The next morning, Harry slowly awoke, summoned his glasses wandlessly, and grinned as he realized that he was at the Burrow and not alone at the Dursleys. Intent on doing all the wandless magic he possibly could, now that he couldn’t “work out” with Dudley’s weight set, he sat across the room while he opened his trunk, removed a set of clothes and a work robe for the day and summoned them to him. He hadn’t quite found a spell to remove his own clothes – he wasn’t quite sure what kind of spell book that would be in – so he did that by hand and got changed. After a few scourgify spells, Harry was clean without a shower or a need to brush his teeth, so he set off downstairs.
Apparently it was quite early. He passed Ron’s room and heard the redhead’s snores, no surprise there, and he even heard quiet come from Hermione and Ginny’s room. When he finally made it downstairs and shuffled into the kitchen, only Mrs. Weasley and Fleur seemed to be awake. Mrs. Weasley, as usual, was bustling around the kitchen preparing a sizable breakfast, while Fleur seemed to get in her way somewhat.
“Morning, Mrs. Weasley. My, both of you ladies look ravishing today. How can I help you get ready, Mrs. Weasley?” Harry said. Tom’s rather encyclopedic knowledge of flattery definitely paid off as both Fleur and Mrs. Weasley smiled brightly at him in response.
“Oh, good morning Harry, dear. I think I have it all under control here, why don’t you and Fleur go set the table or something?” She said, waving her wand in the direction of the scrambling eggs on the stove to stir them. Harry had to hand it to her; though he had quite a lot of experience cooking with the Dursleys in the Muggle way, he would only likely succeed in catching the house on fire if he tried to help her. Fleur and Harry grabbed the dishes and went out through the door to the dining room. Harry, remembering how lonely she felt yesterday, struck up a conversation.
“Well, I’m kinda glad she kicked me out of there – I’ve only ever cooked the Muggle way, so I’d probably just damage the breakfast!” Fleur smiled at him again.
“Yes, me too, ‘Arry. I ‘ave not done much of ze cooking ‘ere since I ‘ave come. I would like to learn, but…” Harry put a comforting hand on her back, another trick learned from Tom.
“Well why don’t you and I learn how to maneuver the kitchen this afternoon, then? We can prepare lunch and give Mrs. Weasley a bit of a break. And if we do blow the kitchen up, we can always make sandwiches!” Fleur laughed and her smile once again lit up the room, causing Harry to buckle down on his Occlumency and clear his mind.
“I would like zat, ‘Arry. Oh, you are such a sweet boy.” She bent down, hugged him, and kissed both cheeks.
You know Harry, even without the effects of her Veela charm affecting you, you are starting to enjoy her company a lot more. I definitely think its time to get you started on a girlfriend. Tom reiterated. He’d been saying this all summer to Harry; Harry suspected that Tom had never had one and just wanted to benefit from the feelings that would result too – a little love never hurt anyone except Voldemort.
Harry finished setting the table just as Mrs. Weasley came out with the first of the platters of food. Fleur ran upstairs to wake Bill, leaving Mrs. Weasley alone with Harry.
“So, Harry, I heard from Albus that you convinced Horace Slughorn to come out of retirement.” She began as they both brought out more food.
“Well, I was there, though I really didn’t do much. I think he was looking for an excuse, really.”
“Did you like him?” She asked.
“He seemed nice enough. I could tell he was trying to suck up to me on account of my celebrity, but Professor Dumbledore said that he’s a really good teacher, so I’m glad he accepted, whatever the reason.”
“Oh yes, Horace was always good. And you’re absolutely right about his celebrity. He taught when Arthur and I were in school, though I understand he started teaching just about the same time Professor Dumbledore did,” Harry thought this explained why Dumbledore introduced him as a “friend” and not just a “colleague”, “He always tended to pick out the high flyers, people who’d go far in life, you know. Never had much time for Arthur, but it just goes to show you how wrong people can be. I don’t know if Ron’s told you in his letters, but Arthur’s been promoted! Oh yes, Scrimgeour – much better Minister than Fudge, you know – recognized Arthur’s talent and promoted him first thing! He’s the head of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. Very important position, you know, what with the war going on! All kinds of good-for-nothings coming up with fake charms and protective necklaces and such garbage. And my Arthur’s got to get rid of it all. Oh, it keeps him busy, to be sure – gone early in the morning and working past midnight, most days, but its such a good position we can’t complain.” Mr. Weasley chose this time to come down for breakfast and Harry took the opportunity to take a look at the wizard; he’d not been home for supper last night and Harry supposed he’d already been in bed when he came home. Mr. Weasley certainly looked a little worn-out, from Harry’s perspective. Slight bags were starting to form under his eyes, no doubt from the long days away from home; a tired smile, however, graced his face as he caught sight of Harry.
“Ah, Harry, Molly told me you’d come last night. Good to see you again, and looking so healthy! Those Muggles must have fed you a spot more this year, I think, for you to not look quite so gaunt. I’m glad our little intimidation speech worked!” Arthur said as he shook Harry’s hand.
“Ah, yeah. I kinda told them that Mad-Eye was at the house under an invisibility cloak, and I’d ‘talk’ to him every once in a while, telling him not to pull his wand out and things like that. Uncle Vernon even insisted on a second helping after that, a few times.” Arthur laughed at this, and even Molly smiled – a testament to how much she must have despised those “awful Muggles”.
“Well, I’m so glad, Harry dear. Arthur, I was just telling Harry about your promotion, why don’t you tell him about what it is you’ve been doing?” Molly said, heaping food onto first Arthur’s and then Harry’s plate – ignoring the fact that Harry already had some food on his plate.
“Ah, well, you know, people come up with all sorts of bogus gadgets that are supposed to protect you, you know, during the war. Happened last time too. Terrible, taking advantage of the paranoia like that. Of course, some of them really work, but a lot of it is just rubbish. Just a few nights ago I was dealing with so-called Metamorph Medals – ‘A thousand disguises for just a galleon’ – all they really did was turn your skin orange, I think.” Harry thought that sounded like a pretty good idea, and asked Mr. Weasley about a functional “Metamorph Medal”, “Well, Harry, that’s a tricky bit of Transfiguration, you know. Human transfiguration always is, of course…though I believe you’ll start learning about that this year. Anyway, if you really want a functional one, I’ll keep an eye out while I’m on duty, but don’t get your hopes up.” By Mr. Weasley’s tone, Harry sincerely doubted that he expected to find one.
“You know, Arthur, that thing sounds like exactly the kind of shenanigans that the twins’ would –” Molly began sternly, but Arthur cut her off.
“No, Molly. I’ve told you time and again, the twins’ products really work. They take a lot of pride in their little inventions, and wouldn’t sell them if they didn’t work. They’re good boys, you know that.” Arthur said, placating his wife.
“I’m just so worried about more of that business like with the car, you know, the Prophet calling you a hypocrite and all that. Oh, I just don’t think I could bear it!” Harry actually thought the “Metamorph Medals” did sound like something the twins could develop, and asked Mr. Weasley for the dysfunctional one.
“Sure Harry, here you are. Just don’t turn yourself orange, you know. I heard about your permission for dueling from Molly, too, Harry. I’d love to help you myself, but I’m just too busy what with the Order and the new job. Be careful when you’re practicing, we’d hate to have accidents. Though Molly’s a fair hand and healing, so you be sure to let her check you out when you finish. Ah, look at the time, duty calls, Harry. Love you, Molly dear.” Arthur stood up, grabbed his briefcase, and Disapparated with a sharp crack.
Bill and Fleur came down to breakfast shortly after, both looking a little disheveled – no mystery what took them so long – and Harry excused himself to take a closer look at his Metamorph Medal.
Upstairs, a silent revealing spell – this one only took him three minutes to get off, a marked improvement – showed that the Medal actually was properly enchanted. The wizard who did it, however, wasn’t able to channel enough magic into it to do much except turn slightly orange or possibly lengthen the nose a bit. Harry, however, thought it was something to start with.
Clearing his mind, he thought of the look of the magic in the revealing spell, and brought the effects of the spell to his mind. He focused on the necklace and saw that the magic, while present, was just too small; he brought forth his magic to bear and channeled it through his hand to the necklace. He urged the magic to stay in the medal and fuel the spell present. Tom could do this kind of thing easily; it was similar to the process of possession or making a Horcrux – though that was pushing a soul fragment, not magic, into an object. When Harry felt completely drained, he did another revealing spell on the Medal. This time the magic showed up much more vividly; perhaps he’d succeeded?
Harry slipped the necklace on and stood up in front of the mirror. He imagined himself with the Weasley hair, and before his eyes, his black hair lightened to the familiar Weasley red. Excellent. This could be very useful indeed. Tom commented. Harry decided to see just how far he could go, and focused on his mind’s image of Tom: A middle aged man, taller than Harry, with handsome, aristocratic features, dark eyes; He had well-maintained hair in a classic parted style, with just the edges beginning to gray in a way that accented his features; he had perfect teeth and a roguish grin that could charm anyone. Harry opened his eyes and staring back at him in the mirror was Tom Riddle Junior, or what he would have looked like if he hadn’t torn his very soul asunder. Harry could definitely see him as a Minister of Magic candidate; he definitely looked the part. Amused with his new skill, Harry morphed back into himself and shrunk the Medal to an unnoticeable size under his robe – the magic functioned regardless.
“Harry!” He dropped to the ground as he spun, pulling his wand out from his left sleeve as he did so, only to face Ron, who’d come running in. Ignoring the wand in his face, Ron continued, “There you are mate, I was wondering why you weren’t down at breakfast.” Hermione and Ginny came into the room shortly after Ron, both of them sitting down on his bed. Hmmm…wonder how many times you’ve wanted that to happen, Tom began with a drawl.
“Oh…well, I helped your mum make it, but none of you were down yet, so I decided to wait until you came down to eat myself.” Ginny and Hermione looked at each other and smiled.
“Oh, good, so you don’t get like Ron around her. I’m surprised, but good for you, Harrry. She’s just been so awful that neither Ginny nor I can stand her.” Harry thought it was rather rude to talk about Mrs. Weasley in such a way – especially from Ginny.
“Yeah, always fluttering about – and pops out at you, cor blimey, mate, its annoying.” Ron added. Ginny turned to him with a smirk on her face.
“Oh really, Ron? Because you only ever seem to follow her around like a lost puppy – bit like your fourth year, isn’t it, Hermione?” What the bloody hell are they talking about? Ron doesn’t follow his mum around.
“Er – what are you two talking about? I really haven’t the slightest grasp on the conversation.” Hermione turned to him with a questioning smile, but Ginny was the one to respond.
“Phelgm, Harry. Honestly. Whenever she’s around Ron turns into a drooling moron. Ugh, she’s such a ninny. And you should hear her talk about Bill, too – goes on and on, and I’m sure it’s only for our benefit. Mum feels the same way, but she doesn’t want to be rude.”
“What’s wrong with Fleur? She’s always been nice…” Ginny rolled her eyes while Hermione’s eyes lit up like she figured out a puzzle, and then she got a scowl on her face.
“You like her too, do you? I hadn’t thought so, since you didn’t turn into a blabbering idiot like Ronald over there, but you’re just the same. Is a pretty face all you’re after, Harry?” She rolled her eyes in exasperation and crossed her arms.
“First of all, Fleur is not just a pretty face. She was a Tri-Wizard Tournament Champion, after all. More qualified than all the other girls at Beauxbatons, remember?” Harry couldn’t believe any of them – what did they have against Fleur? Hermione was probably jealous of the way Ron acted around her, he could understand that, but Ginny? And Ron?
“Well she wasn’t a very good Champion, was she Harry? After all, you were only a fourth year and you won the Tournament –” Hermione began, but Harry interrupted, eyes flashing.
“Excuse me, Hermione? You think that she’s just a pretty face because she didn’t perform as well as me in three life-threatening tasks that were set to us? I got lucky in all of those, if you do remember. The magic she performed far outclassed mine in all of the tasks, though I didn’t witness any of it in the Third Task. And does that make me a better wizard? Of course not! Nor am I a better wizard than Krum, and certainly not Cedric! I can’t even believe you would say that! And just for the record, Fleur’s Veela charm has nothing to do with my behavior – the Occlumency I’ve been practicing has assured that. I like her because she’s a nice person! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go eat breakfast.” Harry walked out of the twins’ room into the hallway, leaving behind his friends – none of whom had taken his declaration well. As he turned to head downstairs, to his surprise he saw none other than a teary-eyed Fleur Delacour.
“Thank you, ‘Arry,” Fleur said as she quickly hugged him and continued on to Charlie’s room, where she was staying. The door closed quickly after her. Harry waltzed right back into the room where his friends – who’d seen Fleur rush past the doorway – still stood.
“Well I hope you’re all quite happy with yourselves. Did you ever stop to think of how hard it might be for Fleur to be here with you all, where you don’t even speak her primary language? Or how about being abruptly dropped into your boyfriend’s family, which is probably quite a bit of a culture shock. Ron, you know I love your family, but it was damned awkward for me to come here for the first time and meet all of you. I only became comfortable because you were all so welcoming to me! You treated me like I was a member of the family – why couldn’t you do the same for her?” He waited for their answer. Ginny was the first brave soul to step forward; Harry knew Hermione’s reasoning, or thought he did, but he also knew she wouldn’t say a word in front of Ron.
“We just…we don’t really think Bill’d be happy with her; Mum’s had Tonks over a lot, and we think she’d be loads better…”
“I don’t see why you think so – Fleur’s great. Of course, you’d have to get to know her first to actually know that and be a judge of her character, so I can’t expect that from you, it seems. Hermione, I think I know your reasons,” Hermione paled slightly, hoping he wouldn’t talk about her jealousy in front of the object of her affections, “And Ron, I rather suspect you’re just going along with these two. Well, I’m disappointed in all of you.” He strode out the door – it slammed shut of his magic’s volition, just after he heard Hermione say, “He sounded so grown up…”
Harry decided to go out to the pond – it was still on Weasley property, so he wasn’t violating his oath to Dumbledore, though he rather thought fondly of taken out his frustration at his friends on a nearby Death Eater – was chucking stones across it. Truthfully, he immediately found throwing the stones unsatisfying, and was now wandlessly banishing them rather forcefully. Another stone shot up like a bullet and hit the far shore; he’d been overshooting for almost ten minutes.
Have they always been like that, Tom? Petty, jealous, superficial? Fleur did nothing to them, and they ridicule her just because they don’t know that she’s a nice person, and judge her for being too pretty? Was I like that too? Have I changed so much from having this new knowledge in my head, having you in my head? Harry wondered.
Well, Harry, I’m rather inclined to think you haven’t changed much at all. You still have a temper, after all. Now, it’s all well and good to be mad at your friends for doing what they did – both you and I know the adverse effects of cruel teasing, after all – but that’s not why you’re mad. You’re scared, Harry. That’s okay, there is nothing wrong with fear. Tom’s words hit deep. Harry knew he couldn’t have been that mad at his friends, even if they did hurt Fleur.
Tom…how can I pretend to be like them when I’m not? I don’t want to be alone and friendless at school. But everything’s so different, it feels so different. Their behavior seemed so stupidly childish. Why would I want to be like that, how could I be like that…I’m going to lose them, Tom. We’re going to drift apart and I’m not going to have any friends until I’m sixty like you and they get more mature. Tom listened to his rant, but didn’t reply as he and Harry noticed Hermione approach.
“Harry – wow, good arm, by the way – I just wanted to tell you how sorry we were. You were definitely right, we were being so stupid. We all went and apologized to Fleur…we were hoping you’d come in and breakfast with us?” Hermione looked quite sheepish as she looked up hopefully at Harry.
“Of course, Hermione. And I’m sorry I blew up like that…I was right, but I certainly shouldn’t have gotten so angry at you all. Forgive me?” Hermione responded by wrapping him in a tight hug, which he gladly returned. “And Hermione? He’s crazy about you, you know, even if he’s too daft to know it. You don’t have to worry about some other girl; trust me, he’ll come around eventually.” He flashed her one of his “Tom Riddle” smiles and she wrapped one arm around his shoulders as she led him back up to the house.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Harry.” She said coyly with a smile. Tom took this time to utter an, I told you so, and reassured Harry that he wouldn’t immediately lose all his friends.
An hour later found the four students back at the edge of the pond; this time Fleur joined them as Harry’s dueling partner for his first session. Harry fingered his wand nervously, as he nodded to Fleur to shoot her first spell.
Alright, Harry, now first thing identify the spell – probably cast in French – and respond with the proper counter curse or shield; no need to overestimate the needed shield, but don’t underestimate either. Fleur shouted in French and a red bolt of light shot out of her wand. Harry was about to shout, “Protego!” when Tom interrupted with No Harry, use Fortis Aegis, you aren’t sure how much powe – Tom was never able to finish his thought as the red curse hit Harry and he flew back, hit dead on by the stunner.
He awoke on his back surrounded by the concerned faces of his friends. “Bloody hell, mate, are you practicing how to get hit proper or what?” After seeing he was okay, his friends smiled and laughed at what had happened; it was the first time that Harry was knocked out so quickly, even in the many D.A. meetings.
“Right, sorry about that my mind was a little scatterbrained.” Tom, I appreciate your advice but maybe your timing is less than appropriate? “Let’s try again, right Fleur?” This time Fleur let out a half-hearted red spell that Harry immediately sidestepped and, before it had even reached him, he said, “Impedimenta! Stupefy!” Both curses hit Fleur, who then had to be revived by Harry. He helped her up, smiling, and said, “You know, that first time really was a fluke, you don’t have to pull the punches for me.” She rolled her eyes and their practice began in earnest. Truthfully, she wasn’t terrible at dueling, certainly better than almost any of the D.A. members, even the N.E.W.T. students, when they’d started. Harry found that as long as Tom kept his criticisms to himself when the spells were flying, except for sending the occasional idea for the next spell into Harry’s mind – purely to keep his arsenal from getting boring, of course – then Harry could defeat Fleur pretty handily. He noticed a marked increase in the power of his spells since he’d last let loose at the Ministry – Tom took all the credit for that, having forced him to practice – and a definite increase in his repertoire, even if he wasn’t sending Bone Shattering Curses at Fleur unless she could easily dodge them. Only a few times had he sent any nonverbal incantations; he decided to ease them into his arsenal slowly in front of his friends, even if he found the method of casting to be fairly easy, not to mention significantly faster than verbal incantations.
After about an hour of dueling – Harry had to resort to amusing himself after the first few successful bouts, and toyed with Fleur a bit before disarming or stunning her, which included summoning a significant quantity of water from the pond, “missing” Fleur with several cutting hexes that happened to hit branches of the trees behind her, which he transfigured into vines to hold her down, and several other fun tricks – Harry and Fleur finished with the day’s practice. He’d had to stop himself from attempting complex animations of the tree behind her; such magic was, after all, far beyond N.E.W.T. work. If Tom hadn’t been a Transfiguration Master to rival Dumbledore himself – evidence included Voldemort’s work turning Dumbeldore’s fire whip to a snake back in the Ministry – then Harry certainly would have never even thought of it. Harry was, indeed, anxious to begin work in Professor McGonagall’s class; even with only the new focus provided by his Occlumency, he knew he’d see amazing improvement in that class.
“Hey Harry, why don’t the rest of us join Fleur in getting wet and hop in the pond for a bit?” Ginny asked. Fleur thought that a marvelous idea.
“Oh yes! Zat is a fantasteek idea.” Fleur waved her wand over herself, transfiguring her clothes into a small silver bikini. Ron’s eyes glazed over and his mouth opened slightly in a goofy smile. Hermione glared, first at Ron and then at Fleur, while Harry cleared his mind to shake off the pretty Veela’s effect, shook his head at Ron’s behavior, and stripped off his shirt. Leaving his shoes, shirt, and wand on the shore, he dove into the pond in his shorts. The girls, apparently, were more prepared than Harry, for they had both worn their swimsuits underneath their clothes. Both of them hopped in to join Harry in the pond; Harry promptly used a bit of wandless magic to splash them with a lot more water than he should have been able to, and grinned at the sopping girls. Ron was still staring at Fleur, who was lying on the beach tanning, which Hermione noticed.
“Oh honestly Ronald, you act like you’ve never seen a girl in a bikini before!” She started hotly. The sound of her voice shook him from his stupor, and he at least had the good grace to look embarrassed at his behavior. He stripped to his swimsuit and jumped in with the rest of them.
“Well, Hermione, Mr. Weasley said that Veela more strongly affect teenaged males due to our imbalanced hormones, so you can’t really blame Ron. Plus, I tend to suspect that a Veela’s charm is proportional to the amount of skin shown…and Fleur’s bikini is rather small…” Harry began. Hermione turned her glare to him.
“Oh, and I suppose the fact that you aren’t drooling all over her is just more proof for your theory, then?” She asked venomously. Harry smiled sadly and hugged his best friend – Tom coughed rather obviously to draw attention to himself when Harry noted the fact that he rather enjoyed hugging Hermione, but Harry couldn’t control his hormones that well either. He whispered, “I know its hard, Hermione, but he can’t help it; that Occlumency training is the only thing preventing me from acting the same way. Trust me, the fact that you were able to draw his attention away from her is proof that he’s crazy about you.” Hermione did seem to lose her steam here, and smiled a bit at Harry. Ron, making his way over to them, seemed significantly more upset than he had just a moment before; Harry rolled his eyes – if his friends kept their behavior up, he was in for a long year indeed.
“Well, you two seem awful friendly, Harry.” Ron said in a fairly cold voice. Harry fought against the urge to roll his eyes and merely smiled and replied, “Well why shouldn’t we be? She looked like she needed a hug.” Harry moved over to Ginny, who realized what he was doing and quirked her eyebrow before she broke out in a little smile and jumped into Harry’s awaiting arms. Harry started to blush a little with her very enthusiastic embrace. After the hug, at which Hermione seemed to have no amount of contained mirth at and a knowing smile in the direction of Ginny.
Why do I smell a setup from Hermione? Tom questioned. Harry responded, She probably got it into her mind somehow that I need a good woman in my life and took things into her own hands by planting the idea in Ginny’s mind. Or Ginny never really got over her crush over me and told Hermione about it. Hmmm…
After a fun time in the pond, the four of them spent the afternoon playing Quidditch. Harry mentioned in passing the variety of available positions on the Gryffindor team – two beaters, two chasers, and a keeper – and noticed that both Ginny and Ron stuck to a Chaser and Keeper position, respectively, for the rest of the evening. And both of them were quite good at those respective positions. Harry, Hermione, and Ginny all took turns shooting at Ron, who held off all of Harry and Hermione’s shots, but could only stop half of Ginny’s. Content with the enjoyable day, hopefully indicative of the rest of his summer, they all returned to the Burrow for the evening.
Harry awoke as he was thrown bodily from his bed to the ceiling, bouncing off the wall as fell down. Spinning angrily, he let loose a spread of silent Flinging Hexes himself before identifying his opponent. Taking Tom’s advice and rolling to a new position while his attacker was hopefully dazed. He had no such luck, however, and was forced to dodge a jet of red light – he thought that was a Disarming spell, but could have been a stunner. Diving behind his bed for some cover, he decided it was time to up the ante a bit, and shouted, “Ossus Fragmen”, and a yellow light shot out of his wand. He heard a surprised yelp of pain and let loose a blistering stream of nonverbal disarming and stunning spells. When he heard a dull ‘thud’ that sounded like a body hitting the ground, he let out a moan – his shoulder was either broken or dislocated when he hit the wall, and he’d knocked his head on the ceiling so that, now that he concentrated, he realized there were black spots in his vision.
Neither thinking nor realizing that the commotion had attracted an audience, he muttered several of the minor healing charms Tom knew to get rid of his concussion and sore shoulder, rolling it when he’d finished.
“Bloody hell, Harry, you knocked out Mad-Eye!” Ron exclaimed. Harry was actually fairly surprised at this – the venerable auror was one of the few that Tom had a grudging respect for. Mad-Eye had taken down some of Tom’s most skilled and volatile Death Eaters, often single-handedly. Harry knew that Mad-Eye had only underestimated him and not expected him to sleep with his wand. Mrs. Weasley hurried up to revive Moody, who sat up with a feral grin and lazily waved his wand over his fractured left femur.
“Well, well, well, Potter. I see you’ve some spirit after all. But no perimeter charm – you should’ve woken up the second I Apparated onto the property! And not even any type of security on your door, are you looking to die, Potter? Tonks told me about Albus’ permission for you to duel, so here I am. I’ve got little to do for the rest of the summer – just finished a mission and Albus thinks I need some recovery time. I think he might be right if the likes of you got the better of me…nice curse, by the way – if you’d have aimed it proper and hit my back, I might not be walking just yet. We’ll be fixing yer aim, first, to be sure. Well what are you waiting for, Potter, get up and outside already!” He hobbled away, leaving a rather flabbergasted Weasley family, all in their pajamas, and Harry.
“He’s a lunatic!” Harry said under his breath; he got no correction from any of his observers. When he hurried down the stairs, having pulled on a pair of jeans and in the process of buttoning his shirt, he was shocked to hit with a curse that knocked him down, upside down, and sent him the rest of the way down the stairs headfirst.
“You think a Death Eater is going to hit you at an opportune time once you’re ready to duel him, Potter? We’ll rid you of your naivety yet, boy!” Moody proclaimed. Harry groaned as he once again stopped a splitting headache by healing his head, and set off after Moody.
All morning he dodged curse after curse, which Moody thought a fine skill to learn at the end of his own wand. While cursing Harry nonverbally, Moody would lecture the boy and critique him rather sharply, much to the enjoyment of his observers. At first it was only Hermione, Ginny, and Ron – all of whom thought it tremendously funny – but they were soon joined by Fleur, the twins, Lupin, and Tonks. The spectacle was considerably less funny when Moody decided the observers needed an object lesson too and nearly immolated Ron with a well-placed Incendio on his robes.
Moody’s first break was for lunch, which, after a morning of scowling faces and harsh criticism, he surprised everyone by smiling widely and kindly thanking Mrs. Weasley graciously. Ron merely whimpered, “Bloody mad, he is.” Tom remarked several times that Barty Crouch’s imitation of the auror didn’t quite capture the insanity. Harry, dripping with sweat after the aerobic morning, silently shoveled in as much food as Ron in an attempt to replenish his energy.
After lunch was Moody’s work on Harry’s magical shielding, with which he was pleasantly surprised. Of course, his initial grin at Harry’s knowledge of auror-level shields turned into scowls as he ruthlessly battered them down time and again. Moody pronounced his work finished after three high-powered Reductor curses battered down Harry’s Aegis shield and sent him flying through the kitchen window of the Burrow. He fixed the broken window, nodded to Molly, and hobbled to the edge of the Burrow’s wards, whistling, proclaiming that he’d return in two days. Remus carried Harry up to his bed after reassuring a concerned Ginny that Harry would be fine.
Harry awoke the next morning, about thirteen hours later, to find Remus smiling at him. “Hello Harry, have a good bit of a rest?”
“Remus. I think I’m dying. Sore all over. Ugh.” Harry moaned pitifully. He heard a giggle from the doorway and cracked his eye open to see a pretty redhead standing there with what appeared to be breakfast.
“Here you go, mister dueling master.” Ginny said with a smirk, sitting near his stomach. He gave her a wry grin and began nibbling some toast.
“Hey Remus, can you do a few healing spells for me? I feel terrible.” He noticed that Ginny was rubbing his back in a comforting way and he decided that her delicate hands soothing his weary back muscles felt better than anything he’d ever experienced.
“Unfortunately, Harry, I’m under strict instructions from both Tonks and Moody – magical healing will only reverse the damage and prevent muscle growth. Mad-Eye expects to get you used to this workout, and that can only occur if I don’t heal you. I can, however, numb you up a bit.” Remus did so and Harry sighed in comfort, able to eat slightly more now.
“Did I hear my name being called?” Tonks popped in with a brilliant smiled on her face; her hair was a brilliant blue and the tearstains so evident on her face a few days ago were totally gone. Harry and greeted her with a, “Wotcher.” Tonks surveyed the spectacle of Harry and Ginny on his bed and, with a knowing smile, replied, “’Lo there, loverboy. Speaking of…” Harry blushed, but it faded into a grin as she turned to Remus, who’d returned to his seat, jumped in his lap and forcefully pulled him by his shirt into a long, slow kiss. When they broke, she ‘cooed’ in a satisfied manner and he had a dopey grin on his face.
“I guess I’ve you to thank for that, eh, Harry? I heard you had quite the talk with my little Remy here – you little matchmaker. And here I figured you wanted me for yourself…not that you don’t obviously have a willing harem of young girls here waiting to jump into bed with you.” She smirked again at Ginny, who’d blushed furiously and jumped away from Harry – much to his disappointment at the loss of her wonderful fingertips.
“Anyway, Remy and I are here to square up with you – I believe you have at least two duels with us as part of an agreement with the old boy.” She seemed to glance at Remus when she mentioned her ‘old’ comment as though to warn him against stupidity.
“Ugh…maybe later, when I don’t feel postmortem. Try a few weeks from now.” Harry continued eating his breakfast.
“Oh come on, Harry, its you and me taking free shots against Remus as Round One.” Tonks whined.
“Free shots? I thought it was a duel.” Tonks turned to him with her eyes narrowed and hair turned a shade of red, making her into a scary imitation of Mrs. Weasley.
“I say its free shots, wolfie. Are you really in a position to get a better deal out of me?” He kissed her cheek and said, “Free shots, of course, my dear.”
“Good boy. I’ll have you trained yet!” Her hair shifted to a bubblegum pink as she clutched Remus arm, and Harry could only smile at their antics. If ever two people deserved happiness, it was certainly these two; and if he’d given them a slight nudge in the right direction, it only made him feel even better about the whole thing. Continuing to eat the breakfast Ginny’d brought up as the four of them settled into casual conversation, Harry only perked up when Tonks mentioned Mad-Eye.
“I don’t know what happened yesterday, Harry, but when I talked to Moody last night, he was nearly giddy. He said he surprised you by waking you up with a Flinging Hex, and you ended up knocking him out. Seriously, if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was in love!” Harry had to stop himself from choking on his food as he erupted into laughter. Harry finished breakfast and they all headed downstairs, Tonks tripping over the top of them forcing Remus to catch her; Harry quickly changed and joined them as they headed outside.
Tonks had on a serious face as she and Harry faced off against Remus. She crossed the distance, kissed him hard for a few seconds, then started whispering in his ear; kissing him again, she headed back to Harry.
“My turn?” She cuffed him over the head as he continued, “So what’d you say to him?” She smiled at the remembrance.
“I told him that if he cursed either of us, he’d be sleeping on the couch again tonight. If we got to curse him, then I’d…nurse him back to health. Any more details will have to wait until you’re older.” He smiled and nodded, drawing his wand. Both of them turned to Remus with hard looks on their faces, causing him to gulp slightly, eliciting cheers from the large audience – Molly, Fleur, and the twins had joined the younger crowd to watch Remus get his due.
Tonks started out by flipping Remus upside down, while Harry smirked and did a bit of complex transfiguration Tom knew to turn his hair a neon green reminiscent of something Tonks would wear. Laughing at Harry’s idea, Tonks turned his robes purple with green polka dots to match his hair. His skin then turned orange, his robe turned into a full-length gown, he grew large, exaggerated breasts to fill said gown, and his hair lengthened and shaped into braided pigtails. Tonks let him down with a satisfied cackle as she and Harry bowed to applause.
“Alright, Harry, now its time that you faced off against both of us.” Remus said after Tonks hugged and kissed him again. Harry, determined to show that all of Moody’s efforts the previous day weren’t wasted.
Remus and Tonks simultaneously shot off spells, so Harry lazily put up a wandless Protego shield and shot off Flinging Hexes at both of them. Rolling to avoid their next salvo of curses, Harry called out “Avis” with several silent repetitions of the spell to conjure up a large flock of birds; a silent Oppugno and the birds began to dive bomb and peck his opponents. In a bit more complex animation, another group of birds began to fly around him with orders to intercept any curses that made it past his defenses. Seeing that Tonks was getting angry at the birds and focused on them, he audibly sent off a bludgeoning hex at her – the solid impact sent her flying to the ground with a groan. However, he’d temporary let his attention on Remus flag, so one of his birds swept down quickly to intercept his spell. Harry set up a shield to block the next batch of curses sent his way by the angry auror, and returned a spread of disarming and stunning spells.
“Coepio” “Expulso” It seemed that Remus and Nymphadora were getting frustrated by him, since those were curses that might actually hurt if he let them hit him; a silent Absolvo shield ensured that both were stopped, though Remus’ powerful Blasting Curse nearly knocked him down despite the shield. Harry shot back two silent Reducto curses – one caused Remus to yelp as it grazed his left arm – but his two opponents anticipated his dodging of their next curses and nailed him. Tonks’ Reductor curse ended all of his remaining bird protectors in several ‘poofs’ of feathers and Remus’ powerful Bludgeoning Hex hit him soundly in his sternum, causing an audible ‘crack’. On his knees after that round with tears in his eyes, Harry was able to gasp, “Incendus Ventus” and a massive ball of fire appeared and sailed towards the two on a sharp gust of wind. They both avoided the brunt of the curse – which ignited a tree – and went over to Harry, who was curled up on his knees.
“Hey Harry, great duel – are you alright? We kinda hit you with some real nice curses.” Tonks said brightly as she extinguished her robe. Remus gently fixed the multiple fractures in his sternum and helped him to his feet.
“Yeah, it was fun, I’ll be sure to square off against aurors and Defense teachers again real soon…” He said sharply, the pain in his chest not entirely healed. Remus chuckled at him.
“Ah, but look how wonderfully you held both of us off; really, Harry, that was fantastic, you kept both of us on our toes. I think if we’d really been enemies after your blood and you used some stronger curses, we might not have gotten the chance to hit you.” They all went back in the house as everyone was describing their duel in excited tones, reminiscing about particularly creative spells – Hermione just loved Harry’s use of birds as an extra layer of defense, while Ron still liked Remus’ hair color alteration. Though he’d managed to reverse the rest of the changes by now, he hadn’t expected Harry to use such competent transfiguration, and didn’t yet understand how Harry’s color changing charm was so resilient. Harry was hardly able to get through lunch without glancing at Remus' hair and chuckling.
After lunch, Remus and Tonks left the Burrow - likely to catch up on "neglected relationship duties", as Tonks insinuated with a smile and a wink. This left the entire afternoon and evening free for more Quidditch, which ended when Ron lay exhausted from constant Quaffle-tossing. Hermione insisted that he showed loads of improvement over yesterday, praise that reddened Ron and began a quiet conversation between the two, leaving Harry to complement Ginny's Chasing skills and Ginny to truthfully tell him that he should stick to the Snitch. Harry made sure to tie a warning alarm into the property's wards that night, in addition to a perimeter charm and a few solid locking spells on the door in preparation for Moody the next morning.
Instead of setting off the alarms by an attempted murder on Harry, once Harry'd gotten up from Moody crossing the wards and quickly dressed, he found the auror in comfortable conversation with Molly over a morning tea. He got an evil smile on his face at the sight of Harry, and made his excuses to Molly when he motioned for the door.
"Well, I heard you had quite a fun time with Lupin and Tonks. I also heard you lost. Why?" Harry expected that Moody had already gone over every aspect of his performance in a pensieve or something, so he used Tom's assessment and critique of his duel to satisfy Moody. "My aim was bad on almost all of the curses, as I concentrated too much on moving around instead of relying on shields to block the curses they could. I had a good idea using summoned birds as a defense barrier, but when I lost focus Tonks destroyed them with a Reductor curse and so I got hit by Remus' Bludgeoner." Moody nodded seriously.
"Aye, an apt summary. Good to know you pay attention when you're fighting. Learn from your mistakes, Harry, and you'll show more improvement than I can force down your throat." Harry smiled when he realized that he'd used his first name instead of a harsh, "Potter". It seemed that the auror was indeed impressed with his performance.
"Today we'll be doing more defensive work - get you used to having spells flung at you. First, instead of birds, conjure up something that might actually protect against a damaging curse - Death Eaters won't throw stunners at you! Now give me some marble." Ignoring the fact that conjuring was N.E.W.T. work, and that a tough rock like marble was even more difficult to conjure, Harry searched Tom's knowledge and was able to conjure up a small ball of marble.
"Good, now with a few levitation spells and that same animation you used on the birds, you'll be surrounded by chunks of marble instead of bags of feathers. Good thing about marble is that it'll go to dust when hit by a Reductor; its my rock of choice, though others use granite or concrete to similar effect. Let's see it at work, then." Harry conjured up several more chunks of granite and animated them in a similar fashion to the birds, and was pelted by Moody's Reductor curses, until he moved on to several more destructive Blasting Curses. After lunch Moody resumed Harry's dodging exercises, and for a while after dinner, while everyone else played Quidditch, Harry got a defensive spell combination exercise where he dodged, shielded, or conjured up marble to block curse after curse. Harry hit his bed unconscious that night after his longest and most painful day yet.
The following day, after several attempts at wandless numbing charms that finally paid off, Harry took it easy and spent the day inside reading a few of Hermione's new Arithmancy books, which detailed several new developments that Tom added to his vast knowledge. Harry also began work on something Tom had pestered him about almost from day one - a modified stunning curse that could only be lifted by Harry. Of course, it could possibly be considered slightly dark magic - since, without being revived, the victim might live forever in a coma, but Harry thought it infinitely better than, for instance, shooting a Killing Curse to keep his opponents down. While Ginny glanced down at the pages of complex numbers and calculations, gave Harry an inquisitive look, and smiled at him, he knew that he'd have to hide the work from Hermione because he couldn't have explained the sudden advanced Arithmancy work. Perhaps he could pretend that he'd found it somewhere and show it to her for her to "figure out what it does". It was also on this day that Tom decided to share something with Harry.
You know, Harry, you may benefit from having some of Voldemort's memories. He fought many duels, and much of your training would...go more quickly...if you had access to them. They might provide you with better instincts, quick thinking, the touch of experience, if you will. Though, of course, the memories are generally terrible and involve the death of the aurors and sometimes Death Eaters.
I think that's a good idea, Tom. I need to accelerate the training in any way that I can, even if it means reliving your memories. As long as there are no torture scenes, I should be able to stomach it.
Harry was immediately flooded with so many memories that he couldn't even fight the blackness that enveloped him, causing him to "nap" on the armchair.
"Is this the best that Dumbledore can send? Two young fools looking for glory?" Harry snarled as he let loose a Rupturing Curse. It was a favorite of his new Death Eater Dolohov, and he appreciated the suffering it caused. Dolohov himself lay unconscious, victim's of the damnable Prewitt brothers that he would now kill himself. His purple spell hit the red-haired Order member squarely in the chest, and he dropped as Harry cackled with malice. His twin brother, and indeed the two of them could easily be mistaken for Fred and George in a few years, cried out, "No, Gid!!" and let loose a furious barrage of curses that Voldemort batted aside easily. Finally, the distraught Prewitt, for Harry was fairly certain that these were Molly's twin brothers, let loose a "Crucio" that penetrated Voldemort's shield. Thinking about the identity of the victims allowed Harry to separate the actions of Voldemort from himself and not feel guilty about killing Molly's brothers. Voldemort merely laughed after he arose from the ground, apparently unphased by Fabian's curse. He kicked the leg of another fallen Death Eater - four of them on the ground! They needed more training - and advanced upon the lone brother.
"Oh my, a Cruciatus! That almost tickled, even! Whatever would your exalted leader think, my dear Fabian? Or your dear brother Gideon? I think he would be disappointed."
"Shut up you monster! I'll kill you!" Fabian threw another Crucio that Voldemort handily sidestepped while Voldemort taunted, "Fabian, let me fill you in on a little secret. You're using righteous anger to fuel a Dark curse - it just doesn't work that way. You need hatred - burning, raw, vile hatred - to fuel that curse. You need to want to see me writhe in agony, needles burning every inch of me, slowly driving me out of my mind in agony to really get good effects with the Cruciatus. Here, allow me to demonstrate for you!" Voldemort quickly whipped the curse, and Fabian fell on the ground as he writhed in agony and screamed himself hoarse. Voldemort held the curse for nearly twenty seconds. Fabian, his muscles still giving an occasional spasm from the aftermath of the terrible curse, struggled to get up.
"You see, Fabian, how kind I am to teach you such valuable skills before I kill you? After all, that Cruciatus could just as easily have been an 'Avada Kedavra'. Like this one." Voldemort sent a sickly green jet of light towards the recovering brother and Fabian fell, lifeless. Voldemort smirked in his success, while Harry just felt sick.
The scene shifted and Harry found himself a month prior to the previous scene as Voldemort, disillusioned and hidden so that he might critique the skills of his Death Eaters. While he rarely found himself on raids these days, he often would accompany his oblivious Death Eaters so that he could see which ones deserved the honored Inner Circle positions. Young Barty Crouch was promising until today, but the battle had gone poorly for the boy - and indeed, he had only just come of age recently - and he was now unconscious courtesy of that annoying Rufus Scrimgeour, partner to that loathsome Moody. Harry, focused on Moody and the new Minister, Scrimgeour, was able to separate his consciousness from Voldemort's.
"Avada Kedavra" Voldemort knew it was Lucius who was throwing the curse; useful in the political arena, Lucius had not the flair for dueling that Dolohov did - he tended to stick with Unforgivables. Moody easily dodged the curse - he was repulsively agile - and flung a barrage of nonverbal spells back at Lucius, who got away with only a nick on his shoulder from a stray Cutting Curse. Moody turned once again to batter away a few of the sinister bats that Rookwood had transfigured and animated, and was hit in the shoulder by Rosier, which knocked him off his feet. As he spun from the force of the curse, he somehow shot Rookwood in the face, dropping him like a stone. Voldemort silently applauded the older auror for a nice shot.
"Come on Scrimmy, you are getting a bit slow in your old age!" Dolohov, the taunting fool, said slickly. He sent off another Rupturing Curse, a very nice piece of Dark Magic at the Master Auror - next in line for Head Auror, Voldemort suspected - who dodged handily and returned fire. Malfoy, ever switching between Scrimgeour and Moody, stepped over the body of some junior auror they'd killed minutes ago and set up a shot on Scrimgeour.
Mad-Eye Moody's scream as he clutched his face - was that half of his nose gone? - was quite satisfying, but his retaliatory "Confringo" that blasted through Rosier's body - corpse, now - and sent limbs and blood flying was less than desired. Oh well, Rosier was only a few years out of Hogwarts anyway - same year as that new Potions Master, Severus, who he was friends with. He would be easy to replace. Moody turned to Scrimgeour just in time to see Dolohov's favorite curse - a nonverbal Rupturing Curse - drop him. A pity about the nonverbal; Dolohov was never very talented with nonverbal casting and it likely wouldn't kill Scrimgeour. As Malfoy and Dolohov turned to the lone standing auror, the door burst open - obviously Rookwood hadn't had time to properly secure the door, the fool - and five more aurors came bounding in. Voldemort saw fear in the eyes of his remaining Death Eaters, and so he bounded in like a great force of malice to duel the lot of them. Two dropped from green lights he shot out until the others screamed in terror - such a satisfying sound, really - and attempted to stun him.
Voldemort brushed off the curses like the annoyances they were and knocked the three out with a single Blasting curse that likely rattled their brains.
"My Death Eaters, we are done here!" Voldemort shot a curse at Moody to keep him out of the way and they all activated their portkeys back to Malfoy Manor, temporary headquarters. Rookwood would survive, but Rosier's corpse was left to Moody; no use wasting a portkey on a body, after all.
The scene shifted again and again, playing out duels that resulted in the deaths of several Order members and aurors. Finally, Harry came upon one of Voldemort's defining moments - the first attack on Hogwarts, where he first learned why he was afraid of Albus Dumbledore.
"Send your minions back, Tom." Dumbledore said with no fear - how dare the old man be so relaxed in his presence!
"I am Lord Voldemort, old man - you'd do well to remember that! My Death Eaters are even now destroying those Mudbloods you teach, and I have come to end your life!" Harry snarled evilly at his nemesis, circling him like a great cat around his prey. Dumbledore, ever the ignorant rabbit, didn't seem to notice.
"I see you seem more confident in your skills now, Tom. I heard awful rumors about you relying on some marvelous cloak for quite some time. It was quite the joke around the auror's office." Dumbledore smiled; he was ridiculing me! Oh, he would pay like few others!
"You are delusional, Dumbledore - I am the greatest sorcerer this world has ever seen, and I need no artifacts to destroy you!" Tom sent off a Cruciatus curse at the old man; he merely stepped to the side, seemingly amused.
"Ah, but I'll always remember the little boy who was oh so delighted to realize that those odd things happening around him didn't make him deserve the ridicule of the other children at his orphanage, Tom. Old teachers are like that, as I believe I've mentioned." Dumbledore mused.
"That name has no meaning to me - I am Lord Voldemort!" Voldemort roared as the ground around him rose up in a show of magical might.
"As you wish, Tom." Dumbledore jumped high into the air - Voldemort suspected a featherweight charm - and spun, sending curses towards Tom in an arc. Voldemort attempted to bat one away impudently, but it was much more difficult than he thought - that foolish old man wasn't as weak as he expected! He was forced to dive out of the way embarrassingly to avoid Dumbledore's second wave of spells. The Transfiguration Master had transfigured broken chunks of rock from Tom's pedestal into dogs and cats that he'd animated to run around the two combatants. Pretty display, but he was no match for the sheer power of Lord Voldemort.
"Avada Kedavra!" Tom shouted as the green light lunged toward his opponent. Just as Tom tasted the victory and the green light exploded, several spells shot in Tom's direction, impacting his chest and gouging his leg painfully. How the Headmaster survive his Killing Curse?! And there, Tom saw it, the damnable cat lying still on the grass in front of a smirking Dumbledore. Lord Voldemort's power wasted on a cat? How humiliating! Drawing on his anger, he summoned forth, "Fiendfyre" and a basilisk of flame erupted from his wand and slithered quickly towards the Headmaster. Dumbledore calmly said, "Aqua Eructo" and a Phoenix emerged from the nearby lake and pummeled his basilisk of fire, shooting steam as the water and fire eliminated each other. Voldemort scowled - the old man was good, as well he knew. No wonder he never trusted Voldemort, even when he was just a boy.
Tom's Death Eaters, who'd initially overrun the school children on the streets of Hogsmeade, were now being held back. The defenders were led by two older boys with jet black hair, one of them the spitting image of his school rival Orion Black, who'd made his first year miserable until Tom learned on his honored heritage. Traitorous branch of the family, although several of his Death Eaters were of the other branches of the family. A flame-haired girl, quite beautiful and seemingly skilled - must be a blood traitor Weasley, for surely no Mudblood could stand against his followers, though Weasleys weren't much better. And lastly, a brown haired, plain looking boy with an impressive spell repertoire. Hmmm. Another boy was unconscious near the Black, probably a Mudblood friend of his. Filth.
Dumbledore noted Tom's distraction and conjured a fire whip that surrounded his former student. He turned it to ice quickly, forming a tightly bound prison. Tom narrowed his eyes and turned the ice ropes into a slithering black snake, and with a hiss sent it to attack Dumbledore. Dumbledore merely perched an eyebrow as the monster lunged at him, and with a wave of his wand it erupted into a stream of butterflies that flew off away from him.
"It appears that your forces are being held back by a few of my students, Tom. Ah yes, the proud Gryffindor seventh years." Albus said, noting Tom's attention to the Battle of Hogsmeade.
"Then they will all die by my hand, you meddlesome fool! No one dares stand against Lord Voldemort." Voldemort shot a Cruciatus and a powerful Bludgeoning Hex at Dumbledore. Sidestepping the Cruciatus, Dumbledore grunted as the Bludgeoning Hex threw out his shoulder, but retaliated with a series of curses that nailed Tom, who hadn't expected them. His left hand severed - not permanently, just a simple Diffindo spell - and his mouth likely broken from the direct hit that temporarily dazed him, he sent off one last "Avada Kedavra" at the old man on the ground and gave the signal for his Death Eaters to retreat, their mission of mayhem and slaughter complete, but not as successful as Tom would have liked. He narrowed his eyes as he saw Dumbledore's phoenix Fawkes swoop in to protect his Master from the deadly curse just before Tom was whisked away.
More and more scenes erupted before Harry's eyes, going back further and further as Voldemort went from a feared terrorist to an murderer featured occasionally as a mysterious figure. The aurors no longer had looks of fear in their eyes when Voldemort revealed himself, and instead hadn't even heard of him. Finally, Harry came to view the first deadly duel that Voldemort ever fought on British soil.
He'd been gathering and training his Death Eaters for months now, and the first part of their mission was a success - sneak into some Muggle school and kill the filth, easy. Now, Voldemort began to implement the part of the plan that would put the fear of the unknown into the Wizarding World. He would attack the investigating Aurors.
He knew he'd had little practice fighting the type of skilled opponents he was likely to run into. He knew he was powerful, of course, he was the Heir of Slytherin!, but untrained. All of his Death Eaters were schoolboys with an interest in Dark Magic, not fighters. But he had a trick up his sleeve. His robe, just a piece of cloth - though he longed for one made of better, more inherently magical materials, he'd bought from Madam Malkin's, bore heavy enchantments. Modified from all sorts of protection charms, the robes were an extra layer of defense that no other wizard possessed - sheer proof of his brilliance! It was an Arithmentical nightmare, altering the spells, but he'd succeeded after years of work. And now, his cloak completed along with several Horcruxes, he knew that he was totally invincible. True, he wished he didn't need to rely on such a garment - Salazar Slytherin, his great ancestor, after all - didn't need such an artifact to be a great wizard. But he was scared - what if his Horcruxes didn't work? He couldn't die, just another nobody, his legacy a few plaques in a school in Scotland. He would live forever, and this cloak was just...a security blanket. And once he got more experience, he would shed the security blanket and show his foes that he was also the greatest sorcerer even without his many resources.
But now, he watched the aurors. He had only two Death Eaters with him - trusted lackeys from his school days. Nott and Avery were his best duelists; Mulciber was a close third, but he had too many under his skilled Imperious Curse to lose if he was killed. Avery, particularly, was expendable, for Voldemort never liked the disagreeable child even when he was known as Tom Riddle.
"Bloody monsters did this, I say. And did you see that skull outside, with the snake? Bright green, in the middle of a Muggle neighborhood. Prophet'll have a field day about the irresponsible DMLE. Ruddy pack of Rumormongerers. Benjy, Amelia, you two document this scene. I know its grisly, but the sooner we can clean it up and get back to the Ministry. Crouch'll be cross; that's 15 Muggles killed in Possibly Magical Circumstances this month! It'll be a record." The recognition that this was a young, unscarred Moody shook Harry from Voldemort's consciousness and he watched the attack. Voldemort thought to surprise the veteran auror - who'd seen combat towards the end of Grindelwald's war, Harry knew - but didn't count on his Constant Vigilence!
As Voldemort's favorite color erupted from his wand, Moody dove frantically out of the way of the curse, avoiding it by centimeters. "Benjy, Amelia, killers still present, repeat, building not secure - it's a trap!" Moody began tossing curses in the direction of his attacker. He heard noise from elsewhere in the house and knew that his Death Eaters had sprung. Avery had gone after the woman - he always liked to have his fun - and Nott the young auror. Voldemort knew from observations that the two were involved, and he considered letting the boy watch as Avery had his fun. His attention was drawn, however, to the skilled Master Auror with which he was dueling.
The room exploding around him as Blasting Curses sent by Moody - he thought they were Blasting Curses, anyway - destroyed the walls of the school, Voldemort sent back Dark curses with equal fervor. He saw a sickly yellow Bone Shattering Curse hit the Aurors left shoulder - regrettably reparable, unlike the skull - and laughed his high, nerve-grating laugh. When Moody dared send a curse back at him while he gloated, his eyes widened as he realized his attempt to shield would come too late! He was violently knocked back by the surprisingly powerful curse that would have likely shattered his back had his cloak not protected him. Thank heavens for that wonderful cloak! He arose, quite sore, but he must appear uninjured.
"You think such weak magic can destroy Lord Voldemort? I think not, ignorant Mudblood! Crucio!" Moody writhed in agony under Voldemort's wand. Once he let it up, he cruelly uttered, "Fiendfyre" and the familiar Fiery Basilisk erupted from his wand. The creature slowly devoured Moody's left leg as it burned it to an irreparable crisp. Voldemort growled as Moody activated an emergency portkey. He noticed the silence, and knew that the battles this day had ended.
"My Death Eaters, how did we fare this day?" Both Avery and Nott were alive, though Avery seemed injured.
"My Lord, the woman escaped via portkey; she was injured, but should recover. I am sorry, my Lord."
"The boy is dead, my Lord. My Killing Curse took his life after a pathetic struggle."
"Avery, I am disappointed with you. Crucio!" Voldemort smiled as his Death Eater screamed in agony - such a sweet sound - and together they Apparated away to plan their next strike.
Harry awoke with a start to the concerned face of Ginny Weasley. She was rubbing his arm, and looked like she had been for awhile. She smiled as she saw him wake up.
"Are you alright, Harry? I've been trying to wake up for dinner for ages already. Was it your scar?" She asked hesitantly. He smiled comfortingly to sooth the girl.
"No, Ginny, I was just tired, I guess. You know how those practices with Mad-Eye are, I reckon they'd leave any bloke a little weary. Thanks for waking me up - how'd you like being the first thing I see?" He flirted. She immediately reddened and smiled shyly. Definitely a crush.
"Well, Ginny, it seems that I don't have an escort for dinner. Seeing as you're a pretty girl - definitely a requirement for an escort - why don't you allow me to accompany you?" He offered his arm, which she took, as he pompously strode to dinner with a broad smile. The company of the Weasley family was exactly what he needed to recover from the constant dueling that his mind had just endured.