Chapter 32: The Battle at Crouch's Manor Part 2

A mindscape was a peculiar place for a fight. Here, the advantage in willpower and conjured imagery mattered at least as much as magical power. A vision that would drive someone insane might only bring a laugh out of another.

I counted on intelligently applying pressure to Albus's weak spots. He would see the looping scene of Ariana's death I pulled out of his brother's memories while I stand aside invisible and watch him go insane. And when he has finally lost the will to live, I would appear behind his back and stab him with a knife.

As always, the reality didn't meet my expectations. The old man stood in the image of his family home but was not seeing the nightmare!

The thought to try to finesse the stabbing right away left me as quickly as it came. I was afraid: even on his deathbed, Albus would be completely capable of taking his killer with him.

I couldn't come near him and became visible against my will. The killing curse I tried to cast at him did not come out.

He was smiling.

"Tom? Interesting… You… Here," he stammered, overcoming the mental pressure and hallucinations. "Don't bother trying. You wanted to leave me defenseless.. Now neither of us can attack."

It was again back to improvising… I grinned back at him and demonstratively threw away my wand and ritual dagger. When the clacking stopped, I replied:

"I am not an idiot, Dumbledore. There is not a person alive capable of defeating you. Not with your Elder Wand."

"I don't need a wand, Tom."

I inched towards him along the wall. All I could do was search for the weakest point under the guise of persuading him. He must have been doing the same. In the meantime, it would be best to distract or rattle him… And turn up the drama so he wouldn't notice the Lord had changed. After all, it was classic: the "bad guy" lays out his plans and lures to his side…

"Yet you still carry your weapon as a servant when you could be king."

"It has never been my desire."

"Right…" I remained silent for a moment, stepping around the room in an attempt to sense his thoughts. "So devoted and full of self-depreciation… You haven't changed at all. How regretful that your father had no time to raise you differently. You could have achieved so much more."

"I already have everything I need."

"Your growth had been stunted. You were cut off from ambitions at far too young an age."

"Don't try to distract me, Tom. And don't provoke me. You will not be able to attack. And when we return, there be one less Dark Lord in the world."

Still smiling, I slowly walked towards him. What was he planning, really?

"I want to open your eyes to the brilliant prospects of our cooperation," I said. "I propose we change the world. I am sure that together we can achieve anything, even bring back your family. I revived Ariana's body. Together, we can return her soul. We should also discuss the terms of your brother's release."

"Why do you need all this power, Tom? You don't love anyone, you have no one to bring back. What is the point of all the Dark Magic, rituals, sacrifices? What were you missing? A throne? You could have easily become the Minister of Magic, then manipulated your constituents to declare you the king or whatever it is you want to be. Why all the murders? No, you are insane, and that's the end of it. I am very, very sorry, but nothing can be done."

"And whose fault is it? Nature or environment? Is it my heritage? Then you are wrong in your claim that people create their own destiny. Environment? Then you too are responsible for what is happening," that's right, I'm not evil. Life has forced my hand. "We are all insane to some degree, in our own special ways. Honestly, only a madman or a sloth would waste the perfect starting conditions we've been given. It is only natural to use our magic and longevity to gain a little more and rise above others. In me this quality merely developed to the maximum, that's all. And you, Albus? You are a collective caricature of wizards in your dogma of non-interference. Thousands of years ago, wizards were flying on brooms, traveling in time and creating expanded spaces while muggles were barely above animals, fought with sticks, picked each other's fleas and lived in hovels. Now muggles fly in planes and explore space, but we still fly on brooms! We are stagnating, and you tout non-interference! From this perspective, what I've done is meaningless. Albus, why does it matter how many people die? Once we discover the secrets of magic, we will be able to resurrect anyone and everyone. Imagine a world without death, a world where people are gods… And you and I will simply be little above the rest."

"First of all, it's impossible. Second, even if you achieved it, what would be the punishments in your world? A million years of Cruciatus? All prehistoric humans feeding Dementors? Or you would be the one deciding who lives and for how long?"

"Come with me, Albus, and we will decide together. Sometimes, goals demand a steep price. Take a look at your own actions. You called everyone you had into battle. Many of them have families and children. The differences between us are minuscule."

"No, Tom. There is one step between us, but it is a step through a brick wall. I never kill unless there is no other way. We are fundamentally different. Means are just as important as goals because you must live with what you've done. Insane or not, you have gone too far. If you had a shred of humanity in you, you would have stopped. Flamel was always wiser than both of us: he excluded himself from this pointless game of power-grabbing. How many more decades do you need to finally grow up?"

"You know very well I am capable of things others don't dare dream of," I answered. "If you have an impossible wish, you need only say it, and I'll show you how wrong you were about me. I have learned to do things beyond your wildest imagination. I'm certain I can bring back your sister's soul. Don't fool yourself, old man: everyone has a price. Only not everyone measures it in money."

Albus gave me another one of his trademark charming smiles.

"You chose the wrong method," he said. "I can achieve anything I want myself."

"Was that the reason why you stood before the Mirror of Erised and saw your family? How much time did you spend staring in it? Minutes, hours, days, weeks? Years? I can truly bring them back! Not as a moving pictures, not as necromantic abominations!" I roared and stopped abruptly. Wait, what if I really could? The Resurrection Stone must serve some function. What if Flamel knew how to use it? A ritual of some sort? Maybe try testing it during Solstice… "The Mirror gives everyone a phantom of their dream. I am talking about reality! Magic! Power! Immortality! Knowledge! Not daydreams!"

"If I wanted more than I already have, I'd know exactly what to do. As you can see, I have yet to do anything," he said.

A hint at the Hallows? Tom would only be interested in the wand. But I'd find a use for them. I had the stone, Albus had the wand. If I found the cloak, maybe I would catch the old fool with his pants down.

"Have yet to do anything? Then who preserved Ariana's body? You wanted to resurrect her, but you lacked the knowledge, skill and bravery!" I laughed with Riddle's mad cackle. Might as well play the part all the way… "You were too afraid to take a risk! It almost seems like I am a brave Gryffindor, and you are a slippery Slytherin who is too afraid to get his hands dirty!"

I laughed again and moved forward. I've already tested over a third of space in the room.

"You are an utter fool to willingly wear these shackles! But if you have no desire to possess or rule, what would you say to knowledge? I have grasped the wisdom of True Magic, mastered every facet of the Dark Arts. I have gone far beyond that and paid a heavy price for divining the essence of the Universe. And you can receive this knowledge for free!"

"Everything has a price. I refuse to pay this one."

I only shook my head at him. Suddenly, the image of the house vacillated, as if a cloud momentarily passed over the moon. Everything darkened, then returned to its previous realism. The old man just made a forceful attempt to escape. And failed.

"Yes, you are speaking your mind," I continued, pretending not to notice the eclipse. He was strong. I couldn't even sense his thoughts, much less access them. It felt like speaking to a suit of armor. "Albus, you're too good of a person to waste yourself on this mess of a world, to defend what is doomed to fail. Know this: I will win. I will replace the old world order with something new. I will finish what you and Grindelwald began, and your support would mean a lot. I want to create a world where magical and muggle societies intertwine. There, you can find yourself work to your taste: eat lemon drops surrounded by family and friends, teach students, research new magical phenomena, command billions of muggles and wizards, lead the most powerful nation the universe has ever seen. You-"

"If your world will be as perfect as you say, Tom, then why does it need a ruler? And if it merely reflects the mind of its creator, I think it'll be much worse than our current reality. I appreciate your generous offer, but I serve the world that exists here and now."

"You are a fool, Albus! I understand that you have good intentions, but you are an absolute fool!"

"Perhaps you want to tell me something about concentration camps and power next?" The skepticism in his voice was unbearable.

"No. I will not repeat the mistakes of my predecessors. All Dark Lords failed for one reason: they were predators. They killed, obsessed with sacrifices to gain power. They loathed the weak yet could not survive without them. They killed the unworthy and eventually ran out of people to sacrifice. If any of them followed their path to the end, the result would've been the same every time: a single super-wizard in the void. But I will become the perfect symbiote. Every day, millions of cattle are killed, endless trees are cut, muggles kill one another. We will sell them weapons and instruments with a small brand logo in the shape of runes for gathering sacrificial energy. And the receiver can sit in the Department of Mysteries… Of course, the efficiency of such a flawed ritual would be barely above zero, but these tiny drops will gather into rivers of energy. And with it, we can change the world! The muggles won't notice anything, we will merely be collecting leftovers…"

"Tom, you've completely lost your mind. Every fallen soldier will be replaced by a new one! Sooner or later the entire world will unite against you!"

"Is that so? I don't need to kill muggles or muggleborns. They are afraid to speak my name! Kill dozens, and you are declared a deranged murderer. Kill millions, and you receive an international coalition. But I do not wage war with golems. Fear is my sword, anonymity is my shield-"

"I've seen many maniacs in my life, but you break through the rock bottom time and time again," Albus interrupted.

"I am aware of the negative effects of Dark Magic on the mind. I can measure them. I assure you, Albus, I'm completely sane."

With a force of my will, the air between us lit up with the schematics of measuring "necroenergy" from Dark spells.

"I assure you, Albus, it is possible to practice the Dark Arts and remain true to yourself. Come with me, and I will show you the safe way to use Dark Magic, to keep your soul clean."

To be honest, that one was an outright lie. I knew of no such way. But I was working on it, right?

"Impressive that you were able to rediscover it. This knowledge is extremely rare but not unique. It doesn't change anything. I am on the side of truth, not profit. And if you really are sane, it only increases the gravity of your crimes. I will not allow you to take away people's freedom."

"Listen, why haven't you just Avada'd me?" I couldn't help but finally ask. "You hit me twice. I'm sure landing a killing curse would not be too difficult for you. Are you too much of a coward to stain your soul?"

"I already told you, I don't wish you evil."

"Yet you are still prepared to fight and even kill me in punishment for my deeds?"

Albus nodded silently.

"Admit it, you're just afraid of me. Aren't you, Albus? Afraid to acknowledge that your actions created two Dark Lords in one century. You know that you made a bad first impression on me at the orphanage, that you shouldn't have invaded my mind… Yes, you really are afraid."

Albus did not reply.

"More than that, you are afraid to get blood on your hands," I continued. "I may be the scary Voldemort to everyone else, but to you I am still the lost little orphan Tom…"

"Do you not fear the blood you spill?"

"What's the point? None of them were immortal. This way, their otherwise useless lives served my goals. If you care so much about them, let us sit at a conference table and develop a resurrection ritual," I offered again.

I was really tempted to show him the Resurrection Stone. But it wouldn't make him any more cooperative, and I did not need to give him another reason to wish me death.

"In the past," I continued, remembering his speech to Horace, "I didn't understand why you believe some things are worse than death. Death doesn't terrify you- it is like putting out the light. You are afraid of losing yourself. Afraid to use Dark magic and change without realizing it… Albus, are you truly this selfish? Is defeating the horrible Voldemort not worth the soul of one old man?"

"You listen to my offer now. You release my brother an all the prisoners. Dissolve your organization. In return, I promise you a fair trial without the death sentence or the kiss. Every Death Eater gets a comfortable cell for life. And I will regularly visit you in Nurmengard. I can't promise you eternity - you will die the same day I do. If you truly are in your right mind, you must understand that this is the best solution."

I threw my head back and laughed.

"What a noble speech! You have always been noble, Albus! Almost a regular king! You make me feel ashamed next to your magnanimity! But I have one question: do you realize your own hypocrisy? You are against Dark Magic? Of course you don't need it, you easily win without it. Of course you are against the Killng Curse, it is the only thing that has a chance at killing you. Not everyone can topple an acromantula with a single Stupefy. You don't need power? Then what are you doing in one of the world's best wizarding schools, atop of the most powerful source in the Isles? Indeed, why would you care about magic sources, you already have the best one! You are not interested in power and knowledge? Then why do you have the Elder Wand? It doesn't jump into people's hands on its own. Who gave you the right to decide what books are kept in the Hogwarts library? Did you really destroy some? Given these conditions, even I can be a paragon of Light and virtue. You pretend to be benevolent but are not even trying to save your brother. And I wonder, just whose Avada killed Ariana?"

"Enough-" Albus began, but his voice was cut off.

Wonderful. However little, a burst of emotion should help me break through his defenses. I only just found a fault line ideal for influence. Nothing I said to him made the slightest sense. Regular meaningless banter. A distracting maneuver before the major attack. I used the time it gave me to partially reconfigure this little imaginary world. Now we were both watching the scene from Aberforth's memories, unable to interfere.

"Oh, Albus… What good are your skills if you can't even save the people you love most? Like I said, you are an idiot. But I sincerely wish you would accept my offer. Be a Hufflepuff: save your loved ones. Be a Ravenclaw: learn the secrets of Dark Magic. Be a Slytherin: gain power over hearts and minds. Be a Gryffindor: use your power to make a real difference. Death is the next great adventure? Then go kill yourself and get out of my way. If you would rather live, don't interfere with my work and join me."

"No. I refuse!" he shouted, and the world began to dissolve like morning fog. The scene of Ariana's death was blown away by a gust of wind.

"Maybe you will be more cooperative if you see my offer with your own eyes?"

The void swallowed us both. I tried my best to project happiness and care. Like helpless ghosts, Albus and I watched the scene I prepared: another version of Albus drinking tea on the porch of his house. He was surrounded by his happy family: mother, father, brother, sister…

"Do you really not want to bring them back?" I challenged.

"GET OUT!" he screamed, and I got blown away.

I activated the next illusion. This time, I was broadcasting the exhilaration of battle. We stood on a battlefield as disembodied spectators, watching another option of what could happen if Albus accepted my offer. Not a real future, just a movie I created…

Dumbledore was fighting against the Dark Lord and all his servants. Gone was the old man in a colorful dress- Albus now looked like a twenty year old athlete with massive muscles rippling under powerful armor. But it was his magic that changed the most. He was surrounded by an unnatural, sickly glow that writhed and twisted into malicious runes. Albus no longer belonged to this reality. He existed in every dimension at once, shimmering like a ghost, disappearing and reappearing in a haze.

"Perhaps you want to sacrifice yourself to stop me? With Dark Magic, the Elder Wand, rituals, and disregarding the presumption of innocence, you would restore order to Britain in a single day. And none of your people have to be harmed!"

Albus from the vision raised his hand at the Death Eaters. Their bodies lit up with alternating Light and Dark energies, then started releasing putrid gases like contracting bellows. Shadowy tentacles appeared out of nowhere and instantly ripped apart dozens of giants. Fiery explosions tore the ground here and there, destroying the inferi..

"Weak, Tom. Very weak," the real Albus said. "Although in a muggle film, you would've taken all the awards for special effects."

Albus waved his hand, and before us appeared a window into the real world.

"Look here, Tom," he pointed at Bellatrix fighting on Crouch's doorstep. "Dark magic is not a solution, it is the problem itself. These are not the mighty warriors of antiquity. They are not teams who trained and lived together, who gave vows to serve and protect, who fought dragons and sea serpents or stopped the onslaught of demons at the Departnent of Mysteries with their own bodies. They don't care who they target, they only crave violence. They are not warriors but demons and vultures, laughing and throwing killing curses without taking the time to aim. Instead of armored helmets with open faces, you have chosen intimidating masks of death. You've become a plague, and it is my duty to stop it."

I felt a mental attack. The vision dissolved, but I had another one ready.

I tried to convey the feelings of curiosity and joy of knowledge. We were at Hogwarts. Dumbledore sat at a desk covered with stacks of books and was writing something on a piece of parchment. But the books were not on transfiguration. Possessing any one of them would earn the kiss.

"Albus, I am offering you the full knowledge-"

"Leave it for yourself!" Albus answered, and the vision disappeared again. I moved on to the next one.

I projected attention and admiration. We were standing in front of a crowd hailing Albus for his victory in battle. The enemy forces -for the greater good- had been turned into a graveyard of dead flesh and metal sprawling from horizon to horizon. Albus, indistinguishable from the real version, towered over his kneeling warriors.

"You are called the most powerful wizard of the modern era," I reminded. "Do you not want for it to last forever? We can extend your life indefinitely. And the mortals… We can guide them with either force or intrigue."

"Lord Dumbledore!" The crowd chanted. "Albus the White!"

No, not chanted. It was a prayer… They bowed, cried, and begged Albus to give them the tiniest scrap of his godly attention. It was-

"Wrong!" Albus growled. "I never tried to elevate myself or appear perfect in the eyes of others. It is you who are doomed and cursed. I never lived like this and never will. Get out!"

The vision changed again. I was giving him the feelings of power. Albus's double sat in the Minister's chair. Power viscerally flowed through his veins with every beat of the heart. It was much greater than the laughable powers of immortality or pleasure. It extended far beyond the Minister's chair. Thanks to Dark magic, Albus could see probabilities with laser-like precision. The silly commoners thought he didn't hear their whispers about his abilities. Let them praise him under their breath. He did not need open worship.

Albus reclined back in his chair, his thoughts diving into the abyss of infinite possibilities. Destinies unraveled in his hands like obedient strings of yarn. Every string led to a certain outcome, and they unfolded before his eyes as soon as he willed it. He wielded absolute power over the future itself…

"The future is not predetermined!" Albus said, and the vision rippled.

"Yes, I know it changes with our choices. But together, we will find a way to see probabilities. Look at the gifts of Dark magic!" I cried out furiously and desperately. "Look at the power I am offering! Don't waste your only chance!"

"Go to hell!"

I felt myself losing control over the visions. There was so much more in store for him, and I wasn'to ready yet… 'Well, here goes nothing,' I thought, transforming my body.

Albus made no attempt to dodge. He took the shape of a prickly red tumbleweed that tasted like butterbeer as it broke through my mental defenses. I reeled back from multiple punctures. It left me feeling exposed as an oyster whose shell was cracked at a dinner table.

Trying not to gag on the stench of my own mental wounds, I fixed my shields and rushed Albus again, stabbing skewers of mental energy into his red and gold phoenix form.

He screeched. The blast wave rattled the wooden benches and shattered the windows of Dumbledore's house. I pushed the spikes deeper and turned into a hedgehog with many more long needles. The phoenix sang and broke loose from my grip, breaking them. He soared into the sky.

I chased after him in the form of a winged creature somewhat resembling a rotting Horntail, but it could hardly be described in only four dimensions. The long, stringy whips I shot out in front of me caught up with Albus. They ripped through his hurriedly erected defenses and frayed the edges of his mind. In return, he showered me with scorching phoenix tears.

I turned into a ritual knife and stabbed the phoenix. The bird fell apart into ashes. Albus stood up from the pile in his human form.

He was shivering, bleeding from the nose and eyes. He flexed his mind to condense himself into a small golden dot, then unfolded it into a complex, continuously shifting geometric shape. The shape started to multiply and fill the space with exponentially increasing speed. Every one of them was thrumming the annoying phoenix song…

I tried to dodge, to find a path for retreat, but the shapes were everywhere. With a deafening crackling sound, an unknown power squeezed my little imaginary world. It felt like a unripe fruit being ripped from a branch. The strange shifting shapes reached over a hundred in number and pressed around my mind with the crushing force of dragon teeth.

I burned them, froze them, dissolved them in acid… But for every one I destroyed, many more were ready to replace it. They looked oddly familiar… I was recently analyzing British magical press, and one magazine, the Quibbler, had a similar looking puzzle… Back then, I paid it no mind: who knows what the editor was smoking?

Now, I was frantically thinking and transforming myself every second. Becoming fire and sand did not help. I tried turning into Ariana.

"Are you really going to kill me again? This time deliberately?" Zero effect.

I turned into an Obscurus. The black smoke slowed the figures down a bit, but they were crushing even this vapory flesh. There wouldn't be anything left of me once they come together. I saw no chances to win this. There was only one option: running… But I was unable to break away from the grip. Unable to seep through the gaps between them. Unable to return to my own body. Unable to disturb any meaningful part of the pattern… I tried fighting, I tried running. But I couldn't. Couldn't.

But all of a sudden, Albus disappeared. Freed from the oppressive force, I immediately canceled the pure mind form and rushed back into the real world. The thought that it might be a trap came too late. I reappeared next to Crouch's house, wand gripped tightly in my hand.

Everything turned much simpler. Our reserves had finally climbed to the surface through the enemy interference, and the Order was hopelessly losing. Twenty giant-sized golems were trashing them all. As if that was not enough, a new wave of inferi, acromantula and ragtag ordinary golems flooded the rest. The final blow to the enemy's resistance was Nessie. She threw most of her body on land and was crushing everything with the ease of a train plowing through a traffic jam.

With blood still dripping from his face, Dumbledore was fighting off the Carrows, Bellatrix and six more Death Eaters. It was one thing to face Albus in a duel and quite another to throw a couple of spells at defenseless fog. After all, that's how you become the owner of the Elder Wand! And so, Albus was forced to return to the real world to avoid dying.

Inspired by the turn of events, I attacked him. But he apparently was not as defeated as he looked. One flick of the Elder Wand sent six Death Eaters flying backwards, another blasted away my three demo-versions. I again ended up facing him alone… After my simultaneous Fiendfyre and Twilight Flame did nothing, I tried an Expelliarmus. Why not, what if it worked? But it was all futile.

He conjured something I dubbed an "apex Patronus." A blinding sun illuminated the battlefield. All Dementors and Antipatronuses vanished. Ball-size clusters of energy destroyed the majority of objects not protected by dragon blood. Nessie's head lit up with unquenchable fire, and she retreated back into the water. The pond boiled with strange whirlpools.

Albus was radiating something not Dark yet very lethal. I did not want to gamble on it being a trick and completely focused on defending. I could not move away: the charmed fire that had surrounded me earlier was not letting me through, as if it were solid.

For the first time in the entire fight, Albus was pronouncing the spell verbally. I struggled to understand his words. It was a medley of dead languages from which I recognized three: ancient Sumerian, Greek and Maya. His speech rhymed and resembled a prayer. I only gleaned a few bits of meaning: "I am," "cease to be," and the name "Tom Marvolo Riddle."

When he finished, his wand shot out a transparent drop the size of a snitch. It crossed the distance between us in a flash. Some of my shields vanished, the rest did not react at all. The drop touched my body and disappeared. And nothing happened!

Dumbledore momentarily faltered from the fight.

It must have been some pimped up spell, maybe even one of his own creation. But it didn't work. I did not believe the old man made a mistake. It seemed he needed the target's name. But he guessed wrong. Voldemort might have worked too, but he did not use it… I should change my safe password…

Did I get busted? Or would Albus blame it on some unknown Dark ritual or horcruxes? What if he hit me right in a horcrux under the robe?

A gleeful smile crept on my face on its own accord… Will everything really end here and now?

The old man raised his wand straight up and shot a reddish gold ray at the ward.

The ward could not be broken from the inside. But we did not take into account the Elder Wand and did not know its capabilities… Considering that the ward had been pounded with rays from the Ministry's second most powerful source in England and the entire DMLE, it must have already started to decay on the outside. And Albus added large cracks from within…

Maybe we should have continued fighting. But I had more than enough for the day: magical exhaustion was fast approaching, and I felt a bit wobbly from blood loss. It was hard to tell just when the Ministry would break through, and I had no more reserve forces. And Albus… he could escape by phoenix at any moment.

I gave the order to retreat. The ward had a blood-based backdoor for our people, and everyone brought personal portkeys as backup. Far away, Rosier began the ritual… All Death Eaters turned transparent before vanishing. Nessie disappeared in the same manner- the other side had to sacrifice an entire dead body of a Welsh Green dragon to transport her. The Obscurus and I shimmered last.

And the rest? Golems and corpses were dime a dozen. And acromantulas… We picked only the most violent males, and very few survived the fight.

Albus was holding me under some spell that was stopping me from leaving. It was far too early to expose my phoenix, so I followed the backup escape plan and activated runes I drew on Ariana's human body. As far as transgression blocking charms were concerned, Ariana was now me.

And so, I disappeared along with the Death Eaters, leaving behind only my army of puppets and the Obscurus.

For a short while, the Order's thinned numbers held back the abandoned remains of Voldemort's army. Then the ward dome crumbled, and the Ministry forces flooded the battlefield: every Auror and Hitwizard available backed by golems fueled from the Ministry.

The Obscurus resisted the longest. It killed two more people even after it was left completely alone, but waves of spells soon tore it apart. After a brief but furious fight, the previously winning army was annihilated. The manor's grounds continued filling with more and more people: mediwizards were treating the survivors, Unspeakables were prodding everything with antenna-shaped artifacts…

And two figures -an old man with bloodied beard decorated with bells and a one-legged invalid with a spinning eye- approached Voldemort's last location.

On the ground where the Dark Lord once stood were three earrings. Albus began casting diagnostic charms.

"Alastor, these are very strong delimiters," Albus said to his friend.

The only response he got was a storm of cussing.