Chapter Seventy Four - Phoenix Cage

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

Chapter Seventy Four - Phoenix Cage

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact," declared Riddle to those around him. "Such prompt appearances! And I ask myself - why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

No one spoke. No one moved except Pettigrew; who was upon the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm.

"And I answer myself," whispered Riddle, "they must have believed me broken - they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment...

"And then I ask myself; but, how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proof of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?

"And I answer myself; perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist; one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort - perhaps they now pay allegiance to another - perhaps that champion of commoners, of mudbloods and muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Riddle ignored them. "It is a disappointment to me - I confess myself disappointed..."

One of the morons suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Riddle's feet.

"Master!" he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

Riddle began to laugh. He raised his wand. "Crucio!"

The masked moron on the ground writhed and shrieked. Harry was sure the sound must carry to the houses around. 'Let the police come,' he thought, desperately. 'Anyone - anything...'

Riddle raised his wand. The tortured masked moron lay flat upon the ground, gasping.

"Get up, Avery," Riddle said softly. "Stand up! - You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years - I want thirteen years' repayment, before I forgive you. Wormtail, here, has paid some of his debt already; have you not, Wormtail?"

He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.

"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," moaned Wormtail, "Please, Master - please..."

"Yet you helped return me to my body," Riddle said coolly, watching Pettigrew sob on the ground. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me - and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers..."

Riddle raised his wand again and whirled it through the air. A streak of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wand's wake. Momentarily shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight; which soared downward and fixed itself upon Pettigrew's bleeding wrist.

Voldemort looked confused, for a moment. He held his wand in his hand before him and peered down at it, intently.

Pettigrew's sobbing stopped, abruptly. His breathing harsh and ragged, he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to his arm, as though he were wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed the shining fingers; then, trembling, picked up a small twig on the ground and crushed it into powder.

"My Lord," he whispered. "Master - it is beautiful - Thank you - thank you..." He scrambled forward on his knees and kissed the hem of Riddle's robes.

"May your loyalty never waver again, Pettigrew," sneered Riddle, down at the rat, coming back from his thoughts.

"No, my Lord - never, my Lord..." Pettigrew stood up and took his place in the circle, staring at his powerful new hand, his face still shining with tears.

Riddle now approached the man on Pettigrew's right.

"Lucius, my slippery friend," he whispered, halting before him. "I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius - Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay - but might not your energies have been better directed toward finding and aiding your master?"

"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," came Lucius Malfoy's voice swiftly from beneath the hood. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me..."

Harry could see movement around the outer edges of the graveyard. His eyes widened when he realised what it meant. The cavalry had arrived!

Thinking furiously, he looked at the masked form of Malfoy. He called, "Hey, Lucy! Is that you?"

All eyes, including Riddle's, turned to him.

"I thought you were still going with the 'I was Imperiused' claim!" said Harry.

"Never!" barked back Malfoy. "Those fools in the Wizengamot - especially, Dumbledore and Fudge..."

"And yet you ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?" asked Riddle lazily turning back with a smirk. Malfoy stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Lucius - You have disappointed me - I expect more faithful service in the future."

"Of course, my Lord, of course - You are merciful, thank you..."

"Awww! C'mon, Lucy!" snarked Harry. "Try it again. 'I was Imperiused!'"

"Shut up, you insolent whelp!" snarled Malfoy. "You cannot take my Lord's mark while under any form of compulsion. I took the mark of my Lord willingly! As did we all!"

Riddle moved on, amused at the by-play. He stopped, staring at the space - large enough for two people - that separated Malfoy and the next man.

"The Lestranges should stand here," said Riddle quietly. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me - When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honoured beyond their dreams.

"The dementors will join us - they are our natural allies - we will recall the banished giants - I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear..."

He walked on. Some of the masked morons he passed in silence; but, he paused before others and spoke to them. "MacNair - destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, MacNair. Lord Voldemort will provide..."

"Thank you, Master - thank you," murmured MacNair.

"And, here," Riddle moved on to the two largest hooded figures, "we have Crabbe - you will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?"

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.

"Yes, Master..."

"We will, Master..."

"Hey, it's Malfoy's butt-buddies!" exclaimed Harry. "Tell me, gents, do you arse-fuck Malfoy; like your sons do Malfoy Junior?"

"Why, you little shit!" growled Malfoy, raising his wand.

Riddle spun on him and raised his hand. Malfoy stopped, lowered his wand and bowed his head.

"Now, Lucius," smirked Riddle. "Mister Potter is our guest. He holds a place of honour - being as he was integral to my resurrection."

"Yes, my Lord," said Malfoy. "I - apologise, my Lord."

Riddle lowered his hand and turned back to the next masked moron in the circle. "The same goes for you, Nott," he said quietly, as he walked past a stooped figure in Goyle's shadow.

"My Lord, I prostrate myself before you; I am your most faithful..."

"That will do," said Riddle.

He had reached the largest gap of all, and he stood surveying it with his blank, red eyes, as though he could see people standing there. "And here we have six missing Death Eaters - three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return - he will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever - he will be killed, of course - and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already re-entered my service."

The masked morons stirred; and Harry saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks.

"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived here tonight...

"Yes," said Riddle; a grin curling his lipless mouth as the eyes of the circle flashed in Harry's direction. "Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honour."

There was a silence. Then Malfoy's voice spoke from under the mask. "Master, we crave to know - we beg you to tell us - how you have achieved this - this miracle - how you managed to return to us..."

"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius," said Riddle. "And it begins - and ends - with my young friend here."

He walked lazily over to stand next to Harry, so that the eyes of the whole circle were upon the two of them. The snake continued to circle.

"You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?" Riddle said softly, his red eyes upon Harry. "You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him - and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen - I could not touch the boy."

Riddle raised one of his long white fingers and put it very close to Harry's cheek. "His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice - This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it - But, no matter. I can touch him now."

Harry felt the cold tip of a long white finger touch him in the middle of his forehead. Riddle laughed softly in his ear, then took the finger away and continued addressing the masked morons.

"I miscalculated, my friends - I admit it. My curse was deflected by the woman's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself. Aaah - pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me for it.

"I was ripped from my body; I was less than spirit; less than the meanest ghost - But, still, I was alive. What I was, even I do not know - I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal - to conquer death. And now, I was tested.

"And it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked - For, I had not been killed, though the curse should have done it. Nevertheless, I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the means to help myself - for I had no body, and every spell that might have helped me required the use of a wand...

"I remember only forcing myself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist - I settled in a faraway place, in a forest, and I waited - Surely, one of my faithful Death Eaters would try and find me - one of them would come and perform the magic I could not, to restore me to a body - But, I waited in vain..."

The shiver ran once more around the circle of listening masked morons.

Riddle let the silence spiral horribly before continuing. "Only one power remained to me. I could possess the bodies of others. But, I dared not go where other humans were plentiful, for I knew that the Aurors were still abroad and searching for me."

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

As Riddle continued his monologue - of describing how he came to be resurrected - the family and friends of Harry, together with the aurors and called in Unspeakables, slowly moved into position.

Aunt Amelia and Uncle Algie huddled together not far from the site. Both, horrified by what they were seeing. Both, waiting for the opportune moment. Meanwhile, both taking careful note of what they were hearing.

That comment by Malfoy about how the Dark Mark could not be taken while under any form of compulsion, would see him and his - friends - incarcerated for the rest of their lives; if, he managed to live through this.

They listened on to what Riddle was relating to them all.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

"... A potion concocted from unicorn blood, and the snake venom Nagini provided - I was soon returned to an almost human form, and strong enough to travel," continued Riddle.

"There was no hope of stealing the Philosopher's Stone anymore, for I knew that Dumbledore would have seen to it that it was destroyed. But, I was willing to embrace mortal life again, before chasing immortality. I set my sights lower - I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength.

"I knew that to achieve this - it is an old piece of dark magic, the potion that revived me tonight - I would need three powerful ingredients. Well, one of them was already at hand, was it not, Wormtail? Flesh given by a servant?

"My father's bone, naturally, meant that we would have to come here, where he was buried..."

"So, you're finally admitting to your masked morons you're actually a half-blood, are you?" interrupted Harry. "Son of the muggle, Tom Riddle; from whom your birth name derives?"

Riddle spun about and glared at Harry.

"Don't look at me, like that, Tom," smirked Harry. "You're the one who just admitted the truth of your birth."

With an evil smirk, Riddle said, "Yes, Harry. I had my choices, that fateful night. I could have gone after you or the Longbottom spawn. I chose you, because you are a half-blood, just like me. The difference, of course, is that I am the Heir of Salazar Slytherin - while you are the Heir of Godric Gryffindor. I found that, too, quite fitting."

Turning back to his now quite shaken followers, Riddle seemed not to notice the little glances they were sending each other. However, Harry did.

"Were," said Harry.

'Take that, you wankers,' he thought. 'You bow and grovel at the feet of a half-blood.'

"Pardon, Harry?" asked Riddle.

"Were," replied Harry, again. "You died, Tom - though you do not recognise that, magic does. You died. Therefore, the Heirship passes on. These idiots, around you, know that. The Heirship passes on to the next."

"But the blood of a foe," Riddle continued, ignoring Harry's remarks. Harry though it was because he had no comeback. "Wormtail would have had me use any wizard, would you not, Wormtail? Any wizard who had hated me - as so many of them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Harry Potter's blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago - for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins, too...

"But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows. Protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago - when it fell to him to arrange the boy's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic to ensure the boy's protection, as long as he is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch him there..."

Harry's eyes widened at the implications of that. It meant his relatives - no matter how much he hated them, they were still family - were in danger.

"So how could I take him? Why, use my Death Eater I had stationed at Hogwarts today - that he touch the Tri-Wizard Cup first - the cup which had been configured into a Portkey, and which my faithful would alter to bring him here, beyond the reach of Hogwarts's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And here he is - the boy you all believed had been my downfall..."

Riddle moved slowly forward and turned to face Harry. He raised his wand. "Crucio!"

It was pain, but not beyond anything Harry had ever experienced. He felt as if his very bones were on fire; his eyes were rolling madly in his head; he wanted it to end, but he could survive it.

And then it was gone. He was hanging limply in the ropes binding him to the headstone of Riddle's father, looking up into those bright red eyes through a kind of mist. The night was ringing with the sound of the masked morons' laughter.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

From where he was crouched behind a headstone, not far away, Cygnus had to grab and hold tight to Sirius. Sirius was ready to dash out right there and then.

"Not now," whispered Cygnus, pleading quietly. "Soon. Soon, I promise."

As the Curse was lifted, Sirius settled down again. He just quietly growled. The grim within him ready to rip and tear Riddle to shreds.

Neither of them realised the scene was being played out in a similar manner around the graveyard by the rescuers.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

"Fuck, that hurt!" said Harry, hanging in his now slightly looser bindings. He thought, 'I hope that was a sign of how weak he really is. I'd hate to see what it felt like if he was at full power.'

He watched as Riddle, again, looked down at the wand in his hand; what looked like a slight frown marring his snake-like features.

Gathering himself, he continued, "You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that this boy could ever have been stronger than me - But, I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Harry Potter escaped me by a lucky chance. And, I am now going to prove my power by killing him - here and now - in front of you all - when there is no Dumbledore to help him, and no mother to die for him.

"I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger." He looked down at the snake, again moving about the tombstone. "Just a little longer, Nagini," he whispered, and the snake glided away through the grass to where the masked morons stood watching. "Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."

Pettigrew approached Harry, who scrambled to find his feet, to support his own weight before the ropes were untied. Pettigrew raised his new silver hand. And then, with one swipe, cut through the bonds tying Harry to the gravestone.

There was a split second, perhaps, when Harry might have considered running for it, but his legs shook under him as he stood on the overgrown grave. The masked morons closed ranks, forming a tighter circle around him and Riddle, so that the gaps where the missing morons should have stood, were filled.

Pettigrew thrust Harry's wand roughly into his hand without looking at him. Harry didn't even realise he'd not had it. Then Pettigrew resumed his place in the circle of watching morons.

"You have been taught how to duel, Harry Potter?" Riddle asked softly, his red eyes glinting through the darkness.

At these words Harry remembered, as though from a former life, the duelling Flitwick had run him through. He remembered the Disarming Spell, Expelliarmus, was actually a powerful spell in that it immediately removed the ability of most enemies to cast. But, what use would it be to deprive Voldemort of his wand? Even if he could, when he was surrounded by his morons and outnumbered by at least thirty to one?

"Yes," Harry simply replied.

He had never learned anything that could possibly fit him for this. He knew he was facing the thing against which Moody - Crouch - had always warned - the unblockable Killing Curse. And, Riddle was right - his mother was not here to die for him this time. He was quite unprotected until 'the cavalry' could save him.

"We bow to each other, Harry," said Riddle, bending a little, but keeping his snakelike face upturned to Harry. "Come, the niceties must be observed. Dumbledore would like you to show manners. Bow to death, Harry..."

The masked morons were laughing again. Riddle's lipless mouth was smiling.

Harry bowed. He was not going to let Riddle play with him before killing him - he was not going to give him that satisfaction - but, he was not going to invite another Cruciatus Curse to the chest, either.

"Very good," said Riddle softly. "And now you face me, like a man - straight-backed and proud, the way your father died...

"And now - we duel."

Riddle raised his wand, and before Harry could do anything to defend himself - before he could even move - he had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was intense. It felt like white-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin. His head was surely going to burst with pain. He was screaming more loudly than he'd ever screamed in his life.

And then it stopped. Harry rolled over and scrambled to his feet. He staggered sideways into the wall of watching masked morons; and they pushed him away, back toward Riddle.

"A little break," said Riddle, the slit-like nostrils dilating with excitement, "a little pause - That hurt much; didn't it, Harry? You don't want me to do that again, do you?"

Harry didn't answer. He was going to die if the cavalry didn't act soon. Those pitiless red eyes were telling him so - he was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it - but he wasn't going to play along. He wasn't going to obey Voldemort - he wasn't going to beg...

"I asked you whether you want me to do that again," said Riddle softly. "Answer me! Imperio!"

And Harry felt the sensation that his mind had been wiped of all thought. Ah, it was bliss, not to think, it was as though he were floating, dreaming - just answer no - say no - just answer no...

'I will not,' said a stronger voice, in the back of his head, 'I won't answer - Just answer no - I won't do it, I won't say it - Just answer - CAST!'

Harry suddenly snapped his wand up and, with a roar, cast. "Diffindo!"

The incantation burst from Harry's mouth - it echoed through the graveyard - and the dream state was lifted as suddenly as though cold water had been thrown over him.

Riddle was thrown backwards into the masked morons behind him, with a huge gash in his left shoulder.

And all hell broke loose.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

Neither Aunt Amelia, nor Uncle Algie, needed to give the signal. The forces of light knew they'd just received it. They came out from behind their places of concealment and attacked.

Harry drew his magic around himself - and pushed. Those masked morons close by were flung backwards. Harry dove to the side to avoid any inopportune curses cast his way. He rolled back to his feet in a crouch, just as Riddle regained his own feet.

Riddle was ready. As Harry shouted, "Expelliarmus!" Riddle cried, "Avada Kedavra!"

A jet of green light issued from Riddle's wand just as a jet of red light blasted from Harry's - they met in midair - and suddenly Harry's wand was vibrating as though an electric charge were surging through it. His hand seized up around it; he couldn't have released it if he'd wanted to - and a narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold.

Harry, following the beam with his astonished gaze, saw that Riddle's long white fingers too were gripping a wand that was shaking and vibrating.

And then - nothing could have prepared Harry for this - he felt his feet lift from the ground. He and Riddle were both being raised into the air, their wands still connected by that thread of shimmering golden light as a major battle of criss-crossing curses and charms flew about them - around them.

They glided away from the tombstone of Riddle's father and then came to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves. People were shouting. The masked morons were asking Riddle for instructions. Dodging curses and firing back, they were closing in; trying to reform the circle around Harry and Riddle. The snake slithering at their heels.

The golden thread connecting Harry and Riddle splintered; though the wands remained connected. A thousand more beams arced high over Harry and Riddle; criss-crossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web - a cage of light - beyond which the masked morons circled like jackals while also battling the attacking forces.

"Do nothing!" Riddle shrieked to his followers. And Harry saw his red eyes widen with astonishment at what was happening - saw him fighting to break the thread of light still connecting his wand with Harry's. Harry held onto his wand more tightly, with both hands, and the golden thread remained unbroken. "Do nothing unless I command you!" Riddle shouted to the morons.

And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air. It was coming from every thread of the light-spun web vibrating around Harry and Riddle. It was a sound Harry recognized, though he had heard it only once before in his life - phoenix song at full cry.

It was the sound of hope to Harry - the most beautiful and welcome thing he had ever heard in his life. He felt as though the song were inside him instead of just around him. It was the sound he connected with Fawkes, and it was almost as though a friend were speaking in his ear.

"Don't break the connection."

'I know.' Harry told the music. 'I know, I mustn't!' But, no sooner had he thought it, than the thing became much harder to do. His wand began to vibrate more powerfully than ever. And the beam between him and Riddle changed, too. It was as though large beads of light were sliding up and down the thread connecting the wands.

Harry felt his wand give a shudder under his hand as the light beads began to slide slowly and steadily his way. The direction of the beam's movement was now toward him, from Riddle. And he felt his wand shudder angrily. As the closest bead of light moved nearer to Harry's wand tip, the wood beneath his fingers grew so hot he feared it would burst into flame.

The closer that bead moved, the harder Harry's wand vibrated. He was sure his wand would not survive contact with it. It felt as though it was about to shatter under his fingers. He concentrated every last particle of his mind upon forcing the bead back toward Voldemort, his ears full of phoenix song, his eyes furious, fixed.

Slowly, very slowly, the beads quivered to a halt, and then, just as slowly, they began to move the other way.

Harry then started to finally draw his magic in. He drew it in and forced it out through the wand. He channelled it so it wouldn't leak about him. He focussed, and it was Riddle's wand that was vibrating extra-hard now. It was Riddle who looked astonished, and almost fearful.

One of the beads of light was quivering, inches from the tip of Riddle's wand.

Harry didn't understand why he was doing it - didn't know what it might achieve - but, he now concentrated as he had never done in his life on forcing that bead of light right back into Riddle's wand. And slowly - very slowly - it moved along the golden thread. It trembled for a moment - and then it connected...

At once, Riddle's wand began to emit echoing screams of pain. Then, Riddle's red eyes widened with shock. A dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished - the ghost of the hand he had made Wormtail. More shouts of pain - and then something much larger began to blossom from the tip of Riddle's wand - a great, greyish something that looked as though it were made of the solidest, densest smoke. It was a head - now a chest and arms - an old man Harry had not seen before was now pushing himself out of the end of the wand.

If ever Harry might have released his wand from shock, it would have been then. But, instinct kept him clutching his wand tightly, so that the thread of golden light remained unbroken. He held, even though the thick gray ghost of the old man (was it a ghost? it looked so solid) emerged in its entirety from the end of Riddle's wand; as though it were squeezing itself out of a very narrow tunnel. And this shade of an old man stood up, with mild surprise, leaning on his walking stick, and looked up and down the golden thread of light, and spoke.

"He was a real wizard, then?" the old man asked, his eyes on Riddle. "Killed me, that one did. You fight him, boy..."

But already, yet another head was emerging - and this head, gray as a smoky statue, was a woman's. Harry, both arms shaking now as he fought to keep his wand still, saw her drop to the ground and straighten up like the others, staring. The shadow of Bertha Jorkins surveyed the battle before her with wide eyes.

"Don't let go, now!" she cried, and her voice echoed like the old man's as though from very far away. "Don't let him get you, Mister Potter - don't let go!"

She and the other shadowy figure began to pace around the inner walls of the golden web, while the masked morons fought around the outside of it. Riddle's dead victims whispered as they circled the duellers, whispered words of encouragement to Harry, and hissed words Harry couldn't hear to Riddle.

And now another head was emerging from the tip of Riddle's wand. A young woman. She joined the others. It sounded like she was yelling at Riddle in Italian, or something.

Yet another began to emerge, and Harry knew when he saw it, who it would be. He knew, as though he had expected it from the moment the figures had appeared from the wand. He knew, because the man appearing was the one he'd thought of more than any other tonight.

The smoky shadow of a tall man with untidy hair fell to the ground as the others had done, straightened up, and looked at him. Harry, his arms shaking madly now, looked back into the ghostly face of his father.

"Your mother's coming..." the shade of his father said quietly. "She wants to see you - it will be all right - hold on..."

And she came - first, her head, then her body - a young woman with long hair. The smoky, shadowy form of Lily Potter blossomed from the end of Riddle's wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like her husband. She walked close to Harry, looking down at him; and she spoke in the same distant, echoing voice as the others; but, quietly, so that Riddle, his face now livid with fear as his victims prowled around him, could not hear.

"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments; but, we will give you time. Riddle's forces, here, are vanquished. It's only you and he, now. When we tell you to break the connection, do so immediately. You must then immediately hit him with the Expulsion Curse. Do you understand, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry gasped, fighting now to keep a hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding beneath his fingers.

"Then you must immediately kill the snake," his mother firmly said. "Nagini is the last of his horcruxes. Once she's dead, it's over. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" Harry gasped again.

"Ready... do it now," whispered his father's voice, "Be ready to strike - Do it now!"

"NOW!" Harry yelled. He didn't think he could have held on for another moment, anyway. He pulled his wand upward with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke. The cage of light vanished, the phoenix song died - but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear - they were closing in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze.

With his magic surging through him, singing in his veins, Harry powered his Curse and uttered the incantation with a soft snarl. "Expulso!"

The dark brown curse flew from his wand tip and struck a completely unprepared Riddle dead centre in the upper chest, where the breastbone could normally be found.

Not even looking to see what damage he'd done to the man, Harry spun to his right; where he sensed the snake to be. He saw it as it was just starting its strike, right towards him.

With a shout of "Diffindo!" his curse hit the snake in the upper neck, and severed the head right off the body.

The head, now loose struck him in the thigh before bouncing away. A moment later, an unholy black mist rose from the snake with an unearthly scream. It then faded away.

He turned back to look at Riddle. The shades had all disappeared as he slowly walked forward. Everywhere was silent, except for the cries of the injured and dying around him. He was focussed only on the supine body before him.

Surprisingly, Riddle appeared to still be alive - unconscious, but alive.

Harry raised his wand and - with barely any hesitation - muttered, "Diffindo!" severing the head from the body.

Again, a black mist rose from the body before it emitted an unearthly scream and faded away.

He was done.

Harry fell to his knees and onto his haunches, before he leaned forward and vomited up the contents of his stomach.

He felt arms suddenly circle around his shoulders. He stiffened before he heard, in his ear, the voice of his godfather. "I've got you!"

He was sobbing his heart out. The effects of the Cruciatus Curse, now that his adrenaline and magic levels were dropping back down, were causing spasms in his muscles throughout his body. But, he didn't care.

Looking around, he could see aurors moving among the bodies of the downed masked morons. They were moving swiftly and efficiently. Where they found a live one, they stripped it of its masked moron robes and mask; summoned wands and portkeys; affixed to their wrists anti-magic cuffs; and moved on.

Where they clearly found a dead one, they did the same; but, didn't use the cuffs.

"Lord Potter," he heard the voice of Aunt Amelia.

Turning to the voice, he saw her and Croaker come and kneel by him. She vanished the remains of the vomit from before him, and said, "We're getting you out of here. Algernon has opened the Department of Mystery's own medical wing for you and everyone else, here, who was injured. We want to keep this quiet, for now."

"Wh - where's Daphne?" he croaked.

Croaker hesitated before he said, "We'll send her. For now, we want to keep - this - quiet. Everyone who was involved will meet us there, including Lady Daphne."

Harry stiffened and said, "She wasn't hurt, was she?"

"No," he said. "We kept her well away from the fight."

Harry relaxed again and nodded. "Don't forget to bring - that," he said, gesturing to the body of Riddle.

"We won't; I assure you," smiled Croaker.

"Just so you know," said Harry. "My - mum - told me the snake was the last of his horcruxes. It's over. Riddle's now really, really, dead."

Croaker stiffened before he turned and looked at the body of the snake. "Then, we'll bring that back with us, too."

He then turned the other way and picked up a shattered piece of marble. With a muttered, "Portus," he turned it into a portkey. "You need to go, now," he said. "Lord Black, please ensure he's immediately treated with an Anti-Cruciatus Potion when he arrives."

"I will," replied Sirius firmly from just behind Harry's shoulder.

Croaker handed the portkey to Harry, who held it in the palm of his hand. Sirius then reached out and touched it.

Reaching out, himself, and touching the piece of marble with the tip of his wand, Croaker muttered, "Activate."

With the recognisable hard tug on his navel, Harry and Sirius disappeared in the swirl of the portkey.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

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