Chapter 41: Dark Lord In A Bottle

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Chapter 41: Dark Lord In A Bottle

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Hogwarts School of 

Johnathan Grey

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After a quiet goodbye to Unicorn-Roach, I dismounted and watched as the ethereal creature disappeared back into the Forest. With Professor Quirrell still bound and unconscious, levitating behind me, and Tom firmly clasped under my arm, I turned and made my way back to the castle. Taking the map out of the [Hoard], I confirmed McGonagall was in her chambers and started making my way there, casually whistling to myself on the way.

~These healing hands of mine~

~I'm gonna let it shine~

~These healing hands of mine~

Once at McGonagall's door, I gave it a firm few knocks and stood back, waiting for a response. But after a few seconds, there was no sound of movement from inside, and I could sense that she hadn't moved from her previous position. So, utilising my enhanced strength, I knocked again, harder this time. It made a loud enough sound that would make most people think I was related to Hagrid.

Finally, I felt her move, shuffling about, likely getting herself presentable enough to talk. Moments later, the door opened slowly, and Professor McGonagall showed herself. She was dressed in a long, tartan nightgown with green and black patterns. Over it, she had hastily thrown a dark dressing gown. Her spectacles, perched low on her nose, didn't hide the crease of annoyance plastered across her features, though her expression quickly shifted back to her usual composed one. 

Her lips pressed together in a thin line, as if she were already mentally preparing herself for whatever news had interrupted her sleep. Seeing me smiling as I stood there in front of an unconscious floating Professor Quirrell, she let out a long, resigned sigh. Sluggishly rubbing her temple, she muttered, "Not again."

"Good evening, Professor," I greeted cheerfully, ignoring her words as I went back and forth from heel to tiptoe. "Apologies for waking you."

"Mr. Grey," McGonagall said through her exhaustion. "What have you gotten involved in this time? Because if you tell me you have taken to harming fellow Professors, I will happily discipline you myself."

Grumpy. 

"I'm afraid there's been an incident." I stepped aside slightly, levitating Quirrell's unconscious form forward to give her a better view as I presented the bottle containing Voldemort's soul.

"I can see that, Mr. Grey," She snarked with a dull expression.

Ignoring her, I continued. "I found Professor Quirrell in the Forbidden Forest, trying to kill a Unicorn. He didn't seem to be in his right mind, so I removed the individual that was possessing him and placed him in this bottle." I indicated to the bottle with the black misty soul I was holding toward her. "But I thought you and Professor Dumbledore might want to deal with it."

"You…" McGonagall's expression shifted between several emotions as I spoke before ending on one of sharp focus. "...What?" She said in disbelief. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on Quirrell's bound form and the bottle in my hands, and her lips pressed into a thin line.

"To the Headmaster's office, Mr. Grey," she said curtly, stepping out as she retrieved and wore a night hat that seemed to be hung behind her door to cover her tousled hair. Closing the door behind her, she gestured for me to follow. "And bring them with you."

I simply nodded and followed behind her, floating Quirrell behind us as McGonagall led the way. She couldn't help but mutter to herself as her slippers rhythmically tapped the floor while she moved, "I swear, if this is anything like Pettigrew, I'll need a stronger drink and swear off tea in its entirety..."

I was a little surprised she didn't try to wake Quirrell and ask what was going on, but I suppose she either learned to trust me after everything that had happened with Sirius, or she was already prepared by the information she gets from Dumbledore about Quirrell's behaviour.

With a quick, deliberate flick of her wand, the familiar feel of magic surged through her and into her wand as McGonagall murmured the incantation: "Expecto Patronum."

The silvery light of her [Patronus] burst from her wand tip, coalescing into an ethereal cat. The spectral creature didn't even have time to stand tall and proud before McGonagall commanded, "Go to Professor Dumbledore. Tell him it concerns Quirrell."

The fact that a strict person like her didn't even bother calling the man by his title felt like she was insulting him. But I couldn't tell if it was because he was taken down by a student or because she just didn't respect him as a teacher. Thinking back at all the complaints I would hear some other students made about not being able to learn much in his class. I was starting to think it had more to do with his non-existent academic skills.

The silver tabby gave a soft, ethereal nod before turning to speed down the hallway, disappearing into the wall at the end of the corridor we were walking down.

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Headmaster's Office

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The stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmaster's office was already shifted aside when we reached the entrance, allowing us easy access to the spiral staircase without th password. With how often I see him up late, I wouldn't be surprised to find that Dumbledore never went to bed to begin with.

We made our way up the staircase in no time, and as we reached the top, we found Professor Dumbledore half-sitting on the edge of his desk, already waiting for us. He was dressed in a deep purple wizard's nightgown under a simple but elegant velvet dressing gown, embroidered with faint gold stars. The magic I could feel from where I was standing indicated they were Enchanted to be self-cleaning and always ironed. Say what you want about the old man, but Dumbledore's got style.

The man's blue—though somewhat tired eyes—analysed us as we walked through the door with the familiar twinkle in his eyes beneath his half-moon spectacles, though there was an unmistakable seriousness beneath his casual expression.

"Good evening, Minerva, Johnathan," Dumbledore greeted with a tired smile. His gaze lingered on the unconscious Professor trailing behind us and the bottle I was holding under my arm as we entered. "I see you may have found an unconscious Professor lying around somewhere."

I let out a snort as a smirk made its way to my face, only to immediately feel McGonagall's sharp gaze burning into the side of my face. Quickly shifting my attention away, I started truly admiring the various magical trinkets and gadgets cluttering Dumbledore's office. It did little to reduce the intensity of McGonagall's glare, but what can you do?

Grumpy-grumpy.

"Now, now, no need for glares, Minerva," Dumbledore chuckled softly. "I suspect Mr. Grey has had quite the night. I trust we would not be awake at such an hour if it were not urgent?"

McGonagall, still clearly not amused, simply folded her arms and raised an eyebrow as she spoke in a clipped tone. "It seems, as usual, Mr. Grey has much to explain."

Dumbledore straightened up and gestured for us to sit. His demeanour became more serious as he took another glance at Quirrell's floating, unconscious body before focusing on me. "Please, Jonathan, why don't you start from the beginning?"

Just as I was about to begin my explanation, the door opened without even a knock, and in walked Professor Snape. His shoulder-length hair was slightly tousled, with dark strands falling messily over his pale face. Unlike the other professors who were wearing colourful nightwear, Snape was dressed in basic black attire, but his buttons were fastened unevenly, and his collar lay slightly askew. 

Snape's annoyed and calculating eyes flicked around the room, lingering on Quirrell before moving to the bottle in my hand and narrowing, his thin lips pressed together in a tight line of clear irritation. He then raised an eyebrow, shifting his gaze to look me in the eye, possibly from instinct, having needed to get information for two old men on their organisations over the period of a civil war. Though, I didn't feel a probe, so I could just have been reading too much into it.

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore greeted. "I see you've arrived just in time."

"It seems I have." Snape inclined his head slightly, acknowledging Dumbledore's greeting. His dark robes billowed slightly around him while he strode into the room, keeping his eyes on me as he spoke. "Though I must say, I wasn't expecting this. You were rather vague in your summons."

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded, turning his attention back to me. "It seems Mr Grey has had quite an eventful night. Please, Severus, do stay. I believe Johnathan is about to explain what happened to our dear Defence Against The Dark Arts Professor."

Still, not a single person had made a move to revive the unconscious man.

Sad.

Snape moved quietly to stand just off to the side, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for the explanation with a faint sneer curling at the corner of his mouth. I noticed that his wand was out, skilfully hidden between the folds of his robes. Though not pointed at me, Dumbledore and McGonagall also had their wands in their hands, ready to use at any moment.

"Mr. Grey," McGonagall prompted. "You may begin."

I nodded before starting to recount what happened. "Well, I heard there was a break-in at Gringotts…"

That immediately got some confused looks from the Professors, but as I went on to tell them about when Tracey mentioned an announcement in the great hall to stay away from the Forbidden Forrest and the possibility that it could be linked to the break-in, the confused looks turned to anger from McGonagall and resigned annoyance from Dumbledore and Snape.

Ignoring the cat Animagus, I then went on to recount what I saw Quirrell doing, healing the Unicorn, feeling that Quirrell was being possessed by someone and trying to restrain him. Only to have whoever was possessing him trying to possess me.

"...so I decided to put him, who I now know is Tom Marvolo Riddle, in this bottle. I let hitched a ride from the Unicorn, who I may have named Roach in my head, and went to Professor McGonagall." I concluded, lifting the bottle in front of me for them to see the black wraith constantly screaming and trying to claw his way out, to no avail.

The room fell into a stunned silence. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape all stared at the small, enchanted bottle. The sight of the Dark Lord's soul, imprisoned in such a mundane object, left the three professors in disbelief. Snape and McGonagall were yet to close their mouths since I presented and explained what it really was.

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes as he stared at the bottle, the twinkle in his eyes now gone. I could feel his magic expand to verify the contents of the bottle and confirm my claim. Once Snape felt Dumbledore's magic move, he started doing the same. After a few seconds of gawking, Dumbledore broke the silence first, with his eyes still fixated on the Enchanted bottle. "Johnathan… did you say you put Tom's soul… in a bottle?"

"Yeah," I nonchalantly shrugged. "It's Enchanted, though. I did it while Tom was trying to possess my body. Terrible company, by the way."

Dumbledore's eyes flickered with more disbelief. Slowly, he tore his gaze away from the bottle and turned to look at me. He stared at me searchingly for a long moment, perhaps for any sign of vulnerability or hidden damage, but I didn't even flinch. I could see McGonagall tense beside me in the corner of my eye at the mention of Voldemort's attempt at my possession. Her eyes darted between the headmaster and I, clearly waiting for an explanation.

I could feel the magic in Snape start to prime, followed by McGonagall's when she didn't get a response from the headmaster regarding my state. Finally, after a long few seconds of Dumbledore using his magic to check if Tom's magic was mixed with my own, he spoke in a more measured tone. "And you're certain… that Tom was unable to succeed in any of his plans to take your body?"

Snape subtly leaned forward just a fraction, but he wasn't waiting for a verbal answer. His magic went on to do the same as what Dumbledore's did, searching for any influence of Tom's magic on my body. A part of me wanted to point out that they should have done that to Quirrel and sorted the problem out much earlier in the year, but I checked the Turban he was wearing. I was Enchanted enough to mask the sensation, not completely, but enough to only let someone know there was something wrong with a persons magic but not quite what it is.

A person with my sensing capabilities would be able to easily figure it out, but that was my [Essence] at work.

Hearing the old man's question, I hardened my expression and met Dumbledore's gaze without hesitation. "My mind is mine," I said firmly, but the magic now coursing through my veins carried the sound to the entire room, making it so that everyone in the room would hear it like I was standing right next to them. "And mine alone."

The more I spoke, the more my magic reacted to my anger at the audacity of the snake, causing my eyes to gain a slight glow."It is part of the Hoard," I continued. "And to take from the Hoard, without permission, is a personal declaration of war."

It may have sounded childish if any other child had said those words, but the fact that my magic was now flooding the room at the mere thought of a minor Dark Lord trying to violate my mind was enough to force the room to take me seriously, breaking through the tension in the room. Dumbledore studied me for a few more seconds, or more specifically, my magic, most likely measuring the similarity to what he felt during our duels. Finally, the headmaster gave a slow nod, the usual twinkle returning to his eyes.

See this, I resigned my magic in, noticing that even the previously sleeping portraits were now fully awake and watching the exchange. 

"That is reassuring to hear, my boy," Dumbledore said with a calmer expression, allowing McGonagall and Snape to relax. "But I fear this development with Tom's soul is a grave one, nonetheless. Did you by any chance get any information from the… individual you placed in the bottle?"

"Oh, that he's also Voldemort?" That answer had them blinking at my casual demeanour. "Yeah, he threatened to kill my parents…and a whole lot of other people that I hold dear." I shrugged. "But as the saying goes, 'A dragon does not bow to a snake'."

McGonagall let out a slow, resigned breath as some of the tension left her shoulders. "Did you, by any chance, make that saying just now, Mr. Grey?"

I looked at a particularly fascinating gizmo lying on one of Dumbledore's shelves as I muttered. "Don't worry about that professor."

"Johnathan," Dumbledore's probing voice brought my attention back to the matter at hand. "Is it safe for others to handle this… without disturbing the enchantments?"

"The enchantment's linked to the magic of the person contained in it and the magic around it, so yeah," I explained as I gave the man a small nod. "As long as no one tries to destroy it from the outside, it'll be fine. It's stable. Also, it's Enchanted to make sure the person inside can't perceive the outside world, so as long as it's not tampered with, we're good there too."

Dumbledore seemed to mull this over before carefully extending a hand. "May I?"

I handed the bottle over, watching as Dumbledore took it with the utmost care. "All you'd need to do," I added, "is open the lid when you're near Dementors. They'll take care of the rest."

No one made a comment on the fact that I just told them to kill him, which was good. I didn't want to have that conversation with these people. Dumbledore held the bottle delicately, as though it might shatter at any moment, his eyes critically examining the swirling darkness within it. After a brief pause, he slowly placed it down on his desk.

"You've done more than enough for tonight, John." Dumbledore straightened up as he spoke. "Though I would have to take, say, two hundred points from Ravenclaw for your…expedition into a forbidden location. I will give you, say, three hundred points for getting Professor Quirrell back to us. However, any further conversation on tonight's events should be continued once we are all well-rested. You should get to bed. Leave the rest to us. We will ensure that this is dealt with and contact you if necessary."

"Alright, Professor," I replied, making my way to my feet as I gave the man a slight nod. "Goodnight, everyone." I glanced at McGonagall and Snape before turning to leave, noting Snape was giving me a weirder look than usual, not even bothering to hide it with [Occlumency].

"Goodnight, Mr Grey," McGonagall responded with a small, even more tired than before, smile.

"Oh, and Johnathan?" Dumbledore's voice had me pause as I reached the door. "you seem to have forgotten something… or rather, someone."

I turned back, furrowing my brow in mild confusion. Seeing Dumbledore gesture toward the floating Quirrell still following behind me, I chuckled a little, blinking my forgetfulness away. I was too focused on the system and finding out what I got for capturing Voldemort. "Oh, right. Sorry about that."

Without bothering to take out my wand, I carefully lowered Quirrell to the floor off to the side where Dumbledore was pointing, following Dumbledore's silent instruction. 

"Thank you, Johnathan."

I gave the man a grin in return. "No problem, Professor. 'Night."

With that, I turned and exited the office, finally looking at the points I gained on my way to bed.

[Defeat Tom Riddle (Wraith) in combat +5,000 SP]

Nice.

[Place Tom Riddle's soul in a Bottle +50,000 SP]

Why the fuck is that even a thing? I'm not turning it down, but… goddamn!

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"Voldemort Is My Past, Present, And Future."

—Tom Marvolo Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort

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Autor Here

Any guesses what Dumbledore will do with the soul? I'm curious.

(No, I won't tell you if you're right, that would be a spoiler.)

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