Midnight Avatar
Part Four

By Ruskbyte

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Hermione stared down at the limp body of Tom Riddle, lying lifeless at Harry's feet. Nobody seemed to know what to do. Hogwarts: A History was filled with stories and little anecdotes about the things that had occurred over the centuries. Somehow she doubted there was a precedent for anything like what had just transpired in the Great Hall.

The most powerful dark lord in several centuries literally having the magic seemingly sucked out of him until he was no more than an everyday Muggle. And all that being done to him by a fifteen year old boy, who seemed almost as surprised by the outcome as everybody else.

Wormtail... Peter Pettigrew... killed his own master.

Harry seemed to be having similar thoughts, Hermione noticed. He was looking down at Riddle's body, an strange look of sadness in his startling green eyes. Shaking his head sadly he looked to where Pettigrew was curled on the stretcher Madam Pomfrey had conjured up earlier. After a few moments deliberation he turned away from the crumpled form at his feet and made his way across the stage.

Hermione took a small step forward as Harry was passing her, causing him to stop and turn to her. She was about to speak, she didn't really know what she was going to say, but he silenced her with a finger to her lips.

Until then she had not known what to expect from Harry. After such a display as he had just given she had doubted whether or not she would be able to relate and interact with her old friend. As his finger brushed against her lips Hermione knew she had nothing to worry about. He was not an all-powerful wizard. He was not some primal force of nature.

He was Harry. Just Harry.

He smiled timidly at her, almost as if he were afraid she would flinch away from him, "I've got one or two things left to wrap up. We can talk after that, 'kay?"

"Okay, Harry," she agreed with a small nod. It was incredible. His touch felt like fire on her skin and his voice, a deeper tenor than before, seemed to reverberate through her. As he went past Hermione thought that the brilliant scarlet and gold of his robes seemed duller somehow, less vibrant than before.

"Don't worry," he assured her, "It's over now."

Harry made his way to where Pettigrew was lying, giving a nod and encouraging grin to Ron and the rest of the students as he passed them. Pettigrew was trembling on the stretcher, his wand limp in his remaining hand. Harry knelt down alongside him and placed a stilling hand on the man's shoulder.

"You didn't have to do that, Peter," he said, a small amount of reproach in his voice.

"I brought... him back... into... this world," gasped Pettigrew, his breath coming in unsteady pants, "It seems... seems only... fitting... that I take... him out... of... it."

Harry looked over Pettigrew's injured body and shook his head, "You're dying. You know that, don't you?"

Pettigrew's smile was a thin and humourless one, "My master... was not... happy... with me... after you... slipped... from his grasp."

A slight chuckle seemed to escape Harry, "Yes, I'd imagine he wasn't please that you helped me to escape. Thank you for that."

"Don't be," Pettigrew shook his head, coughing as he spoke, "I'm the one... who captured you... in the first place. But you... you saved my life... two years ago... from M-moony and... Sirius. I was... indebted... you. A wizard's debt. Paid... in blood."

"The blood you took from me last year?" Harry asked, his voice strained.

"Do not... for a moment... think that I... I am doing... doing this for you... out of any... sense of... seeking redemption, Harry," he wheezed as his movements became sluggish and his breath thin, "I am... beyond that... now. It's fourteen... years... too late... for... me."

Pettigrew's eyes were glazing over and Hermione doubted he could even see Harry properly anymore, but even as his last breath slipped away, he seemed to focus on a point beyond the boy kneeling at his side. A faint smile of contentment and satisfaction seemed to curve around the corners of his mouth as his head slumped gently back and he grew still.

Harry sighed and reached up a hand to close the dead Marauder's eyes. "Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine et lux perpetua luceat eis," he muttered as he did so. After a moment Harry rose to his feet, his robes looking faded and worn, as though very old.

"Goodbye Peter," he said, "Some will mourn your passing. Most will not."

With a wave and gesture of his wand, Harry levitated Pettigrew's body off the stretcher, lying him down gently on the stage. With a glance towards the Slytherin table Harry directed his wand towards the curled up form of Lucius Malfoy. Surprisingly none of the students clustered nearby the fallen Death Eater were attempting to offer him any aid. Not even his son, who was standing proud and dishevelled only a few metres away.

"Mobilicorpus," Harry said and a moment later the elder Malfoy was drifting through the air to the stage. Harry settled him down, with a bit of a malicious thump, on the stretcher so recently occupied by Pettigrew. Once the injured Death Eater was in place Harry waved his wand again and muttered under his breath, causing thick leather straps to appear and secure Malfoy's arms and legs to the stretcher's side.

"He should be alright," Harry said as he turned to a bewildered looking Madam Pomfrey, "As long as the knives aren't removed all at once the blood lose should be minimal. I don't recommend treating him while he's conscious and certainly not without an armed guard present. Best just do what is needed to prevent him from dying, leave the rest for the Ministry."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and quickly levitated the stretcher into the air, guiding it with her wand towards the nearest exit from the Hall. Hardly anyone appeared sorry to see the Malfoy patriarch being carried out, mewling pitifully, especially Draco who was tracking his father's progress with cold grey eyes that were blazing with barely checked cold fury.

The Death Eaters and their master had shown their true colours during the attack, destroying any illusions harboured by those that might have wanted to join their ranks. At that moment Hermione was certain not a single student present would ever again consider turning. Considering the Death Eater's actions and Harry's swift retribution, she could hardly bring herself to be surprised.

Harry watched as the nurse left to the infirmary, with Lucius drifting behind her. Once she was out of the hall he turned to face both his friends and the headmaster, his robes now dull a grey and brown that hung limply from him.

"Professor Dumbledore," he greeted with a solemn nod, the grave effect somewhat ruined by the mischievous gleam in his sparkling green eyes and the barely, but masterfully, suppressed grin that threatened to spread across his face.

"Harry," acknowledged Dumbledore with an equally solemn nod, also robbed of its graveness by the devilish sparkle in his own eyes, which peered over his half moon spectacles, and the twitch of his moustache that indicated his struggle to hold back a smile.

"You certainly know how to make an entrance," the headmaster observed, glancing over the throng of students who were watching closely with bated breath. His voice was unable to hide the joyous delight that was bubbling from within the old wizard at Harry's unexpected return.

Finally the smile he was withholding broke free and Harry grinned happily, "If you're going to make an impression, best make a big one," he answered impishly.

Dumbledore nodded sagely, but with equal amusement, and pointed, "I'm think I should point out that your robes appear to be losing their finish."

"Yeah, well," Harry looked down at his robes as they flickered and reverted to their original form, "My entrance wouldn't have been quite so impressive if I had made it in my pyjamas."

Hermione had to admit he was right, and Ron standing beside her seemed to be agreeing from the way he was laughingly shaking his head. The old and far too large pyjamas hung on Harry's lanky frame, the blue and green pattern scuffed with dirt and grime and torn in places. The regal red and gold robes had been much better looking, even if they had been transfigured.

"Potter," asked Snape waspishly, "do you think you could be kind enough to bother explaining just what exactly has happened here?"

"I'd have thought it was obvious," replied Harry, turning to face Snape with the look of someone resigned to never be on the Potions Master's good side.

Hermione could not restrain herself any more and stepped up to Harry, somehow managing to keep her composed exterior in place. As he looked at her, a question in his eyes, she wordlessly shook her head and threw herself at him.

She had hugged Harry before, usually before or after he came within an inch of getting himself either killed or horribly maimed. But this time, this time something about it felt different.

"Oh, god, Harry!" she gasped, crushing him in her arms, "Don't you ever bloody think of doing something like this again! Ever! D'you hear me?"

Harry cradled her in his arms, gently rocking her back and forth as she tried her damnedest to break every rib in his body. His hands were flitting around her back and when he trailed one of them up her spine she shivered at the sensation.

"As delightful as this may feel, 'Mione," he wheezed after a minute or so, "I would like to breath sometime soon. I'm starting to see spots."

Hermione eased up on her death grip, but still kept Harry firmly in her grasp. Off to one side she heard one of the twins snort with amusement, "He can knock the stuffing out of You-Know-Who, but ickle Hermione here comes close to killing him. Go figure, eh?"

"Oi! Shut up!" protested Harry, flushing a remarkable shade of red, "Or else they'll be putting up a monument for the two of you as well as him." He jerked his thumb across the stage towards Riddle's corpse.

"A monument?" asked McGonagall incredulously, "A monument for You-Know-Who?"

Harry nodded in a seemingly serious fashion as he gently extracted himself from Hermione's tight grip, "I was thinking something along the lines of; 'Here lies Tom Marvolo Riddle. He valued the purity of blood above all else. Little did he realize that he himself was only human.'"

Nobody could tell if Harry was joking or not. Harry drew one of the empty chairs from around the charred staff table and slumped into it. He sank down with a volcanic sigh and stretched out his arms and legs, revealing a pair of dirty, mismatched socks on his feet. Hermione recognised them as the pair Dobby had given him the previous Christmas.

"Ooooh, my aching feet," he groaned, "Heck, my aching everything."

"How do you feel?" asked Ginny anxiously, sandwiched between Fred and George.

Harry looked over at her and grinned, "Like I've been trampled by a rampaging herd of Hippogriffs." He rolled his eyes at the thought and slumped even further back against the chair,

Dumbledore stood forward then, gently resting a hand on Harry's shoulder, "I think, Harry, that we should adjourn to my office for an explanation. After that you may get some well deserved rest."

"In a bed?" asked Harry eagerly.

"In a bed," confirmed Dumbledore with a smile, "I think your housemates will be very much relieved now that you are returned to us."

"A bed," repeated a blissful Harry, "That sounds almost too good to be true."

Dumbledore's eyes were sparkling mischievously as he took hold of Harry's arm and attempted to lever him to his feet, "I can well imagine that sleep is foremost on your mind right now, Harry, but I'm afraid we require an explanation first."

"Personally I think that's a terrible idea," said Harry as he stood up, stifling a yawn, "If I fall asleep somewhere in the middle remember it's all your fault."

Dumbledore quickly delegated orders to the rest of the staff, asking McGonagall to call the Ministry in to clean up the mess and take the Death Eaters into custody. Snape, Flitwick and all the others, along with the house Prefects, were to escort the students back to their dormitories.

Harry stepped off the stage and made for the exit that led towards where Dumbledore's office was, followed by Hermione and Ron. Snape seemed about to protest their inclusion, but a look from Dumbledore silenced him.

"Potter!"

Harry paused and turned as everyone stopped what they were doing and listened intently. The feud between Harry and Draco was well known to everybody at Hogwarts. Almost legendary in fact. So when the two faced off yet again, everyone stilled to wait and see what happened next.

Bright green eyes locked with glittering grey eyes as the two boys stood before each other. Malfoy's pale face was a dispassionate mask as he momentarily studied Harry's own inscrutable countenance.

After a moment of consideration he seemed to come to a decision about something and directed a fractional nod towards Harry, who was waiting patiently. One of Harry's eyebrows rose a fraction and then he returned the nod in the spirit it was given.

"This doesn't change anything, y'know," drawled Malfoy, "I still think you're an arrogant, stuck-up prick."

"And you're a spoiled, prejudiced bastard," replied Harry, "Guess we'll just have to stick with what works and carry on hating each others guts."

Malfoy smiled thinly and gave another nod before turning to start directing his housemates on their way down to the dungeons. Harry stood silently amidst the bustling students for a minute, watching as Malfoy bossed his fellow Slytherins around. Finally he shook his head and continued on his way to Dumbledore's office.

"Remind me to watch my back around him," he muttered to Hermione as they trudged down the corridor and finally came to the stone gargoyle that guarded entrance to the headmaster's office.

"Humbug!" declared Dumbledore and then escorted the three children inside.

The four of them climbed the winding stairway up to the large circular office. There Dumbledore motioned them to take seats in the large, overstuffed chairs in front of his desk. After the students had seated themselves the old wizard rounded the desk and sat in his own chair, which creaked as he sank onto it.

"I wish I could tell you precisely what happened, but I can't," began Harry, apologetically, "I can only tell what I know, what I experienced, which I'm afraid has a great deal of gaps. Interrogation of the Death Eaters might reveal the finer details."

Hermione scraped her chair until she was sitting right by Harry, Ron following next to her. They had both missed him over the past month, Hermione especially, and wanted to be as close to him as they could. Chances were he would not leave their sight for another month if either of them had any say in the matter.

"It started on the New Year, although I'm willing to bet things were set in motion much earlier, probably some time around Christmas."

Harry was stroking his chin thoughtfully as he spoke, "I don't know how Pettigrew got into the castle, but it was probably in his Animagus form. No slight to Filch, but nobody's going to notice an extra rat scampering about. I still haven't figured out how he managed to get into the Gryffindor tower, but he managed it somehow."

He green eyes blazing dangerously for a second, "I woke up just as Pettigrew grabbed me and activated another portkey. Like the one from the Third Task, last year. Before I could do or say anything we were transported to Voldemort's private hellhole. Azkaban."

"Azkaban!" exclaimed Ron, paling at the very mention of the wizarding world's most feared prison.

"A perfect hiding place for him," agreed Dumbledore, "The Dementors are creatures of the utmost darkness and would make suitable allies for him during his reign."

Harry shuddered at the memory, "It certainly earned its reputation. Coldest, darkest place I've ever been. It's a miracle Sirius managed to survive in there for so long."

Hermione almost reached out a hand to comfort him, but restrained herself before the motion was even half formed. She knew how uncomfortable Harry got during open displays of affection or comfort, she remembered how he would always tense up whenever she hugged him. He simply wasn't used to the experience.

"Malfoy was there waiting," Harry continued after a time. "Him, Nott and MacNair were the welcoming committee laid out for me. They trussed me up with those magical bindings everyone seems so fond of and Malfoy took my wand away. Then they dragged me inside the prison..."

His eyes lost focus as he recalled the event, "I thought Voldemort would have wanted to be at the top of it all. I should've guessed he'd prefer to stay in the bottom-most dungeon. He had carved or conjured up a throne for himself, he was sitting on it when we entered. Looked almost alive, really, hundreds of snakes coiled around and around each other."

Hermione licked her lips and asked, "Who else was there?"

"Everyone I think," admitted Harry, "Except for Snape. Voldemort did a lot of talking when they brought me in. Went on and on and on about how he was the greatest sorcerer in the world and how he was destined for absolute dominance, blah blah blah. Apparently he knew Snape was working as a double agent, but kept him alive so he could pass false information to our side."

"Hmm. A good thing for Severus that he did," said Dumbledore, stroking his beard, "Normally Voldemort would have killed any spies that he discovered."

Harry shook his head, "He was going to kill him, just not right away. He's more useful to Voldemort alive than dead at the time. Anyways... Malfoy eventually got around to presenting him with my wand at which point he made a big show of snapping it in half. He tossed the pieces to me and then told Pettigrew to release me so that we could duel. He wanted to see if I faired better without the Priori Incantantem to help me."

Harry began to pull pensively at his bottom lip, "Pettigrew picked up the pieces and cut me loose from the rope. Then he gave me my wand... and a specially made portkey. Voldemort was talking to the Death Eaters about how he was finally going to get to duel me without anything interfering or interrupting us. He bowed and then hit me with the Cruciatus Curse."

"Oh, Harry," breathed Hermione, clutching her face with her hands and digging her nails into her cheeks as Harry recounted what had happened.

"It's okay, 'Mione," Harry assured her, "I don't know how long I was under the curse but at some point the portkey activated. I'm just lucky I didn't drop it."

Dumbledore leaned forward somewhat and asked, "I trust you do not need any immediate attention by Madam Pomfrey?"

Harry gave an embarrassed cough and gingerly pressed his right arm against his side, "Actually I think I might have a couple of cracked ribs, but nothing serious."

Ron sputtered for a moment, "Ribs - you - nothing serious?!"

"It's not that bad, Ron, honestly," said Harry, patting himself on the injured area and trying to hide the wince, "Just a little uncomfortable. I'm sure I can live long enough to tell the rest of what happened before stopping by the Hospital Wing."

"So where did Peter's portkey take you, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

"That's where things get a little strange," replied Harry, "I don't really know what happened but something went wrong with the portkey. Or something went right if you want to look at it that way. I don't know what caused it, it could have been because of the curse or not. I was a little distracted at the time so I wasn't paying much attention. Even if I was I wouldn't have been able to understand how the magic was focusing."

Hermione was curious, "You've said that before, 'understand magic'. What do you mean by that?"

Harry looked at her and shrugged, "As I said, that's where things get strange. You all know how it feels to travel by portkey; a tugging and pulling, then everything twists and suddenly you're someplace else. You experience the entire journey from start to finish. This time it was different somehow."

"What do you mean?" asked Ron.

"Just when everything came to a point, that moment before you arrive at your destination, there was... a moment of... something," explained Harry, grasping for words, "I can't even call it a moment, because I don't know how long it lasted. A moment or an eternity. It could have been either."

For a long time Harry sat there, staring into space and seeing something only he knew. After a while Dumbledore cleared his throat and asked, "What happened in this 'moment', Harry?"

"Something wonderful," replied Harry rapturously, "It was... wonderful. I still don't know how it happened or why, but suddenly it was like... it was like a rubber band stretched too far and then snapped or... a light switching on in the middle of absolute darkness. I just... I understood."

"Understood what?" asked Hermione, thinking that perhaps she already knew the answer.

"Practically everything."

The bald statement caused the other three occupants of the office to stare at Harry with round eyes, or in Dumbledore's case a bright twinkle and a twitch of his moustache. Harry for his part simple rested back in his chair and continued to gazing into nothingness, remembering.

"I can understand magic on every level, down to the point where I can even manipulate spells on a base level. I can... 'see' magic, the way it works, how it works, why it works. I know what effects it will have, on itself, on its surroundings, on other forms of magic, everything."

Harry seemed to return to the present and turned his eyes to Dumbledore, "After that, that one moment, the portkey deposited me in Hogsmeade. Right outside the Shrieking Shack, actually. I was almost back at Hogwarts when I spotted Voldemort entering through the front doors, disguised like me and with all his Death Eaters literally hanging around outside."

He smiled and gave a shrug, "I was able to figure out what was happening inside the castle by looking at the magic that enchants the ceiling of the Great Hall. That's how I knew what was going on, by reading the way the enchantment reacted to the people beneath it."

"At which point you apparated through the wards," observed Dumbledore with a chuckle.

"Not through the wards. Around them," corrected Harry, "I manipulated the wards to create a funnel through the ceiling, so I could make my grand entrance as you described it. The lightning wasn't really planned, it was more a side-effect of changing the wards' shape so quickly which produced the build up."

"Bloody impressive for a 'side-effect'," noted Ron.

"Actually I was quite a bit surprised to find the entire school here," observed Harry after giving his friend an apologetic shrug, "I didn't think school would be back for another day or two."

"Harry," explained Hermione softly, "You've been gone a month."

"A month?"

"Yes"

"A month?"

"It's the first weekend of February now, Harry," stated Dumbledore.

"You've missed all of January," confirmed Hermione

"Bugger," Harry swore with a frown, "That means I missed the match against Ravenclaw."

Finis.

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