The Source of Magic

GoG

Story Summary:
[COMPLETE] At the start of his 7th year, a stranger from his mother’s past arrives to help Harry find the remaining Horcruxes – and teach him to attain the power the Dark Lord knows not. Harry learns surprising things about his mother. The Ministry of Magic, increasingly under Voldemort’s thumb, attempts to infiltrate Hogwarts, but the feisty Headmistress McGonagall is equal to the challenge. The race against time to destroy the cunningly concealed Horcruxes takes the reader to dark realities where Voldemort reigns supreme. A story to make you think … with a little mystery, romance, adventure, philosophy, and humour along the way.

Chapter 19 - Like a Circle in a Circle

Posted:
03/10/2007
Hits:
1,770
Author's Note:
Thanks heaps to Pam and Lisa725 for being such great betas ... and so fast!!


Chapter 19 ~ Like a Circle in a Circle

Voldemort was utterly livid; four of his precious Horcruxes had been destroyed! He was absolutely positive the final two were safe; no one could possibly know about them. But his day of triumph had turned into a humiliating shambles. Without even bothering to announce his departure, he wrapped his cloak around him, raised his wand, and started uttering the incantation to Disapparate away, through his wards.

"Don't you want to know about the fifth one, Tom?" blurted Harry as he realised what Voldemort was doing.

"Enough of your childish games, boy! If there is another Horcrux you can know nothing about it! I have had quite enough of your insolence and impudence for one morning," he snarled, not even bothering to lower his wand. He began intoning the incantation once more.

"Ravenclaw's wand!" cried Harry desperately.

"What?" hissed Voldemort in horror, standing frozen with his wand arm still raised.

"You heard me," said Harry calmly, knowing he had Voldemort's complete attention.

Voldemort lowered his arm and looked incredulously at Harry. "You could not possibly know anything about it; it's ... it's impossible. And even if you did somehow find out, there is no way to get to ... to where it is."

"But of course there is, Tom. If you could travel to the dream reality to hide it, then someone could just as easily travel there to destroy it ... and they did!"

"Even if someone did travel there, they would never be able to locate the wand ... even I do not know where it is," said Voldemort, more to himself than to Harry, trying to convince himself that the Horcrux must be safe.

"You must know the secret of Rowena Ravenclaw's wand, and how it was handed down from mother to eldest daughter, the wand-bearer. What you probably don't know is that there is a special bond between the wand-bearer and the wand. There was wand-bearer in the other reality. She was able to sense where you -- or at least the Tom Riddle in the dream reality -- hid the wand after you concealed your Horcrux in it and departed."

"No!" cried Voldemort.

"Yes!" said Harry, grinning. "It was concealed right here, at Stonehenge -- exactly where you are standing now, in the centre of the great circle. A friend of mine visited the dream reality and met the wand-bearer, who led her to Stonehenge and showed her exactly where the wand was buried. She destroyed the fifth Horcrux."

Voldemort stared at Harry wordlessly, transfixed. He was completely silent for several minutes while he digested this new, unbelievable information, and wondered, and worried: Has Potter found out about the sixth Horcrux, also? Have they all been destroyed? He could not mention it without divulging its existence. How on earth did Potter manage to learn about all my Horcruxes? I trusted no one with my greatest secret. He can only have learned about them from my own mind. No, impossible! Potter could not have done it -- not after all the careful measures I took to break the link between us. And he certainly could not have done it before the link was terminated; he was utterly unskilled in both Legilimency and Occlumency. No, it could not have been him; it must have been someone else. Potter obviously had helpers -- but who is powerful enough to penetrate my mental defences without my even detecting the intrusion? Could it have been that goody-goody fool, Dumbledore? He was, reputedly, a powerful Legilimens, but he never had the opportunity. Our only recent contact was at the Ministry of Magic, and I kept him far too preoccupied duelling; no, it could not have been him. Voldemort fumed silently. Who could it be? Slowly, a suspicion dawned on him: Had he been duped?

"Severus, come here!" he said evenly, betraying no emotion. His audience, who were not privy to his recent deliberations, had no idea why he was summoning Snape again.

Snape made his way obediently towards Voldemort; his face was an expressionless mask. "Yes, my Lord," he said, bowing his head.

"Severus, my old and loyal friend," said Voldemort casually. "I have a puzzle for that brilliant mind of yours: Someone, it seems, has learned some of my most precious secrets ... secrets that were known to myself, alone. How could it be possible? Can you suggest an explanation?"

"My Lord, it is well know that the boy's scar provides a link of sorts between your mind and his; perhaps he has been utilising it to --"

"No, Severus, he most certainly has not ... he could not. I severed the link after the debacle at the Ministry of Magic. He is the very last person who could gain access to my thoughts. In any case, I he does not possess the extraordinary Legilimency skills that would be required to penetrate my exceptional mental defences ... my ability as an Occlumens is legendary, as you know."

"Yes, my Lord, I am certain that it is quite impossible to overcome your defences," said Snape deferentially.

"Yet, clearly, someone has. Tell me, Severus, who would you rate as the most accomplished Legilimens, after myself?"

"I have no idea, my Lord; it is a question I have never considered."

"But I have, Severus. It is my experience that great Occlumens are invariably also great Legilimens, and there is one mind that I have never been able to penetrate."

There was a long silence. Snape remained standing silently before his Master, wearing an inscrutable expression on his face.

"Are you not curious, Severus, to know to whom I am referring?"

"Yes, my Lord, indeed. Who is it?"

"You, Severus!"

"Me? Surely not?" responded Snape woodenly.

"You duplicitous scoundrel, Snape! It was you! It must have been you -- no one else has the skill! You have been supplying me with potions ... perhaps you included a little something to weaken my defences?"

"No, never, my Lord! You know I have been your faithful servant all these years. Have I not proven my loyalty a thousand times? Did I not kill Dumbledore? How can you still doubt me, Master?"

"It is true that since Dumbledore's death, I never once doubted you -- until this moment! Someone has penetrated my mind; that much is certain. And, it is equally certain that you are the only one who possesses the skill -- and who had the opportunity to do it."

"No, my Lord, it was not me."

"Then drop your defences, Snape! Allow me to look into your mind. If you are innocent, you can have no objection. Legilimens," he said, pointing his wand at Snape and staring hard into his eyes for several minutes.

"You are blocking me, Snape! You are not allowing me fully into your mind. This is proof of your guilt. It is you who learned all my secrets. It is you who betrayed me, you despicable spy!"

"My Lord, please consider: As your double agent all these years, you always appreciated the need for me to keep my thoughts private --"

"But you are no longer a double agent, Snape. You apparently declared your hand, in killing Dumbledore. You have no reason to hide you thoughts from me any longer -- do not make ridiculous excuses! The game is up, Snape; you shall never again violate my mind! You know the punishment for what you have done --"

"But, he hasn't," blurted out Harry awkwardly. "It wasn't Snape who found out about your Horcruxes, it --"

"Ha!" exclaimed Voldemort, smiling triumphantly. "Well, Snape, that's the final nail in your coffin! Potter is trying to defend you ... trying to save your worthless life ... what better proof could there be of your guilt?"

Harry winced under Snape's furious glare. Snape obviously believed he still had a chance of talking his way out this one; but Harry had given the game away. He felt completely foolish. He would have apologised, except that would have just made matters worse for Snape.

"The brat is trying to set me up, my Lord; he hates me," said Snape, trying desperately to save himself from the inevitable Killing Curse. "You saw how he humiliated me --"

"Cease this nonsense, Snape! The boy has given you away and revealed your true colours. You were never my servant, were you Snape? You have been Dumbledore's lackey from the very beginning, you treacherous back-stabber. Well, you chose the wrong side, Snape. Goodbye. Avada Kedavra!" he hissed venomously.

Harry dived in front of Snape and took the Killing Curse with his Boomerang Shield. Before Voldemort could fire off another curse Harry had placed himself directly in front of Snape.

Voldemort was furious at being thwarted. "Death Eaters!" he bellowed, "the boy cannot be on every side of Snape at once; surround the traitor and kill him!" Death Eaters rushed forward from all sides ready to do their Master's bidding.

"Go ahead, if you want, but you'll be killing yourselves," said Harry, his voice magically amplified. "I've extended my protective shield to cover Snape. You saw what happened to your mates before, when they tried to curse me; if you want to join them, go right ahead." The approaching Death Eaters stopped dead in their tracks and lowered their wands.

"He lies! The boy lies! It is not possible to do what he claims -- to protect another with a defensive shield. Kill the traitor!" he yelled, but still his servants hesitated. "Cowards! Do you doubt the word of your Master?" snarled Voldemort. "You! Greyback," he hissed pointing his wand at Fenrir Greyback, who was on the other side of Snape. "Kill him ... before I kill you!"

"Y-yes, Master," stuttered the werewolf, nervously pointing his wand at Snape's back. "Avada Kedavra!" were his final words, before he fell dead, to the ground.

"Get out of here, the lot of you! And take him with you!" yelled Voldemort in a fury, pointing at the dead werewolf. While the Death Eaters were retreating, Harry turned to face Snape; their faces were just inches apart. He didn't expect any thanks (not from Snape) and he didn't get any -- just a cold, appraising glare.

"We've got to keep Voldemort here until Jason arrives," whispered Harry, his voice masked by the shocked murmurs from the spectators at the unexpected turn of events. "He's working on a spell to break Voldemort's shield."

Snape nodded; he was obviously extremely uncomfortable at their close proximity. "Is it necessary for me to stand quite so close to you in order to be protected by your shield, Potter?"

"Err ... I'm not exactly sure," said Harry, who was not enjoying their cloying closeness any more than Snape, "but I suppose it's best to play it safe. Hey, look! He's about to leave; we have to stop him!"

"Leaving so soon, O Exalted One?" taunted Snape.

If looks could kill, Snape would have been dead on the spot. "The stench of treachery here is nauseating; but fear not, Snape, your day will come ... when you do not have Potter's skirts to hide behind. It will be my pleasure to kill you -- personally. That is the only remaining item of business I have with you."

"What a pity you have to be off so soon, Exalted One. I was sure you would wish to hear the rest of the prophecy, before --"

"Prophecy? What prophecy?" snapped Voldemort.

"Oh, you know the one, I'm sure -- Trelawney's prophecy; the one I overheard at the Hog's Head, all those years ago -- well, the first part at least. I repeated it to you; I'm sure you must remember it: "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ..."

"And do you know the rest of it?" asked Voldemort attempting to sound casual, rising to the bait.

"Certainly," replied Snape with a smile.

"But, how could you? The prophecy was destroyed in the Department of Mysteries when that fool Malfoy bungled the attempt to obtain it. Trelawney was in a trance when she gave it, you said, so she could not possibly remember any of it."

"That is correct, but there is the person to whom she gave the prophecy. I heard it -- the whole prophecy -- from the one to whom it was given -- my true master, Albus Dumbledore."

"True master?" spat Voldemort. "How could that Muggle-loving fool have been your true master? You killed him! Even I could no longer doubt your loyalty after that."

"Albus Dumbledore," said Snape reverently, "had the most brilliant mind I ever encountered. You were never a match for him; he outwitted you at every turn. He was mortally ill when he begged me to kill him, in order to convince you of my loyalty. Even in death he outsmarted you, fooled you, and defeated you."

Voldemort was white with rage. He could rant and rave and call Dumbledore a fool and abuse him as much as he wanted, but it would do no good now. He had grossly underestimated his old foe. Never for a moment had he suspected that Dumbledore had uncovered the secret of his Horcruxes, and then set about methodically destroying them. But Dumbledore was gone now; he was no longer a threat. The real threat was Potter -- just as it had been prophesied all those years ago. He was desperate to hear the rest of the prophecy, but he managed to keep his voice calm and measured. "Well, then, tell me how this supposed prophecy ends ... if indeed you know."

"Oh, I know," taunted Snape, "but I am not at all sure that you will like it when you hear it. Perhaps you would prefer not to know your fate?"

"Allow me to be the judge of that; now stop prevaricating and tell me the rest of the infernal prophecy!"

"Certainly, my pleasure: "... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."

"Hmm," said Voldemort to himself, considering the words. Mark him? Yes, of course I marked him -- with that accursed scar; but my equal? Never! And one of us must destroy the other -- well, Hades knows I've done my best to get rid of the brat. The part about him having the power to defeat me is just repetition; I've heard it before. But what can be the meaning of 'he will have power the Dark Lord knows not'? It cannot be denied that the boy has exhibited astonishing power today -- but what is his power?

"Stuff and nonsense!" bluffed Voldemort derisively.

"Then you would not agree that Potter -- the boy standing before you, unharmed, despite all your efforts to kill him -- has great power? I would have thought it rather obvious that he has developed quite extraordinary power. And, as the prophecy says, you haven't a clue what it is."

"Well, what is it then?" snapped Voldemort, swallowing the bait.

"Love," said Harry.

"Love!" spat Voldemort contemptuously. "Love is not power! You know nothing about it, boy."

"Don't I?" asked Harry, smiling. "All you know is evil, hatred, and violence. You control people through fear, pain, and death. But the power of Love is far greater -- which is why it is I who will destroy you!"

"Hah!" exclaimed Voldemort. "Despite all your pretensions of power, you cannot even touch me!"

"Only because you are usurping the power of all those entranced Death Eaters; and even then, you cannot breach my shield. The power of Love is far greater than the power of hatred."

"Nonsense!" screamed Voldemort. "I have far more power than what I derive from those few dozen servants who I am using to project my Invincibility Shield. I draw power from all of my followers, all of those who worship me, every single one! That is my great strength! I control them, hundreds of Death Eaters, and use their power as I wish. Soon, I will be victorious and everyone -- everyone who I allow to live -- will worship me! Thousands will give me their power! And look at you, Potter, standing there, all alone, with no one but that wretched turncoat Snape! Ha, what have you to --"

But Voldemort stopped in mid-sentence because, at that very moment, four witches and three wizards materialised from nowhere. They immediately spread out to form a circle within the larger circle of entranced Death Eaters. They raised their wand arms at a forty-five degree angle, pointing towards the centre of the circle. Bright beams of golden light emanated from their wands, converging exactly beneath the point where the green beams from the Death Eaters' wands met. They formed a circle within a circle, a translucent yellow cone within a green cone, surrounding Voldemort, Harry, and Snape; but unlike the Death Eaters, they were not in a trance. Jason beckoned to Snape, who rushed over to him in the confusion. After a whispered conversation, Snape moved away to stand between Jason and Lupin; the others moved around to balance the circle. Snape had obviously been given the incantation they were using because he raised his wand, which emitted a golden beam that met the others at the centre of the circle.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Voldemort suspiciously. "How did you get past my wards?"

"Well, Tom, it looks like I'm not alone after all," said Harry, feeling enormously relieved. "Perhaps I should introduce you? This is Professor McGonagall, the Headmistress of Hogwarts, and this --"

"Wonderful!" said Voldemort. "I won't have to rely on that quisling, Weedly, to dispose of her, after all. Avada Kedavra," he said pointing his wand at her. There was a flash of green light, but nothing happened, except for McGonagall turning a withering glare on Voldemort.

"Still having trouble with that new wand of yours, Tom?" mocked Harry. Obviously, whatever magic the inner circle was using, it incorporated a powerful shield, possibly a Boomerang Shield. "And these are some of my Hogwarts teachers: Professors Lupin, Tonks, and Trolove. And my friends: Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. You've already had the pleasure of meeting Ginny Weasley; she visited your castle, remember?" taunted Harry.

After failing to even streak McGonagall's mascara, Voldemort tried another Killing Curse on Lupin; but when that also failed, he realised it was useless. However, he became so incensed at the memory of the humiliation visited upon him by Ginny Weasley that he tried one on her, anyway -- with the same result. Clearly frustrated, he decided he had suffered enough humiliation for one day. Pointing his wand upwards, he gave the incantation to Disapparate. But nothing happened.

"You really should demand your money back from Mr Ollivander, Tom, I think he sold you a dud," sniggered Harry, as Voldemort repeatedly tried, and failed, to Disapparate away. In desperation, he attempted to walk out of the circle, but he couldn't -- it was totally impenetrable.

"Hmm ... looks like you're trapped, Tom," said Harry, grinning.

"This is all rather pointless, Potter," retorted Voldemort, attempting to regain his composure. "As I attempted to explain to you earlier, this is an impasse, a stalemate -- or are you really too stupid to understand the meaning of the words? Let me spell it out for you, boy: We both have a protective shield. I cannot touch you, and you cannot touch me. So what, exactly, is the point of attempting to detain me? Let me assure you: I do not enjoy the pleasure of your company and I rather hoped that the feeling might be mutual."

Harry looked questioningly at Jason, who nodded meaningfully to the others. They were obviously awaiting his signal, and in unison they intoned a short spell. The yellow cone immediately began glowing brighter and brighter while the green cone surrounding it slowly faded. In a matter of moments it had disappeared completely.

"Harry, did you ever wonder what colour undies these Infernal Emperors wear? I'm betting they're black. Shall we find out?" asked Jason with a wicked grin.

"Levicorpus," said Harry, unnecessarily pointing his wand at Voldemort for theatrical effect. Suddenly Voldemort was hanging upside-down, five feet above the ground, his robes hanging over his head to reveal two skinny white legs and a pair of black underpants. A cry of outrage rang out from the assembled Death Eaters, many of whom charged towards the inner circle, flinging curses. Unfortunately for them, the shield incorporated into the magical circle was a Boomerang Shield, and the Death Eaters' curses rebounded on them with devastating effect. When the loyal Death Eaters realised they could not use magic, they attempted to physically attack the witches and wizards. But they were unable to touch them or penetrate their circle to go to their Master's assistance. There was nothing they could do but witness the wretched humiliation of their Master, who was screaming at Harry to put him down.

"Liberacorpus," said Harry obligingly. Voldemort fell in a crumpled heap on the ground. As he staggered unsteadily to his feet, Harry grinned, pointing his wand menacingly at him. "Well, Tom, it looks like it's not a stalemate, after all. I think the correct word is checkmate. My shield is working just fine, but yours seems to be on the blink. I think my friends may have broken it. And they also appear to be preventing you from leaving. Looks bad, Tom; would you like to say a final farewell to your supporters before I kill you? Oh, and by the way, you won't be coming back again. You are no longer immortal; all of your Horcruxes have been destroyed -- every ... last ... one ... of them."

Voldemort knew he had reached the end of the road. But despite the utterly unexpected reversal of fortunes of the day, he was still proud, still arrogant, and still totally committed to his cause and his evil beliefs. He dusted down his robes and asked casually, "How many Horcruxes did you destroy, Potter?"

Harry had a flash of inspiration. He guessed what Voldemort had in mind, and although it wasn't how he had always imagined the final scene, he somehow decided it was for the best. Maybe his connection to the Source had subtly changed him. He was no longer consumed with hatred for Voldemort; he no longer hungered for revenge. He did not want to kill anyone in cold blood ... not even Voldemort ... not if he didn't have to. Maybe this was a better way for it to end.

"I repeat," said Voldemort testily, "how many of my Horcruxes did you destroy?"

"I told you," replied Harry, "I even described each one and where it was hidden. They were all destroyed -- all five of them!"

"What are you on about Harry?" blurted out Ron. "Can't you count?"

Hermione, who was standing next to Ron in the circle, and had immediately tweaked to Harry's plan, gave Ron a withering glare and said pointedly, "Sorry, Ron, but we haven't told you about the last one yet, the one in Ravenclaw's wand."

Ron did not understand why Harry and Hermione were both claiming they had only destroyed five Horcruxes, but the expression on Hermione's face made it clear that she was not to be contradicted. Obviously something was afoot. "Great, wonderful," said Ron. "So we've got all five of them. Now we can dispose of this evil git for good!"

"Silence, imbecile!" barked Voldemort at Ron. He had the information he needed.

The sixth Horcrux was safe! But, of course, it had to be -- even he had no idea where it was concealed, only that it was in some other dream reality. Snape could not possibly have obtained the information from his mind because it wasn't there; he'd Obliviated the memory. The final Horcrux was intact, and so, too, was his immortality. He would die with dignity on his own terms ... and he would return ... and the next time he would win.

"Faithful Death Eaters," he said in a haughty, magnified voice. "I must admit that things have not gone to plan today. I underestimated the power of our enemies, the cunning of Dumbledore, the treachery of Snape, and the unexpected power of the Potter boy. Today, we have lost a battle, but we shall win the war, I promise you! When I lost my body attempting to kill Potter as a baby, something most unusual happened: My body disappeared in a flash of light; nothing was left but my wand. Why was that? Because, I had taken measures to guarantee my immortality. My enemies, who seek my destruction, have gone to great lengths to thwart those measures. They delude themselves into believing that they have succeeded -- but they have not! I have outwitted them all!

"The time has come for me to make a tactical retreat and to discard this body, the way a snake discards its superfluous skin. But this I promise you: I shall return, very soon, and I shall be victorious! You will know with certainty that I am indeed immortal, devoted followers. When I die, there will be a flash of light, some smoke, and this body will disappear -- completely."

Voldemort stood up straight and stared hatefully at his nemesis, Harry Potter. "This upstart Potter thinks that I, the great Lord Voldemort, the Immortal One, will allow him the pleasure of killing me -- but I will not. I cannot be killed. I am truly immortal! Yes, my body will be destroyed today; but I shall not even allow Potter that small pleasure. I shall destroy it myself, just as I did seventeen years ago when I first proved my immortality. Devoted followers, remain faithful and wait for me; I shall return very soon. The disappearance of my body will be my pledge to you!"

Voldemort turned and purposefully pointed his wand at his hated enemy. "I fooled you, Potter, along with your precious Dumbledore, Snape, and all the rest -- there was a sixth Horcrux. But it's too late now for you to destroy it -- Avada Kedavra," he trumpeted victoriously.

In the seconds it took for the flash of green light to erupt from Voldemort's wand and rush towards Harry before rebounding off his Boomerang Shield and speeding back to strike Voldemort square in the chest, Harry just had time to cry out, "I destroyed it!" In the moment before he died, the expression of jubilation vanished from Voldemort's face. There was no flash of light, no smoke, no pyrotechnics -- nothing. Voldemort did not go out in a blaze of glory; but, to the horror of his astounded followers, he simply toppled backwards, crashing lifelessly to the ground, his face frozen in an expression of indescribable horror and defeat.