Sinister laughter bounced around his skull, scorching him where it fell. Harry doubled over, groaning at the torturous sounds.
Give up, whelp. You can't flex your muscles now. I AM KING. I rule supreme, here inside your body, inside your mind. You have no power here.
"NEVER!" Harry bellowed, his voice shaking the ceiling ominously.
Oorjit flapped frantically around his head, watching helplessly, dread deep within him. He had seen the flash of red as the Dark Lord's soul fragment leapt from the mirror into his King. Never had he felt more miserable, for there was nothing Oorjit could do to help. The fight was beyond him, taking place in every flash of those red ominous eyes inside Harry's skull.
§What can I do, Master?§ Oorjit shouted down. §Tell me, Harry!§ he pleaded as Harry twisted and twined like a snake in human form on the floor.
"You are the one who is nothing!" Harry vowed fiercely, his body lengthening, thickening.
Oorjit flew to the rafters, getting out of the way of his rapidly transforming Harry. Even coiled tightly, eighty feet of basilisk would not fit in this dungeon. The dank ceiling was his only chance of survival.
§Crack the mirror, Oorjit!§ Harry hissed forcefully, air whizzing through the remnants of his teeth. He was twenty feet tall now and still growing.
Oorjit looked down at the small room and hissed, §You're in the way. The room is too small! You'll crush me!§
§OORJIT!§
Oorjit nodded in defeat and dove without a thought through the rapidly dwindling space as Harry's coils filled every corner in the room and still he grew. Harry felt his sides rub against the walls and suddenly the castle groaned. Long low cracks broke the stone walls, starting from where the pressure of Harry's coils broke them. The cracking continued ominously as it radiated out in all directions.
The ceiling shook and when Harry's head crashed into it, broke apart. Large stone slabs shook loose landing on Harry's massive form. The throbbing pain was forgotten under the onslaught of the raging migraine developing inside his skull.
You can not hold me out forever, Voldemort cackled ruthlessly. Soon your defenses will crumble and I will be King of Serpents. All will fear me and hate you. They will see just how mighty their pathetic hero is when I use your image to do my work.
He was Harry, King of Serpents, the guardian of all the world's belly crawlers, and no one was as good and as strong as he. Only he was deserving of the title and to prove it the unworthy one would die. The violence in Harry blossomed as he came in contact fully with his basilisk mind.
The basilisk in Harry thwamped eagerly, confidently, against the walls. Several fresh cracks rippled through the stone and debris began to break free. The rubble that hit Harry bounced off harmlessly once more. An inhuman roar rippled through Harry's throat as he cackled in triumph. Nothing could hurt him.
Temporarily the voice was silenced as the basilisk mind ran right over Voldemort's presence. A quick debate and Harry let his basilisk mind slide back, shifting patiently, eagerly in the back of his thoughts and called to Oorjit.
§Where are you?§
§Here,§ came the muffled response somewhere trapped inside Harry's coils.
It was impossible to contain an eighty plus foot snake inside such a small room. Guiltily Harry struggled to wiggle some room for the compressed occamy. The stone slid roughly against his scales.
Pathetic, sneered Voldemort. I can do so much better. Watch.
Blinding red light shattered across Harry's vision and he thrashed around in agony at the pain that followed it. Walls tore asunder as his coils crashed through them. The basilisk in his head quickly came to the fore again only this time Voldemort was speaking to it in Parseltongue. Struggling for control, Harry hissed back reaching out mentally to connect with his form.
He wanted to rip. He wanted to kill.
But the taunting voice was just out of reach, slithering in the shadows. It had no smell. He couldn't track it. The voice would speak from everywhere at once and still not be present. This angered him. No snake was dominant to him. None could hide from his superior senses. The fact that the voice managed to so easily was infuriating.
If he could just bite, the potent venom in his fangs would prove who was the ruler. If he could find the voice he could kill it with a stare. Rip. Tear. Kill.
§Bring me the mirror,§ Harry gasped, flinging himself out of the basilisk's domineering thoughts.
He wasn't strong enough yet to meld them to his own and stay in control. They had worked on it at night but the distance between his human and inhuman thoughts could not be so easily crossed. The predator's instincts and interminability made every effort cost. Harry knew intuitively that he was fighting with his baser self when he struggled with the basilisk as he was the basilisk.
But now was not the time to struggle with his separate selfhoods. He did not have time. Hermione did not have time.
§The mirror, Oorjit! Bring me the mirror!§
§You're too late!§ Voldemort screamed gleefully in his mind. §While you so foolishly thrust away the power the basilisk brings you, I accepted it. We're melded boy… so firmly entrenched that if you kill me you'll kill your form.§
Harry checked for the presence in the back of his mind. It was absent. He panicked. §OORJIT!§
§Since you can't stay awake forever all we have to do is wait for you to sleep. And as for your little friend, he'll be dead.§
With Voldemort in control of the powerfully primitive mind of his animagus form, Harry suddenly found himself at a loss for control of his body. Voldemort shifted the huge coils, bearing them down haphazardly with so much force the world rocked beneath them. Bright glowing green eyes tracked Oorjit as he broke through the coils, struggling mightily with the Mirror of Felsrenni.
§STOP!§ Voldemort hissed through Harry's mouth, red flashing briefly through those bright green orbs.
Oorjit didn't stop. It was as if he knew his king was trapped and that the voice commanding him was the Horcrux. Voldemort lunged forever snapping at Oorjit, trying to scare him into submission. Harry fought back struggling to stop the involuntary movements. The effort worked and Voldemort barely missed the occamy. But it was close.
Come on, Harry urged, pushing hard against Voldemort's presence as he did so.
The two were once again locked in mental battle. Harry spoke rapidly to the uncaring presence looming in his mind. Voldemort laughed sinisterly when Harry's form betrayed him, not heeding the sound of his own Parseltongue.
Harry switched tactics and threw himself into the combined thoughts of Voldemort and his basilisk, melding himself seamlessly into the void. Thoughts lashed out at him but Harry held firm.
Rip. Tear. Kill.
Intruder. Kill.
Kill.
Kill! Intruder!
Kill! Imposter!
Grabbing onto the stream of thoughts Harry pushed the word imposter through to his form. Harry fought with Voldemort, slowly, surely, regaining his purchase in the mind of his basilisk. Incensed swearing echoed in Harry's conscious as Voldemort lost control.
You didn't think it would that easy to lay claim to the King, did you? Harry thought, forcefully pushing Voldemort off, but not out.
§Oorjit! The mirror!§
§Here, Master!§ Oorjit wheezed, hovering unstably before Harry.
Harry inhaled sharply at the stupid thing he was about to do and opened his eyes. Huge green glowing orbs collided with the mirror lancing through it, shattering the glass into a million fragments. Oorjit yelped, thrown back against the wall even as Voldemort bellowed in rage as he was ripped from Harry's body without so much as an ado.
Harry started shrinking, reversing the transformation. The floor rapidly rose to meet him and he pitched forward at a run to Oorjit. Peeling the wooden frame from around the occamy Harry winced as he saw the damage.
§My poor friend,§ Harry murmured, feeling intensely grateful for the young occamy. §Stay still, I will get these shards out of you. Be calm or you'll lose lifeblood.§
Oorjit moaned pitifully as Harry used magic to remove the chunks of wood and glass from his slender body. Conjured bandages wrapped the wounds after a minor flesh knit charm was placed. Harry could only hope it worked on snakes as well as humans. One of Oorjit's wings was bent backwards from hitting the wall and knowing it would hurt he stunned the occamy. Setting the bones into place with a series of cracks and pops, Harry wrapped it too in a makeshift bandage sling.
Upon awakening Oorjit let out a high pitched scream of pain. §You stupid cuss! You're a king not a healer!§ he swore when the agony ebbed.
§Thank you,§ Harry informed Oorjit, scooping him up and tucking him against his body heat.
Oorjit let out another moan, this time more pleasure filled. Drowsily he hissed, §At your humble service, my lord.§
§Above and beyond,§ Harry murmured as the air shimmered.
Above the shattered remains of the mirror an image formed projected into space. Slowly it coalesced into a form Harry knew too well. Hermione. Hermione. He set Oorjit aside and elated Harry ran to her.
Gently he lowered her to the ground, hastily sweeping it of mirror shards. Cradling her in his hands, Harry used his wand to cast a full body scan. At the results his relief was almost staggering. All her vitals were high, she just seemed to be unconscious.
"Hermione," he crooned softly, gently shaking her.
The lights flickered. Troubled Harry looked up at them before looking back around at Oorjit. The snake was staring entranced at something on the floor behind him. Harry whipped his head back around and inhaled sharply.
Clutching Hermione to him, Harry watched in trepidation as a glistening red form spilled out from the broken garter. It was blood. Harry set Hermione down and warily stood up calling his wand to his hand. There was still one last Horcrux to fight.
The blood pooled upward, fast like water falling backwards. Voldemort as he never appeared before, stepped out calmly. His bright blue eyes gazed at Harry with quiet amusement. He looked… human… muggle.
"Daniel," he said in greeting. Harry kept quiet, obviously this version still didn't know who he was dealing with. "I had a feeling Dumbledore would set you on the task to find the pieces of my soul."
"I've found them," Harry sneered confidently, raising his wand. "You're the last."
An amused smiled ticked upward. Voldemort smirked at Harry. "Is that so? Not to worry, not to worry. I took precautions just for that probability as unlikely as it seemed. I wasn't going to be caught with my guard down. Not after you broke free of me in the graveyard, but no matter. No matter."
"Precautions?" Harry asked, a trickle of anxiety prickling the hairs at the back of his neck.
"Hmm--yes," Voldemort replied, tilting his head. "A few modifications, if you will, to the ritual. Would you like to see?"
"Not particularly," Harry answered. "I would like you to die."
Voldemort laughed joyously and the sound hit Harry with foreboding. It sounded so wrong. Where was the sinister hissing? The telltale red gleam of hatred? Harry shifted slightly, tensing, preparing for the expected attack.
He got it. Voldemort sprung forward, lightning quick. Harry shot off a spell he'd seen Lupin cast on Peeves in third year. It held no affect on Voldemort's soul. The mirror shard it hit however sailed backwards breaking into even more pieces against the stone wall. The tinkling noise sounded just as Voldemort's fist slammed into Harry's face.
Stumbling backwards several paces Harry waved his wand frantically casting the first spell that came to him. A distinctly dark soul spell designed to render the soul trapped fired dead on and broke against the floor with a splash. Voldemort laughed brightly, slamming his elbow into Harry's nose.
Frantic and bleeding, Harry tried to shove Voldemort off of him, but his hands passed right through Voldemort's body.
"Wha--How?" he managed just before Voldemort landed a solid jab to his solar plexus.
Doubling over, Harry received a knee to his chest and an elbow to the jaw. Blindly he fired off a ghost repelling spell. He was grasping for straws and was falling short. Voldemort slammed his heel down on the arch of Harry's foot. Harry grunted in pain, curling up as the blows continued to rain on him.
Hauling him up by the arm, Voldemort threw Harry over his shoulder. Landing with a groan, Harry shot off three more spells across his body, watching as they uselessly splashed against the floor, the walls, and the door. Voldemort was on him again and Harry rolled out of the way. A boot smashed into the ground right where his head had been.
Scuttling backwards Harry threw spell after spell. "This is not possible!" he muttered, angry, bleeding, and scared.
Voldemort chortles. "Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. Spells won't work against me. I don't have a body and I am not a ghost, though I suppose I do haunt you. Do you have nightmares?" he asked, stalking closer.
Harry scrambled away, winded and aching. His magic was useless against Voldemort. How? How?
Oorjit called from beside Hermione, trying to appear small and insignificant. §Snake magic, Harry! Use it!§
§Harry?§ Voldemort asked, hesitating. His eyes ran along the length of him and he broke out bemused laughter.
Truly this version of Voldemort was terrible. Frightening in ways his real self could never hope to be.
§It's ickle Harryikins?§ Voldemort asked, peering more closely yet. §It is. It is ickly Harryikins. Harry how suiting. You're going to be as much a failure as your pathetic brother.§
§Destroy the impure soul!§ Harry bellowed, shaking as magic swelled in him and sprang forward hitting Voldemort in the chest.
Voldemort looked angry. §You dare call snake-magic against me? You, a squib in comparison to the mighty Dark Lord?§
§King, you wanker,§ Harry spat, blood landing on the floor. §Not squib, king.§
Voldemort's eyes narrowed menacingly. §Likely story. As king you would realize that the snake magic is not as powerful as the wizard's magic. Though it does tend to scare the followers into obedience faster than the pain curse.§
§Or,§ Harry countered, §the squib claiming greatness can not wield it.§
§I did not disappear so readily on the other hand.§
Harry contemplated that. §It is the first time it has failed me outright,§ he acknowledged.
§Interesting, you still claim it works then? Kill the snake-child!§ he screamed.
Air stirred, whipped around Harry's hair and Voldemort looked surprised, then pleased. The wind died and Harry stood there as unruffled as Voldemort had been by Harry's Parseltongue spell.
§Intriguing,§ Voldemort replied. §But hardly effective. It has limits, sadly. However, even so, we are not as shall we say at an impasse. I can still kill you with my bare hands.§
§And I can not lay a hand or spell on you,§ Harry reaffirmed. §How?§
§I rewrote the ritual. The impure wizard blood was strained out of me as I channeled this part of my soul into the garter. It is not the only thing I changed though as you noticed.§
Harry's eyes gleamed. §Die Voldemort,§ he mocked. §Destroy the dark one!§
Magic flared again and fell aside. Voldemort's irritated countance shifted as he charged Harry again. Dismayed at the magic ineffectiveness, Harry dodge Voldemort's kick and prayed for an idea.
Harry felt the drain on his magic as Voldemort stole it from him to power his attacks. "Magica Esse!"
The shield sprung in place and Voldemort fumbled. The redness of the blood that made him crept back into his skin. Voldemort snarled. Hands outstretched he pushed through the barrier that Harry held and wrapped his hands around his neck. Harry smirked when they fell through, missing their target.
Harry cast the Scruta charm next, driving Voldemort back like he was a Siccus. The blood began to boil, bursting in little ruptures everywhere the pale skin was exposed to the air. Voldemort screamed in rage, striking at Harry only to find his strength gone.
"No! This can't be!" he roared, passing his hand through Harry's head again and again. "I changed it. You can not defeat me!"
"Want to bet?" Harry taunted. "Expecto Patronum!"
His patronus erupted from the tip of his wand attacking Voldemort viciously. Flesh tore in chunks, melting into blood as they detached themselves. Crazed, Voldemort looked around and flew across the floor, bursting into a spray of blood and gore as he dived at Oorjit and Hermione.
The pull on Harry's magic ended. He sighed in relief. "That's over," he murmured. "Now there's only Voldemort left."
§Not quite over,§ Voldemort declared in the hissing tones of the injured occamy. §Did you know, Harry that the snake-bird's venom is among the deadliest in the world?§
§His venom sacks were removed by Professor Hobday and Hagrid,§ Harry returned with deadly steel. §You won't harm anyone in that form.§
Rage flashed in Oorjit's eyes. §This is not over!§
Mournfully, Harry replied. §Yes, I'm afraid it is. Kill the snake-bird.§
As Oorjit died, Voldemort was at last made mortal. The magic had done as he commanded and Harry summoned his friend toward him. He conjured a blanket, emerald green, and wrapped the battered occamy with it. Bereft, Harry felt the loss of his snarky protector and loyal friend. It hit him as hard as when Serion died.
Three were dead in the pursuit of ending Voldemort's reign of terror. All of them heroes because the grasp of the Dark Lord would never reach them as they were. Snakes would have been glorified. Serion--Oorjit had chosen to die to protect him. Myrtle faced her fear of life and of death to protect him. Who would remember them?
Harry looked out at the chamber. Rocks, rubbles, and glass lay everywhere. Desolate, alone, and grieving Harry wondered not for the first time how to go on and decided he would be the one to remember them. As their king, as their champion, but most of all as their friend. The basilisk in Harry could let them go to the great grasses in peace knowing full well that death was the natural course in life. For Harry he could let them go in peace knowing he would soon be avenging them.
º«««º»»»ºEnd Chapter 45º«««º»»»º