Unofficial Portkey Archive

Standing in an empty classroom, Harry wondered at his sanity. Gingerly, Harry picked up his wand and aimed it toward the gleaming Hufflepuff cup as Serion watched on in dismay. Harry knew what had gone wrong with getting rid of the Horcrux earlier. It had come to him while he was sleeping; he had only been able to destroy the other two after the object's craving was satisfied. He was going to attempt to destroy the Horcrux alone.

The diary wanted thoughts and memories and it was only after Ginny had started filling Tom Riddle's diary with them, that Voldemort's soul lessened its hold and thus weakening itself. The same went for the ring.

The ring needed the male heir of a pureblood family to put it on, and Daniel had done so. The ring didn't care that Daniel was half-blood, just that he was heir to the pureblood Potter fortune. The weakening of Voldemort's hold on the Gaunt ring triggered the Horcrux and the soul tried to possess the nearest host. It was during the confusing in-between stages of transfer between the Horcrux and the living host that the soul could be destroyed.

§You're an idiot.§

Harry grimaced, shifting his grip on his wand. §Thanks, Serion, I'll keep that in mind.§

§Shut it,§ Harry growled.

§You do realize there's a high risk of your impending death trying to accomplish this right?§

Harry scowled. §Your point?§

§It's also very Gryffindorish behavior on your part to be doing something so brash,§ Serion added with obvious disdain.

§Tell me something I don't know.§

Serion flicked out his forked tongue. §You might live through this catastrophe.§

Harry sighed, §That's something I don't know.§

§Well, I thought being optimistic was the way to go back there,§ Serion said, slithering up onto a nearby table and curling up to watch. §You could also die.§

§Gee, thanks,§ Harry said wryly, lowering his wand to look at the green garden snake.

§Explain to me what you are doing once more,§ Serion demanded, as he eyed the cup wearily.

§The cup holds liquids,§ Harry stated with a sigh, ruffling his hair with his free hand. §Something must be drunk from it. I'm going to try water first.§

Raising his wand again, Harry cast a silent aguamenti at the cup. Water filled the cup to the brim and stopped. Apprehensively, Harry reached out to pick up the cup, holding his breath for the inevitable jolt. It didn't spark at him.

His hand was shaking slightly as he brought the lip of the golden cup to his mouth and drank deeply from it. It tasted like metal. Finishing the water, he placed it down on the table. Serion watched him and they waited. Nothing happened. A small wave of relief washed over Harry before he frowned.

§So not water,§ Harry muttered, scratching his nose. §That tasted really gross too.§

§Blood?§ Serion offered.

§Fuck,§ Harry said with feeling. §Damn arcane shit.§

Serion shifted uneasily, flicking out his tongue. §You could bring the cup to the Headmaster and not worry about it anymore.§

§The idea has merit. If you did, you won't have to--§

Harry conjured a blade and cut himself swiftly along one arm.

§Cut yourself open,§ Serion finished dryly.

Placing his arm over the cup, Harry squeezed just above his elbow and watched the blood flow speed up and pour into the basin. The cup started shaking, hissing and emitting lemon-yellow smoke.

§Don't drink from it, Harry,§ Serion pleaded suddenly, gliding over to the whistling Horcrux.

Harry patted the crown of Serion's tiny green head. §Somebody must, and it is my blood.§

He reached out to grab the cup when Serion lashed out biting his hand.

§Ouch! You slithering idiot! Be glad you aren't poisonous or I'd rip off all your scales!§

§Take it to Dumbledore,§ Serion beseeched. §Your life is worth ten of his, let him figure out what to do with the cup.§

§Is that why you bit me?§ Harry asked incredulously. §Bloody hell!§

Harry reached out and grasped Serion behind his head and squeezed. The tiny green garden snake bucked and writhed, hissed and spitted obscenities at Harry. With his bitten hand, Harry took the cup and swiftly drank down the meager contents of his blood from it. The copper taste stuck to the back of his throat, making him gag slightly, but Harry didn't stop drinking until the only thing left in the cup was a reddish stain.

Harry felt a tug. It was an extremely odd and discomforting sensation but nothing like having to regrow all the bones in one's arm and hand. A sharper tug hit him and panic rippled through Harry as his magic and life force swelled up to his skin and drained away. The Horcrux was siphoning off his energy to feed itself. Harry struggled, violently pulling the cup away from his face. Blackish goo trailed from his lips to the rim of the cup. It--Voldemort yanked harder on Harry's core, staggering the Ravenclaw as the cup bucked wildly toward his face.

Serion was yelling at him but Harry couldn't make out the words over the buzzing in his ears. He tossed the cup across the room and wobbled unsteadily as a wave of vertigo hit him. Without the presence of the Horcrux holding him up, Harry fell to the ground, barely managing to avoid cracking his skull against the stones. Pain reverberated up his forearms at the sudden impact.

Harry tried to cut off the flow of magic and but he couldn't. Even with the cup away from him, he was being sapped of life, magic, and energy. He couldn't hold onto it long enough to do something about it. A simple incantation would be too much for him. Groaning miserably, Harry struggled to stay awake, to stem the flow, to fight off the Horcrux, anything.

Managing to raise his head, he watched in horror as the amorphous goo bubbled sickeningly. Faces appeared and disappeared in screaming terror. Their otherworldly appearance reminded Harry of the restricted book in the library.

Serion was by Harry's side in a second, hissing and spitting at the black sludge as it oozed ominously. They watched in terror as the shapeless mass rose upward, forming what they both knew would be some form of Voldemort as the soul took on its shape and essence.

§Harry block the flow to him!§ Serion shouted, unsettled as the faces grew in size, their masks of horror grotesque and vivid. §Do it now!§

§I'm trying!§ Harry hissed fiercely, unable to raise his voice.

Serion shifted in front of Harry, offering what little protection he could as the mass took form and a hand popped out. It was as black as the skuzzy substance it came from. A leg followed by another hand shot out of the sludge. In minutes, an entire body took shape and the amount of energy drawn from Harry made his vision wobble and blacken on the edges.

Harry shivered; his scar stabbing unmercifully as the presence solidified and the aqueous cover slide off like a wizard's coat revealing a forty-something man with snake nostrils instead of a nose and blood red eyes. He ignored Harry, instead taking stock of his body, looking it over as if he were admiring his fine handy work. Serion's rapid hissing brought the man's attention toward to the duo on the floor.

§Ah, what is this, my fellow snake?§ Voldemort said, listening to the garden snake's string of curses. §Such language coming from the likes of you. Mind your manners or I will kill your pet human.§

§You're killing him now!§ Serion hissed, raising his head and baring fangs.

"Don't aggravate my snake," Harry muttered, fighting for balance as he rose to his knees and.

"You must be very strong to still be awake for this part of the process," Voldemort told him, stepping away from the cup. "Do you know who I am?"

Slowly and carefully, he shifted back onto his haunches, stabilizing himself with a hand on the stone floor. "Yeah," Harry managed to croak. "I know who you are, you murdering sack of shit."

"Then there's no need for me to introduce myself. However, that leaves me without your name," Voldemort said, towering over Harry.

From so close, Harry could see that the body was still largely incorporeal. Harry felt exhausted and was close to passing out. "Why do you care?"

"I should like to know it so you can be a footnote in the book written about me after I conquer Great Britain. You'll be famous for giving up your life so that I shall live."

Harry pressed a hand to his stabbing scar and used the nearest desk as leverage to hoist himself up. Closing his eyes against the whirl of the room, he took several deep breaths and tried to find his center. Maybe meditation would help him where sheer will had not.

"You can't stop the flow. I will drain you of every last drop that you have to offer."

"You can try," Harry said, removing his hand and grimacing. "But you will not succeed."

Voldemort circled around Harry, sizing him up and determining his worth. "You are a source of ceaseless amazement," he told the boy, smiling in satisfaction. "Here you are standing and talking when anyone else would be passed out like a good little donor. To think of the power you have, that I shall have and augment with my own natural gifts."

"Sodding ponce," Harry retorted, watching the shade closely. "You are a snooty bastard, aren't you. What makes you think you will succeed at your goals for power?"

Voldemort considered him for a moment, absently touching the top of one of the desks. "Very well. You have earned that right, I should think." He stopped there for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "I have done things, terrible things, to ensure my goals of power and immortality. Some… some would call me evil, but they do not have vision. The wizarding world is stagnant and ready for change. I will change it, shake it out of it's Victorian ideals and bring it forth into a new regime."

Harry watched Serion slither toward the cup and abruptly refocused his attention on Voldemort, who was now looking out the classroom's only window. "Making a Horcrux is evil," Harry retorted, staggering against the desk as another tug jerked his body toward the cup.

Voldemort whirled around, his red eyes wide and stalked back to him. "What do you know about Horcruxes?" he demanded, leaning over Harry.

"That you have seven."

Voldemort's face darkened at Harry's words. Inside, Harry thought, 'Gotcha.' His eyes flickered over to Serion and saw the tiny green snake scoop up the cup and slither out of view. He didn't know what the garden snake planned to do, but he hoped it was successful.

"Nobody can make seven Horcruxes," Voldemort scoffed, his composure once more under his control.

Harry nodded, winced, and said, "Nobody except you. I've already found two of them. The real question is how you keep making them."

Voldemort domineer switched abruptly once more as he sneered menacingly at Harry. "You won't find them all, birdbrain."

Harry spluttered a laugh. "Is that the most insulting thing you could think of or did you run out of witty things to say?"

"It's a pity you're going to die from this process, I would have enjoyed killing you slowly for your impudence."

"Damn, and I would have so loved to have been at that little party too," Harry retorted, before doubling over and heaving onto the floor. Revolted, Voldemort took a step back. "That's nasty. Reminds me of the crap that you just emerged from," he said once he stopped gagging.

"The Ensouled Elixir does not look like your vomit," Voldemort replied loftily.

"Ensouled Elixir?"

"Ingenious isn't it?" Voldemort praised. "It was created by Salazar Slytherin himself. The faces of the victims used in the creation process appear throughout the potion when it activates."

"Why use that now when you haven't used it before?"

"You know that I am the Heir of Slytherin?" Voldemort queried. Harry nodded. "I've also claimed the heritage of Hufflepuff as my own."

Confused, Harry asked, "How in the name of Merlin did you do that?"

"By killing every surviving Hufflepuff Heir. I tracked the passage of Helga's noble blood through every noble and bastardized line; killing every pureblood, half-blood, mudblood, and squib I came across. Their faces are the ones you see in the Elixir."

"But you still can't claim to be Hufflepuff's heir!" Harry said appalled. "You have no right to it."

"No right? It rightfully belongs to me as the sole Slytherin Heir. Helga's piece of the school is mine now. Soon I will control these halls and they shall be my headquarters."

"Over Dumbledore's dead body."

"How right you are," Voldemort said evilly, face lighting up with wicked mirth. "As he and his brother are Ravenclaw's Heirs. I will kill them and scoop up the prize."

"Trophies," Harry whispered, recognition dawning as he finally understood what Dumbledore's note meant.

"Yes, I suppose you could call my Horcruxes that," Voldemort answered, waving a hand dismissively. "Not much time left for you I'm afraid. Let me thank you again for your--NO!"

§He's my human!§ Serion yelled, hissing and spitting rapidly.

§That's a precious artifact, you stupid flobberworm!§ Voldemort raced over to the tiny snake trying to swipe at him as he gnawed on the metal.

Coughing up blood, Harry dragged his wand out and gave an experimental flick. Nothing happened, not even a spark. Trying again, Harry repeated the motion several times determined to get a result.

He heard the pair hissing and cursing at each other as Voldemort grew more and more harried. Serion kept mangling the metal with his fangs until he nicked himself. That's when things really got interesting.

Harry stumbled, falling flat on his face; the last vestiges of his magical reserves flooding his senses. Tingling power raced up and down his arms, slipping and gliding back into its natural home. Heady with the sudden influx, Harry lost his sight and hearing for a few precious seconds.

Looking up, Harry saw Serion flailing around screaming in agony as Voldemort flickered, cursing wildly and creatively until his image steadied out. Harry saw the difference immediately in Voldemort as his skin grew fleshier and less transparent. Before the Dark Lord could so much as raise a finger to his snake Harry fired off the killing curse.

"I am not alive you thick-witted 'Claw," Voldemort sneered, immediately turning toward him. "The next time you run off half-cocked remember that the killing curse requires so much more than desperation to cast it properly."

"You're right, that was particularly dim-witted," Harry growled, casting both Weatherby's and Hermione's curses at the cup in quick succession. "Annullo Pravus! Avedo Kaodavrea!"

The first spell hit the cup cracking the metal in two. Blackness oozed out accompanied by a putrid smell. When Hermione's slammed home it caused Voldemort to scream.

The sludge grumbled ominously before racing over and up Voldemort's body. The Dark Lord's frantic movements did not stop the flood from climbing up his body. Soon it was covering his chest and gliding up his neck, covering his chin and mouth.

The Horcrux tried to draw from Harry again. He was able to hold it off by drawing his magic inside himself with an equally unrelenting force. Fresh perspiration broke out over his brow, but he refused to let his magic go without a fight this time.

The fight between Horcrux and spell did not abate until in one burst of light followed by an agonizing scream of pain Voldemort melted into mush. At the collapse of the Horcrux, Harry's magic swelled into the room.

It was more than he'd ever accessed. Like when the flow to Voldemort had been cut off by Serion's actions, the magic came thundering home with a chugging noise similar to the Hogwarts Express. He fought to rise above the tide, but it crashed into him tugging him under. Harry sunk like a rock in water, slipping away into unconsciousness.

---

He heard whispers. Opening his eyes, Harry found himself lying down on an opulent silver and green bed. The murmurs grew louder and he slipped out to investigate them.

He ended up in a narrow corridor; Harry looked first one way then the other trying to determine his surroundings. Nothing was familiar to him, but the voices were coming from the left. Deciding something was better than nothing, Harry headed in that direction, keeping himself steady by tracing a hand along the wall.

"We're heading out tonight," a low baritone voice said inside a room. "The Dark Lord wants to make it known that nobody is safe, not even them."

"What time, Lucius?" another voice asked.

Harry crept to the doorway and peered around the doorjamb. Inside the small cramp debriefing room were four figures. Only Lucius had his bone mask off, casually discarded onto a cluttered table.

"We attack in two hours, friends," he replied, flicking his wand to a map. "Take note of the coordinates. We will be Apparating there. Expect heavy warding. Dumbledore is sure to have whipped up something special."

Harry craned his neck, trying to see the map, but it was obscured. Rubbing his scar absently, he frowned in thought. There was going to be an attack tonight. He had to tell somebody. Unfortunately, he thought disgustedly, that somebody was likely to be Dumbledore. If only the old codger would listen to him.

His thoughts were broken by a dryly said, "Bloody terrific," from a rich female voice in the back. "The Great Dummy did the wards and the Dark Lord expects us to get pass them?"

Lucius tossed her a glower. "You will do your best. Seeking the wrath of the Dark Lord is ill advised. He expects the two of you to be able to crack whatever Dumbledore could throw at you. You are after all some of Gringotts finest curse breakers.

"Now, if we could get back to the matter at hand. Watson, you are going to tackle the Missus while I go after the cuckold husband. From observations by the scouts, she will be in the kitchen or in the bedroom. The kitchen is on the first floor. Go there immediately before proceeding to search for her elsewhere."

"Yes, sir," said the man, Watson, Harry assumed, next to the woman in the back.

Lucius nodded, a curtain of silver hair covering his face for a moment before he flicked it away. "Right. Onto spells. You can of course use the Unforgiveables and other assorted illegal spells. Wield them well. Or if you find yourself more comfortable with weaker curses," here he sneered, "Then there are the standard bludgeoning, cutting, flame, and other slicing and dicing jinxes and hexes."

Suddenly, Harry felt himself getting tugged backwards towards something solid and slumbering. The last he heard before faded away was Lucius' bark of orders to eat and return within the hour.

---

"You should really be going Mr. Potter. I know you worry about your brother, but at times like these, you must leave him to his rest."

Harry dimly heard Daniel's answered murmur full of saccharine sweetness, "I just want to know if he's all right, Madam Pomfrey."

"Daniel," Harry heard Dumbledore say from close by. "Come with me to my office. You must tell me what happened."

"Well sir, I found him next to that snake and cup and did what I had to do to save him," Daniel said, his voice and footsteps trailing after the Headmaster's.

"He's lying," said a very welcomed voice.

"Hush now Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey rebuked. "You need your rest as much as Mr. Potter does."

"Well he is," Hermione replied sourly as the Healer fluffed her pillows.

"Why would Mr. Potter lie about rescuing his brother, Miss Granger? He's done it before, and I daresay he'll continue to do it."

"He was lying then too."

Harry blinked open his eyes to stare at the blurred ceiling of the infirmary as Madam Pomfrey clucked in disappointment. He felt around for his magic and almost passed out again from the rolling swells of it pounding underneath his skin for release.

More was readily accessible to him in terms of raw power, he could tell by the feel of it. He was going to have to learn how to control it soon or he'd be distracted by the headiness of it.

With a groan, Harry sat up, reaching for his glasses. He slipped them on over his nose, happy to have the world slide into focus. He quickly glanced over to Hermione and smiled at her toothy grin.

"You're awake," she said happily.

Harry ruffled his hair, smothering a yawn. "You are too. I was really worried."

"You're telling me," Hermione replied. "I saw Daniel bring you into the infirmary. Nobody would tell me what was going on either."

"I had hoped that part wasn't true," Harry grumbled. "What happened to the snake?"

She sighed and shook her head. "I don't know. Daniel only came up with you under the sway of a mobilicorpus. You used Weatherby's spell didn't you?"

He nodded. "Yes, and yours too. They worked like a charm."

"Is the cup--"

"Yes. Destroyed, much like the soul."

"Who's?" Hermione asked.

"Voldemort's."

Her face paled drastically. He didn't say anymore as Madam Pomfrey came out to check on the noise and then busied herself fixing him up. Hermione stayed silent, watching him as closely as the school Healer was as she shoved another potion at him to drink up. Harry cursed his loose tongue.

º«««º»»»ºEnd Chapter 18º«««º»»»º