A/N: So I sat down this weekend and wrote myself an outline for the rest of the story. This is a
good thing for everyone, because now that I have a set idea of what's going to happen, it'll be that much
easier to write more chapters at a quicker pace.
With that in mind, I'd also like to mention that there are 6 chapters left, and an epilogue. Much is going to
happen, and there will be several surprises. I've already made up my mind on everything that will happen, and who
will die, so there's no way of avoiding it. Sorry. :P
And only one person reviewed last chapter to beg mercy for poor Lang, the star of my disclaimers! Poor Will, he was very disappointed. But to cheer him up, he will be written into the story as a fairly important character, and also as thanks for being with me on this story for about ten chapters now. He's a great friend, and I appreciate all of his input. Please, click on his name! He's writing a wonderful story that I'm occasionally beta-ing for him, and I think it's great. And without further ado, I introduce to you William Lang, the star of the disclaimer!
Warning: Spoilers for Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest ahead!
Disclaimer:
"Y'know, you tell me we're friends and all, but would a friend do this to me?" Lang-Frank asks, still clearly unimpressed with his latest transformation. Apparently while waiting for the newest chapter to come out, he adjusted to walking about in heels. His corset seems a bit tight, though, as he's still gasping for air on occasion.
"Yes, a friend would do this to you. Because it's funny. And you volunteered." The Author reminds him, removing a wand from within her robes.
Lang-Frank sighs, and braces himself for what's about to come. "So who is it this time? Tinky-Winky the Teletubby? Pettigrew? Willy Wonka? Batman? Oh please, don't tell me it's Riff Raff from that blasted Rocky Horror movie of yours. I'd rather kill myself than become an incestuous humpback with Filch's hairstyle. Oh god, it's Filch, isn't it?"
Crystal laughs. "Calm down, I'm in a good mood today. And I think you'll like what I'm about to do."
In a surprise move that Lang was most definitely not expecting, Crystal turns her wand on herself, and begins to transfigure her clothing. When she finishes, she's standing in front of him wearing the delectable pirate outfit worn by Elizabeth Swan in Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest.
Lang surveys her appreciatively. "You're right, I do like it! Does this mean you're doing your own disclaimer today?"
She shakes her head, and begins to put him through his usual transformation.
Closing his eyes, Lang refuses to look. "Luv, I swear, if you've turned me into Davey Jones…"
He is surprised by the gravely drunken swagger that is his voice. He cautiously opens one eye, peeking at his hand. He turns his arm over and sees the `P' branded on his wrist. Opening the other eye, he looks down, finding the ends of his dreadlocks, a raggedy shirt in desperate need of a good washing, and the best pair of boots a pirate can get. "I suppose this means you're the Elizabeth to my Captain Jack Sparrow, then."
Crystal smiles. "Now all we need is a Will Turner and that stupid monkey, and we're set!"
"Brilliant. Better hide the bloody rum first." Lang receives a glare for that. "What? Did you think I'd survive an entire chapter in your stupid Frankie getup without drinking? Besides, no need for you to set my supply on fire. Now, do I get that kiss that Jack did in the movie, when Elizabeth cuffed him to the mast?!"
Advancing on him, Crystal smiles a saucy smile that has Lang-Captain-Jack-Sparrow (wouldn't want to disrespect by forgetting the `Captain') effectively disarmed and backing into what appears to be a tall wooden pole behind him. She leans forward; her lips scant millimetres from his, and whispers to him. "You haven't earned your kiss yet, pirate."
Before Lang realizes what has happened, his hands are bound around the pole behind him, as are his ankles.
"Wench!" he yells, "I suppose you still want me to tell everyone that Harry Potter isn't bloody well yours, and that suing you for copyright infringement is pointless?!"
"That'll do nicely, yes." She grins.
Lang realizes he has just done exactly what she wants, and sighs. "Oh bugger…"
Crystal leaves him tied to his pole, ready to go for the next disclaimer.
<><><><><>
"So let's just make sure we've got this straight. Harry and I will stay here, and you will go into the Room. Ginny doesn't even know that you exist, so keep up the Harry Potter act. She'll be forced to give you a Portkey that will activate upon you touching it. From there, you go to Voldemort, and, well… you know the rest, I suppose." Hermione sighed, settling herself into her chair.
She, Harry, and Dummy-Harry were sealed behind a magical barrier that was the Wizarding equivalent of a muggle one-way mirror. They were in a corner, and able to watch and listen to the scene about to unfold before them. The barrier would protect them should any stray spells come their way, and it also enabled them to watch without alerting Ginny to their presence.
Ginny sat before them, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen. The Room of Requirement had sensed precisely what the two young Gryffindors were planning, and transformed itself into a perfect replica of the interior of Madam Puddifoot's teashop in Hogsmeade, but with the added barrier in the corner by the door.
At a private booth by herself, Ginny was tapping her foot on the floor impatiently as she waited for Harry. She had been Stunned prior to entering the Room, and with a handy Memory Modification charm, she was under the impression that Harry had promised to meet her in Hogsmeade, away from Hermione, so that they could talk. It bothered him to exploit her feelings in such a manner, but it was necessary to get the job done.
She didn't seem bothered by the fact that she was the sole occupant of the room, and commented to herself that Harry must have bought out the place for the afternoon so that they could have their privacy. A steaming cup of tea sat in front of her, and she sipped at it occasionally.
"Hermione, we've been over this more times than I can count," Dummy-Harry reminded her. "I go in there, pretend I'm meeting her for a date. She gives me a Portkey, I go off to Voldemort, and give old Red Eyes a good show. It's not that hard to remember."
"Yes, well, I would rather not have anything go wrong here. If we can't get the potion out of Ginny's system she's going to be like a ticking time bomb that could go off at any given moment. For all we know she could apprehend Harry coming out of the loo, slap the Portkey on him and run away. No offence, but I'd rather you be the one to… you know."
"Right, because I'm not real. I'm only alive because you wanted me to be." The dummy said with a trace of bitterness.
Harry looked nervously at him. "Second thoughts?"
The dummy shook his head. "No, I know my purpose here. But in the last little while, I've enjoyed being alive, being able to think for myself. It's quite a change to go from an inanimate object animated for the sole purpose of duelling practice to a sentient being capable of speech, thought, and emotion."
"Emotion?" asked Hermione. "I don't recall working that into your spell. Feeling, yes, but developing emotions? I added the feeling so that you would seem more human, I didn't realize it would develop into that."
"An emotion is a feeling, is it not?" the dummy reminded her. "And to be entirely honest, Hermione, from everything that you and Harry have told me of your history together, I'm surprised it took him until this year to realize he was in love with you."
Harry blushed, and Hermione followed suit. "Why does it surprise you?" Harry asked.
"Because I felt it when you two were talking to me in the common room. I noticed the seemingly little things she does, like nibbling on her lower lip when she's concentrating or worried, or the glances she'd steal at you when you weren't paying attention. And even though I am you and you are me, I was jealous that she was looking at you like that, and not at me. It's hard to be jealous of someone in that way if there's no love to cause it."
"Perhaps I had the range of a tablespoon up until this year. Not much more than a teaspoon mind you, but it was something." Harry said, winking at Hermione.
"Either way, I'm ready for this. It's what you transfigured and animated me for, and what you've been preparing me for." Dummy-Harry said sadly. He rose from his seat, grasped Hermione's hand, and pulled her up to stand with him. He turned to Harry, and he did the same thing.
Dummy-Harry embraced the real Harry first. "She's the best thing that'll ever happen to you, mate. Don't let her go." He whispered fiercely, regret and longing tainting his voice.
"I won't." Harry affirmed, stepping back. They shook hands, and the dummy turned to Hermione.
She seemed a bit unsure about how to act with him, as he'd pretty much just admitted that through her immaculate spell work she'd given him the capability to love and he'd discovered it was her he felt that way for. Throwing caution to the wind as the man-the dummy, she reminded herself-was willingly sacrificing the life she'd created for him to carry out their plan, she wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"You're amazing, Hermione," he said in a gruff tone. "Don't ever forget it."
"I won't," she echoed Harry's words to the dummy. "Thank you."
"No, Hermione." He shook his head, pulling back. "Thank you. You gave me what I could never have, a life beyond trading hexes with the next wizard to come along. No matter how short it's been I'm thankful."
He dipped his head to kiss her, a light, chaste kiss, and then smiled. He glanced at Harry, who nodded. After all, the dummy had said it himself. He was Harry, and Harry was him. And as they were both clearly head over heels for Hermione, he couldn't blame him for wanting a quick kiss before going on a suicide mission.
The dummy turned towards the exit point from behind the barrier, but a freckled hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"What the bloody fuck is going on here?"
"Ron!" Hermione gasped.
The lanky redhead stood just inside the entrance to the room, behind the barrier with Hermione and both Harrys. "What the hell are you three playing at? Some sick threesome fantasy? One Harry sodding Potter isn't enough for you, Hermione? You need two!?" His blue eyes were flashing with anger.
"Ron, it's not like that-" Harry interrupted, but a punch to the gut from Ron sent out all the air from his lungs, and he collapsed back into his chair. The dummy remained still by the doorway.
"You cowardly prat! You don't even have the stones to confront her yourself so you send in a copy of yourself to do your dirty work?" Ron seethed, indicating Ginny, who was still waiting at her table. "You're a right foul git, you know that? That's my baby sister you're messing with! Well you-you can just go fuck yourself, Harry Potter!"
Hermione sighed, wondering if Ron would ever bother to ask questions before jumping to conclusions and down everyone's throats. She was half tempted to hex him for his crude threesome comment, but Harry spoke before she had the chance.
Harry-the real Harry-looked at his doppelganger and grinned. "I'll admit, Ron, we are a rather attractive pair, but fucking myself? That's a bit much, don't you think, mate? That's like suggesting that I shag you, or Malfoy, or even the giant squid! Merlin knows he's far more fanciable than the Ferret!"
Dummy-Harry took the opportunity to join in the verbal sparring. "I dunno, Harry. From what I've learned the last little while, the expression `Go fuck yourself' is generally used when it's not technically possible to fuck oneself. It's generally used to get rid of an offensive person, setting them an impossible task to keep them busy. However, as there's two of us, it is possible, and therefore Ron used it in the wrong context which makes it a completely illegitimate comment." He paused for a moment, regarding both Hermione and Harry. "Though if he thinks we're about to have a threesome, I suppose that it would come up at some point anyway, so we might as well contemplate the idea now."
"You've been spending way too much time in the library with Hermione." Harry laughed.
Ron turned the infamous Weasley red and glared at the pair of Harrys. "Oh sod off, you bloody wankers."
"Sit down, Ron. There's no need for this verbal pissing contest to get out of hand." Hermione said firmly, conjuring a chair for him.
He did as told, and fixed them all with a confused glare. "So if you're not here to mess around with my sister, then why the hell are there two of you, and why the hell does the Room look like Puddifoot's?"
Hermione sighed. "It's the potion, Ron. Surely you must know about it, if you're here? I do believe Professor McGonagall mentioned sending a letter to your family to notify you of Ginny's condition."
Ron nodded. "She mentioned the potion, said it was the Unforgivables, but not much more than that."
"The Obeir potion is a liquid form of the Imperius, Cruciatus, and the Killing Curse all rolled into one. Voldemort captured Ginny, though I've no idea how, and made her take it. Her orders, from what we understand, were for her to find Harry and give him a Portkey directly to Voldemort. She found us in Godric's Hollow, but couldn't bring herself to send Harry off. She passed out from the pain it was causing. The Imperius is controlling her, the Cruciatus is punishing her if she doesn't follow orders, and if she entirely fails the mission…" Hermione trailed off, letting the implications sink into Ron's brain.
He gulped and visibly paled. Taking a few shaky breaths, he repeated his earlier question. "So the Room? And the two Harrys?"
"The Room is assisting us. Right now Ginny thinks she's waiting for a secret meeting with me, behind Hermione's back." Harry answered.
"And I used to be a duelling dummy," answered Dummy-Harry. "Hermione transfigured and animated me to take Harry's place. I'm to go in there and pretend I'm the real Harry, so that Ginny can send me to Voldemort and counter the potion."
"Why is she swaying?" Ron asked.
"She thinks she's drinking tea, but it's a Redheaded Slag. Loads of alcohol in it." Harry replied. He chuckled, remembering the trouble they went through to get the alcohol. He'd finally gone to the Hog's Head in search of Aberforth, told him that someone else had been administered the Obeir potion, and the older wizard was happy to help. He'd rounded up the required ingredients and wished Harry luck.
"You're getting her drunk?" the redhead was not impressed.
Hermione quickly explained to him how, in the first war, Aberforth had been under the same potion and Firewhisky had been what kept the potion from killing him when he attacked a goat. "Professor Dumbledore suggested that we do the same with Ginny."
"What, your dummy doesn't look enough like Harry? I wouldn't be able to tell the difference."
"Precautionary measure," supplied the dummy. "Just in case something goes wrong."
"She should be fairly sloshed now," added Harry. "That's her third one."
"Promise me this is for her own good." Ron demanded of Hermione.
"Honestly, Ron, do you think I'd be letting if happen if it weren't?" she said rather shrilly.
Ron sighed, and looked pointedly at the dummy. "So what happens when you get to V-Vol-Voldemort?"
The dummy looked resigned. "He kills me."
Ron fell silent.
"Hermione's re-worked my animation spell so that it ends five minutes after I've been Portkeyed out of Hogwarts. From what she and Harry have told me, Voldemort will curse and hex me as much as possible before he kills me. If all goes well, it will happen just as the spell expires. If not, I'll just lay there and play dead."
"Why not reset the spell so that it expires when he's hit by the killing curse? Wouldn't that be safer?" Ron demanded.
Hermione shook her head. "I'd have to cast the killing curse so that his animation spell would recognize its magical signature as the signal to stop working."
"Oh," Ron said quietly. "Well, looks like you lot have got things under control without me, so we might as well get on with it."
Harry opened his mouth to argue with Ron, but Hermione silenced him. We've waited long enough, love.
"Right then. Earlier goodbye sentiments still apply, I hope." The dummy said, fixing Harry and then Hermione with a meaningful stare. "Still considering Phase Two?"
Hermione nodded. "Be prepared. We don't know exactly what his reaction will be, but if I'm right, then yes. Phase Two will happen."
The dummy nodded, offering the trio quick hugs all around before he departed. "Well, goodbye then."
And with that, he crossed the barrier into the Room.
<><><><><>
"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed. "You finally made it!"
Dummy-Harry smiled a rather disarming grin. "Did you really think I wouldn't?"
He took a seat across from Ginny, and fiddled with the edge of the lacy tablecloth.
"I'm so glad you're here, I never thought Hermione would let you out of the castle."
He sighed. "Yes, well, I felt that we needed to talk after, well, everything."
Ginny sat patiently, waiting for him to continue.
The dummy wished for a cup of tea and the Room listened. He sipped at it, placed the cup back on the table, and looked her in the eyes. "I love Hermione, Ginny."
Her face fell, but she continued bravely. "No you don't."
"Yes, I do. I have for years, and it took a good proverbial kick in the arse for me to realize it." he admitted. "This summer, when she came to find me, you didn't come with her. Why, Ginny?"
"Ron was so upset after Hermione smacked him," she said quietly. "And I had…I had this silly notion in my head. When you broke up with me at Dumbledore's funeral, you said that you'd come back for me after the war. I thought that if you really wanted to see me, you'd come to me. I wanted to be the princess locked in the tower with my knight in shining armour to rescue me. If I went with Hermione to rescue you, that wouldn't be how it happened."
Dummy-Harry placed one hand over hers atop the table, and squeezed reassuringly. "Don't you understand, Ginny? I'm no knight in shining armour. I'm just me. And you're hardly a princess locked in a tower-you're more than capable of defending yourself. You always have been."
"But you are, Harry!" she said angrily, flinging his hand away, taking another sip of her drink. "You're a knight, a hero. The Daily Prophet doesn't call you the Saviour of the Wizarding World for nothing, you know."
"Ginny, you just don't get it. You see me as Harry Potter, famous wizard. You don't see me as Harry, boy who hates the limelight."
Ginny pouted and stayed silent for a few minutes, sipping her drink. Dummy-Harry was surprised at how well she was holding her liquor. She was still speaking clearly, though he could tell she was fairly inebriated, enough so that she wouldn't realize he was a fake.
<><><><><>
"Did you tell him to say all of this?" Harry asked.
Hermione shook her head. "No, did you?"
"I told him how I felt about things, but I didn't think he'd actually use it."
Ron interrupted. "Well, he's got to say something before she sends him off to die, doesn't he?"
Hermione ignored him, her face softening as she looked at Harry. "At least he's being rather sweet about it."
"What do you expect, he's me!" he countered.
Ron rolled his eyes. Since when did Harry become a cheeky prat?
<><><><><>
"So what are we doing here, then?" Ginny asked. "When you asked me to meet you, it sounded more like…"
"Like I wanted to drop Hermione and come back to you?" Dummy-Harry finished for her.
"Well, yeah."
He sighed. "Ginny, you really need to understand what I'm telling you. It's over. Forget what I said at the funeral about maybe picking things up after the war ended. Forget everything about us being together. I've tried to be nice about this, but I think it's time I reminded you that we wouldn't even have had a relationship if you hadn't dosed me with one of Fred and George's love potions. What we had wasn't real. It was all potion-induced and it wouldn't have happened otherwise."
Tears formed in Ginny's eyes. "There was something between us, Harry! I know there was!"
"Yeah, a Wonder Witch love potion. But that's it. That's all there was."
She was full on crying now, but her eyes were filled with hate. "I've wanted to be with you since I was a little girl and I will NOT let Hermione Granger come between us!" she raged.
Dummy-Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't you ever give up?"
Ginny glared at him and stood up, her hand fishing inside of her robes. "You'll regret the day you broke my heart, Harry Potter!" she said, pulling a rock from her robes. She held it out to Harry and he hesitated. Tears fell from her eyes, and she gasped for breath.
"I'm so sorry, Harry."
The dummy stepped around the table to pull her into a hug. "It's okay, Ginny. I know what it is. I know what you have to do."
She looked up at him in surprise. "You do? Why aren't you hexing me six ways from Sunday?"
He pressed a light kiss to her forehead. "Because I'd rather face Voldemort than have you killed for not following orders." The dummy held out his hand to take the rock from her.
"It-it won't work." She said shakily, gasping for breath. Telling him this would cause her a lot of pain. "Not unless we're both touching it."
Dummy-Harry was shocked. This was not good. This was not according to plan. He knew what to do in spite of this, Hermione had trained him well should this be the case, but he was more than terrified that it would not work, and that he would fail her.
<><><><><>
"Fuck!" Harry exploded behind the barrier. "We can't let Ginny go to Voldemort!"
Ron was scrambling to leave the barrier, but Hermione held him back. "We can fix it, Ron! Relax!"
Harry shot her a questioning glance. "You can do that?"
Hermione nodded. "I hate to admit, but I was expecting something like this. I figured it best to be prepared, just in case. I'm going to channel my magic through him, and with the wand we gave him, he'll modify the Portkey."
Ron gasped audibly. "Is that even possible?"
"It's difficult," Harry admitted. "I know it's not impossible, but I didn't know Hermione was capable."
"You should know by now, Harry, that once I set my mind to something, there isn't anything I can't do."
Without another word to her boys, Hermione went into a trance. Her eyes closed, and she was muttering incoherently.
<><><><><>
"Hermione!" the dummy gasped. He could feel her presence inside his mind, feel what she was about to do through him.
"Oh great, you just have to bring her up at a time like this!" Ginny glared.
"No, Ginny, it's-she's-"
Dummy-Harry's wand arm lifted and pointed at the rock in Ginny's hands. He focused Hermione's magic, coursing through his veins, into the wand she had given him that morning, and a blast of white light emitted from the tip to hit the rock squarely in the centre. Tiny coloured strands floated up from the rock, swirling about slowly. The wand tip separated them: red, blue, green and yellow. Dummy-Harry sought out the red strand, the part of the Portkey spell that required both his and Ginny's touch for activation. With more concentration on his and Hermione's part the strand slowly bled from red to purple, indicating that it had been altered. Another flash of white light and the strands were securely back inside the rock.
His eyes glazed over, and he heard Hermione's voice inside his head. It worked, we changed the makeup of the spell so that the Portkey will activate without Ginny's touch. I-I appreciate everything you've been saying to her. You didn't have to try and fix things for us, and, well…thanks. I'll see you if Phase Two commences.
Thanks, Hermione. For everything. And I meant what I said earlier. I know I'm not the real Harry, but I love you just as much as he does. I just want you to know that. He replied. He felt her presence leave his body, and his eyes refocused on Ginny.
"What the hell was that?" she demanded.
"Nothing, just trust me, Ginny. If I tell you, it'll hurt you. Now give me the Portkey, I'm ready for this." He held out his hand expectantly.
Ginny's lower lip trembled as she extended her arm. "Harry, I'm-I'm so sorry. I love you," she whispered, dropping the rock into his open palm.
With a fall of swirling colour, the dummy disappeared from Ginny's sight. She went rigid for a moment, and then collapsed on the floor, sobbing. "Oh, Harry… I'm so sorry. I wish it didn't have to be this way…"
<><><><><>
"My Lord, I'm afraid I have been elected to be the bearer of bad news," said Severus Snape, bowing low before the Dark Lord.
Voldemort fixed him with a glare from his throne. "Speak now, Severus."
Snape cowered under the crimson glare of Voldemort's eyes before he found the courage to speak. "It's Draco Malfoy, my lord. He's been released from St. Mungo's."
"How is this bad news, Severus? I expect the boy to have been immediately brought into our care. I understand that, due to the nature of his wound, I cannot provide him with a new limb as I did Pettigrew, so we must find a suitable alternative for him. I still have plans for the boy."
"He was not brought into our care, my lord. Standard operating procedure at St. Mungo's dictates that any victim or patient be released to their next of kin. As Lucius is a known follower of yours and Narcissa has been missing for several months, they did not release him to anyone sympathetic to our cause." Snape admitted, visibly shaking.
Voldemort did not look impressed. "And who, dear Severus, is Draco Malfoy's next of kin?"
"Nymphadora Tonks, my lord. She is his last remaining blood relative, on the Black side of the family."
"Crucio!" cried the Dark Lord, reducing Snape to a whimpering mass of what could be considered a pathetic excuse for a human being on the stone floor. "I told you the boy was to remain in our care! He knows, Severus! He knows of the cup! It was in Malfoy Manor, and he knows what it is. We must either bring him back or eliminate him. Being in the care of a known Order member will surely lead to his revealing the location of the cup."
For good measure, Voldemort tossed another Cruciatus in the direction of Snape. He sat down in his throne, pondering what to do about Draco Malfoy. If he remained in Tonks' care, she would surely force him to give up the location of his Horcrux. If they were to bring him back to Riddle Manor, he could be dealt with according.
As Snape moved to rise from his feet, a swirl of colour appeared in mid air and landed on the cold stone floor directly in front of Lord Voldemort's throne. Still shaky from the effects of the Unforgivable, Snape cautiously made his way over to the lump on the floor. It clearly was not a fellow Death Eater returning from a mission, as not only would the return point be different, but no self respecting Death Eater would be caught dead wearing anything other than the standard issue black hooded robes. This person was wearing burgundy robes, with white trainers poking out from the hem.
"It worked!" Lord Voldemort cheered gleefully. "It actually worked!"
Snape kicked at the figure on the floor. "Potter?"
He sat up groggily, pushing his messy black hair from his face. Realizing who had kicked him, he spat at his feet. "Snape." He acknowledged. Turning towards the throne, he raised his eyes to meet the haunting scarlet gaze of Lord Voldemort. "Tom."
"How nice of you to join us, Harry Potter. I was beginning to wonder if you'd have the decency to show," said Lord Voldemort, twirling his wand between his fingers.
"Well, you know me, I hate to disappoint." He said offhandedly, rising to his feet.
Voldemort glanced around the room, making sure that the only occupants were Snape, Potter, and himself. "You seem to be one unsuspecting victim short, Potter."
"Ginny's safe at Hogwarts." He replied.
"And how did you manage to activate the Portkey without her? It was set to work only when both of you were touching it."
"I'm afraid you underestimate both the capabilities of myself and those helping me."
Voldemort did not look pleased. He had been looking forward to torturing the Weasley blood traitor upon her return, and once again Potter managed to foil his plans. "No matter," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Though I will have to ask you to pardon my manners, Potter. You've been in my presence for nearly a full minute without a proper welcoming. Crucio!"
As he writhed on the floor, he couldn't help but think that, no matter how much Hermione prepared him for this moment, the pain was beyond anything he ever could have fathomed. The feeling part of her animation spell enabled him to not only feel emotion, but feel pain as well, and he was beginning to wish she had left that part out of the spell. He struggled to his feet through the Unforgivable curse, and trained his wand on Voldemort.
"Expelliarmus!"
Voldemort's wand clattered to the floor.
"Finally had the smarts to get a second wand, eh, Potter? No more connection between brother wands, its quite helpful." he said, wordlessly summoning his own wand back to him. "It'll help me do this!"
The pair began casting hex after curse, spell after jinx, and duelled for a few minutes. The dummy knew his animation spell was about to expire in less than a minute, so he stared Voldemort in the eye and spoke through the spells. "I'm not surprised you haven't beat me yet. We've been at odds since I was a baby, and here I am, seventeen years later. You can't kill me. You've never been able to kill me! Every time you've tried, you've made a mistake! Even when I was a tiny infant, helpless in my crib, I was powerful enough to survive the killing curse and drive you from your body. You can't kill me, Tom. You've failed every time you've tried!" He paused for dramatic effect, letting the words sink in as Voldemort dropped his wand arm to his side. Seconds ticked by, each staring down the other. "You're worthless, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Nothing but a half-blood, just like me. You spout pureblood ideals when you're not even a pureblood yourself! Your father was a muggle, Tom! You're nothing. You're lower than low. You're less than the dirt on the bottom of my shoe, less than the infinite particles that make up that dirt. You're nothing but a lowly half-blood mediocre wizard and no amount of dark magic you possess is enough to kill-"
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Just as Hermione had hoped, Dummy-Harry's animation spell expired just as Voldemort cast the killing curse. He slumped to the floor, his eyes cold, dull and lifeless. Hermione's transfigurations remained intact, and for all intents and purposes, Lord Voldemort had just killed Harry Potter.
Voldemort and Snape stood there silently, regarding the unmoving form of Harry Potter. Snape bent at the knee and pressed his fingers against his neck. There was no pulse.
"He's dead, my lord."
Lord Voldemort remained still and silent for a few moments, relishing in the fact that after seventeen years he had finally triumphed. Harry Potter was dead, and now there was absolutely no one standing in his way. Nobody could stop him now.
"Hold out your arm, Severus."
Snape did so, as Voldemort pressed the tip of his wand to the Dark Mark etched into his skin.
Moments later the members of the Inner Circle flooded into the chamber, stopping short at the sight of Harry Potter's corpse, lifeless on the ground. Bellatrix Lestrange stepped forward, and curled herself around the Dark Lord's feet like a cat.
"Potter is dead." Voldemort announced. "My plan with the Weasley blood traitor, despite a minor kink, was a success. Avery, you'll have to make due with another blood traitor toy. In the mean time, I think we should notify the wizarding world of my triumph. Rodolphus, Macnair, Rookwood: Commandeer the Wizarding Wireless Network. I have an announcement to make. I shall tell the world that Harry Potter is dead, and make a public announcement of our celebration. Bellatrix, Snape, I shall trust the two of you to make the necessary arrangements. The twenty-seventh of August would be suitable. Just enough time to strike terror into the heart of the wizarding community. Parents will be too terrified to send their children to Hogwarts, which will leave the castle open for my next attack. We shall take Hogwarts, and it will become our base of operations to prepare for the final battle."
"My lord," cooed Bellatrix, "congratulations. With Potter gone, you will rule the world."
"Yes," he hissed, patting her head like one would a cat. "I shall rule."
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