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Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 111: A Destined Battle Part 3
The roof of Malfoy Manor was not built to withstand such a tremendous amount of damage. The tiles were cracked, and entire sections had caved inward where the ancient roots had torn through the floor below.
The structure groaned beneath their feet like a dying animal.
Voldemort stood at the far end of what was left of the roof, his black robes moving with the wind and his wand raised.
Harry waited.
"You have impressed me, Potter. I will grant you that much." The Dark Lord tried to sound composed and cold as usual, though the visible injuries on his body told a different story. "But don't think for a second that you have won!"
The wand snapped in Harry's direction. "Avada Kedavra!"
The green light flew across the roof. Harry avoided it by stepping aside with no sense of urgency, and the curse passed him, vanishing into the night sky.
Voldemort was already casting the next spell, and more after that. He drove forward, abandoning the carefully built technique he had shown before in favor of something that felt more aggressive and desperate.
Killing Curses, blasting hexes, a Cruciatus that changed direction and pursued its target...he conjured a storm of dark magic thick enough to linger in the air and contaminate its surroundings.
Harry had an answer for every single move the Dark Lord threw at him. He made it look easy, but this was the result of a very long lifetime in pursuit of magical knowledge, combined with his raw talent.
Voldemort was good. Harry could admit that much now that he had faced the man directly. It was not surprising that he was so feared by the population of Magical Britain. Someone with his power and his determination to do evil was truly a danger that had to be respected.
Unfortunately for this Dark Lord, he had chosen the wrong person to antagonize. Or perhaps it was Fate who chose for him.
As he deflected every piece of magic Voldemort sent in his direction, Harry moved closer, while the Dark Lord slowly retreated without realizing it. His spellwork grew faster and more erratic as his frustration became more evident.
Before Voldemort noticed, the roots summoned by Harry had been creeping quietly along the edges of the roof, right behind where the Dark Lord was now standing.
"CARNIFEX MORS—" Voldemort began, wand aimed at Harry's head, drawing on all his hatred. His face contorted with rage.
Harry closed the remaining distance in three steps and struck the roof with the base of his staff.
The stone beneath Voldemort's feet suddenly shifted and threw him sideways.
He caught himself before he fell, his fingers gripping a broken roof tile. Below him was a four-story drop into rubble, as well as dozens more of those roots that Harry had brought here… waiting to rip him apart the moment he touched them.
The Dark Lord looked up at Harry as he heard more of the roots slithering across the walls, getting closer and closer.
A slow, thin smile returned to his face. "You cannot kill me," he claimed.
"You can beat me… you can tear this building apart around me and hit me harder than anyone ever has." He let out a soft breath that almost sounded like a chuckle. "But you cannot kill me, Potter. Not permanently, at least. I will be back."
Harry watched him hang from the roof. The roots were only inches away, but he held them back from attacking.
"Go on, then. Destroy this body!" Voldemort taunted. "One day, I will return. And when I do, I will take my time finding everyone you ever cared about and making them suffer. You will only delay the inevitable."
Harry shook his head in a gesture of disappointment. "You really don't think I know about the Horcruxes?"
The smile on Voldemort's face disappeared.
"I have seen mortals make many attempts to attain immortality...or something close to it. But there is no perfect way to do it. Mortals are meant to die… you can delay the inevitable, but not avoid it," Harry explained.
The roots finally moved and grabbed the Dark Lord's limbs while he was still recovering from the shock. "You are not the first one who came up with the idea of fragmenting their soul and hiding it inside objects. It is not as infallible as you believe."
Voldemort grunted as the roots clenched onto his limbs and pulled him back onto the roof, leaving him suspended in front of Harry. "You are bluffing. Even if you know what method I used, you have no way to find them all. As long as a single one of them remains… I will return."
"You still don't understand it, Mister Voldemort." Harry released his staff, and it floated before him. He then extended his hands as if he were grasping something invisible.
A black book suddenly appeared out of thin air and rested in his hands. "I had some time to think about how I wanted to deal with you and your… condition."
"What… what is that?" Voldemort's red eyes fixated on the black tome. He could feel the darkness and power within it...and it was on a scale he had never felt before.
Harry did not answer. His attention shifted fully to the book. His lips parted, and words began to emerge...a soft chant spoken in an ancient language.
The black tome reacted and opened. Its pages flipped by themselves until they stopped at a specific page.
Harry's eyes moved over the text as he continued to speak.
Voldemort struggled against his restraints, but the ancient roots carried their own magic and could not be easily broken. "What are you doing? What dark magic are you summoning?" He could hardly believe what he was seeing.
A magical circle appeared beneath Voldemort's feet. It was formed of runes made of light and floated in the air.
Harry finished the chant. The moment he closed the book and spoke the final word of his spell, it activated.
"मुद्राङ्कनम्! (Seal)"
The magical circle shone brightly, and a second later, they both disappeared from the roof of the manor.
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