Ch. 147

Harry followed the corridors until he reached the broken stairwell. Stepping through the illusion, he was surprised to hear sounds of battle coming from the chamber ahead. A wave of his wand snuffed out the torches around him, plunging him into complete darkness. Carefully, he made his way through the corridor, hidden by the shadows. An explosion rattled the foundations of the ruins, followed by a pained groan. By now, Harry had reached the end, and was pressing his back against the corridor wall to remain hidden.

He suppressed a gasp of surprise when Dumbledore crashed to the ground, bleeding and unable to get back up. The old headmaster didn't see him, knocked unconscious as the dark wizard approached him almost casually. Dumbledore's wand lay across the room, smoke wafting from its tip, and far out of his reach. Harry swore under his breath. As much as he hated giving up the element of surprise, as much as he hated Dumbledore being there, he couldn't let the old man die.

"Better make this one count, Harry," he muttered to himself as he leveled his ivory wand at Voldemort's approaching figure. Before he had a chance to even begin casting the spell, he suddenly found Voldemort looking straight at him.

"I know you're there, Potter. Come on out, or the old man dies right here." Voldemort sounded almost amused as Dumbledore's eyes fluttered open.

Cursing himself for not realizing that Voldemort had somehow detected him, Harry lifted his hands, still holding on to his wand, as he stepped out into the chamber. Ginny was right, he thought to himself. Tonks is the only one who- As he walked into the open, he noticed the dead bodies of three Death Eaters on the ground. The once-pristine room was pockmarked with craters and charred where the Voldemort and Dumbledore had dueled.

"So," Harry finally said after a long pause. "Here we are again, Tom."

"So we are, Harry," Voldemort replied with a smirk.

"Now what?" Harry asked. "I assume that you're just going to kill us all, get your hands on the Rod, and take over the world."

"That's about right," the dark wizard confirmed, "but there are a few things I wanted to indulge in, first."

Harry shrugged, glancing over at the Rod. "Look, Tom, there's a little problem with your plan. I know you had a traitor among us, and I know that she brought you the texts we were studying to break the Rod out of the wards surrounding it."

"Go on," Voldemort nodded, his interest piqued.

"Well, the Rod doesn't exist in this dimension," Harry told him.

Voldemort snorted in amusement. "What are you talking about, of course it exists! You're looking right at it!" The dark wizard eyed Harry suspiciously. "My minions didn't hit you too hard upside the head, did they? You're not hallucinating, are you?"

Harry blinked in surprise at the comment. Concern was the last thing he'd expected from Voldemort, and it had even sounded genuine - what was the world coming to? "Err… no, they didn't hit me. In fact, I reckon they're about to get their asses kicked right now."

"Hmm… oh well." Voldemort shrugged nonchalantly. "Good to hear you're still in one piece, though."

"Oh, because you wanted the pleasure of killing me personally?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Almost, Harry." Voldemort grinned toothily. "You see, when I first rose, the only wizard I was afraid of was Albus Dumbledore. He was acclaimed as the greatest wizard of all time. I admit it, I feared him. Respected him even. And when I returned… I found a new foe. A new archenemy, if you will. You, Harry Potter, have galvanized me, ruined my plans, and fought me on more occasions than even Albus Dumbledore, and you, you alone, have had more success in doing so than he ever had." Voldemort spread his arms, gesturing all around him. "I realize now that almost dying when I tried to kill you has been a blessing. Because of it, I've become stronger, more powerful. Much more powerful. And when I fought Dumbledore again two days ago, I realized something: I had become so powerful that Albus Dumbledore is nothing. The one wizard, the greatest of all time, and he was nothing before my might."

"Get to the point, Tom," Harry snapped irritably. He'd been looking for an opportunity to fire off a spell at Voldemort while he was talking, but the dark wizard was always on guard.

"The point is, Harry Potter, that you have taken the place of Albus Dumbledore as my greatest enemy!" Voldemort announced grandly. "You are the only one with the potential to become as powerful as I am, and in the short time you've had, you've grown to be able to fight me on even ground. In fact, because you have grown so powerful in such a short time, one might even argue that you will become more powerful than me. Before I acquire the Rod of Dominion, before I continue to move on with my conquest of the wizarding world… I will fight and defeat you. I will finally put to rest my most worthy foe - you."

"What?" Harry blinked in confusion. "You… you want to duel me? Like, man to man?"

"Correct." Voldemort grinned. "If I can indeed overcome you, then the rest of the world will be within my grasp."

Harry began to wonder if Voldemort hadn't been hit on the head too hard at some point, because this man was different from the evil maniac mastermind he'd come to know. "What brought all of this on?" he asked finally, unable to understand why Voldemort would be asking him for a duel. Why not simply take the Rod and blast all of existence to hell? He looked around the room for anything that could be used as a distraction, and his gaze fell on the three dead Death Eaters. Now that he looked at them closer, he realized that they didn't look like they had been killed by spells. A huge puddle of blood was forming around them. It made Harry wonder what had killed them.

"Curious about that, too?" Voldemort asked, noticing the direction of Harry's gaze. "I can answer both in one, I believe."

"Oh yeah?"

"Let me ask you this, Harry… what is conflict without an opponent? What point is there in war if there is no one to be fought?" the dark wizard didn't wait for Harry to answer. "Simple, there is none. I fight this war for the extermination of all those who are unworthy. You have been my greatest opponent, Harry Potter, but once I hold the Rod of Dominion in my hands, even that will be no more. For the last time, I will fight you, before I kill you and move on. As for them," Voldemort pointed at the three dead men, "the Rod holds inconceivable power, as do its protections. Why share the secret with those who are unworthy of it?"

Harry realized Voldemort truly was crazy. The dark wizard knew next to nothing about the Rod of Dominion, except for the fact that it was capable of killing him, and apparently was dangerous enough to be forever sealed away. He had somehow gotten the notion that with the Rod, he would be above all opposition - and Harry reluctantly admitted that he may be right. The Rod was a Deus Ex Machina, something so ludicrously powerful that it had to be lost to all time, because its power would corrupt even the purest of saints. And before he got his hands on it, Voldemort wanted to duel him, duel someone he thought worthy, for nostalgia's sake.

The dark wizard's final comment also made Harry realize something else: Voldemort would never stop killing. The power at his fingertips was too compelling, too seductive. He may have set out to purge the world from muggles and mudbloods, but in the end, the darkness within would never let him stop killing, even if it meant turning on his former followers. He probably was rooting for his army to get decimated, Harry thought grimly. The only thing that would appease Voldemort was bloodshed… no matter whose blood it was.

"I see…" Harry said, slowly lowering his wand arm until it was resting by his side.

"I doubt you do," Voldemort laughed. "But maybe you will indulge me anyway."

Harry brought his wand up, holding it close to his right ear as he extended his left arm forward. His weight was shifted onto his back foot as he spread his legs shoulder-width apart. "I don't think I have any choice, do I?"

Voldemort eyed the teen with some amusement, recognizing the dueling stance as one of Bella's favorites. "No, you don't," he replied as he slid into a stance of his own. "I am told you have a warlock rune. I look forward to seeing what you can do."

Harry's eyes narrowed. It appeared that the spy had informed Voldemort of far more than the Rod's location. Fine, he wants to see what I can do? Time to dig real deep, then, Harry thought to himself. Twirling the wand through his hand to distract Voldemort from the spell he was casting, Harry fired off two blasting hexes in quick succession. The Dark lord ducked under the first, then simple batted the second one away with a negligent flick of his wand.

"Is that all you can do, Harry? You did so much better when we fought in Southhallerton. Malum Ictis !" The jet-black spear of magic hurled towards Harry, forcing him to dive to the side. As he tumbled to the ground, he returned fire.

Three stunners impacted Voldemort's shields as the dark wizard raised a shimmering golden barrier around him with little more than a flick of his wrist. He let Harry rise back to his feet, smirking in amusement. "Like it? It's an archmage-level shield spell," Voldemort explained. "In fact, it's the only archmage-grade shield spell. Do you know why?"

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