AN: Well now, this was supposed to be a really epic chapter that tied up every loose end (or at least most of them) in this story, but I feel it was rather anti-climatic at the end. I tried to make a fight scene to show the 'final showdown', but Harry was simply so far beyond Voldemort that, in my opinion, it just fell flat. It probably doesn't help that I suck at writing fight scenes. Oh well, just the epilogue left after this, and then Fate's Gamble will be finished, after a year and a month of effort. Oh! I meant to ask this a while back, but can I please ask for two little things? One, if anyone is any good at fan art, I would love to see your impressions of what I've made! Two, if any of my readers know what they're doing (because I certainly don't), could they please make a Tropes page for this fic? *Gives best puppy eyes I can*

Beta'd by: NIX'S WARDEN

Chapter 87 – The Final Task

Illya was lounging about in the shadow of an apple tree behind Harry's home. She was enjoying not having anything to do, as odd as that may sound. Before being summoned by him, she had never stopped, always moving from one thing to another, one conflict to the next.

Now, one might have thought that such an active person would find themselves restless if nothing was going on, but not Illya. Instead, she took the opportunity to be as lazy as she could be, relishing in her idleness, glad that she could use her time as she saw fit, and if she chose nothing at all, well, that was her own prerogative.

Just because she was not being particularly active, did not mean she was unaware of her surroundings however. When there was an ever so slight shift in how the gentle breeze flowed across her skin, she knew that there was someone there, and by the close feeling of her bond with Harry, she assumed it to be him.

She was right.

Opening her eyes, she could see Harry walking towards her, but something else also caught her eye, something that made her lip quirk upwards in amusement. Honestly, what was it about Harry that caused him to always end up in these situations? Whatever it was, it amused Illya to no end.

"Cat fight." She muttered under her breath, watching Len and her counterpart, White Len, rolling around on the floor behind Harry's back. Were those two arguing about who was the better Len again? Well, 'arguing' might be putting it a little oddly, considering only White Len spoke, but Black Len still managed to convey her disdain of her 'twin' without uttering a single word.

Harry heard her, no matter how quiet she was, and let out a resigned sigh. He had not broken up their arguments, not wanting to take a side, and he didn't believe it his place to interfere with them regardless. Due to White Len being some sort of strange 'clone' of Len's, with TATARI's nightmare manifestation ability added in, she was having a sort of identity crisis, unsure exactly who or what she was.

The best way to deal with that was for White Len to find her own answers herself, though perhaps she should start with a name to call her own.

"Illya." Harry nodded his head in greeting, but there was something in his tone of voice that made the Archer class Servant sit up and listen. "If something were to happen to me, if I were to go out of control, can you give me an honest answer of how far you would go to limit the damage I caused?"

That was an odd question, and it made the usually playful Illya frown and adopt a more serious air. "Honestly? That would depend. If it looks like you will burn your anger out quickly, I would remove innocents from your immediate vicinity. If you were a... greater threat, I would do all I could to stall you, I am not fool enough to believe I stand a hope in hell of actually killing you."

Harry smiled at that. "Good answer, and exactly the sort of thing I was hoping for." Shadows coalesced next to Harry, forming into a gun. Harry grabbed it out of the air before it could fall to the floor, gently tossing it to Illya, who caught it and began to examine the weapon.

The main body of the weapon resembled an old Enfield rifle, though it had obviously been modified a great deal. The barrel was slightly longer than what one might expect of an assault rifle, though shorter than most sniper rifles as well. There was a flick scope mounted on the rail on top of the gun, and she spent a moment to check the magnification, one being a two times zoom, and the other being a ten times zoom.

There were runes covering the gun as well, and unless she was mistake, Harry had also included a mana crystal into it. There was power in that gun, potent as well, she could literally feel it. That gun, was dangerous, far more than a regular weapon would be, and possibly on the same level as a high ranked Noble Phantasm, and it was old, far older than a casual observer might have thought it was.

"Black Barrel." Harry said. "In the right circumstances, it's a gun that can even kill me, though it would have to be used in conjunction with other things to do so. Even still, it's potent enough to slow me down, and even take me out temporarily. If I do go out of control, can I trust you to use this appropriately?"

Illya looked at him with slight confusion. "Why are you asking me? You've known me for less than a year, and I haven't exactly shown myself to be the most responsible girl around. There are others you could ask, some of which could use this better than I could."

"Who?" Harry asked. "Of those close to me, some are simply too close, and may be reluctant to use this on me. I would hope that we are at least friends, but I am also aware that you can make tough decisions when the situation calls for it. Even if you haven't openly displayed such qualities, I can read souls, so I know what sort of person you are."

Illya holds the rifle in her hands. She can tell that its appearance is deceiving. While it will, to most, look to be little more than a modified rifle, she can tell that it will maintain accuracy far beyond all modern sniper rifles, yet retain the rapid fire ability of a true assault rifle, perhaps even exceeding the rate of fire a mounted machine gun may provide, all with minimal recoil.

It was an incredibly dangerous weapon, even more so now that Harry had toyed with it. A regular gun would be a threat to a human, and few magi would have defences tailored to stopping such a thing, but this was a step beyond that, capable of being a threat to supernatural beings, those that would normally ignore such a weapon, disdaining it as little better than a blowgun and a blunt dart.

"You would trust me this much?" Illya asked.

"I have not spent enough time with you to fully trust, and I hold too much within to even trust myself, but to the extent that I will trust anyone, yes, I trust you." Harry replied. "If you do accept the task I have given you, know that I have made arrangements so that no matter where I am, you will be able to get to me and put me down."

There were no more words said between the two, Illya lost in her thoughts of the gun she held and the boy whose eyes had flickered for a moment, while Harry returned to the house to continue what he had been doing previously. He did not see the gun turn to shadow in Illya's hands, the substance flowing along her arms, he didn't need to.

Illya thought that perhaps she should make more of an effort to understand her strange master.


Illya decided that the best way to get to know Harry better was to bug him relentlessly, people always showed more of their true selves when they were irritated beyond belief after all.

That... didn't quite go as planned. For obvious reasons, she couldn't bug him when he was conducting experiments when he was in his workshop, especially considering just how much ambient power was saturating the area, it was so thick as to make the air feel heavy with it, and simply breathing around there was like imbibing a heady alcohol.

She did not think Harry even realised what he was doing himself. The Third True Magic was, in Illya's opinion, the most ridiculous of the lot. Whenever Harry used even the slightest amount of prana, his soul would immediately reset his reserves to full, perpetuating his infinite power. Therefore, his capacity for Magecraft was only limited by the maximum output his circuits and body could manage.

For a regular magus, this would be a fair amount. For a high-class magus, this would be a substantial amount. For a Dead Apostle, this would be a ridiculous amount. For Harry, this was a beyond obscene amount. Harry had gone so far as to split his Magic Circuits into pieces, strengthen them until they were just as good as before, and then split them again! Each time he ripped his circuits apart and remade them, he was essentially increasing his own prana output!

With Harry being almost impossible to kill, his potentially endless lifespan, his ability to assimilate anything he came across, and his drive for improvement, Harry had literally limitless potential. His growth curve attested to that, and comparing the Harry of now to the one of a decade previous showed quite the contrast.

Away from Harry's workshop, and the risk of making something go boom (and far worse than that), Illya had found that Harry's patience was seemingly endless. Or perhaps he was simply amused by her attempts at learning more about him, leading her on with tantalising hints and subtle implications.

Harry didn't like the games of politicians, but he could dance amongst them like a hidden jester if he had a mind to.

"Oh, come on, just one little thing?" Illya wheedled, giving him her best puppy dog eyes. "Just one little secret between you and I? Something to affirm the trust we have in one another?" Illya's eyes watered a little, and she stuck her lower lip out in a pout that should move even the most cold-hearted tyrant.

Harry's eyes glittered with amusement as he regarded her. "Oh? Going for the direct approach this time? Have your feminine wiles not succeeded? I did leave you some interesting little facts about me, or are those the breadcrumbs you are following to a gingerbread house?"

"Would it help my case if I said yes?" Illya asked without a hint of shame.

Harry burst out into laughter at that. "Ah, I don't know, would it?" He grinned at her. "I suppose that I could share a secret with you, or more accurately, let you know about it first. It's nothing special yet, but in a century or more, it could become something truly beautiful."

Illya's interest piqued, she laid her hand in Harry's when he held it out to her. Her grip tightened slightly when the pair of them were wrapped in shadows, before their bodies were consumed entirely. Zelretch, who was stood at a window, quirked an eyebrow at that, before searching out where in the Kaleidoscope his adopted grandson had gone.

When he found him, his eyes bugged out of his head in surprise.


When the shadows dissipated, Illya looked around herself in curiosity. There didn't seem to be anything particularly awe-inspiring about where she was. There was green grass beneath her feet, perhaps a few shades darker than might have been expected, and what looked like a forest off to the left, a young one, though also one that was rapidly growing. Behind her, there was an ocean, though it was rather still, no waves lapping at the shore.

Illya's attention was drawn to the young forest when a flash of silver and gold flickered between the trees. Out trotted a small group of unicorns, four adults and three foals. The unicorns seemed to recognise Harry, as they all came up to him and greeted him warmly, before turning to regard Illya curiously.

"Unicorns?" Illya asked. "That can't be what you wanted to show me, I know some of the others have also met unicorns in Elestia's forest. No, there must be something more, but what is it?"

There was noise behind her, and Illya turned to find the surface of the water was no longer still, and something was coming out of the ocean. She was rather stunned at the sight of a massive, serpentine head that must have a skull large enough for her to stand up in.

"A sea serpent?" She asked, glancing at Harry who nodded his head while a unicorn foal nuzzled at his hand.

"Just two examples of those that are here." Harry told her.

"And just where is here?" Illya pressed her question, curiosity burning inside of her.

Harry's brow creased with a frown. "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure." He shrugged. "It's a place I discovered by accident. I was curious about the limits of my Imaginary Space, you know where I keep my apples, Prismakreuz, and so on? Well, I meddled with it, until I somehow ended up here."

Harry was silent for a moment. "This place is not my mindscape, yet my mind can influence this place. This place is not a manifested landscape within my soul, yet it is somehow attached to my soul. I've taken to calling this place my own little world. Of course, the unicorns were not here initially, and neither were the sea serpents or any other of the inhabitants of this world. Initially, this world was a blank rock that I have terraformed to be as it is."

"The creatures weren't here initially, you said." Illya's eyes flickered to the unicorns, and then back to the sea serpent. "If that's the case, why are they here now?"

"It was a request." Harry told her, frowning. "You know how magic is, for lack of a better term, dying out in our world? Phantasmal species are uncommon at best, the gods that remain spend most of their time in slumber, and those with the potential for Magecraft are becoming rarer."

Illya nodded her head. "Yes..." She trailed off, not sure what to say to that. "Humans, ordinary humans, are becoming more numerous, technology and science are taking over from mysticism and magic. Only ghosts and the like remain prominent, the fascination with the 'paranormal' spreading amongst regular people."

Harry nodded his head. "Magecraft is dying out. The Makiri line, once powerful, is now extinct. Even if I hadn't killed Shinji and Zouken, the 'heir' of the family was powerless, and they had to rely on Sakura to continue their family speciality at all, a magus from another family. They're not the only family to be dying out, though it's less obvious elsewhere."

"And that has to do with the Wizarding World, how? They're not dying out, in fact, if what I've seen is right, muggleborns are becoming more common than they were before." Illya pointed out.

Harry chuckled. "It is true that muggleborns are more common than they once were, but they are not increasing at the same rate as the general human population is, and they are not as powerful either. Take it from someone who can see their souls, and their magical cores, the pattern is obvious for those who look."

"So the Wizarding World is dying out as well then?" Illya sighed sadly, it was not a happy thing that magic was disappearing from the worlds as they 'grew up', as it were.

"Yes, it is. Already there are species that are on the brink of extinction, and Elestia knows this. She asked for me to find somewhere to shelter them, so they will not disappear completely. Where better than somewhere like this, a world in which I am the ultimate authority?"

Illya gave him a wry grin and gently punched his shoulder. "Heh, I thought you were supposed to be a monster? Giving sanctuary to such a variety of creatures, those aren't the actions of a monster." She smirked at him. "I won't deny, however, how much more comfortable you are around the supernatural than humans."

Illya clasped her hands behind her back as she looked around. "So, how big is this place and how many different animals have you brought in?"

Harry chuckled. "I'm still expanding the area, but right now this place is about the size of Australia. The climate varies a lot though, the 'northern' part of it being frozen solid, while the 'south' has a bit of desert. Creating climates isn't easy, you know, but I think I've managed well enough. As for what lives here, there's actually a lot, everything from flobberworns, to bowtruckles, to thestrals, and even a small flight of each type of dragon still around. That's not talking about the plant life though."

Illya took Harry's hand as he led her into the forest, the sea serpent that had greeted them returning to the ocean depths. She looked around as she entered the trees, marvelling at the sheer variety that she could see. Oak trees, elm, willow, pine, cherry, all sorts.

Harry led her to a clearing within the wood, where an archway formed of twisting and intertwined branches could be seen. The roots of the trees were thick here, and Illya could feel the presence of what she assumed to be Elestia there as well, feeding the forest around her.

"Elestia has managed to form a connection with this place, her ability combining with my power to accelerate the development of the flora hereabouts, and causing it all to flourish. Aqua has also formed a connection with the water of this world, infusing it with the energy it needs to support magical life." Harry explained.

"Their help is much appreciated, turning this place into a sanctuary for magical life. It would be such a shame if such beauty, grace, and magnificence was to die with the world that had spawned them." The smile that crossed Harry's face then softened his usually neutral features, making him seem simply radiant.

"So is there a limit to the types of plants and animals welcome here?" Illya asked.

Harry chuckled. "Not at all. As long as they don't piss me off, they're welcome here. There is even a few centaurs that I'm considering inviting here, Firenze prime amongst them. I'm also going to extend an invite to Amaterasu to give her an anchor here when our world eventually dies, and so many more."

A small smile appeared on Illya's features. "A natural retreat created through unnatural means for all to enjoy." She huffed a half-laugh. "You really are a contradiction, Harry." Harry just shrugged his shoulders in response, knowing the truth of her words.

"I am what I am." He replied.

"Ain't that the truth!" A voice came from behind them, making Illya whirl around on the spot, though Harry showed no surprise at all.

"Who are you?" Illya asked, not having expected anyone such as the one before her to be here. It was a human-looking boy, maybe around sixteen or seventeen. There was a very light tan to his skin, and he had short black hair that was an absolute mess sat atop his head. He wore a black button down long-sleeved shirt, a pair of black pants, and black shoes.

What really grabbed her attention was his yellow eyes, the one thing about him that looked abnormal.

"Who am I?" He echoed her question. "Now, that is an interesting thing. I am not as clear cut as my... associates. I was fear, but I used it, I represented it, but I did not embody it. I did not curl up in a corner and cry in fear, I did not shy away from it. I am impulse, instinct, base thought without restraint. Or at least I can be. I am the little voice in the back of the mind, murmuring about what I could do, what I would do if not for restraint."

"Shadow of the Heart." Harry murmured. "He is like Tyrant, Serial Phantasm, and Dream or Destruction, though less developed due to his youth. He's another aspect of me, an embodiment of impulsive thoughts, reckless abandon, and lack of restraint."

Shadow nodded his head. "Exactly. I am the voice whispering in the back of his mind that's telling him to slaughter the Malfoy brat, the sweet temptation to dominate the other three champions and bend them to our will, and the desire to let loose Angra Mainyu upon this world just to see what would happen."

Harry frowned. "I do not know why you chose that form, it is rather ironic that the least human part of me so closely resembles what I would be if I had lived a more mundane life." It was true, the figure before him resembled a healthy version of the Harry Potter he'd seen in that alternate world, except with yellow eyes.

"He's not going to do anything that he just said, is he?" Illya asked tentatively. She well knew just how powerful Harry's other aspects were, Tyrant was capable of raw strength beyond anything that tried to match her blade, Serial Phantasm could drain the life from a target just by standing there and possessed great skill with her spear, and Dream or Destructions least destructive spells could level a street, she didn't want to think what this guy might be capable of.

"No, he's not." Harry replied easily. "While I acknowledge his voice, it is tempered by more rational thought and counter arguments. That's what holds his personality back when he manifests, calming his more... extreme thoughts while he interacts with the world."

"So he's not going to go on a murderous rampage or anything?" Illya asked.

"Oh, he didn't say that." Shadow manifested a gun in his hand that he pointed right at Illya. It was an odd thing, the barrel was large, but its general shape was similar to that of a revolver. Actually, it most resembled a flare gun with a long barrel, but Illya doubted it would fire something so tame, and the opening seemed large enough to fit a small rocket in it.

Illya was tense for a moment, before Shadow sighed and the gun in his hand disappeared. "Still, it would take some form of provocation for me to go on a rampage. Ah, what a cruel Origin I have, that does not allow a free spirit such as myself to run wild."

He smirked at Harry, before disappearing back into said boy's mind. "He is the most dangerous and unpredictable of my aspects." Harry spoke up. "Even I, the source of his existence, do not fully understand him, because he draws his sense of self from all that I do not consciously acknowledge, even if I know that it is still a part of me."

Illya would wonder about what he said then for months afterwards, not sure if it was the most insightful thing she'd ever heard, or perhaps the most disturbing.


"Where are you going?"

Harry looked up to see V/V standing in the doorway. Her white wings were folded behind her back, and she was wearing the same style of dress she had been in when Harry had first 'met' her. It was also the first time that she had been out of Harry's room, the false angel having remained in there, barely eating while she stared out of the window.

"Azkaban, a prison. One who thinks himself my enemy is gathering his forces and I wish to destroy them all in one go. I am not someone who leaves such a risk lying around, not even languishing in a prison cell. There has been more than one escape from that prison, and I will not let my targets have the opportunity to do so any longer." Harry told her.

"One who thinks himself your enemy? Is he perhaps not?" V/V asked.

Harry tilted his head to one side. "When the Aristotles descended upon Earth, did any of them view mundane humans as their enemies?" He replied to her question with one of his own.

V/V frowned. "No, no we did not. At best, they were nuisances. Even those capable of destroying us were not particularly noteworthy. Even when Knight Edem destroyed one of my kind, it was a simple setback, as we who were backed by our planets could be brought back eventually, thus it was only a delay in the inevitable."

"Does that answer your question?" Harry asked her.

"Do you really stand that far above him?" V/V's voice was uncertain, not quite ready to believe that Harry was truly as powerful as he claimed to be.

Harry chuckled. "V/V, I stand on a similar level to you. In endurance, I am your equal. In speed, I am your superior. In offensive power, I am perhaps inferior. In potential, well, who knows?" He shook his head. "Even if I was not on your level, I am still far above him in every way that matters."

Harry could see her about to speak, but he stopped her. "That is not arrogance speaking. I have examined his soul, and had Len sift through his memories while he slept. Everything he knows, so do I, and I can confidently state that, unless I allow it, he cannot injure me, nor can he stand against me if I chose to end his life."

"I see." V/V sighed. "Is there anything you cannot face? Any foe you cannot overcome?"

Harry laughed. "Undoubtedly, yes. I said that I stand on a level similar to you, therefore there is the distinct possibility of an Aristotles being capable of killing me, you are beings that follow a different common sense after all. Even without that, there are beings that stand far above both you and I, therefore I am not all-powerful."

"And those that... stand below you?" V/V asked hesitantly.

Harry frowned. "Make no mistake, when I speak of those 'above' and 'below' me, I speak merely in terms of power and capability. The worth of a life is not mine to decide, but is left to whoever balances the scales. I will kill, of course I will, but I don't know what their lives will be worth compared to mine, or even what they are worth compared to each other. I will not dwell on such things, and I will simply live my life how I see fit."

"I guess that's all that anyone can do." V/V shrugged her shoulders sadly.

Harry frowned. This melancholy didn't suit the girl at all, she was too bright for it, a shining lantern amongst long shadows. "You're mourning, unhappy. Is there... someone you miss from the Land of Steel?" Harry had taken a look at her soul, he honestly couldn't avoid it, but he hadn't dug deeply into her personal life.

"Yes, there was. He died though, yet I still wonder what he would say about some things. I wish I could speak with him again, even if only for a few minutes." V/V sighed, and she appeared even more depressed than she had before.

"I- I can help with that." Harry told her, V/V's eyes snapping up to meet Harry's own, demanding an explanation. "As long as they're dead, I can temporarily call up there soul. You won't have much more than a few hours, any longer than that causes pain to them, they were not meant to endure amongst the living without a physical body. Do you want that?"

"Yes." V/V stated firmly. "I do want that."

Harry bowed his head, letting slip a tendril of Legilimency into V/V's mind, searching out the one that she wanted to talk to. It was a necessary evil, he couldn't call someone up without a frame of reference, and dragging up someone who had died in another world would be complicated enough without piling more difficulties on top of it.

Pain! Lancing through Harry's mind was ridiculous amounts of pain. Of course this would happen, V/V was a TYPE, she followed a different set of rules, a literally alien common sense, her mind would obviously be incomprehensible to a creature that was used to the logic of another world!

Harry forged through the pain though, hunting down at least an image of the one he was supposed to call up. There! A man, a regular human, as frail as the rest of his species. He was the last of his kind. He was dangerous. He was stubborn. He was strange, even to Harry's mind.

The thought he'd found was connected to others. Harry dredged them all up, the more complete an image he had of the person he wanted to summon, the easier it would be. Still, that did not make swimming through a TYPE's mind any easier, even if she was 'infected' with human concepts, which was probably the only reason this was working in the first place.

"Harry! Harry!" Huh, what was that?

Harry blinked in surprise, finding himself knelt on the ground, his black blood leaking from his nose, the corners of his eyes, his ears, even some of his blood vessels had ruptured, and Harry could feel his brain repairing the damage it had suffered while he dived into V/V's mind.

Harry got unsteadily to his feet.

"That was most decidedly unpleasant." He muttered. "I'll have to find a way to sort that out soon."

"Are you okay?" V/V asked, concerned, knowing he'd gone through that pain so that she could meet him just one last time.

"I will be shortly." Harry said. "My body is already almost repaired, and my mind is already working on a way to prevent such a reaction ever happening again." This would keep Dream or Destruction occupied for days! Finally, a bit of peace and quiet from the chatty aspect.

"Are you sure?" V/V looked at him with worried eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure, and it's nothing compared to what Zelretch and Sirius caused to happen." Harry told her.

V/V sighed. "I already told you that does not matter."

Harry grit his teeth together. "V/V, there are two things I believe in, and there are three things I despise. The two things I believe in are choices and responsibilities, and one of the things I despise is rape. Whenever I get drunk, I put mental limiters on myself beforehand to suppress lust, so that I don't do anything I would despise myself for while under the influence. Zelretch and Sirius did not allow me that, they engineered a situation that I hate with a passion. They have both been punished already, but it will be a very long time until I forgive them, and I'm not above being vindictive enough to revisit punishment upon them."

"I understand." V/V bowed her head in acknowledgement. "Still, I stand by what I said, it truly does not matter to me."

"And that is your choice, V/V, and I will respect that. However, it is also up to me to decide when their punishment is enough to satisfy me, and I can be quite the sadist when the mood takes me." Harry put one hand on V/V's shoulder, and he was just about to head out the door when he called over his shoulder.

"By the way, I've procured a physical body for you to inhabit. It's in my workshop, and we can stuff you in it when I get back." Harry called out, before summoning the 'Gun God' in front of V/V. "You have three hours, make good use of them."


Voldemort looked out over the host camped before him. Werewolves, giants, hags, trolls, all manner of dark creatures were present, and in great numbers. Since his revival the Halloween past, using blood from Dumbledore that had been retrieved by his spy, he had kept to the shadows, recruiting as many as he could to his cause.

Tomorrow was the day though, the day of the final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. It was tomorrow that his faithful Death Eater at Hogwarts would send along his greatest foe, Harry Potter. The boy would be dead soon after his arrival, and his corpse would be delivered to the 'Light' to show them that their 'saviour' couldn't save them this time.

A troubled frown crossed Voldemort's face. He had heard all of the reports of the Potter brat's accomplishments in the tournament so far, and a few more reports his Death Eater had supplied him, and he was worried. Some of the feats that the creature had performed were things that he wouldn't be capable of without great preparation, and equally great difficulty.

Yes, he had ensured that the site prepared for Potter's arrival was as inescapable as it was possible to be. Yes, he had gathered all of his current forces at that location. Yes, he had prepared as fully as he personally could for the 'showdown' between him and the boy.

Still, it never hurt to be cautious.

Behind Voldemort, his Death Eaters were preparing a ritual circle. He had never required something like this during his previous conquest of the British Wizarding World. Honestly, if he'd just waited, he would have conquered the fools who dared to oppose him. No history book could convey just how bleak things had been before Harry Potter saved them all.

Was this a step too far? It really said something about a course of action when even Voldemort was wary of it. Still, Voldemort knew the rules, and so long as they were followed to the letter, then he had nothing to fear. He would not, however, use these beings once Potter was dealt with, the risks were simply too great for the potential reward.


Summoning them was viewed as even more horrifying than the Unforgivable curses. There had even been points in the past where Dark Lords had fought side by side with Leaders of the Light in order to combat such terrifying things, that was how dangerous they were.

On the other hand, Harry Potter was a foe that Voldemort did not understand, and he was not going to underestimate him, not this time. He'd seen, through Legilimency, the power that Potter had casually thrown about during the tasks so far, and it disturbed Voldemort that he could be so casual with that power.

Rewriting the world with but a chant? Ridiculous, but it had happened. Being named as a god by a sphinx? That was beyond believability, yet the foreign creature had done so. Freezing the lake, done as casually as transfiguring a teapot? Impossible, especially at such a rapid rate. Casually destroying his enemies with a blade in hand? Perhaps the easiest task to understand. Wizards were meant to have wands in hand, not steel. Flying into space with naught but wings, and then plummeting to earth so fast that he had boiled the surface of the lake when he had returned? Truly absurd. Defeating skilled duellists, though admittedly teenagers, in a duel of magic? Understandable, though frustrating.

Now all Potter had to face was a maze, and then he would finally fall at Voldemort's hand. Initially, Voldemort had considered making things easy for the Potter boy, but he was smart enough to know that the brat was too aware to fall for that. Simply preventing the competition getting to the cup first was enough, and that was what his Death Eater spy had been instructed to do.

"It is done, my Lord, everything is prepared." Voldemort turned around to regard Rookwood. It was strange that his followers in Azkaban had been freed so close to when he was going to reveal himself to the world at large. Perhaps another of his Death Eaters had remained more true to him than he had thought, and they had heard of his revival somehow. They were useful, if nothing else.

"Very good, Rookwood. Now, it is time for me to begin the ritual." His red eyes flickered about. "If anyone interrupts me, I will be most... displeased."

Rookwood bowed away as Voldemort began chanting.

By his feet, lay the prepared sacrifices.


"Today's the day." Harry muttered, rolling his shoulders. "I've no classes today, it was decided to give everyone the day off, even if the task isn't until tonight. I think Dumbledore did that because the students are too hyped up to learn anything, especially with so little of the year left."

"When are you going after Crouch Junior?" Altrouge asked, looking at Harry curiously. "And how are you going to do it?"

"He's been a pain in your ass this year." Arcueid nodded her head. "I think that deserves some special treatment."

"I think there are others that deserve some special treatment." Tamamo murmured, her fox tail wrapping around Harry's waist and pulling him tight against her. Harry shifted a little uncomfortably at that. He knew, in his mind, that things would undoubtedly take a step up since he had lost his virginity to V/V.

Some who only knew of Harry's lack of certain morals, or his disregard for social norms, might have thought he would be all for it. He wasn't. Harry was not some hedonist who would jump head first into something like that. Don't get him wrong, ever since that event, he had found his eyes wandering about the forms of his female associates, but he didn't think he should just jump into bed with them just like that.

If the girls wanted sex just because he'd had sex with V/V, then that was simply wrong in Harry's mind. If they thought that sex would bring them closer to him, that too was false. Only when both he and his partner (or partners as the case may be) were prepared, and they were committed to each other, would Harry even begin to think about sleeping with them in a non-literal manner. Also, some of Liz's suggestions didn't even sound physically possibly, even for a shape-shifter like himself, not to mention they made hardcore S&M sound tame.

While Harry was being wished good luck – as unnecessary as it was – by everyone, Sirius remained silent, his eyes downcast. Harry had applied a binding to him that prevented him pulling tricks, 'banning' him from pranking for at least a decade. Worse than that, for Sirius, was the unbridled anger that had been in Harry's face when he'd been dealing out damage to him and Zelretch. If nothing else had struck home that Harry wasn't James, it had been that.

Sirius honestly hadn't seen anything wrong with it at the time. He'd done the same to James in school when his best mate had been stressed. Stun him, shove a contraceptive potion down his throat, load him up with aphrodisiacs, and shove him in a room with one of his fans for the night. It had loosened James up brilliantly!

He'd gone too far with Harry though, and he could only see that in hindsight now. Granted, Zelretch hadn't helped. It had been the vampire who had decided on TYPE Venus being the appropriate bed partner for Harry. Sirius had simply not understood the relationship dynamics between Harry and the girls well enough to decide who would be best, and so had left that up to the old bloodsucker.

He would make it up to his godson though, somehow, and Harry still was his godson in Sirius' mind, even if Waver now officially held that position. It wasn't like Harry really needed a godfather, he was fully capable of taking care of himself, and he was also capable of looking after other people too.

He didn't know how long it would take, and he didn't know how he would achieve it, but Sirius swore to himself that he would find some way to make it up to Harry and receive some form of forgiveness from him.


The task was less than an hour away.

The maze which had been grown in the Quidditch stadium was not Harry's current destination however. He had been keeping track of Crouch Junior's soul for hours now, and he was finally by himself, alone and away from both staff and students.

Holly had locked down the area of the castle around him. The windows had bricked themselves up, secret passageways had sealed themselves, doors had melded into stone walls, and the ends of the hallway had closed up as well. Crouch should be beginning to panic about now, not understanding what had happened.

Holly allowed one of the secret passageways to open for a brief moment, enough to let Harry slip through. Silently, the wall behind the tapestry closed over the gap that had formed.

Harry stepped out into the middle of the hallway.

"Potter, do you know what the hell's going on here?" 'Moody' called out to Harry, the peg leg thumping against the floor as the imposter marched up and down the corridor.

"Perhaps I do... Barty." Harry replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

Instantly, 'Moody's' wand was in his hand, pointing at Harry. "What was that?" He asked.

Harry chuckled. "Oh, do put that away, it's useless right now. I know who you are, I knew before the plan to replace Moody was even thought up. In fact, I played a small part in you getting your 'freedom', you know? Well, freedom is a bit of a misnomer, you've been watched this entire year, and you didn't notice a thing, did you?"

"Avada Kedavra!" Crouch yelled, the green spell leaping from his wand.

Harry leaned slightly to the side, letting it pass harmlessly by, and then lazily got out of the way of the next volley of killing curses the professor sent his way. The last one, however, he treated differently. His hand lashed out and grabbed the green spell.

Crouch was stunned as Harry toyed with the green light in his hand. "Ah, the 'killing curse', such an odd spell. There's no purely magical shield that can stop it, and physical shields are quite severely damaged when hit. It is possible to disrupt the spell matrix however, a 'counter' spell to the killing curse as it were."

Harry 'gripped' the spell, or as well as he could considering it was essentially a packet of energy, having no physical mass at all. He stretched it out, then tweaked it a little, until he had a ghostly sword in his hand. "It's useless on magically resistant things though. It takes multiple simultaneous hits to take down a dragon, and even more for a nundu."

Harry began to take slow, deliberate steps towards Crouch, reaching out with tendrils of his aura, corrupting and corroding the magic around him. The essence of Angra Mainyu, under Harry's firm guidance, dissolved the effects of the polyjuice potion on Crouch.

The transformation was most painful, though that was probably more to do with his real limbs having to force the false ones that Moody required out of the way. Crouch's screech as his real leg forced the clawed wooden one out of the way – that had been rather firmly attached – brought a feral grin to Harry's face.

"Your master has failed." Harry's voice was whisper quiet, yet still could Crouch hear it clearly. "His horcruxes, his soul anchors, will not save him. You have not delivered him a sacrifice, you instead have facilitated the arrival of his executioner. I will kill you know, and you can be 'comforted' with the knowledge that your master will soon join you in Death's embrace. Well, maybe not her embrace, I doubt you are worthy of her hugs."

Harry looked into Crouch's eyes and tore his way into his mind. He ransacked it of everything it contained, and then plunged the Avada Kedavra sword through his face, before letting the spell dissipate. He winced slightly before lightly touching his forehead.

"Yes, I know it's a jumbled mess. Dream or Destruction can organise it, and if it matters that much to you, lend her a hand, Serial Phantasm." Harry muttered.


Alicia was the first one into the maze. Victor and Fleur weren't far behind her.

Harry, however, was forced to wait for quite some time until it was his turn. He had refused all points in all tasks, and it was because of this that he had such a late start into the hedges. It wasn't massively concerning though, a quick Structural Analysis let him know the formation of the hedges, and he could mentally track the souls of his competitors.

He casually strolled into the maze when the cannon blast was heard. Above his shoulder and behind him, one of the viewing orbs hovered, watching Harry and projecting his image onto the large screens that the audience were watching their progress on, another display showing them the maze and the champions' locations within it.

"So this is the 'earth' task?" Harry glanced around. "Disappointing, I was hoping the connection to the element would be stronger." True, he had known what the final task had been in that alternate reality he had visited, and the dragons had been the same, as had the lake, so he really shouldn't have expected this task to differ too much.

"Oh, what's this? Devil's Snare?" Harry sighed. "This is overkill, but I might as well use her fire." With that, black fire consumed the plant in front of Harry. Like fiendfyre, shapes of creatures danced within it, though these ones seemed primarily vulpine in nature rather than mythical, and they all seemed to have mischievous green eyes.

Harry wandered through the Black Fire of Amaterasu that he'd conjured up. He didn't extinguish it though, and had it form a small army of super-sized foxes that ran followed him as he made his way deeper into the maze. They were useless against the next obstacle though.

"An illusion?" Harry chuckled. "Should I tear it down, or simply ignore it?" Harry pondered for a moment, caught between removing the illusion of a small, fast-flowing bit of river with stepping stones in it, or simply walking through the 'solid' bit of hedge next to it which was the actual pathway. "Heh, I'll leave it as it is. It's certainly a fairly well crafted illusion, though trying to fool me with it is an effort in futility."

Harry wandered through the maze for a short while, mostly encountering spells, enchantments, curses, and plants as obstacles. It wasn't until he got to a fork in the path that he encountered his first magical creature, and he had to wonder why that was. He didn't have the false Moody clearing his path for him, so maybe they simply didn't want to risk killing animals, or perhaps the champions, off too much.

"I've got to say, however, that I certainly didn't expect to see Lethifolds in the maze." Harry cricked his neck, before holding out his right hand. In it, materialised his scythe, the one crafted from his own blood and bones. He wondered just how potent a weapon it would be if he had used his body as materials now.

Destroy them for me, would you, Harry?

Harry blinked in surprise. Death?

Who did you think it was? Yes, it's me. I'm asking you to destroy the Lethifolds, if you wouldn't mind. While they aren't quite as bad as dementors, they still infringe upon my domain without good reason. You did not think there was a reason the Patronus charm affects them like it does dementors?

Harry shrugged his shoulders. Whatever you say, Death.

The scythe slid easily through the Lethifolds' bodies, like a sharp blade through cloth. "Another thing that can supposedly only be driven off by a patronus." He shook his head, a slight grin on his face. "Speaking of a patronus, Expecto Patronum."

Harry's spell brought forth a slightly glowing, and incredibly solid and realistic looking, silvery Primate Murder. Harry set it off down the path ahead of him, walking along behind it with his scythe over one shoulder and whistling a merry tune, quite melodiously as well if he did say so himself.

Harry walked on, through the maze, through the various obstacles he encountered. Some of them he solved with tricks, others with skill, and others with brute force, the less said about what Patronus Murder had done to that poor Venomous Tentacula the better.

"And there's the cup." Harry said to himself, leaving a pink... thing behind himself. He'd gotten bored dealing with his obstructions by dealing out death, so he'd resorted to making things amusing, and had transfigured the acromantula into a pokémon, a slowpoke to be specific.

Harry mentally tracked where the other three champions were at present. Krum seemed to have ran afoul of something tk the south-west, as he'd been stuck there almost since Harry had entered the maze himself. Fleur was to the north, having gone past where the cup was without apparently realising it, she was actually rather close to the outside hedge about now.

As for Alicia, she was fairly close actually. From what Harry could tell, she'd encountered something she couldn't handle at one point and doubled back on herself, and then she'd hit a dead end, and after that she'd pretty much been following Harry's trail, and had encountered some of the things he'd left in his wake.

"Let's get this over with." Harry shrugged his shoulders, reaching for the cup. A tendril of magic, unseen, wrapped itself around the viewing orb that had kept the spectators up to date with what Harry had been doing, making sure it was brought along for the ride as well. He disillusioned it for good measure as an afterthought.

With that, he vanished.


Back with the audience, cheers began to sound as Harry touched the cup, but it was soon reduced to muttering when he didn't reappear where he was supposed to. Whispers began to sound amongst the watchers about a possible 'final' task after the final task, and their attention returned to the viewing screen for Harry's orb.

Sirius, along with those he was sat near, hadn't taken his eyes off the screen, because he knew what was currently happening, and what exactly Harry was about to do. The fact that he had the sheer nerve to do this with a 'live' audience, and Harry would know they could see it, was something else.

Currently, Harry was knelt on the ground, examining some runes that were part of a larger configuration, a symbol etched into the ground around five metres in diameter. Sirius didn't know runes well enough to even begin to guess what the purpose of the circle was, so he asked Holly, the fairy girl.

"Binding and containment." She replied. "Unless you bear the counterpart to it, your access to your magic will be severely limited, and even your physical body will be heavier and slower. That's just a marker circle though, and with it being the size it is, they must cover a huge area."

Sirius became distinctly worried at that point. "It's like Depletion Garden then? Does that mean Harry is weak while he's inside it?"

Zelretch laughed. "Weaker than normal you mean? Very slightly, not enough that you would notice it, and not enough to really make much of a difference. Were it anyone else, a wizard at least, they would have only been able to cast a 'lumos' spell, a 'reparo' if they're particularly powerful."

"And Harry?" Sirius asked hesitantly.

"Could rip apart an entire continent as he is and still not break a sweat." It was Tamamo who replied. "He might be able to do more if he let me help him develop some more destructive spells." She almost purred those words out. "But Harry says that continent breaking is big enough for now."

Aoko snorted. "Have you taken a look at some of his notes?" She shook her head. "He has theories, valid ones as far as I can tell, that would allow him to destroy an actual star, like our sun, without straining himself to the point where he ends up like this guy." She jabbed a thumb at Zelretch, reminding them what the strain of fighting Type Moon had done to him, how much of a shadow of his former self he had become.

"So Harry will be alright?" Sirius looked at Aoko, hoping for a straight answer, but it was Liz who replied.

"Please, as if Harry could ever be in danger because of weaklings like that."


Harry stood up, glancing around himself. Something was definitely off right then, and it put him slightly on edge. He could feel a great many souls nearby, in all directions. There were werewolf souls he could feel, and there were hags as well, giants too, and more.

There were other souls as well, ones that seemed... abnormal. Describing them was difficult, especially because he couldn't easily equate them to the regular five senses. They were contradictions of nature, as if they could make left into right, up equal to down, turn purple into a flavour, or pineapple into a sound.

A slow clapping could be heard, and Harry turned towards the noise. A man with waxy, pale skin, slitted red eyes, and no nose stood in front of him. He wore pitch black robes, making his skin seem even paler than it already was, and the tip of a wand poked out of a pocket.

"Well, well, the guest of honour is finally here." The 'man' said, his voice high pitched and grating.

"Voldemort." Harry looked his opponent up and down. "The years haven't been kind to you, have they?"

"Oh, they once were, but not in the last thirteen years, not since a certain Halloween night. Since then, it seems, I have been struck with rather bad luck and incompetent subordinates. That changes tonight, however, as the world will soon come to fear the name of Lord Voldemort as they once did." Riddle replied.

Harry's eyes flickered to either side. The souls in the area were now beginning to cluster around where he was, though they till kept some distance away. Voldemort's Death Eaters, the humans who had taken his mark, were kneeling around him. The werewolves were prowling around the two of them, the giants were standing tall, and the hags were hanging back, watching.

"You've brought a lot of back up, I see." Harry calmly observed.

"Back up? No, they aren't all here to fight you, they're here to watch the performance." Voldemort laughed. "You have been quite the substantial thorn in my side, Potter, and I will enjoy watching you die. I will not dirty my hands with your tainted blood though, so I had to have some other means of killing you, and I do believe that I have outdone myself."

"Tainted blood?" Harry's lip twitched into a small smirk. "Big words for someone who is closer to muggleborn than half-blood. Your mother was a squib, if I recall correctly, and your father a muggle, heir to a lord's title, yes, but a muggle all the same."

"How dare you slander the dark lord so, you filthy beast!" Shrieked one of the kneeling Death Eaters.

"Now, now, Bellatrix." Voldemort calmed his most zealous underling. "It is the nature of those backed into a corner to throw out such remarks, ignoring them is the best response, don't give them any satisfaction in their last moments before death."

Voldemort turned towards Harry. "You see, Potter, it is not my blood that is... concerning. I remember our encounter three years ago, was your blood not purple then? A most unusual colour... for a human at least."

Harry chuckled. "Ah, yes, the colour of my blood. If it is of any worth, it is black now." With that, Harry drew a sharpened nail across the palm of one hand, letting a line of black blood appear on his hand and drip to the floor. "And it is deadly." He added, as the ground hissed and spat where his corrosive blood came into contact with it, eating away at it.

Harry chuckled a little, then reached up to the large black bow that kept his hair in a ponytail. He tugged at it, pulling it loose and allowing his hair to fall in a shimmering wave of purple straight to the floor. Then he shifted his hair into a mass of writhing snakes.

Harry's hands shift further into claws, his face becomes more angular, and his stance shifts to one of feral aggression. He then had his six black wings sprout from his back, making him look like some sort of hybrid of demon and fallen angel. The red and black lines that spread out over his body, originating from his heart, didn't mitigate that impression at all.

"It truly is a pity to see such a promising young wizard devolve so much, throwing away his humanity to become akin to a beast." Voldemort shook his head and sighed. "Well then, if it is a beast you wish to be, then it would be fitting if you were be slaughtered like one."

Harry sighed, the snakes that had replaced his hair hissing as he shook his head. "Okay, I'm getting bored of the banter, let's just get down to me killing you, okay?" Harry rolled his neck, before settling into his own combative stance, knees bent, one hand on the floor, and poised to charge off with great speed.

Voldemort raised one eyebrow, or what would be an eyebrow if he had any hair. He raised his arms in an encompassing gesture, indicating everything that was around him, all the creatures and his Death Eaters. "You think to touch me? You will not even get close."

Thou art I and I am thou.

Voldemort and the rest paused as words resounded in the air around them with no clear source, though the feral grin on Harry's face was full of promise, a promise of pain and death.

I am the eternal destroyer of good.

Behind Harry, something began to take form. It was like a form-fitting suit of armour, made of overlapping matte black strips of metal. Attached to the gauntlets of the 'armour' were two sharp blades that stuck out past the hands, which held a pair of daggers.

I bring death and disease, I am the fiendish spirit.

Hanging from where the arms joined the torso, were a pair of long, thick ribbons. At the ends each of the ribbons was a short, stubby, triangular blade, like a cinquedea or pugio dagger. The twenty foot tall being's helmet had its visor down, hiding its face much like Harry's blindfold hid his eyes.

I am Angra Mainyu, and I will destroy all in my path!

The pseudo-Persona roared, before charging off to engage the giants in combat. The two daggers it held in its hands dissolved into a black mist before reforming into a massive Zweihander, that it used to immediately cleave one giant in half.


Back in the stadium on Hogwarts grounds, the audience was silent. The other three champions had been retrieved from the maze, seeing as Harry had already touched the cup, but just like everyone else, their eyes were fixed upon the screen showing what was happening around Harry.

After having materialised Shadow of the Heart from his mind, though the aspect seemed to like playing as 'Angra Mainyu', Harry had then materialised the rest of his aspects: Tyrant, Serial Phantasm, and Dream or Destruction, who had all engaged Voldemort's forces in combat.

Well, to call it 'combat' might be misrepresenting it, perhaps it would be better to declare it a slaughter. Tyrant was hacking werewolves and hags into pieces with obvious glee, laughing like a mad-woman. While a werewolf is naturally stronger than a human by quite a bit, it was nothing before Tyrant's raw strength.

Serial Phantasm and Dream or Destruction were systematically dismantling the Death Eaters, though they each had a very different way of doing so. Serial Phantasm was quick, efficient, and didn't mess around. In fact, she seemed rather bored by the 'fight'.

A step to the side to avoid a curse, a thrust of her spear, and then she was onto the next target. Occasionally, she would swipe her spear sideways, knocking a Death Eater into another's curse, before delivering the final blow, but she was like a machine. She even had favourite places that she preferred to strike, the base of the skull, where the spine ended and up through the ribcage and into the heart being the two most common ones.

Dream or Destruction was more playful and energetic about things. Whenever a spell was sent her way, she would hit it with the tip of her whip, causing the spell to explode. She kept switching out what she used to kill the Death Eaters as well, one moment using the elemental marbles Harry had made for the Nineteen Ninety-three Duelling Tournament, then switching them out for the sword that had been made for Harry's Saber impersonation during the Grail War, and then moving onto something else for the next kill.

All of this was just part of the reason the crowds had gone quiet. Another reason for their silence would be their shock at seeing Voldemort, alive. No words can easily describe the terror of the war a decade and a half ago, and to see the cause of it standing confidently before their saviour, well, it was not an easy thing to digest.

Cornelius Fudge had another reason to be silent, and for his complexion to resemble old porridge. He had yet to inform the populace about the breakout from Azkaban that had happened the previous day, having hoped to keep it under control and sorted without the public becoming aware of it, and right now, on screen, all of the Azkaban escapees could be seen.

Medusa was being quiet for a whole different reason. She was using the distraction Harry was causing to sneak up on one Draco Malfoy. In one hand she held a portkey that Zelretch had modified to transport someone between dimensions, and she wanted to show her displeasure to the pretentious blonde brat regarding his attempts to enslave her sister in a marriage contract.


Harry stood across from Voldemort, both of them ignoring the chaos of combat going on all around them. Harry casually checked in the bounded field he'd raised, making sure there weren't any holes in it that would allow anyone to slip through it. It would block apparition, portkeys, even physically passing through it was impossible, like running head first into an invisible dome.

In Harry's hands were his two Fae-crafted blades, Malleab and Izotari. Harry's hair was still in the form of snakes, but now they were white, as his hair usually was whenever he let all of his aspects out to play. He was looking at Voldemort curiously, wondering why he still seemed so calm and confident.

"You know," Harry casually spoke to Voldemort. "You are going to die very soon. I thought you would fear death, especially given what Voldemort, your chosen name, means. Aren't you the slightest bit frightened? Cautious? Wary even?"

"No, Potter, I am not. It will be you who dies today, not I, and even if I were to fall, I have proven that death cannot hold me, that I can return." A smug and condescending look crossed Voldemort's face. "You are powerful, I will allow that, very powerful. It's just a shame that such potential is being wasted."

Harry chuckled. "Wasted how?" He ducked as the decapitated head of a giant flew past him.

"On you. You have the power to bend the world to your will, and you spend your time teaching children who have no respect or potential of their own. You could be great, and I could... facilitate that greatness, but I won't. You are far too big a risk to let run loose." Voldemort replied, vanishing a spray of blood from one of his Death Eater's that dirtied his robe.

"Well, for your information, this was in fact my last year of teaching. I find that staying in one place so long is fairly boring, especially when nothing exciting happens, so I plan to move on, to something else, to somewhere else, to wherever I may find entertainment, a rush of adrenaline, or simply something that piques my curiosity." Harry told him.

"Ah, that's a little better, I suppose, but it matters not, that dream will be cut short right now." Voldemort shook his head, before glancing around himself, seemingly looking for something. "Attack!" He said.

Harry was only partially surprised when shadows gathered together, taking on physical forms, and charged at him. He'd felt those odd, contradictory souls nearby, but had been unable to pin them down. Whatever the things were, they were fast, able to keep up with Harry when he was going at speeds typical of Dead Apostles, around two and half times the speed of sound.

Curious, Harry upped his speed even further, and slashed at the nearest 'creature' with one of his blades. The blade sank into the thing, and then rebounded off it. Strange, it was like the thing was simultaneously as soft as marshmallow and as hard as concrete.

Harry let prana flow through his body, strengthening his muscles, increasing his strength, and raising his physical limits. He didn't even blur as he moved, slicing cleanly through the creature that Voldemort had set on him. Leaving it in two wriggling mounds of black spell-flesh.

"That won't work." Voldemort spoke up smugly. "You cannot kill it, for a demon cannot die."

Harry's eyes widened a little in surprise, before they crinkled in amusement. "A demon? Well, that explains why their souls feel so contradictory then. They are not of this plane of existence, the natural laws of this world are anathema to them, yet they are such primal forces that it does not matter, and they bring a fragment of their own realms with them."

Harry's two Fae-crafted blades vanish, and a scythe appears in his hands, the one that was made from his own blood and bones. He dodged two strikes from the demons at supersonic speeds, back-flipping over them. "They're banned in all countries of this world because they are so difficult to bind and direct, one must be explicit in their instructions or they will find the tiniest loophole in them, and a single rogue demon can devastate entire continents by themselves, what a group of them together could do doesn't bear thinking about."

A grin splits Harry's face in two as the scythe in his hands begins to project a most ominous aura, the runes in his own blood along it glowing darkly, as it seems to warp the air around it, the blade itself beginning to turn a dull red-black colour.

"I think you'll find, however, that I can kill what does not die!"

A swipe of his scythe cut a demon in two once more, but instead of simply reforming itself like the other had before, it let out the most inhuman, unearthly howl of agony that can't be imagined. The demon's dark 'flesh' seemed to turn upon itself, consuming its own body, and the howls and shrieks became even worse as it was rapidly eaten away.

This was enough to cause Voldemort's forces to be taken aback and hesitate momentarily, an advantage Harry's group didn't need, but took all the same. Serial Phantasm impaled Nagini, Voldemort's snake on her spear, before tossing her to Harry, who caught her in one hand.


Voldemort stared with wide eyes as Harry Potter did the impossible. A demon could not be killed, it was not alive! Like dementors, they could only be driven back into the void from which they came, and Harry Potter had killed one of them in front of him.

With a casual, one-handed swing of his scythe, Potter cut through the other four demons he'd summoned as if they weren't even there!

He raised his wand towards Potter, shaking despite himself, though his eyes were completely focused on Nagini in Harry's hand, cursing the need to create another Horcrux. He really should have chosen something more durable than a living snake, a mistake he would rectify as soon as he got out of here.

He span on the spot, abandoning his followers to disapparate to somewhere safe, but ran into a problem. Somehow he was being prevented from leaving, like there was a ward preventing his escape! He then tried his portkey, and found that too had been blocked!

Harry chuckled. "Having some trouble fleeing, are you?" He shook his head. "Did you really think I'd let you go that easily, Tommy boy? No, you will die here and now, and this time, you will stay dead!"

Voldemort's eyes flickered to Nagini in Harry's hand and a sneer crept across his face. "You may kill me today, Potter, but I will rise again! I am immortal!"

Harry laughed out loud at that. He held up Nagini's dead body to his snakes attached to his head. "Are you referring to your horcruxes?" He asked, and Voldemort stilled completely, not paying attention as Potter's snake hair ripped Nagini apart. "If you think they will save you, I've got something to tell you." Harry's voice was lowered to a near-whisper.

"They're all gone."

Voldemort looked Harry right in the eye as the boy laughed at him, thrusting forwards with Legilimency to see the truth for himself. This brat couldn't have discovered them all! He was having enough difficulty believing that Potter even knew what a horcrux was, never mind how many he had made!

Voldemort's Legilimency probe was rebuffed. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you want to see into my mind? I'm afraid I'm going to have to deny you access." Harry paused for a moment as a thought crossed his mind. "Hmm, I wonder, what does it feel like to be transformed into stone? I haven't really used my eyes much, but I think you have 'earned' the right to feel their power, you have been quite the nuisance after all."

Voldemort glared at Harry, angry at being referred to merely as a nuisance, though a large part of his mind was panicking at the situation he found himself in, and the unknowns he was plagued with. Was he truly without any horcruxes left? Surely he would have felt their destruction, surely!

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort cried, and the green spell from his wand went to hit Harry, who didn't bother getting out of the way, and simply let it splash harmlessly against him.

"It's no use, you fool. You are about to die, and there is nothing you can do about it." Harry muttered, and his eyes began to glitter slightly, like a gem that caught the light just right. It was entrancing, hypnotic, and despite himself, Voldemort couldn't help but look into those multi-coloured depths.

Harry kept the power he was feeding his eyes to a minimum, and he brutally forced a Legilimency probe into Voldemort's mind, relishing the feeling of dominance as he felt, through Voldemort's mind, as his feet were turned to stone, the cold creeping up to his thighs, and then his hips.

By then, there was nothing Voldemort could do, even if he could stop looking into Harry's mesmerising gaze. Part of his brain was screaming at him as his internal organs began to shut down, each turned to stone, as his body got colder and colder, before his lungs began to turn.

His breath got shallower and more laboured, his heart beating like crazy in his chest as it tried to force rapidly solidifying blood through solid veins and arteries. It was on the verge of exploding as the transmutation into stone reached it, and then it was only a matter of time until his brain ran out of oxygen, the cold stone holding his pained countenance in perfect detail.


Harry looked at the Voldemort statue in front of him and clicked his tongue in thought. He grabbed it and put it over one shoulder, before turning to look for the rest of 'himself' as it were. Tyrant was pouting, stabbing the unmoving corpse of a werewolf with her sword repeatedly, as if asking it to get up so she could kill it again.

Serial Phantasm was stood tall and serene, having finished off all of her targets and then waited patiently for Harry to finish his own task. Dream or Destruction was close to her, doing something to the corpse of a Death Eater, probably experimenting on it in some way, Harry was sure he'd find out in detail what was going on there when she returned to his mind.

Shadow of the Heart, in his twenty-foot tall 'Persona' form, was playing golf using a giant head as a ball and a Zweihander as a club. Harry's lip twitched in amusement at that, finding the sight to be more than a little ridiculous. He shook his head to dismiss idle thoughts.

"Well, let's get back." Harry said.

Serial Phantasm nodded her head and was the first to return to Harry's mindscape. That caused the snakes on his head to turn a light grey colour. Dream or Destruction was next, muttering something about the ratio of bones and muscles in terms of density that Harry was going to ignore for now.

When there was only Tyrant and Shadow of the Heart left, Harry's snakes were an ash grey colour, with just a hint of the natural purple his hair usually was. With Tyrant, who was next, back in his mind, the snakes turned a washed out purple, and Shadow of the Heart returned them to their vibrant norm.

Harry shifted his snakes back into hair, which he tied into a ponytail with the black bow he'd removed earlier. He then looked around for the Tri-Wizard Cup that had brought him here, and once he found it, he double-checked that it would, in fact, return him to Hogwarts.

He grabbed it, and then vanished.


When Harry returned to Hogwarts, the stunned silence – which had lasted a significant amount of time – was broken, and hysterics broke out amongst the crowd. There was a lot of shouting and screaming, especially when someone noticed that Draco Malfoy had mysteriously vanished in the chaos.

Harry strode over to where the Judges and other champions were, along with the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Planting the statue of Voldemort in front of them, he also handed the Tri-Wizard Cup over to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling like mad.

Harry gestured to the statue. "Minister, I hope you enjoy this gift I'm donating to the Ministry, to do with as you wish." There was no soul in it any longer, so even if they did somehow manage to transmute him back into flesh, Voldemort was now well and truly gone.

Harry then turned to Dumbledore. "I hope you don't mind, Headmaster, but with the exams over along with the final task of this tournament, I don't see any reason to stick around at Hogwarts any longer. Dock my pay for this month if you want, but I believe this is goodbye."

"Goodbye, Harry." Dumbledore smiled at the odd boy. "I would like you to return sometimes though, I'm sure you will be able to regale me with many interesting stories. This body of mine, if I look after it, may last another century, and I'm sure that in that time you will bring into being tales worthy of the ages."

Out of the crowd came Harry's friends and family, and with one final wave, they all vanished.