chapter 18

It started with a rumbling crack, missed by the participants in Voldemort's little party as they focused on the sobbing screams that rose out of their victim. The stone shifted slowly, piece by piece as jagged edges rose up around the edge of the lake. They twitched, violent and chaotic, like a reflexive impulse of fingers wanting desperately to catch hold of something and simply begin to squeeze.

A warning that they didn't notice.

The only warning they'd get.

Suddenly it exploded, an explosive rush of vicious stone figures, all made of jaggedly broken rock and crystal that sang with an angry scraping and grinding that set ripped through the air. In an instant they all turned, their faces wide with shock, disbelief, and a sudden look of wide-eyed terror. They could see a banished wave of jagged tips of stone blasting into them with just enough time to time to instinctively try and apperate away or throw up half-formed shields to protect themselves.

Wards slammed into them as they tried to force themselves away, slamming back into the paths of stone shards that drove into their flesh like spikes, as the force behind them pulverized flesh and bone. Poorly raised shields buckled and broke, glowing bits of magic that melted as much as they shattered beneath the sudden assault. In an instant, an entire line of the masked figures had been reduced to broken, screaming wretches and the gurgling dead.

Their bodies began to shake and convulse and one particularly unlucky wizards had just enough time to fall on his arse before seven stones shot out of the body in front of him and thick rocky slabs smashed his leg between them as they formed a blood spattered arm. Sharp splashes of blood erupted out of the figures as the survivors were treated to the sight of a stone hulk forming itself from the broken bodies of their comrades. Just as they raised their wands to it, it suddenly swung the leg it held, and the helpless knight attached to it, in a powerful arc that slammed away five of them into the lake around them.

It rose up, holding the now limp figure in its hand, and loomed over them, dripping with blood and sinew.

Then suddenly a great serpent of flame was coiling around it, ignoring the way it consumed the giant's makeshift weapon, and squeezed tightly together. Hot, molten stone began to bubble and fall, making hissing drops of steam bubble and pop as it bit again and again at the jagged rock. Around them, the wizards looked horrified as the scent of burning flesh and boiling blood filled their noses.

"Did you think that I would be so easily defeated by the same tricks again?!" Voldemort's voice spoke up, echoing in fury as all around them, shambling monsters of stone and crystal dove down into the lake, vanishing into the inky darkness as the cave grew and grew insize. "Your elemental parlor tricks mean Nothing to me! I will break your precious stone toys!"

The snake suddenly squeezed sharply and a violent crack made the stone giant shatter and break as it fell into a pile of half melted stone.

"I will melt your pathetic little pets!" He threw spells at the leaping stone forms, and they suddenly vibrated to red hot in midair before turning into shapeless molten hunks that exploded into steam when they hit the water's surface.

"I will crush everything you care about, everything you hold dear!" he snarled as he slashed his wand down, and suddenly entire chunks of the cave's roof fell down like they'd been shot out of a cannon and smashed everything beneath them.

"And when I'm finished, I will-!"

"BURN!" The word was spat out with so much emotion, so much pure, unadulterated hate, that for a moment, Voldemort physically flinched before the air around him warped and wroth as the air around him burst into a vicious mix of flame and concussive force that sent him flying.

And with that Harry stepped forward from the shadows behind where Voldemort had been standing and he banished the man's throne straight into the first Knight of Walpurgis to raise their wand towards him, throwing the figure straight into the angry, burning snake had been slowly uncoiling from the mess that had been his giant.

In one slashing sweep he gestured, his wand glowing so brightly it seemed on fire as reflexively his enemies dove in a blind panic to escape whatever he'd been casting.

Only there was no spell fire, no conjuration, no charm, nothing that came even remotely close to them.

A familiar, angry, maddened voice suddenly cackled out. "What, all out of magic already, you mudblooded son of a wh-"

Walburga Black's words cut off as a flick of his wand sent a concentrated blast of air the size of a woman's fist straight in to her chest, one that hit so hard that her sternum was instantly powdered before it spread out, grabbing hold of the rest of her body and smashing it all the way across the room to pulverize against the jagged rocks sticking out of the wall.

As he seemed to ignore the way that he could see Voldemort angrily rising up out of the water he'd been thrown into, his robe destroyed, hanging off of the man's body in ragged, half incinerated tatters, revealing pink and burned flesh beneath, Harry spoke.

"For those of you too stupid to pay attention, no, I am not out of magic." He raised a wall of crystals from the floor beneath him to stand between himself and the sudden jagged spikes of ice that Voldemort had thrown at him from the lake, dully noting that they held only a few seconds before crashing and shattering as he stepped out of the way.

"But, now, now you've got nowhere to run to."

-o-o-o-

The sheer arrogance of the brat in front of him made Voldemort's blood boil as he snarled back at him. "This is where you die, Potter."

Harry simply tilted his head to the side as he looked back him. "This will be your eternity, Riddle."

It was the name that was the last straw as he could feel the throbbing pulse of magic in his eye. An eerie, bloody glow suddenly filled the air as his crimson eye suddenly turned into a solid crimson. Without even a moment's hesitation he grabbed hold of one of his wounded followers and slashed his throat, with the tip of his wand glowing in time with the pulsing of his eye.

He let his wand soak in the spread of blood before shoving away the dying knight, ignoring the desperate, terrified gurgles that came from him and stepping over his struggling body. With a snap of his wrist, he sent a splattering of the blood towards the pile of bleeding corpses. Then he ripped his wand back and suddenly an eruption of blood ripped away from the bodies, both dead and those still struggling to hold onto their lives.

Harry's eyes widened at the display before immediately slabs of stone and crystal rose up, pillars that suddenly slammed into the roof of the cave, and obscuring himself from direct sight by the forest of the stone and crystal pillars.

It made him laugh, a dark, rumbling thing as he flicked his wrist and a lash of blood cracked and shattered one of the pillars with one motion, sending it flying. "Did you really think I wouldn't be ready for you?! That I would fall for the same tricks?!"

A twist of his wand and the blood began to spin, drilling through one pillar and then the next, cracking, shattering into broken chunks that scattered everywhere. "I studied our little duel, Storm Chaser. All your little tricks, impressive as they might seem, are just that, tricks! Now I will show you real magic!"

Only, when the dust and rubble settled, his opponent had vanished from sight. Snarling, he gesture with his hand and his serpent slithered into the broken stone and crystal, turning it all into a melted mess of hissing, breaking stone. Only, suddenly it rose up like a great pair of jaws and consumed half of the serpent's body before pulling it back down into the floor.

"You call it real magic. I just call it a fetish." Harry's voice drifted through the air around him, and he snarled in response.

"More paltry little parlor tricks," he stated, growling as he raised his wand, and the drilling coil of blood solidified into a floating orb, hovering over the bodies of the first wave of dead.

Then the moans of the wounded rose into the air before becoming panicked cries as the orb called to their blood, pulling it from them bodies from everywhere it could be found in the room.

"Can you feel it, little Storm Chaser? The way it pulls at you, the blood in your veins. The way it slows down, pulling at you?" He hissed out the words with a smile, listening to the sudden shouts of panic from the surviving Knights of Walpurgis as they too felt the magic. "Blood calls to blood.

"I used to think that meant something far more… familial. Only, when you get down to it, it's far more primal, far more visceral," he purred out, as he watched one of the knights, his mask knocked away, fall to the ground, his face purpling from the pressure of the blood rushing up to it. "Blood calls to blood and it makes it so very easy to exploit, wouldn't you agree?"

Then blood burst out of the noses of the wizards, out of their ears, their eyes, flowing into the air, flowing in drops, then streams as the bloody almost exploded out of their heads and wounds, feeding into the swirling, pulsing orb in the middle of the cave.

"Seen it. Fought it. Beat it." Harry's voice snapped back almost boredly. "Not to mention, you used it wrong."

Instantly the orb spiked out, sending stabbing tendrils into every little inch of the cave, into every shadow every corner, everything that it could find.

"No, I don't think so," Voldemort stated with a smug curl to his lips as he stood there, surrounded by rigid tendrils jutting out like spears outlining his body.

"You're entitled to think whatever you want," Harry's voice countered back.

-o-o-o-

Harry recognized the spell as soon as Voldemort had flicked it into the group of bodies. His response had been swift and immediate as the ground beneath his feet flooded with his magic, spreading into the stone and crystal beneath and before him with alarming speed. Speed fueled by the sudden, raw terror that spread with a glacial chill through his veins.

Even as the first swell of blood began to take shape he had a dozen pillars up, with more rising. Then he was gone, running as fast as he could away from where he'd been standing. He recognized that spell and he knew what it could do.

He remembered a day in Sudan, working through a muggy swampland with his team, a brave handful of locals helping guide them towards the home of a local Dark Lord who had been terrorizing the village populaces. He remembered the way buzzing insects had approached them, again and again. The way the locals had looked at the small little things with a terror, like they were watching the darkest of wizards plying their trade.

And he remembered the sheer squealing terror one of them had let off when he slapped his neck and then saw a small patch of fresh blood.

The man's friends had banished him a few dozens of yards away as soon as they'd seen it. Their own eyes filled with a horrified determination as they grabbed hold of Harry and his team and pulled them away.

They hadn't understood it at first, had argued against it. Then the man had started to scream. Horrible, wet sounds as his face grew bulged and bloated and a fine red mist had started to spray out of the tiny pin prick left that had been left on his skin. And then it had poured back down on the man's flesh, eating away at the flesh of his throat like a giant crimson pustule.

Surging in size as the man's flesh had grown pale, his body faltering, falling to his knees in the muck. Then his entire throat had exploded, sending flying droplets of blood in every direction. Harry had watched as every animal they touched suddenly began to twitch and convulse and bleed.

It had been a horrible chain reaction that had thankfully been contained by the local's quick actions.

The Blood Gorger. A spell that had been used to slaughter entire villages in brutal, agonizing minutes as every living thing with blood in its veins it could touch was used to try and infect others. A curse that was considered vile and horrible on a level beyond even the unforgivable to those few who knew of its existence.

And Voldemort was apparently one of the few who not only knew of it, but had no qualms about actually using it.

He only had moments; the second stage of the Blood Gorger, while less overtly terrifying, was still more than most people would think possible. The blood fueled the magic controlling it. It turned it into a horrible weapon that could tear through almost any defense with impunity if it had enough blood to draw upon.

And then he remembered Bellatrix.

Hissing in anger, he glanced around and found her staring dumbly at head at the wall where he'd brutally half splattered her aunt.

A part of him wanted to just leave her there, to let her die so that he could then focus on Voldemort. Only, that niggling little whisper in the back of his mind wouldn't let him.

He grabbed hold of her as he pulled them both to the edge of the lake and into the water as he heard the sound of stone and crystal cracking behind them, a bubble of air forming around them as they sank down into the depths.

They were caught by several of the constructs he had animated before, the ones that had been pulling the Knights of Walpurgis that had been thrown into the lake down beneath the surface. A quick motion and the side of the small island indented, forming a cave inside the cave as he hollowed it out and created a ledge large enough for two people. It was there he left the still shocked Bellatrix as he focused his attention on the world above them.

A deep breath was taken and he focused, letting his magic reach out past the earth and the stone back into the main cave.

"-tricks! Now I will show you real magic!"

He missed out on whatever else the dark wizard had said and he twitched slightly before focusing his attention and responding with words that echoed through the air itself. So he responded by turning his stone and crystal, the burning slag and molten earth onto the flame serpent, sucking it down into the sluggish, bubbling stone. Then there was the banter, back and forth.

A moment later he could feel the magic suffusing everything, pulling at the blood in his very veins.

Next to him Bellatrix gasped in fear as she felt much the same, her eyes regaining a bit of their light as renewed fear broke through her veins. The pressure was building. Cursing softly, he gestured with his wand, forcing on blocking the pull. Lessening the pressure. Keeping their blood in their veins.

Then the spears had hit every inch of the earth, digging into the lake, trying to kill everything there.

It was just the three of them now, Voldemort had seen to that. And Harry had to respond.

When he pulled the spears back, preparing for another strike, he launched the still red hot, melted rock straight the floating orb of blood and swept it down into itself, sending a splashing wave in Voldemort's direction.

Snarling in anger and frustration, Voldemort pulled his wand back and an explosion of steaming black burst out of the rapidly cooling stone. A twist of his wand and a bright crimson orb the size of a fist exploded out of a black charred shell, steaming thickly in the air as its surface roiled and twisted like a curled sludge.

Harry pulled his senses back at that and then gave Bellatrix a look. "Stay here."

As she just stared at him with wide eye, trying desperately to keep her breath under control.

He gave her one last look before dropping back into the water.

-o-o-o-

Harry rose up out of the water with a bubbling roil as he stood on a walking collection of broken stone while Voldemort glared balefully at him.

"More parlor tricks, Potter?" The voice echoed the angry sneer curled up on Voldemort's face as he stood there, dressed in half burnt robes and radiating a burning menace.

"Just a couple more, Riddle," Harry stated back with a sharp glare that was razor sharp. And he just needed to finish this one more time.

"Then let's see how well you can perform your tricks without your tools, magician." Voldemort hissed before he invoked a wave of mass transfiguration on a scale that Harry had only heard tales of.

Every inch of stone and crystal surface in the entire cave suddenly wavered and then splashed into the lake down to three feet from the surface. Harry's eyes widened as his constructs splashed down into the water, leaving him submerged up to his knees. In front of him Voldemort hovered, his lower body a mass of black mist, his lips curled back into a smug, superior sneer.

"What now, hmm? Where are your tricks now, oh Storm Chaser?"

Harry looked back at him, glaring sullenly at the man who had destroyed his childhood, before suddenly the water swirled around him, faster and faster as it leapt into the air, blasting away from his body as slowly he rose up into the air. Glaring back at his opponent, he cracked his neck to one side and then the other as he floated there at the same level as Voldemort.

"Congratulations, Voldemort. You've managed to push me farther than anyone has in quite some time." Harry stated with a slight nod of grudging acknowledgement.

Voldemort's eyes were flat and disbelieving as his smug sneer had broken into a snarl.

"You have me at a disadvantage," Harry acknowledged with a nod of his head. "But…"

And Voldemort wasted no more time, refusing to be baited into a distraction. Spells were thrown out, a stream of action designed to box Harry in, to trap him in place as he send an explosion to the roof of the cave above him. A box to try and force Harry into a compromising position.

Only Harry rushed straight at him as a wave of water tore in either direction, as a plow of air sent it to either side. Voldemort's eyes widened and reflexively floated backwards, trying to keep distance between himself and Harry. His wand raised up, its tip glowing a sickly green as he reflexively cast what was his signature spell.

"Avada Kedavra!"

It leapt free of his wand, its form becoming a translucent skull, jaws gaping wide and hungry, as it sped towards Harry. The killing curse was followed by one, then another, each of them racing at a slightly different angle, as if trying to anticipate just where Harry would dodge.

Instead Harry dropped into the water, vanishing beneath the black surface. Voldemort shifted uneasily, swaying from place to place as he floated above surface. The dim, flickering lights couldn't reach more than a few feet into the water. Everywhere he looked, he saw the same: of rippling black surface still swaying from Harry's dive.

"Where are you? Do you think you can hide? Foolish boy, let us see what happens when your own little tricks I turned against you!" he declared, his wand raising towards the roof of the cave then twisting into a slow half circle, before viciously striking down towards the water.

Hundreds, thousands, of stalactites formed on the roof of the cave, then shot down like a rain of arrows, piercing the water wherever they could. Voldemort laughed, a harsh, vicious thing that scraped through the air. He then slashed across the air. Beneath him, the water exploded.

For a moment there was nothing, just the sound of splashing waves and crumbling rock falling into the water. Then the air began to hum, a low note that slowly rose. Higher and higher it rose. Voldemort could feel it in his teeth and in his bones. He clenched his job tightly and gestured with his wand.

And suddenly he was in silence. The hum in the air no longer shaking his flesh. The sound of the water falling muted.

Then suddenly the air in front of him distorted, bending backwards into a sphere, before exploding. He barely had the time to react, flying backwards as he raised a shield. It's still threw him out of control as his body crashed into the hard stone wall.

Harry rose out of the water than, faint traces of blood dripping down his skin, his clothes in tatters. Around him the air twisted into spirals. Voldemort could see it coiling, pulsing drawing back its strength.

He slashed an arc into the water in front of him, sending up a spray which suddenly froze into an icy wall. He only had a moment to slide away before it cracked and shattered from an impact as boring drills of air pierced through it and into the wall. With a hiss of anger he banished the shots of stone and ice back at Harry.

Air in front of Harry had barely begun to distort when he screamed and suddenly the shots exploded with a horrifying force.

Harry's eyes widened and he let out a hiss of pain as he was propelled back, skidding across the water surface. Only he twisted around, his boots digging into the water, digging a valley of waves in their passing. Then he shot forth, cannonballing towards Voldemort as he sent scything blades of distorted air spinning at his opponent.

He didn't even wait for the blades to hit or miss as suddenly a plume of flame burst at his heels, and a trail of fire lit across the water.

Voldemort had two of the blades stopped by a barrier of ice but the rest shattered it as he sent a wave of darkness that spread like ink over the water. Where it touched the blades, they shuddered and ground to a halt.

Sweat dripping off of his face, he glared balefully at Harry. The flames coursing behind Harry suddenly erupted. They rose out, surrounding him, wreathing in a hungry shell. He did not slow. He did not flinch.

In front of him Voldemort waited, knowing he would dodge. Wand raised, he held it ready, waiting. He would end this fight now.

Only, Harry had other plans.

There was no spellfire. There was no curse, no hex. There wasn't even a jinx.

Voldemort only had a moment to realize Harry intended something far different than what he expected. Reflexively he tried to banish him away. The tip of his wand began to glow that killing curse green.

Instead Harry's fist, cloaked in flame, smashed into him. It knocked him back as he could feel the crackling burn of the fires digging into his skin. He couldn't even hear the sound of his own momentary scream, but it echoed all throughout the cave.

Desperately he blasted a wave of unfocused explosive magic at Harry, knocking him away. The sizzling hiss of boiling water surrounded Harry as he sank for a moment. Then, with a shake of his head, he rose up. He looked at Voldemort and his lips curled in a snarl.

"You know, I actually thought that you, with all of the nightmares you've given, wouldn't have lasted this long. I didn't think you could push me this hard. Not anymore," he said the words bitterly. Not that Voldemort heard him.

The man realized Harry was saying something and he grit his teeth as he banished the silencing spell from him. As he spit out a mix of saliva and blood, he glared at Harry. "What are you?"

"Me?" Harry barked off a bitter laugh. "I'm an unfortunate soul who was always in the wrong place at the wrong time. All because pair of old men listened to the ramblings of a mad woman and took the words as gospel."

He paused there, tilting his head to the side, staring at Voldemort for a moment. "So, the King of serpents bit me. A phoenix cried for me. I died and rose again. You call me a magician. You say I just use tricks.

"My blood is the earth. My heart is the flame. And my soul is the wind."

"None of that matters. You are only mortal!" Voldemort spat back. "You think that you can strike me down? You think that you can kill me? Death has no hold over me!"

Then he began to laugh, a vicious, taunting thing. "I am an immortal! I shall never die!"

Harry tilted his head to the side and then shrugged. "The ultimate plan was seven, wasn't it?"

Voldemort froze at the words, staring at Harry in horror before rallying himself again and glaring back. "You know nothing!"

"A diary. A ring. A diadem. A cup," he said, each word causing with a vicious smirk on his lips to grow. "A locket. Haven't quite decided on the last, have you?"

A look of sheer terror crossed Voldemort's face. "Impossible! You can't! They are safe!"

"Well, the diary, the cup, and the locket are," Harry stated with a bemused smile. "The ring and the diadem? Sorry. Oh, and the basilisk in the chamber joined them."

For a moment Voldemort stared at him in horror before his face firmed and he glared back at Harry. "No matter. As long as the others remain, I am still immortal."

"Yes, you are," Harry agreed, only the vicious smile on his face relayed far more sinister intention. "I never wanted to hunt them all. I never needed to destroy them all. I already destroyed the ones that mattered."

Voldemort took a deep slow breath and then glared at Harry. "Then, you have already tipped your hand. You cannot stop me."

"I cannot kill you. I can stop you. There is a difference," Harry stated as he summoned forth a ball flame and narrowed his eyes at Voldemort. "Lucky me, that means I just have to destroy your body."

Voldemort responded by hissing back at Harry before a giant snake of water suddenly formed around him. "I will enjoy stripping the flesh from your bones and leaving your skull at the bottom of my chamber pot."

The ball of fire in Harry's hand morphed into a phoenix, the air rippling with its cry as it suddenly began to fly around Harry's form. In response to Voldemort's claim, Harry merely arched a brow. And then he simply gestured for Voldemort to come and take it.

And, like lightning, the serpents struck, snapping out into the distance between him and Harry, mouth opened wide with glistening wet fangs. In response the phoenix swelled up in size, letting loose a great cry. From its mouth roared out a spear of flame. It flew true and sure.

Instead of being skewered by it, the snake rippled and twisted around it, coiling along its length and shattering the flames with a hiss of steam. Still, it came. And the phoenix rose up with outstretched talons and caught the snake in its grip.

They twisted and turned, fighting for dominance. One trying to smother, the other trying to boil away into nothing. And, as they fought, then masters were not idle.

Voldemort flew to the side, trying to flank Harry. Harry retaliated by sending wave after wave of air rolling at him. They made him twist and turn, but they did not deter him

A barrage of killing curses left his wand, streaming towards Harry. Strategy and variety with thrown out the window in favor of flying death. He no longer wanted to play; he no longer wanted to prove his superiority. Now all he wanted was for Harry to die.

Harry responded by flying through the air, leading Voldemort on a chase through the cave. Suddenly a distorting sphere appeared between him and Voldemort, hanging in the air. Voldemort tried to steer around it, only Harry shot a burst of flames into it and it detonated with vicious force.

Thrown flying again, Voldemort snarled before jabbing his hand into the water as another hand, a giant hand, rose up around Harry and caught him in its grip. The flames burned around Harry, pushing back against the watery grip, trying to keep it away from Harry's body. But slowly they were losing.

His wand rising, its tip glowing green, he sneered. "Now, Potter, it ends."

Harry's eyes widened and he pushed harder, desperately, against the enclosing grip trapping him in place. Only, it wasn't enough. He could see he wouldn't be free in quite enough time.

And then Voldemort screamed in pain. His wand dropping and his hand jerking out of the water, pulling Harry down for a moment before the grip was released. Both his hands went towards his back as he turned around.

Harry stared in astonishment at the knife helped sticking out of Voldemort's back. He raised his eyes and followed Voldemort's disbelieving stare. There, standing waist deep in the water, arms still extended, stood a trembling Bellatrix Black.

"Go to hell, you bastard," she said in a voice that echoed around the empty cave.

He raised his hands as if to attack her, only suddenly a blast of air drove the knife in his back until it pierced out of his chest. With it, Harry's voice spoke up in agreement.

"Better yet, enjoy your new hell, Riddle."

He hovered there a moment longer before collapsing down into the lake. His blood swiftly spread, forming a murky cloud of crimson beneath the surface. A moment later an unnatural black mist began to rise out of his body.

"Oh, no, you're not going anywhere," Harry stated with a snarl, gesturing towards the mist, throwing out a cage of white light, like glowing panes of glass connected at its corners by stars. "This it's your eternity, your immortality, Riddle. This will be your hell until you welcome death."

He gestured to the ceiling, where it opened like a blossoming flower, revealing a chunk of quartz. As the essence of Voldemort was captured by Harry's cage, it struggled violently against its prison. He could almost hear Voldemort wailing as the cage carried its prisoner up to the courts and then into it. A moment later the stone close to again, trapping the quartz, the prison, and Voldemort, in darkness.

Harry then turned and looked at Bellatrix.

"Didn't I tell you to stay down there?"

"You're welcome." Bellatrix stated flatly as she glared at him with narrowed eyes.

"Thank you," Harry stated with a roll of his eyes before pausing and arching a brow. "Wait, where did you get that knife?"

Bellatrix turned her head towards the body of her aunt. Harry could see were her robes had been slightly opened and quickly turned his face away, suppressing the sudden pulse of nausea he felt the back of his throat. When he looked back at Bellatrix, he wore a grimace of distaste.

"Couldn't you have just told me that? I could've gone without seeing that," Harry half complained as he focused on the earth beneath his feet and slowly pulled out a walkway towards his tunnel.

"You only had to look for a moment," Bellatrix stated with a grimace. "I had to be the one to actually search inside."

Harry sighed and shook his head before raising the stone beneath Bellatrix and his feet up and out of the water. With a gesture, a spark of fire began to slowly circle around her, spreading its warmth into her wet, thinly dressed body.

"Here," Harry gestured with his wand, summoning forth a simple black robe and then lightly tossing it to Bellatrix. "I think it would be best if you put on something more."

She clutched at the robe, holding for a moment, before slowly pulling it on as she affixed him with a look. "Oh, now I have something you want to see."

For a moment he just glanced at her before he then let out a bitter chuckle. "I never thought you were unattractive, Ms. Black. I simply look at more than just a woman's beauty."

She shook her head. She felt, well, tired. Everything that she had been through, everything she had experienced in the last few minutes, all of it suddenly slammed into her at once. The Imperius. Her aunt. The Knights of Walpurgis. Their words, their actions, their spells, their intentions.

The way she had felt so absolutely, completely helpless. The way they toyed with her, the way they made her completely humiliate herself for their amusement. She remembered those things and the way she'd gone from uncaring bliss, the horrified realization...

"… How many people have you seen something like this happened to?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper as she stared down at her feet.

"Something like what?" he asked curiously as he gave her a look with his head tilted to the side.

"You know what," she stated firmly.

He paused for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "To be humiliated? To be treated as and made to feel like you're less than human? To be tortured by someone who was just looking for an excuse to be a sadist?"

"… Yes," she agreed softly looking to the side, staring at the dark water.

"That was me, growing up," Harry stated simply. "There was always someone who wanted me to think I was worthless, that I only deserved scorn and ridicule. There was always someone decided they could treat me like a thing because of my birth, my family, or the things I could do."

"Oh," she stated as a horrifying revelation hit her. "Oh."

"Yes," he agreed with a thin smile. "Oh."

"I, ah, see," Bellatrix half whispered before taking a slow deep breath. "Do you hate me?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. "No, Ms. Black, I don't hate you, I have seen entirely too much hate to willingly invest in it myself. I have seen what hate does to men. I want no part in that."

She looked at him, finally. Her eyes were dark, glistening with unshed tears. "I didn't want to be like that. I just wanted to fight. To prove myself, that I was worthy, that I was more than just a pretty pureblood bride."

"Then, Ms. Black, exactly what did you think would happen in that pub where we first met?" he stated, pausing, slowly turning around and affixing her with a look. "How exactly did you figure that attacking a group of unarmed Muggles was going to be a fight?"

"They only told us that there would be violence and we would have a chance to prove that we were where the purebloods." Bellatrix stated as she looked at his lips instead of his eyes.

"And you thought… what? That it would be some kind of tournaments, perhaps? An underground dueling ring? Maybe a cage match, between yourself and some helpless muggleborn?"

He asked the questions with a brutal point, pressing her with his words as he stared back at her with cold, hard eyes.

"I didn't think," she admitted, her whole body slumping. "I just wanted something, anything, to make me feel like I mattered. I had already been sold off to Lestrange."

She paused there for a moment before shaking her head. "No, that's not right. I had been expected to marry a pureblood. I had been required to marry a pureblood. He was someone my family accepted, someone they found to be a proper pureblood. To be honest, I didn't even care for him."

Her shoulders rose and fell and a shrug. "I remember that night, when I realized that he was dead. That I would not be marrying him. I didn't feel sadness, I didn't feel the elation, I didn't feel relief. I felt… nothing. He had meant nothing to my life.

"Instead I felt the horrified fascination with you." She looked away, staring out into the darkness, her eyes unfocused, looking not at the scene in front of her but deep into her memories. "I remembered the violence, how grand and impressive it seemed. I remember then how much it fascinated me. How easily it came to you. No remorse, no restraint, no hesitation. And I've realized how much I wanted."

Shoulders slumped, she began to chuckle bitterly. "And I thought it was the violence that freed you. I thought it was the violence that would free me."

Harry was silent for a long moment before calmly responding, "It probably would've, but it would've left you a very unpleasant person. And eventually it would've led to you doing to others what was done to you tonight… and worse."

She shuddered, nodding her head faintly as she looked down at the wet stone ground. "I know. You knew. You saw it, didn't you? You saw what kind of monster I could've become."

He pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. "I don't think it really matters. All I can really say is that I think you were ignorant. It wasn't the violence that freed me. In fact, in a lot of ways it holds me back.

"What frees me… I can't say it's a lack of fear, because I still know fear. No, what frees me is looking at that fear and understanding that it can't hold me back, that it doesn't control me. I am who I choose to be. Flaws, faults, failings. I'm not perfect." He looked pensive for a moment. "I don't know how else to describe it. I am me. And I know no one can change that but me."

Slowly she looked up from the ground and looked at him with cloudy eyes, a frown tugging at her lips. "But what about expectations? Traditions?"

"What about them?" he shrugged and allowed brief smile on his face. "I lived with the expectations that I was bound to be either Merlin reborn or a horrible Dark Lord in the making. Often from the same people. Traditions? The good ones can be nice if done for the right reasons. The ones that are done just because they're tradition? You should follow a tradition because you want to, because you respect it. Doing something just because others did?"

He snorted and shook his head as he gestured with his wand to the wall and the walls seemed to melt down, revealing a tunnel.

"Traditions start for a reason. As long as that reason is still valid, there's still a reason to follow it. Though, if that reason is just hate, sadism, and self-superiority, well…"

"You don't consider those valid reasons." Bellatrix pointed out with a shrug of her shoulders. "After tonight, I can't say I particularly do either."

"Then, perhaps there's hope for you yet." Harry noted with a nod of his head.

-o-o-o-

He escorted Bellatrix back to the door of her parents' home and then swiftly vanished to Hogsmeade. He appeared before The Three Broomsticks and walked inside. Madam Rosamerta smiled when she saw him, shifting her hips slightly to the side as her lips revealed the flash of white teeth.

"Well, welcome back, Professor Potter. Get your business taken care of?" she asked before pausing and frowning. "You vanish so quickly, I didn't even get the chance to say hello to you earlier. Seems to be the day for people vanishing. I could've sworn Bellatrix Black was here, but I can't seem to find any record of her."

"Business is all taken care of, yes," Harry agreed with a nod of his head. Then he winced as he listened to the rest of her statement. "I'd advise you to talk to the mind healers then, because Bellatrix Black was kidnapped under the Imperius. Someone might have done something to you too."

She paled, her hands rising up to her mouth. "That poor girl! I hope she'll be okay!"

"I imagine she'll be fine. She was fortunate enough to have her trouble intersect with my business," Harry stated with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Now, I apologize, but I need to use your floo. I left the headmaster rather anxious and I'm sure he's eager to hear from me."

"Oh, of course!" she stated with a nod of her head. "You know where to find it."

"Thank you," he said, before slowly walking over to her fireplace and grasping hold of a handful of floo powder. "Hogwarts, headmaster's office."

As he spoke the words, the powder ignited in the flames, turning them a flickering green. There is a moment where there was nothing but flickering flames. Then Dumbledore's face appeared, his features looking both curious and expectant. "Professor Potter. I take it that your business is done?"

Harry grimaced for a moment, before nodding his head. "I suppose you could say that. It turned out to be more involved than I thought it would. If you don't mind, I'd prefer if you let me through, and perhaps invited over Mr. Moody."

"Why, Professor Potter, do I have a great feeling of trepidation?" the headmaster asked with a sigh. "Very well. I will reach out Alastor."

Harry turned his head, giving Rosamerta one more nod, before vanishing in a flash of flame.

When he reappeared in Dumbledore's office, the headmaster was able to get a full view of Harry's current state. Where Rosmerta had missed most of the small, subtle little signs of his ordeal, Dumbledore caught them with only a glance. Harry watched the man frowned then affixed him with a piercing look.

"I have to say, Professor Potter, I am not accustomed to having my professors return from their outings showing every indication that they managed to find themselves in a bit of a scuffle. I do hope this isn't going to be a habit of yours," Dumbledore noted with a slightly distressed voice. "I believe I'll find it very… trying to continue to explain away a common recurrence like that."

"Things ended up being more…" Harry paused for a moment trying to find the right words. "Involved than I thought they would be."

"Indeed?" Dumbledore asked, his brow arching up slightly.

"I'm in bad need of a drink," Harry stated flatly as he shook his head. "What I encountered… let's just say it's not the most encouraging of things. Though there is some good news to go with."

"And now I feel a swell of trepidation. Must you, Professor Potter?" Dumbledore asked as he looked at the man. "I am, alas, an old man. I can only take so many surprises."

"All I figured was I'd tell you first as you are technically my employer," Harry stated blandly as he shook his head. "And I was, technically, acting during my working hours."

"I feel a great swell of esteem knowing that you place such high regard on my position." Dumbledore stated dryly and lifted the bowl of candies in front of him towards Harry. "Lemon sherbet while we wait?"

"No, thank you. Though as I said, I wouldn't say no to a drink. Especially some whiskey," Harry stated with a sigh. "I'm already quite tired."

"I've always found fighting tends to be a most strenuous activity," Dumbledore noted before flash of green flame announced the arrival of Alastor Moody. "But as the esteemed auror Mr. Moody has arrived, please, do enlighten us: what was all this about?"

"Aye, I'd rather know exactly why I suddenly got a message from Albus right before my bloody shift is over, with an allusion to what's likely going to be a nightmare worth of paperwork for me. So, what's going on?"

"I discovered him a location of significance to Voldemort several months ago. He hadn't done anything at the time, at least not there, so I left an alarm ward behind along with a secret entrance. Earlier today the alarm was tripped.

"It was only supposed to activate after any wizards had arrived to then left, so imagine my surprise when I showed up to find them in full revel. Voldemort sitting back and watching as his followers tortured and molested Ms. Bellatrix Black."

Harry let those words sink in as he sat back in his chair. "And, of course, the bastard had up anti-port key and apparition wards. That put me in a very… particular position."

"The girl?" Alastor asked with narrowed eyes.

"With her parents," Harry answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "After everything, I figure that would be the best place."

"What about the aurors?" Alastor demanded.

"More importantly, what about the healers?" Dumbledore asked as he shot Alastor a look of disapproval.

"I left it up to her how she wanted to do things," Harry stated simply and shrugged his shoulders. "She thought her family more appropriate."

He tilted his head to the side, and gave them both a look. "I wonder why that is?"

Alastor Moody took a slow deep breath, before looking back at Harry. "I'm going to need a statement from her."

"Why?" Harry asked blandly as he continued to sit tiredly in his seat. "Don't think there's anything you need to worry about anymore. At least why are they're concerned."

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment, taking a slow deep breath. "Do I want to know what you did?"

"I wasn't the one who killed most of them," Harry stated shaking his head. "Voldemort's Blood Gorger saw to that. And it's why I really want to drink right now."

Dumbledore went still while Alastor just looked confused. "What the bloody hell is that?"

"An anti-army blood curse," Dumbledore stated in a faint half disbelieving voice. "One considered a war crime in the civilized world. It is one of the few spells I wholeheartedly support the annihilation of any and all reference to and of."

Alastair stared at Dumbledore, his mouth half opening as his brows rose up his face. "What the bloody hell is so horrible about it?"

"If used right?" Harry asked, a shudder running down his spine as he again recalled his previous experiences with the spell. "They can use a mosquito to kill an army."

"The Blood Gorger contaminates any bloody comes in contact with. It uses that blood to power itself, and takes control of it," Dumbledore stated with a quiet voice, his eyes affixed to Harry. "Contamination is almost instantaneous. Typically the blood is then ripped out of the victim's body and used it to attack everyone else around it. Continually feeding itself new victims, growing in size, growing in power."

"Yeah, I was lucky," Harry agreed with a nod of his head as he shuddered again. "The bastard knew how to use it but he didn't have the creativity to make it as dangerous as it could've been. Still, he did use his followers to power the whole bloody thing. Even the ones who weren't even hurt."

Warily he looked at the two. "That place is a graveyard now. I'd suggest you leave it as such."

"And Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked intently. "What of him?"

"I left him with his precious immortality," Harry stated as he looked up and stared into Dumbledore's eyes. "Since he valued it above everything else, I figured he wouldn't mind paying with his life, his body, his freedom, and his mind."

Dumbledore blanched slightly, his face pale as he looked at Harry. "Then he is…?"

"Trapped. And unable to escape," Harry added flatly. "Where only I know where he can be found, primarily thanks to his own ward work."

"What the bloody hell are you two talking about?" Alastor demanded.

"Old Tom, well, he decided he was going to cheat death," Harry stated as he looked at Dumbledore. "And he thought he found the perfect way to do it. Split his soul, attaching to artifacts so valuable that he thought no one would consider destroying them. Only he didn't think about why it is no one uses them, beyond the fact that you're tearing your part your soul."

"It is an abomination," Dumbledore stated with a shake of his head. "It denies you your ability to move on. You are trapped between life and death, unable to move one way or the other. A miserable existence."

"So… you're saying that all the attacks are going to stop, but you won't give me any proof of it. And in the next few days, I'm going to find out that another group of fine, upstanding purebloods are reported missing and they're never going to be found." Alastor stated slowly. "And just like that, the Knights of Walpurgis are gone."

Alastor just stared at Harry.

"Does this mean that I can assure Minerva that your lessons will become more… acceptable?" Dumbledore asked as he tried to change the subject.

"I think not," Harry stated with a shake of his head, "but you can assure her that I will be staying no more than seven years."

"Just long enough for a single class?" Dumbledore asked, sounding slightly disappointed.

"Seven years to determine if what I'm teaching has any value or not. After all, if it doesn't, then Minerva will have proven her point, now, won't she?" Harry noted with a tired sigh. "Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I'm going to my room. I'm going to have a drink and an early night so I can pick up first thing in the morning and try to get some actual teaching done."

A few moments after Harry left, Alastor turned to Dumbledore and stated bluntly, "Albus? That boy scares me."

"I find myself rather uneasy with him, to be honest," Dumbledore admitted with a faint shrug of his shoulders.

"You find yourself uneasy because he's a warrior," Alastor stated matter-of-factly. "He scares me because he gave that report like I would after catching some fresh out of Hogwarts idiot muggle baiting."

Dumbledore blinked a moment, then slowly nodded. "Because he speaks with a familiarity bordering on weariness?"

"Because he's so bloody familiar with clusterfucks like this that they don't surprise him, and he knows to keep his mouth shut about things that could cause problems down the line," Alastor stated flatly. "Since only he knows where to find that bastard, only he can get him back out and only he can reveal the information to someone else."

"Ah, and that means it is unlikely to be coerced out of him," Dumbledore agreed with a vague nod of his head.

Alastor looked at him for a moment, before sighing and shaking his head. "I'm going back to the Ministry, Albus. Then I will be heading to have a few words with Ms. Black to have her corroborate Mr. Potter's story. In the meantime, I would consider you keep a watchful eye on your young professor."

"… If I might ask why?" Dumbledore asked in confusion.

The auror paused for a moment, as if weighing the words before shrugging his shoulders. "Because he's either a confrigo waiting to go off or a man who has a lot of things to teach."

With that Alastor Moody nodded his head towards Dumbledore and moved back to the floo, leaving the Headmaster to sit in his chair in quiet contemplation.