Incontrovertible Needs

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. As such, any relations to personal experiences are coincidences. Harry Potter does not belong to me, Nor I claim any ownership over it.

My enemy's wand twirled on his hands, a blue shield appearing in his front, effortlessly blocking the curse before retaliating with a transfiguration attempt in the rubble beside me. Barely glancing at the would-be attacker near my feet, I cast a killing curse at whatever the heck that thing should be, creating a nullifying field of sorts on the rubble due the curse disruptive magic for a few moments, Long enough to stop the transfiguration and force him to change tactics.

I always found the best way to deal with those damned things was a good old fashioned AK on its face before it had time to bit you in the ass. Sometimes literally.

The bright green light barely left my wand before I stepped to the side, a vortex of water forming on the tip of my wand as I brought it to my eye level with a slash. The water flew across the room into my enemy,as I finished casting it a twist of my wrist sent a bolt of lightning in its direction for the dramatic effect.

I cursed as I jumped aside, the bastard was able to vanish all the water and redirect the bolt somewhere behind me. The worst part is that I have no fucking idea of how he did it. Shrugging it off, I slipped into a defensive stance, trusting my occlumency to sort between a great deal of techniques and best way to apply it with half formed thoughts, a priceless skill in any true wizard battle, where a misstep or a lost second could get someone killed.

Reflecting a bludgeoning curse, I ducked low to let the other two to sail over my head, a hell of a mistake I found out as I jumped out of the way of a destroyed bookshelf that slammed itself on the place I was standing a mere second ago.

My enemy was smart, strong. While I could match him in power for each spell for a while, soon I would tire, he had decades of more practice than I did, I was still a sixty year student after all. A really talented, good looking, once-upon-a-time prodigy, but still a student. His moves were precise, his spells were perfected with time. Where I wasted energy overpowering things, he could lure me in a false sense of security with weak spells on one second, just to hit me with a barrage of deadly power on the next.

The kid gloves were off then. Time for fair play was over. I was about to pull out the really nasty stuff.

Overpowering a blasting curse, one of the few spells that wouldn't fuck you over if you put too much juice on it, I gave the man a cheeky wave just as his shield dissipated, enjoying the look on this face just before disappearing with a pop.

As I Apparated on the great hall, I figured I had at most three, maybe four seconds before he showed up. Breaking the string of magic that held the bracelet on my left arm was easy, manipulating the air around so that each of the little pieces stuck together on it fell at away from each other, yet all within the reach I needed them to was just as easy. Doing it under two seconds, without even a glance at it, that was just awesome.

I instinctively started reinforcing the magic that kept all those little stones hidden from all but the most scrupulous sight, all the while drawing up my magic to unleash hell upon him.

Each of those stones were of my own design, even if someone was able to detect them, not many would be able to spot the little sigils scribbled in each of them. Runes. One should never underestimate runes. They could do the trickiest little things, and most hardly put the effort to really delve on them nowadays. Its use it is mostly restricted to anchor warding spells on 'modern' wizarding society, but some, curiously most of them being curse-breakers, remembered the stories of old ages long past: Tales of wizards who had yet to create a trustful focus for their magic, and instead turned to rune creations to manage everything they wanted. Be it storage, shelter, focus, protection, healing. Destruction, mayhem. Annihilation.

Of course, I hardly expected them to win this battle.

A flash of light and a explosion of flames gave away the appearance of my enemy, that annoying bird on his shoulder, both of them staring at me: one with apprehension, other with a coldness that betrayed his kind face.

We did not speak. Both of us knew why I was here. None of us were stupid enough to waste time chatting in the middle of a duel.

It was not yet time.

He and I danced around each other, a fiery rain of spells flying in every direction. I was dodging like a man possessed, and yet I was, slowly, able get him into position for the next step of my trap. A stone was conjured to take the blunt of the weird spell he sent my way, and just as fast I banished the shards into his face. I didn't bother transfiguring it. I knew it was pointless to try and attacking him with such techniques since anything I could do with it he could do it better, and turn it against me.

A true wizarding duel isn't like that crap they tried to start a few years back. The first rule was that no fight lasted long. And it was fast. You don't stop to see if your spell hit, you don't stand still to see what your enemy is casting, that spell heading my way could be a stunner, or it could be just as easily a curse to render my lungs useless and knock me out in less than one minute.

One stupid auror once told me it was better to take a orange cutting curse to the arm then to be hit with a orange skin decaying one. I proceeded to shatter his illusions by changing the color of the spell I sent on him to a yellow cheering-charm like.

He woke up 2 days later in St. Mungus after growing a new kidney.

By now, we were so deep into our fight that the air was quickly becoming saturated with magic. With every spell we cast, I could feel magic humming around us. It would modify our attacks, make them more unpredictable. Magic was all about intent after all. To cast the really big magicks around, one had to be in synchronism with his own magic,capable of molding it, redirecting it, at his very whim.

It was also dangerous. One can never know when all that shit would blow up at one's face.

His hand twiched, his wand firmly on his hand, performing an almost lazy circle of red light as half a dozen searing hot spears rushed toward me.

Nearly, but not yet.

My own wand was a blur as I fought for that extra inch that can give me a microsecond of advantage, a metal door was conjured in front of me, just in time to see the spears tear it apart as paper, the hastily raised shield I cast doesn't even slow them down!

Shit.

Jumping to the side, I managed to evade nearly all of them, getting a ugly cut on my left arm as one of them nick my skin. First blood for you asshole. I turn back to my enemy with murder in my eyes and a curse on my lips when I notice something off. He's not casting.

A cut to my arm wouldn't prevent me from fighting so why would he...

I could feel the dread surrounding me. Not a second after my realization I dived as far as I could to the floor, and there was nothing gracious about it. I didn't break the fall by rolling over as I hit the floor, neither did I get up right after that and summoned cursed hellfire to burn everything down.

I just dived. I hit the ground hard, the slippery floor leading me far enough of the spears path. He was controlling it, redirecting it as his will.

Time was up.

I stood and faced those damned things.

Conjuring water was the first step of it: The amount of water vaporizing was staggering, but that's what he expected. His enemy realized that something changed and started to drop his spell, but I would let him off that easily.

I ducked once again to avoid the spears, all the while jamming my wand at the wound in my left arm. It hurt like hell, but since most of the lost blood magicks deal with a sort of sacrifice, I hope some blood and pain would buy me a handful of seconds.

I point my now bloodied wand to the steam on the air, a bit of wandless magic I learned to prank people while I was a naive idiot turned all that water black and with a quiet murmur,I invoke an ancient ritual magick to turn it invulnerable. Or as close of it as possible for a while. Another push of my magic got the now black cloud to where he was standing, obscuring his view of what to come. Another twich from my fingers snapped one hell of a silencing ward around him, so that no sound of what I was doing would get through.

Needless to say, I'm awesome, but I'm not a semi-god with absolute power: That was the best I learned to do without a wand. You never know when you need a good old silence ward.

I could fell his magic flare up inside the mist, but I was ready for this.

Now

With barely a thought I activated the of them.

Those runes really were my master piece. I spent nearly an year working on the theory behind it, though I'll admit I didn't have all my focus on it, and it took me another two weeks to fully craft and enchant them all.

Each stone held up to four runes on it. Each of those runes were capable of holding a spell inside to unleashed it at a preset target. Of course, the more bad-ass a spell was, the less runes I could safely craft on the stones. Why, there was this pretty little curse I picked up one a egyptian sorcerer grimoire, that turned the target's intestine into a vicious snake that just loved to eat people organs to get out of their belly. That guy had a creepy fixation with snakes too.

That one had a stone just for it. With as much power as I could put on it without fucking it up.

I distractedly wondered how he must have felt like right now. He must have activated every magical sense he could really upon to figure out how to get rid off the mist quickly without having it explode around him, blood magic being a bitch like that, and suddenly magic flared up all around the hall into absurd amounts.

I hope it hurt.

Needless to say, I unleashed hell upon him.

All around us magic sparked to life. In each rune design I carved a bit of tracking charm for the spells, making them head towards the most predominant magical signature close to it. Add that to the fact that it ignores my own signature and we get a very good chance of killing someone.

Did you even wonder what would take to blow a wizard up by hitting him with hundreds of spells at the same time? Well, I did. I had fifty stones on that room. I actually forgot how much runes I carved, but it was something near a hundred and two hundreds.

The smoke cleared, his eyes widened.

Hell yea. Take that bitch.

All the spells darted across the room to my enemy. But in the one second our eyes crossed I knew. He was not going down.

There was was a sound so fucking huge I could fell my ears bleeding. That would be the end of it for a muggle, but I was a wizard. I was beyond those senses. Concentrating on the magic around me I could feel everything I needed to. He was kneeling on the floor, an arm hanging useless by his side, the other firmly holding his wand. One of his legs were bloodied, probably torn and cut up from the spells, his beard was nearly gone: burned like most of his clothes.

None of it mattered, he was down. I will keep him that way.

My wand flared up once again as I started casting: Charms, hexes, curses, transfigurations, animations, illusions. The hole was able to hold me back for a good two minutes before he started to really falter. One minute after that he was laying in the floor. Defeated.

I slowly walked over to him, after all, you never know what someone have in his sleeve to pull at the last moment. I was proved right as a angry phoenix showed up out of the thin air attacking me with all he could. Claws, beak, I even think the little bitch crapped on me. Still, the phoenix had already took a lot of curses on behalf of her familiar and soon fell to a binding spell, It shouldn't be a problem till I was out of here.

I turned around as the figure on the floor tried his voice a few times before setting for a single word

"Why, Harry?"

I didn't respond until I near enough to snatch his wand away from him.

"I'll be needing this headmaster." I looked at the dying man on my feet and sighed, even while I no longer cared for him, for all his manipulations, he still deserved respect for his power, for his unshakable faith in the good of others.

He was no longed his enemy. He was a true Lord of Light. Unable to believe the worst. Unable to sit back and do nothing while death and despair settled on his world.

"I wont say I'm sorry, Sir. I need this wand. I have use for its power."

It seemed to take a few moments before the headmaster was able to gather enough strength to speak, but when he did his voice was firm, filled with a power not many could achieve. It was the voice of a man that believed in what was right, and took whatever punishment needed to keep darkness at bay.

"You Can't, Harry. The wand, that wand is cursed. How long until someone find you have it? Until you succumb to its calling and desire for blood? I beg of you, do not take this path. Destroy it, before it cast its clutches into your very soul."

"I'm afraid I cant do that, Sir" I replied while freeing she phoenix so she could heal companion. "I'm a man on a mission, and I'll be in need of its power." I tossed the still bloodied wand I was using during the fight to him.

"There's enough blood on to create yourself a new arm. And maybe, just maybe, the wand connection to Voldemort, and the blood connection to me will be enough so you can finish him off."

...And one must die at the hand of the other...

"Best of lucky to you and Britain headmaster. I've got unfinished business to take care of."

That was the last time I saw the headmaster for a long, long time.

___________________________________________________________

I let a smile tug at my lips as I crossed the boundaries of the wards of my home. I was becoming giddy with the prospect of what the immediate future held as I crossed the front door into the living room, where I found Luna freaking out Bill Weasley who was trying to hold a conversation with a half lunatic girl clad only in her underwear.

A incredulous red haired boy watched as I walked straight to my girlfriend, dragging her to the closest door and casting my specifically designed wandless silencing ward while getting out of my our clothes as fast as I could.

"Did you get it?"

I growled while I attacked her breasts with my mouth, letting my hands free to roam her nubile body. "Yea." was my short answer, right before pausing to rip off her knickers.

"What are you waiting for then? Ravish me!"

The elder wand was in my hand before I could even think how it got there. Pouring as much strength as I could gather from within myself I felt the ease at which it crossed my body and gathered in the tip of the legendary weapon increasing the efficiency of any spell tenfold. I pointed the wand to myself and uttered the most impressive piece of magic I've ever heard about.

My girl wanted to have sex. I'll be damned If I wasn't going to get that damn contraceptive charm right this time.

They called it the Death Stick. It was sure as hell going to be able to kill my sperm.