is zat I can't stay in my quarters."
"Thank you," Harry nodded.
With a wave of her hand, Rias cleaned both her body and his and clothed them as well.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Voldemort has my daddy," Luna replied, looking terrified.
"My parents as well," Hermione added, not looking much better.
Fleur sat down and wrapped her arms around them both, holding their trembling forms comfortingly.
"Fuck," Rias muttered under her breath. "You know where they are?"
"I have a rough idea and someone I can question," Harry replied. "Take me to York, and we'll figure it out from there."
"We'll do everything we can to get them back safely," Rias assured Hermione and Luna.
"Yeah, we will," Akeno added.
Neither one of them wanted to make a promise they couldn't keep, and they were thankful that no one called them out on it.
"Where are they?" Harry growled at an amused-looking Voldemort inside his mindscape, not at all trusting that the other him had been honest.
"I can't say for sure," he grinned.
"Guess then," Harry commanded.
"They are likely in the place I showed you, and I don't know anything specific about it if that's what you're wondering," Voldemort replied. "Your initial assumption is correct, by the way. The English countryside has its share of empty, isolated manor homes that I could make use of for something like this. Such places are easy to lay traps in, and they're so far removed from anything of importance that they greatly reduce the number of other variables that can complicate such plans."
Harry ground his teeth together. It hadn't been likely that Voldemort would know anything about the address.
"Poor Potter, finally realizing just what you're up against," Voldemort crowed. "They're going to die, you know? And they'll be just the first. Your devil allies might even the scales between us, but you'll still get everyone you care for killed opposing me, just like your parents."
"Shut the fuck up!" Harry roared, and Voldemort just smirked at him.
He mimed the image of a key turning in his lips and sat back. A piece of parchment and quill appeared before him, and he scrawled something down before showing him.
There's something you should know.
"Speak," Harry hissed.
"I wasn't lying just now," Voldemort continued. "Your parents did die because of you."
"What?" Harry asked.
"You were my target that Halloween night, not them," Voldemort grinned. "There is a prophecy in play between us, one which states that you are a threat to me. I sought to end that threat early and met my end at whatever it is that your mother did. She died because of you, as did your father, as will your friends' parents, and in time, everyone you love will die as well."
Harry gasped as he opened his eyes, forcing himself out of his mindscape and away from the monster trapped there. The soul shard was enslaved to his will and had to obey his orders, but clearly, he wasn't incapable of acting against him. Unnerving him before a fight like this was one of few ways that the horcrux could strike against him, and if Harry hadn't developed the occlumency skills that he had, it might have worked.
Unfortunately for Voldemort, Harry had taken his advice and dedicated a lot of time over the last little while to mastering the art, and he made great use of it just then. Forcing his emotions away, he considered the situation he was in. He wasn't yet a match for Voldemort, but together with Rias and Akeno, he'd hopefully be able to overwhelm him and put him down. From there it would be a matter of taking down whoever else he brought with him, and he felt far better about taking on the various death eaters he might face.
"I found it," Rias announced as she landed on the rooftop of the apartment building they'd chosen to make use of to stay out of sight. "It's about five miles north of here and right where the map said it would be. There's something you should know, though."
"What?" Harry asked.
"I didn't sense anyone there powerful enough to be noteworthy," Rias replied.
"He's not there?" Akeno asked.
"I don't think so," Rias replied.
"Interesting," Harry muttered, scratching his chin. "If Voldemort's not there, I want you to focus on finding Xenophiliius and the Grangers."
"Are you sure?" Rias asked.
"I am," Harry replied. "I'm a match for most of his followers at this point, and Akeno will be more than enough backup as is. Bringing you as well will be overkill, and I want those three rescued as quickly as possible."
"Alright," Rias nodded. She gave Akeno a pointed look, and the dark-haired woman nodded.
With nothing left to say, the three of them flew off, with Rias leading the way towards the country house Voldemort had decided to use for his trap. As they landed in front of it, all three of them made themselves invisible.
"Hominum Revelio," Harry cast quietly, and he looked at the relatively small estate. "There are five of them, one of whom is very big. I think it might be Greyback."
"Who?" Akeno asked.
"A werewolf," Harry replied, "and a particularly terrible one at that."
"Do you still want me to focus on looking for Hermione's and Luna's parents?" Rias asked.
"Yes," Harry replied. "I'm not sensing them yet, but they're probably beyond the range of the spell. Search for them and let me know if you find anything. In the meantime, Akeno, remain invisible and don't enter the fray unless it looks like I need help or ask for you."
"You have something in mind?" Akeno asked.
"Yes," Harry replied.
"Good luck," Rias whispered, kissing him softly.
She flew off and let herself in quietly through one of the upper-floor windows while Harry made his way towards the front door. To his surprise, there weren't any magical traps set, and he undid his disillusionment charm as he opened the door.
"Harry Potter," a grinning man with dark, crazy-looking eyes crowed. "We've been expecting you."
"Junior," Harry replied, smiling as he saw the madman's left eye twitch. "You're looking better than you did the last time we met."
He recognized the man from Voldemort's memory, and he had seen enough images of his followers to recognize the rest as well, but even if he hadn't, he'd have instantly known the man standing a step behind the others. Peter Pettigrew looked mildly less wretched than he had the last time he saw him, and his beady eyes widened as he got a good look at him. Alongside those two were Greyback, as he'd thought, as well as Walden Macnair and Thorfinn Rowle.
Macnair was going to be a problem, given that he actively worked for the ministry, but he'd figure out how best to deal with that later.
"I really don't miss the peg leg," Crouch chuckled.
"Potter, you're bigger than Crouch described," Greyback rumbled, grinning malevolently at him. "Think you might resist us? I could use a good fight."
"He won't," Crouch said. "We have your girlfriends' parents, Potter. Surrender yourself, and they'll be released."
"An interesting offer," Harry murmured. "Here's my counter: release them now, and I won't slaughter you all like dogs. No offense."
That last comment was directed at Greyback, who barked a laugh in response. The others swiftly joined in, save for Pettigrew, who took a step back, looking frightened.
"Harry?" he asked and Harry was pleased to see that at least one of them recognized that they were in danger.
"If you want a fight, you'll get one," Crouch grinned, "but that didn't work out so well for you last time."
"You have me there," Harry admitted, slipping his wand into his hand behind his back and silently transfiguring a light switch behind Rowle into a pointed blade, "but then, I've learned a few things since. Depulso!"
The yellow light shot from his wand like a rocket and slammed into the completely unsuspecting Rowle, sending the muscular blond man hurtling backward. He slammed into the wall, being impaled straight through the heart, and barely had time to cry out before he was dealt the fatal blow. None of them were expecting such sudden violence from him, and Harry had time to stun Pettigrew and point his wand at the floor before any of them thought to respond.
"Tenebris nebula," he cast, jumping out of the way of bone-breaker Crouch sent his way.
The entire first floor of the manor was filled with thick, dark fog, completely obscuring their vision, and he took advantage of the confusion to fly up to the ceiling. Transfiguring a chair he caught sight of before everything went dark into a vaguely humanoid shape, he animated it, placed a compulsion charm on it to make people more likely to chase it, and sent it running out of the room.
"After him!" Crouch shouted, tearing off after the running chair, followed quickly by Macnair.
He flew up the stairs and grinned when he noticed Greyback following him quickly.
"You might have fooled the others with whatever you sent lured them out with, but my senses are far keener," the werewolf chuckled.
"And yet you didn't alert the others," Harry pointed out as he landed.
"They'd have gotten in the way," Greyback growled as he stepped out of the black fog and into the second-floor hallway.
He was a large man, easily six and a half feet tall, and very well muscled. Practically the opposite of Lupin, he was a creature who, rather than fighting against the monster inside him, had embraced it long ago and it showed. He looked half-transformed already, his face covered in hair save for his nose and the space around his eyes. His eyes were amber and shone with palpable malice. This was a creature who reveled in savagery and who saw it as his purpose in life. He was exactly the kind of beast that Voldemort was happy to make use of.
"I wondered if there might be more to you than Crouch claimed when you showed up," Greyback continued. "You had the eyes of a killer, and you proved that well enough down there."
"Where are they keeping the prisoners?" Harry asked. "You want to fight; I'll fight you, but…"
Greyback laughed loudly and said, "You're not negotiating here, Potter. I'm going to enjoy this, and then I'm going to give what's left of you to the dark lord."
"Worth a shot," Harry murmured. Glancing to the side for a second, he saw that the moon was half-full and smiled at that. Greyback's reputation was such that he was sure this would be quite the fight either way, but given the choice, he'd much rather fight him untransformed.
No sooner had that thought occurred to him than the man in front of him jerked forward and grunted. Harry's eyes widened as he saw Greyback's fur thicken and turn grey and he didn't hesitate to raise his wand.
"Ossus fragmen," he hissed, sending the bone-breaker right towards the werewolf's head.
Greyback tossed his well-worn black robe in front of the spell, catching it, and shot across the room with blinding speed, his claws ready to tear Harry apart. He flew to the side and watched as Greyback crashed through the door behind him, landing in an empty bedroom. He transfigured the bedframe into a metal lion and had it attack Greyback. The werewolf met the challenge with a deranged snarl, grappling it aside.
"Fulmin," Harry cast, shooting a bolt of lightning at Greyback's back.
The wolf sensed it coming and flipped over, tossing the transfigured lion into the path of the bolt. Harry growled as it went down and cast expulso at it, blowing up his own creation and sending shards of metal everywhere. He flew out of the way, but Greyback wasn't so lucky, and Harry grinned as he heard the wolf roar in pain. That grin disappeared a moment later as he rushed out of the room, bleeding from wounds that quickly sealed and glaring murderously at him.
"Not bad," Greyback snarled.
"You can speak like that?" Harry asked. The wolf wasn't perfectly legible, but compared to Lupin, who barely had any command of his own faculties without wolfsbane, it was incredible.
"I've fully embraced what I am, boy," Greyback grinned, raising onto his hind legs. "I can transform when I want and my mind is my own no matter my form. The wolf and I are one mind."
"There's no man left, you mean," Harry muttered.
"What is a man but prey?" Greyback snarled.
He launched himself at Harry again and the wizard grunted, diving right out of the way of his claws. He hit Greyback with a banishing charm, sending him flying down the hallway and took a moment to think. Akeno was waiting nearby, he knew, ready to step in if he asked or if she felt she needed to, but he wanted to win this one on his own if he could. The other two would eventually figure out that they weren't chasing him, though, and he needed to deal with him before that if he was going to at all.
Greyback charged him again, and he decided to change tactics. Conjuring an oil slick, he watched the wolf slip on it and was momentarily tempted to light him on fire, but he didn't want to have to have to deal with it while he was still unsure as to where his girlfriends' parents were being kept and took advantage of the opportunity to hit him a bone-breaker instead. Greyback growled in pain as it struck his left leg but didn't even slow down, and Harry was forced to dodge again, narrowing avoiding the beast's razor-sharp claws.
"How the fuck can you fly?" he asked in frustration.
"How the fuck do your bones knit back together?" Harry countered, strafing aside as Greyback launched himself at him.
The wolf crashed through the wall, and Harry immediately sent a jet of water after him. The smell of wet dog permeated the air, and he knew that he'd struck true.
As Greyback ripped the door off, he pointed his wand and cast, "Glacius."
Greyback cried out as the wave of wet, icy wind froze the water covering him at once, and Harry kept it up, trying to freeze him in place so he could get a solid hit on him. Once it looked like he was too cold to move, Harry sent another lightning bolt at him, only for his eyes to widen in shock as Greyback tore out of his icy bindings and rolled out of the way. When he launched himself at him again, Harry tore a section of the wall out and moved it into place. Greyback smashed through it headfirst and looked momentarily woozy.
"Avada Kedavra," Harry hissed, done playing around.
Greyback's eyes widened in fear for the first time since they began, and he barely dodged out of the way.
"The balls on you," he grunted, diving into the bedroom Harry had torn a wall away from as Harry followed up with an overpowered severing curse that sliced clean through the rubble behind him. "You're already tiring, boy. You have the spells and you have the will to kill, but you lack the stamina. You're going to slip up, and I'm going to taste your flesh."
"Tenebris nebula," Harry hissed, and the entire floor was engulfed by pitch black fog.
"That didn't work before," Greyback snarled, leaping at him.
Harry pulled the rubble of the destroyed wall over to crash into the werewolf and flew off as he was momentarily knocked down. Greyback was annoying fast, perilously strong, and could heal from minor damage with ease. He should have struck him with a killing curse when he slipped in the oil, but he still wasn't thinking in terms of swiftly putting people down, and that had cost him the opportunity. He'd get an earful later, he was sure, but seeing as Akeno hadn't stepped in yet, she clearly still thought that he could deal with his foe.
Rushing into the first bedroom, he came across an endtable and got an idea. Transfiguring it into a human shape as he had with the chair downstairs, he wrapped his cloak around it and sent it running out towards the staircase. The sound of someone crashing into another person echoed through the hallway a moment later, and he heard Greyback roar in triumph.
"Like I said, boy, a single slip up was all it was going to take," the werewolf laughed before sinking his teeth into the fake body.
Harry considered killing him outright, but as he sensed the wolf hold still for a moment, another thought occurred to him that made him nearly laugh. Pointing his wand at the wolf's right leg, he silently cast a spell he'd seen used only once and yet the effects of which he knew all too well. It struck true, and as he heard Greyback grunt in shock, he dispelled his fog and struck his other leg with the same spell.
"What did you do?!" Greyback cried, transforming back quickly as he looked down in horror at his boneless legs.
"Let no one say I learned nothing from Lockhart," Harry chuckled, looking down at his paraplegic foe. Taking advantage of his shock, he conjured a pair of silver spikes and sent them flying through both of his shoulders.
"AHH!" Greyback screamed in pain. Glaring balefully at Harry, he snarled, "I'm going to tear you limb from limb."
"That would be difficult without any working ones of your own," Harry replied with a grin. "You can come out now, Akeno."
"Six out of ten," Akeno murmured. "You were a little sloppy at points and should have killed him early on, when you got the chance, but you took down a fairly powerful opponent without suffering an injury, so that earned you an extra point."
"What the fuck?" Greyback asked, struggling in vain against the silver spikes.
"I asked you to stay out of this, but I know how much you like causing pain and I'd like you to be the one to finish him off," Harry offered. "He's a terrible person who deserves the worst you can do to him."
"You're saying he's been a bad dog?" Akeno asked, grinning.
"The worst," Harry chuckled. "Don't make it quick."
"I never do if I can help it," Akeno replied.
"Have fun," Harry said, kissing her and flying downstairs.
"What the fuck?" Greyback asked again. Akeno's purple eyes shone with sadistic glee as she stared down at him, and when a pair of bat-like wings sprung from her back, the wolf's eyes widened. "A devil? Wait, I…"
Whatever he was going to say was cut off by the wave of electricity that barreled into his body. As Greyback's screams tore through the air, Akeno thought to herself, "How could I not love a man who gives me such thoughtful gifts?"
Terrible screams echoed through the manor just as Crouch finally caught up with what he thought was Potter. He stunned it and when that stunner just bounced off, he finally realized that he'd been fooled and lobbed a blasting curse at it, blowing it to pieces. With the fake Potter destroyed, the urge to chase it dissipated and he was able to think clearly enough again to dispel the darkness charm.
"Is that fucking Greyback?" Macnair asked, sounding terrified.
"How is this possible?" Crouch wondered to himself.
"You said Potter was weak!" Macnair snarled, shoving him.
Crouch backhanded him hard enough to knock him down and hissed, "He was weak."
"Avada Kedavra," Harry cast coldly, and Crouch could only watch as the beam of green light hit his fellow death eater, killing him instantly. "I suppose I was."
"How are you this powerful?" Crouch asked, his voice demanding as he raised his wand.
"It's like I told you before, Crouch," Harry murmured, walking into the room. "I was entered into a dangerous tournament against my will by some asshole and felt the need to start training seriously."
"This is more than the result of mere training," Crouch spat. "You found a teacher, someone other than Dumbledore, because there's no way that he'd teach you to fight like this. Who is it?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Harry chuckled. "Now, I think it's high time we had a rematch."
"You've dreamed of this day since the last time, haven't you?" Crouch asked, grinning malevolently.
"You have no idea," Harry grinned as they began circling each other.
"This is all your fault, you realize?" Crouch asked. "Your blood was the key to resurrecting my Lord, and I got it because you confronted me as foolishly as you did. Everything that's happened today has been because of you."
"Where is your master anyway?" Harry asked. "Too afraid to face the one who beat him as a baby?"
"My master fears not even death, Potter," Crouch spat. "He entrusted me with the task of capturing you while he handled something far more important. Just now he leads an assault on Azkaban, which will see his most loyal followers freed."
"What?" Harry asked, a chill going down his spine at the thought of the likes of the Lestranges going free.
"Yet another thing that's all your fault," Crouch grinned. "Ossus fragmen."
He aimed the curse at Harry's leg, and he sidestepped it, only to catch the tail end of a cutting charm in his right bicep. He grunted as he sent a nearby table hurtling at Crouch, forcing to him to jump aside.
As he landed, Harry cast, "Ruptura."
Crouch's eyes widened as he saw the purple beam of the organ-burning curse coming his way and barely managed to shield against it. The fight began in earnest as the two of them started hurling more and more dangerous spells at each other. The death eater held back to begin with, still aware that Voldemort wanted Harry alive and afraid of his master's wrath, but as Harry continued sending bone-breakers, blood-boilers, organ-rupturers, and other similarly dark and dangerous spells his way, his restraint slowly slipped away.
Harry felt ecstatic as the two of them tore the room apart, trying to kill each other. With him having suppressed all of his fear about the reason he was there in the first place completely, he could focus entirely on what he was doing, and the difference between this and their first fight was night and day. He still had a long way to go to become truly powerful, but he could clash with highly skilled opponents like this now and not just hold own but beat them back.
What he couldn't shield against or swat away, he dodged, remaining on the ground for now, as Crouch didn't know that he could fly. He gave as good as he got, and when Crouch just barely failed to leap out of the way of his latest bone-breaking curse, catching it in a couple of his toes, he couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"Crucio!" Crouch shouted, leaning more on his good leg as pain lanced up the other one.
Harry conjured a metal shield and caught the unforgivable on it before banishing it straight at him. Crouch ducked under the shield, and Harry sent a silent blasting hex with it. It hit the wall right behind him right after the shield did, and the resulting explosion knocked him to the ground.
"Accio Crouch's wands," Harry hissed, and three of the bloody things were summoned into his hand.
He summoned Macnair's wand for good measure and stared down at his fallen foe, who looked up at him in shock.
"You'll never defeat my lord, Potter," Crouch spat, "just like you couldn't save your whores' parents."
"What?" Harry asked, feeling his heart lurch.
"It's true," Rias murmured as she materialized next to him. "I didn't want to tell you while you were fighting, but they were gone before we got here."
"They died because of...ugh," Crouch gurgled as he was utterly covered in the oil that Harry conjured.
He soaked the area around the Death Eater with water and sent a small spark at his prone form, setting him alight. Crouch screamed in agony as he was engulfed by the flames, and Harry turned around, leaning on the nearest wall. His best friends were orphans, and it was all his…
He swallowed that thought and all others as he leaned fully on his occlumency. He fed all of his thoughts and feelings into the inky void of nothingness at the center of his mind and forced himself to look at the situation completely clinically.
"Harry, I…" Rias went to say as Akeno joined them.
"Not now," Harry cut her off. "Make sure he dies and destroy every hint of his body once he's dead. I have a plan."
In truth, he had the barest inkling of a plan, but that was enough for the moment. Stripped of all emotion, he could look objectively at what had happened to Hermione and Luna, and that made his next move obvious. They were orphans, and they needed a guardian lest the Ministry, infested as it was by Death Eaters, step in. There weren't many options that he could lean on.
The Weasleys were poor, and though he could pay them easily, it might still be possible for the ministry to block any effort on their part. Even if Fleur's issues with Rias and Akeno could be assuaged, he didn't know her nearly well enough to say that her family would be an option either, even with her parents remaining grateful to him because of Gabrielle and the second task. Without them, he truly didn't have any options save for one, and that option was going to need some work on his part. Luckily, he had all that he needed for that work in the manor, and the best part was that if he pulled off what he had in mind, the ministry was going to owe said option greatly.
"Ennervate, petrificus totalus," he cast on Pettigrew, and he smiled as he saw the rat man's beady eyes widen in terror. "The others are all dead, Peter and you would be joining them if I didn't need something from you."
Wormtail shivered in fear, just about the most movement he was capable of under the effect of Harry's spell.
"I could have done this while you were stunned, but I wanted you to see it," Harry continued. "Years from now, as you reflect on your situation, I want you to know that it was me; that I did it to you. Imperio."
"This is always a terribly somber day," Cornelius Fudge intoned, "and even so many years later, the anniversary weighs on us all. Those lost on Black Wednesday will always be remembered, for they made the ultimate sacrifice in the defense of all we hold dear."
Lucius Malfoy sat among the reporters who were barely paying attention to the minister as he droned on outside the memorial plaque in the Ministry Atrium. On this day back in '78, the Death Eaters dealt the auror force of the day the heaviest blow it suffered during the entire war. Eighteen aurors were struck down in the surprise assault, only managing to slay three Death Eaters in the process. It was a crippling blow for Bagnold's government and a gloriously triumphant day for the Dark Lord's forces.
He always had to fight to keep a grin off of his face when he attended these annual wreath-laying ceremonies. He had led the assault himself, earning his way into Lord Voldemort's inner circle in the process. His father, Abraxas, had been one of their lord's original followers, one of his Knights of Walpurgis, as they were known then, and had greatly enjoyed his favor. Earning his father's place at his lord's side had been one of the proudest moments of his life. Being able to sit in the small crowd, free as can be, and watch this memorial ceremony every year amused him greatly. He could practically hear Amelia Bones grinding her teeth behind him.
"We continue to honor their sacrifice, free as we are from the horrors of those days, which are now firmly behind us…" Fudge continued.
"Are they?" a sniveling voice piped up from behind the crowd of reporters.
"Sir, I would thank you to wait until the end to ask questions," Fudge replied, managing to keep most of his annoyance out of his voice. "As I was…"
"Those days have returned," the man said, throwing off his cloak, and walking forward.
"Pettigrew?" Lucius asked mentally, his eyes widening as he saw just who had interrupted the minister.
"Peter Pettigrew?" Amelia asked, just as annoyingly good at remembering faces as ever.
"Pettigrew?" one of the reporters asked, a question echoed by the others.
"Now, see here…" Fudge blustered.
"I am Peter Pettigrew," Peter declared. "I betrayed James and Lily Potter to the dark lord back in 81 and framed Sirius Black for that crime and the murders of a dozen muggles later that year."
"What the hell are you doing?" Lucius raged, looking around at the others and cursing as he saw them all hanging on the rat's every word, stunned into silence.
He would have liked nothing more than to strike the fool down just then, but that would raise more questions than anything. He saw Fudge pale as Delores Umbridge scowled at the short, disheveled-looking man.
"I cut off my finger and slipped into the sewers before the aurors showed up that night using my unregistered animagus form," Pettigrew continued, turning into a rat and back before the flashing cameras.
"I don't know who this obvious fraudster is, but he is denegrating the memory of a pure-blood murder victim, and he must be stopped," Umbridge said in that saccharine voice she put on. "Aurors, arrest him."
"Where did you hide all this time?" Amelia asked, motioning for her men to ignore that, "And why come here now?"
"Barty Crouch Junior escaped from Azkaban with the help of his father and somehow found me," Pettigrew replied. "He forced me and a few men to abduct and murder Xenophilius Lovegood and the parents of Harry Potter's mudblood friend to try and lure him out of Hogwarts. He wished to sacrifice Potter to resurrect our lord, but he never took the bait, and in his rage, Crouch tried to kill us all for our failure. I barely escaped and heard as I did that he planned to attack Azkaban to try and free the Death Eaters held there. He's mad, and if you don't arrest me and lock me up somewhere he can't get me, he's going to kill me. Please protect me from him, and I'll tell you everything I know."
Lucius' jaw dropped, and his grip on the silver handle of his cane grew so tight that his knuckles turned white. He didn't know what madness had overtaken the rat, but he swore if he ever got his hands on him, he'd make the revolting man wish that their lord had been the one to sieze him instead.
"I think that this farce has gone on long enough," Fudge muttered. "Aurors, arrest whoever this is and take him to a holding cell. Once his polyjuice has worn off, we'll get to the bottom of who he is and why he's seen fit to…"
"Ma'am, ma'am!" Kingsley Shacklebolt exclaimed as he rushed in, making a beeline for Amelia.
He whispered something in her ear that made her eyes widen in shock, and before the reporters could ask what was going on, Pettigrew took the opportunity to answer them.
"He struck the prison, didn't he?" the rat asked, looking terrified. "Oh, Merlin, he's going to kill us all!"
One of the aurors finally stunned him, but the damage was done. Pandemonium rained as the reporters all shouted, nearly in unison, demanding answers. Choosing this of all days to break the Death Eaters out of Azkaban had been Lucius' idea, one that his lord found terribly amusing. Thanks to Pettigrew's stunt, though, it was only going to be part of the story every paper in the country wrote about the next morning. As he watched the aurors take him away, he turned to see Fudge turning green as the full extent of the disaster sank in for him and sighed.
"Tearing the rat apart can wait," he thought to himself. "For now, I need to focus on limiting the fallout from his stupidity."
Blaming Crouch was a bizarre choice on Pettigrew's part, and he eagerly awaited some explanation from the man in question about what had gone so wrong with Potter, but even that wasn't his first priority. He needed to make sure that Fudge managed to bury this quickly, lest legitimate questions about Black's guilt begin to emerge in the press. He had a lot riding on the man dying without a legitimate heir, and he would be damned if he was going to let a sudden bout of madness on Peter Pettigrew's part get in the way of it.
Harry felt Wormtail lose consciousness and pulled back, looking out at the empty field he, Rias, and Akeno had landed in as he set about apparating the rat to the phone booth that served as the entrance to the ministry. He had planned to just have him make a big stink in the middle of the atrium until the aurors took him in, hoping that word would spread from there, and never imagined that he'd have the good fortune of being able to interrupt a press conference. Of course, that was the only good fortune he'd had that day.
"It's done," he muttered. "Pettigrew's been arrested and will be questioned soon enough. The aurors will find the bodies and go from there."
"That spell doesn't have to be recast periodically?" Akeno asked.
"No," Harry replied. "I'll maintain control of him until I let it go or die. I'll let him go once he's safely locked up after his trial."
"Are you ready to go back?" Rias asked softly.
"How could anyone be ready for this?" Harry asked. "How can anyone ready themselves to tear their best friends' worlds apart?"
"We'll be there," Akeno promised.
"We're here for you," Rias added, "all of you."
Harry swallowed thickly and steeled himself for what he was about to do before nodding. Rias teleported the three of them back to the room, where he found Hermione and Luna waiting for him with Fleur. They had gotten dressed, and Hermione was pacing back and forth while Luna just sat on the bed, leaning into the Veela's embrace. Her silver eyes sought him eagerly as soon as he appeared, and one look at his face made her go pale as a sheet.
"Harry, thank goodness," Hermione breathed. "Were they there? Did you…"
"I'm so sorry," Harry whispered, unable to get more sound out than that.
"N...no," Hermione stammered, stepping back. "No, NO!"
She fell to her knees, screaming and sobbing, and he rushed to wrap his arms around her. She struggled away from him, but he pulled her back in, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck, crying uncontrollably.
"Luna!" Fleur exclaimed, and Harry looked over to see that she'd passed out.
Akeno flew to her to make sure she was alright, while Rias joined him with Hermione. The next couple hours passed in a haze to Harry, who tried in vain to comfort his grieving lovers. The aurors woke Pettigrew up during it and questioned him, allowing Harry to give them the address. To his surprise, they actually spared a couple men to check out the crime scene, and soon enough, Fawkes popped into the Room carrying a note from Dumbledore.
Seeing as you and your friends are nowhere to be found, I imagine that you are in the chamber for some reason. I need to see Miss Lovegood and Miss Granger immediately. Something has happened.
"The aurors are here," he whispered, holding a sobbing Luna and a practically catatonic Hermione as they sat on the bed together.
Fleur had her arms wrapped around the three of them, and had been singing softly off and on for the better part of the last hour, trying to comfort them the only way she really could. Fawkes began trilling in tune with her, landing on her shoulder and adding his own magical song.
"Apparently the phoenixes don't hold the Veela's origins against them," Harry thought to himself.
"If you don't want to see them, you don't have to," he murmured.
"They'll search the castle for us if we don't show up," Hermione said listlessly. "Think about it."
"She's right," Rias concurred. "You three being missing after what you had Pettigrew tell the aurors would be cause for alarm."
"Fawkes, could you take us to Dumbledore?" Harry asked. "Fleur, you can stay here tonight. I won't be sleeping anyway."
"I can go with you if you want," Fleur offered, figuring she wouldn't be getting much sleep anyway.
"N...no," Luna whimpered. "It's...oka…"
She trailed off crying, and Harry pulled her in tighter, wishing more than anything else that he could take away her pain even for a moment.
"We'll stay here for a little while," Rias said, and Fleur stiffened before sighing and relaxing.
"Alright," Harry nodded before turning to Fawkes, who whisked them away in a flash of fire.
"I'm telling you, John, Fawkes would have returned by now if he hadn't found them," Dumbledore said.
Dawlish just grumbled, his nerves on edge after what he'd seen at Azkaban and the sight of the massacre he'd been sent to investigate. He joined the aurors right after the dark lord was defeated back in '81, and had been a student in the years leading up to it. He'd heard countless horror stories from those days, but he'd never seen anything that approached them. The things he saw that night were worse than anything he'd come across in his career, and it had rattled him more than he'd ever admit. When a fireball erupted next to him, he nearly stunned it, only lowering his wand once he saw the unmistakable sight of Potter's scar.
"You've...heard then," he deduced at once upon seeing the state of Potter's friends. "How?"
"Crouch sent us a howler detailing what he'd done," Harry lied.
"And you didn't contact us?" Dawlish asked incredulously, only to wince as the blonde's crying grew louder.
"We all respond to grief in different ways," Dumbledore interjected. "I take it the howler destroyed itself?"
"Yes," Harry replied.
"Then you've done your duty, John," Dumbledore said pointedly. "I'll take things from here."
"Right, of course," Dawlish replied stiffly. "We'll reach out tomorrow to discuss matters further."
He grabbed a handful of floo powder and disappeared through Dumbledore's fireplace, leaving the four of them alone. The headmaster reached into his desk and pulled out two small vials of purple liquid.
"I'm so sorry for your losses," he said softly. Holding out the vials, he explained, "These are dreamless sleep potions, and I'd strongly advise that you take them tonight, Miss Granger, Miss Lovegood."
"Thanks," Hermione said numbly, taking the potion and downing it without hesitation before sitting down in one of the wooden chairs Dumbledore kept in his office and promptly passing out.
Luna didn't even notice, still clinging to Harry and crying into his shoulder. He took the vial and brought it close, saying, "Do you want the potion, Luna?"
"I want Daddy," Luna wept, and Harry took a deep breath, focusing on his occlumency to keep from losing control.
They needed him to be strong, and he was not about to fall apart in front of them just then. He uncorked the potion and brought it to Luna's lips, letting a breath go when she accepted it. He felt her go limp and carried her to a chair to rest in.
"I'll have them brought to the hospital wing and put to bed," Dumbledore sighed. "I take it you saw a vision of the aftermath of Tom's evil?"
"He was eager to show me," Harry replied. "I think it's time we tell the ministry the truth."
"Amelia Bones should be informed, but not the ministry as a whole," Dumbledore countered. "I have been working quietly to increase the aurors' budget and make it easier for them to operate going forward. I've been spinning it to the minister as an appropriate response to the incident at the World Cup and our own trouble here, and he's accepted that well enough. He wouldn't believe me if I told him of Tom's return without proof, and a neutral Fudge is more useful to us than an obstinate one. We might not have to deal with him for much longer, though. Did Tom send you any other visions?"
"He's really angry about something just now," Harry replied, rubbing his scar.
"Harry, Peter Pettigrew turned himself in to the aurors a couple hours ago," Dumbledore explained. "He confessed to betraying your parents, framing Sirius, and being part of the group that murdered Xenophilius and the Grangers earlier. He claims that Barty Crouch Junior went mad after you failed to show up and tried to kill the others there."
"That's...odd," Harry murmured. "I guess Fudge is up a creek just now."
Dumbledore furrowing his brow at that and looked keenly at him. "I just told you that your parents' betrayer is in custody and that your godfather may well go free as a consequence. You've learned occlumency."
"I have," Harry replied, though it wasn't a question. "It's just about the only thing holding me together right now."
"That doesn't work forever, you know," Dumbledore murmured sadly. "Sooner or later, you will feel what you're holding yourself back from."
"Then I'll deal with it then," Harry scowled.
"You've gained remarkable proficiency considering that you can't have been learning it for long," Dumbledore prodded.
"Crouch suggested it before the first task, probably trying to get me to waste my time so I'd die more easily in it, and gave me a few lessons," Harry lied. The dead man was becoming a very valuable asset to him. "To be honest, it seemed to come to me almost naturally, feeling like something that I'd already learned somehow."
Dumbledore was an old, wise, and very capable wizard who had spent decades in politics. He was likely a very good poker player too, but he couldn't keep his piercing blue eyes from flicking up to Harry's scar for a moment, and that was all the confirmation that he needed.
"He does know, or at least suspect, that I'm a horcrux," Harry thought to himself.
He had wondered if the old man knew and just hadn't been able to find a solution in all these years, and gaining new reason to think so only further confirmed his choice to turn to the devils for help.
"You've shown a remarkable aptitude in multiple fields over the years," Dumbledore murmured, "and the progress you've made over the past five months has been very impressive. I always suspected that you'd go far if you applied yourself a little more."
"I wonder what frightful progress I might have made if I'd done so from the start," Harry snarked. He looked at Luna's and Hermione's sleeping forms then and sighed, saying, "How am I going to help them through this? You'd think I'd be the ideal person to do so, but I have only a single memory of either of my parents. I know what it's like to miss them, but I don't know what it's like to lose them."
"They're going to need your support, your patience, and whatever comfort you can give them," Dumbledore replied sadly. "I've lost more than you can imagine in my long life and known countless others who suffered losses as well. The best advice I can give you is to not push them. The coming days and weeks are going to be very difficult, and the best you can do is be there for them in whatever capacity you can. The pain of such losses never truly goes away, but it's sting does lessen with time."
He looked at his sleeping friends again and felt rage well up within him. They weren't going to suffer alone; he would make certain of that, both because he was going to help them through this however he could and because he wasn't going to rest until he'd butchered every last Death Eater.
"We wouldn't be in this position if they'd all been killed after Voldemort fell," he thought to himself darkly. "Showing them mercy was a mistake and a weakness, and I will not be so weak."
Lord Voldemort scowled at the sight of the empty manor home hours later. The night should have been an absolute triumph, with his most loyal followers returned, to him and Harry Potter delivered for execution. Crouch's plan was sound, helped by the intel they'd been given about Potter's friends, and with the particular Death Eaters sent with him, it should have been easy. Crouch, Rowle, and Macnair alone should have been enough to bring the boy in, while Greyback was there to tear apart anyone he brought with him, and Pettigrew was there to infuriate him and make him slip up.
Just thinking of the diminutive traitor made him murderously livid. The rat would beg for death before long, something that he would be denied for months. Somehow, Potter, or some ally of his, had frightened him enough to make him flee to the aurors for help. Given that they'd killed Greyback of all creatures, he couldn't say that he was entirely surprised about that, but it wouldn't lessen his punishment at all.
The auror force was stretched thin that night, between the chaos he'd caused as Azkaban and this. They were keeping a small force of aurors there to ensure that no one else got out, further straining their limited resources. Due to this, there were only a couple aurors still looking around the crime scene, and the dark lord quickly stunned them. Killing them would have been child's play, but it also would have been unwise. Better to alter their memories later and let them go on, unaware that he'd even been there.
With his path cleared, he glided in and was immediately taken aback by what he saw. There was a massive bloodstain on the far wall of the foyer and another on the floor beneath, where it had clearly pooled.
"This wasn't Dumbledore's doing," he murmured to himself, drawing his wand. "Loqui mortis."
He hissed the incantation of the necromantic charm and watched as the shade of Thorfinn Rowle manifested before him. It was unmistakably the shape of the tall, well-built man, made of dark smoke. The shade summoning charm was one of the most basic applications of necromancy. It allowed the caster to summon forth a manifested memory of the final moment of a living soul. He used to amuse himself in his youth by visiting muggle battlefields and casting it at will so that he could revel in the agony of the dying.
Before his eyes, Rowle was thrust back against the wall and impaled on some kind of blade that was no longer there. Voldemort examined the wall more closely and noticed that the light switch had been removed.
"So he quietly transfigured the light switch into a blade and banished Rowle into it before they even drew their wands," Voldemort surmised. "Clever, and most certainly not something that the old fool would have taught him, but was this Potter's doing or someone else?"
He banished the shade and continued onward. He could detect no further magic through the next few rooms, but that soon changed as he entered one that had clearly been the sight of another death. It was in ruins, with spell damage littered across the room and the smell of burning flesh clung to the walls like paint. Even if it hadn't, the burn mark on the floor would have been unmistakable.
Voldemort looked around the room, noticing remarkably little blood splatter for such a vicious-looking duel. Whoever had fought in here had been smart enough to vanish their blood afterward so it couldn't be used against them. When he came across a sizable splotch on the floor, he knew that they hadn't just missed something so obvious and recognized the mark for what it was. When someone was struck instantly dead and fell forward, they often landed on their face and broke their nose. The heart stopped beating, so not much blood pumped out, but enough always oozed out to leave a mark like that.
"Loqui mortis," he hissed and watched as Macnair was struck in the back by a spell that slew him instantly. "The killing curse too? Just what have you become, Potter, or allied with?"
He cast the spell again and watched Crouch writhe about the floor in agony, his lips open in a silent scream until they burned off. That more than anything was proof that Potter had dramatically distanced himself from Dumbledore. This wasn't like watching the old man fight. Albus Dumbledore was magical poetry in motion when he drew his wand, a fiery juggernaut of raw power that even he was wary of tangling with directly, but he wasn't like this.
This was the work of someone more than willing to fight brutally and put down his enemies without hesitation. Dumbledore always held himself back from such things, clearly thinking himself above it. He'd never light a man on fire and watch him burn like that. The more that Voldemort investigated the scene, the more uncomfortably similar what he saw became to his own fighting style. He shook his head and scowled as he dismissed the shades and left the room. He had accounted for all of his Death Eaters, but there was one more figure he wanted to see the final moments of.
"Nothing down here, even in the room where Crouch and Macnair were killed, looks damaged enough to have been the sight of Greyback fighting," Voldemort murmured to himself.
He didn't go with the others to the sitting room he'd just been in and didn't die with Rowle, which meant that Potter managed to separate them somehow. If anything, that added to his theory that his prophesied nemesis was working with someone else, someone exceedingly powerful.
"Who, though?" he wondered. "There are a handful of wizards and witches in the world on my level, and none of them fit the profile of what I've seen tonight. Ecaterina Mikhailova might be dark enough to slaughter like this, but she'd never help Potter for any reason and rarely leaves her tower in Siberia. Dumbledore's out, as is that pacifist fool, Balogh."
An unsettling thought occurred to him just then as he flew up the stairs to investigate the second floor. There were very few witches or wizards who could be conceivably helping Potter grow stronger, but that didn't mean that there weren't other entities out there that he could have turned to.
"The angels would never help a magic wielder, but the fallen or even the devils could, to say nothing of the gods," he thought to himself.
The second floor was disaster zone, exactly what he'd have expected from an indoor setting that Greyback fought in, and yet it was right by the steps that the beast had clearly died.
"Loqui mortis," he cast again, and he was immediately greeted by the sight of Greyback convulsing as he was tortured to death.
His first thought was the cruciatus curse, but further examination showed that he'd been electrocuted.
"Curious," Voldemort mused, banishing the shade.
Waving his wand around as though conducting an orchestra, he wove a series of complex diagnostic charms over the area, trying to pick up on what exactly had been used to kill the powerful werewolf. He picked up on a spell meant to vanish bone and conjuration of some kind and then finally found traces of the continuous stream of lightning that had ended him. He could practically smell the ozone and would have appreciated such a painful way to end a life if it hadn't been used on one of his most valuable assets. He continued investigating, trying to see exactly what spell had been used when he sensed something that sent a chill down his spine.
"No," he whispered to himself, ending his spells at once and flying downstairs.
He disillusioned himself, altered the memories of the aurors, and woke them before flying off. After landing a safe distance away, he disapparated and reappeared outside Malfoy Manor.
"My lord, you'll be pleased to know that, although they will be weak for some time, the prisoners will…" Malfoy went to say.
"Silence," Voldemort hissed. "Follow me."
"Yes, my lord," Lucius replied dutifully as he followed after him.
"Abraxas kept a particular rare tome in here," Voldemort murmured as he entered the Malfoy library. "It was a treatise written by a wizard in the fifteenth century about the various gods and other higher creatures he managed to summon and commune with."
"Conversations With the Divine," Malfoy nodded. "It's right here."
He summoned the tome in question, and Voldemort snatched it out of the air unceremoniously.
"Check on the others," he commanded.
Smart enough to realize that his master clearly wanted to be alone, Lucius simply nodded and left, not being surprised in the slightest when the door slammed shut behind him.
"I know that particular magical signature," Voldemort mused aloud as he flipped through the pages of the book. "This idiot clearly described what the particular entity's power felt like, and I can't remember which one it was. It wasn't Zeus or Thor, though."
He continued flipping through pages, his eyes scanning each one quickly as he dismissed them. The tome wasn't in alphabetical order, alas, though he doubted it would have helped him if it were. He had always been reluctant in the extreme to get close to angels, devils, or anything else of that nature. He abhorred the idea of serving another and wasn't nearly arrogant enough to think that he was the equal of some of the most powerful beings out there. That had always rankled him, but he knew that it would take centuries to reach such a level and was content to just stay out of their way until then. He had researched them a fair bit in his youth, though, and was certain that the being he sensed earlier was written of in this particular book.
"This is it," he breathed as he settled on the correct page.
He read through it, growing more and more concerned as he did. He didn't know how Potter had managed to gain the allegiance of such a being, but it fit. Crouch described a boy with great potential that he was just beginning to tap into back in December, and mere months later, he was able to crush not just Crouch but him and a pair of his more capable Death Eaters as well? That didn't make sense, and he knew that his enemy had to be getting help from someone. The site of Greyback's death confirmed it, though.
"Potter's in league with the Fallen Angel general, Baraqiel," Voldemort shuddered, sitting down.
That wasn't just bad; it was catastrophic. Such a being was beyond him, as much as it irritated him to admit it, and having him tied to the one who was prophesied to defeat him was terrifying.
"Alright, think, what could Potter have offered him?" Voldemort thought to himself. "Could the Potters have some artifact of importance to the angels in their possession? If so, I would have expected James Potter to have made use of it instead."
He wracked his brain, trying to think of anything Potter could have that would interest someone like Baraqiel, and came up short. He needed to know more, and that was going to require more research than he could do inside the Malfoy's library. If Potter could call on a general-class fallen angel, he didn't particularly want to be in Britain just then anyway. Moving his newly freed Death Eaters in their condition would be irritating, but he had no choice. There was only one person he could turn to who could be of help in this matter, and as he looked at the world map on the far wall, he knew where he needed to go next.
"I do so hope that he's still alive," he murmured to himself as his eyes found the city of Hamburg on the map.