Harry Potter and Salazar's Talisman

Chapter 21

Reign of the Dark Lord

Harry landed again at Voldemort's feet. A glance around showed them back at - well back at the compound. Harry blinked. Everything was almost identical to the way it had been. The line of tents for the inner circle of Voldemort's supporters lined one side of the camp, with his own on the end. The fire, encircled by the oversized wing-backed chairs, blazed across the small clearing. Even the fencing tent was re-constructed.

There was activity everywhere. It seemed that every death eater that had escaped Azkaban or alluded the dementors kiss was back in the Dark Lord's service.

"Come along, Harry," said Voldemort before Harry could get a more detailed view. He moved towards what had always been Voldemort's tent and Harry was more or less dragged with him.

They emerged into Voldemort's private domain (the office within appearing the same as Harry remembered) and were met by several surprised reactions.

"So it's true."

"This is terrible."

"Oh, Professor."

Harry could barely tolerate his students' comments on his new humiliation. He vaguely thanked God that Draco wasn't in the tent to expound on how stupid he was.

And it was stupid, plain and simple. How could he have been so idiotic? How could he have let this happen? He had played directly into Voldemort's hands and now he really was helpless.

He looked around at his loyal Gryffindors who sat patiently in Voldemort's office as if this was just another lesson. They looked at him as if expecting him to simply explain how he would defeat Voldemort in this situation.

Voldemort settled into the chair behind his huge desk. He looked up at Harry. "No comment, Harry?"

"What are they doing here?" Harry asked, indicating the students.

Voldemort smiled. "They are here because I wish them here," he simply said. "They have aided me greatly and shall be rewarded. They will become a part of my new world order."

Sean shot to his feet. "I'll never join you," he said full of righteous indignation.

"Oh do sit down, Mr. McIves," said Voldemort. "Your melodrama is lost on me."

"But-"

Cindy yanked on his arm until he returned to his place on the sofa beside her.

Harry tried to ignore them. "And just what is this new world order?"

"I intend to take the wizarding world out of the shadows," said Voldemort. "My plans remain as they always have."

"You can't simply go around killing anyone who doesn't agree with you," said Sean.

Harry blinked at him. Boy did that sound familiar.

Voldemort chuckled. "Of course I can, my boy," said Voldemort. "That is who I am." He looked back at Harry. "And now that I finally have your cooperation..." he trailed off not needing to elucidate. "Oh Harry, don't look so crestfallen. I would have very much preferred to have you by my side in the traditional way. But we tried that, didn't we? You couldn't seem to get around the prophecy. Your noble nature kept getting in the way.

"You must see that this way is better," Voldemort went on. "You won't be sacrificing yourself anymore."

"So what?" snapped Harry. "I'm only here for your amusement now? Why didn't you just let me die?"

"Harry don't you understand yet?" said Voldemort, somehow retaining a hold on his patience. "The connection is still at full strength. If one of us dies, so does the other."

"Yeah, I get it, but what do I do now?" Harry's bitterness was creeping up on him again.

"Ah that's the sweet part," said Voldemort. "You can only do what I tell you to do. You are finally truly under my control."

"Why can't Professor Potter do anything?"

The two looked back at the students, recalling their presence.

"Quite simply, Miss Larsen, because he didn't die," Voldemort explained. "He does not know deaths' secrets therefore the basic abilities that are inherent to ghosts haven't been made known to him."

"So you've made him helpless," squeaked Missy.

Voldemort rose from his chair. He grinned unrepentantly. "Precisely." He moved toward the entrance. "I must see to my Death Eaters. Most should be assembled now," he murmured. "When I return I will have jobs for the three of you." He eyed Harry. "Behave Harry."

"Do I have a choice?" Harry snarled back.

Voldemort chuckled. "Not remotely," he said and left the tent.

Harry took several deep breaths (what seemed like it anyway, being in ghost form he wasn't sure) to reign his anger. Losing his temper would do nothing. He couldn't do anything anyway.

As soon as Voldemort had left the tent, the children were on their feet.

"So what do we do?"

"We can fix this, can't we?"

"There must be a way."

"Just do what he says," said Harry. "You can't discount his malignancy. You can see where his 20 year obsession has left me. He will kill for his purposes."

"But there has to be a way to help you," said Missy.

"Yes," Sean agreed. "The Amulet was the key. We can-"

"In case you didn't notice," said Cindy. "The Amulet is around Voldemort's neck."

"Yes but-"

"Sean," said Harry gravely. "The spells used to activate the Amulet were two sided. We would both have to do them again to reverse this - this - the effect."

"But there must be something we can do."

Harry?

"I agree-"

"Shh," said Harry. Draco?

Yes. Where are you?

In Voldemort's tent. Where are you?

"What is it, Professor?" said Cindy.

"Mr. Malfoy is here," said Harry.

"Oh, he'll know what to do," said Sean. "He's the one who figured it out first."

"I beg your pardon," sniffed Cindy. "I figured it out."

"You only speculated," said Sean. "He had-"

"Harry!" Draco immerged into the tent, breathless.

"What's going on out there?" said Harry.

"The aurors are coming," said Draco, taking in the occupants of the tent.

"What?" said Sean. "Already?"

Harry blinked, surprised himself. "How?"

"They were tipped off by a large surge of Dark magic," Draco explained.

"That makes sense," said Cindy. "The Ministry has sensors. They would have picked up on it. You should have seen the power he used to recreate this compound."

Sean and Missy muttered their agreement.

"So what's he doing?" Harry asked Draco.

Draco sighed. "Well obviously, he's preparing the defenses but," he swallowed. "Harry, they don't stand a chance."

"What do you mean?"

Draco glanced at Cindy. "Well the girl is right. He's got all the power - all your power," said Draco. "They'll get through the initial barriers. When they attack him, and he retaliates..."

"Oh God," murmured Harry. It'll be a blood bath.

"You've got to stop him."

Harry glared at Draco. "How?" he demanded. "I can't even move unless he calls or tells me too. How am I going to stop him?"

"Granger - er - Hermione did some research," said Draco. "She said you have to use your mind. You can't just take a step."

"But I can move my arms and bend my legs," said Harry.

Draco nodded. "But to propel yourself from one location to another, you have to use your mind."

"How?" said Harry angrily.

"Well damn it Harry, you're the most powerful wizard in-"

"WAS, Draco," he growled back. "Was."

"Use what's left of your meager intelligence," Draco shouted. "You can't just give up. You have to find a way. Hermione said you could use your mind to displace your mass from one space to another. If bloody Peeves can do it-"

"Sounds like apparating."

Everyone turned to the door.

"Manelin, what are you doing here?" said Sean.

"Stupid question, McIves," snorted Dante. "He's taken a lot of us from school."

Oh God. He's taking the children.

So do something, Potter.

Great. More guilt.

"Wait, he's right," Missy piped up. "It does sound like apparating." She turned to Harry. "Maybe you could try that."

It was worth a shot. Harry focused on Voldemort and tried to apparate. His life certainly was a nightmare again. But nothing happened.

"I don't think it's exactly the same," said Draco. "And you should try small first. Just try moving toward me. Just relax and focus on moving toward me."

"Concentrate, Harry," said Voldemort.

"I'm trying."

"I told you to relax," said Voldemort. Harry felt him stop in front of him. Far too close as the pain in his head could attest. "Focus."

Harry opened his eyes and stared into Voldemort's burning red eyes. His temper snapped. "How can I concentrate with you hovering over me. I can't even think-"

"You did it!"

Harry's attention snapped back to the present. Draco was right in front of him.

"What did you do?" said Sean curiously.

Harry looked around. He had moved clear across the office.

"It was a memory," said Harry softly.

"Maybe that's the trick," said Draco. "You've used your memories before to jump start your internal magic."

His internal magic? Was that what allowed ghosts in the magical world to linger? Some sort of desperate hold on life through ones internal magic? Harry didn't even want to speculate on-

"Harry, try it again," Draco interrupted his thoughts.

Accessing his internal magic had become second nature for him, but when he reached for them this time, he felt nothing.

Harry shook his head. "Nothing."

Draco was pacing again.

"Well, what was the memory?" Dante asked with interest.

Harry glanced at him. "It was when Voldemort first taught me to apparate," said Harry. "I lost my temper."

"Well there you go," said Cindy. "You need the emotion as well."

"So, what then?" snapped Harry. "I can't move unless I'm pissed off."

But it worked. Harry moved toward Cindy as he spoke.

Cindy looked a little flustered. "Well any emotion I image would work," she said. "But if anger is readily accessible, then why not use it."

"Sorry," muttered Harry. The temper he had worked so hard to control seemed to be getting the best of him again.

"She's right, Harry," said Draco. "If anyone deserves to be angry right now, it's you. Use it."

It didn't seem quite right but Harry couldn't fault the logic. Clinging to his anger and resentment, he was able to move freely around the office, pacing like the caged animal he felt like.

"Alright, so I can move now," said Harry. "What do I do?"

"First-" Draco clutched his left arm. He looked up at Harry. "It's begun," he said.

An explosion resounded through the compound, shaking the walls.

"He's calling me," said Draco. "I have to go. Stop him, Harry."

"How?"

Draco moved towards the door. "Just talk to him."

Harry watched him leave. But how was he supposed to talk to Voldemort when he didn't know where he was? The choice was taken from him as pain exploded in his scar.

Harry clutched his head and felt himself pulled into the vortex.

************

He didn't even get a chance to hit his knees. Voldemort pulled him up, an arm around his chest. The pain was almost unbearable.

"Take a good look, Harry," said Voldemort in his ear. "Those fools think to curtail me before I get organized. They have no idea what they're up against." He chuckled. "My Death Eaters could have taken care of this paltry assault themselves, but I simply had to be a part of it."

Voldemort released him and took a step back. Harry reached for his internal magic to block the pain so he could see the results of the first attempt to subdue the Dark Lord.

Using his internal magic worked. Harry wished it hadn't as he viewed the destruction before him.

Bodies sprinkled the field as Death Eaters wandered among them, checking for life or putting out fires. The smell of blood and chard flesh hung in the air. The smell of death.

Harry hit his knees then. What have I done?

The ripples of lingering magic clung to debris and smoke. Even nature itself couldn't disperse the power that had been released in the area.

"Come along, Harry," said Voldemort as he spun away and strode back into the forest. "News of my first victory should be reaching Albus by now. It is time to prepare."

Harry felt himself physically towed back to the interior of the compound. Evidence of celebration was apparent all around them. Voldemort encouraged them as he moved among his faithful minions, praising their efficiency and promising them power and notoriety.

Harry wished he could be sick. Most of them were still dirty and tattered from the battle, but their jubilation overshadowed their fatigue.

Just how did all these people escape retribution? And where the hell was Draco? And Lucius? And Sever-

Oh God. Snape was dead. The memory hit Harry hard as it sank in. Another personal loss for Harry. While their relationship in the later years of Harry's academic career was obscure, ranging from teacher to personal physician, Harry now considered Severus a collegue, a friend. It would be a major loss for the wizarding world as well. Snape was a brilliant Potions Master and a powerful wizard. Voldemort would surely...

Harry didn't get that one. Snape was one of Voldemort's most powerful Death Eaters, even if he had been a spy. It had never bothered Voldemort before. Why would he kill him?

"You killed Snape," muttered Harry.

"Indeed."

"Why?"

Voldemort stopped and turned to face Harry. "Why do you think?"

Harry frustration was palpable. "Can't you just tell me?" he snapped.

Voldemort grabbed his jaw. "Temper, temper, Harry," Voldemort said, shaking his head.

Shaking with pain, Harry clenched his teeth. "You said you didn't need him anymore."

"Very good, Harry," said Voldemort. "Why?"

"You said since you could control me now."

"Yes. You can't be physically hurt now, so..." he trailed off suggestively.

"But-"

"And you favored him far too much," Voldemort continued. He released Harry's face and continued walking.

"Are you saying, you killed him because he was my friend?" Harry demanded.

"In a manner of speaking."

"So who's next?" said Harry, his ire fueling his resentment. "Ron? Hermione? Drac-" He stopped himself, realization gripping him. "Where's Lucius?" he asked softly.

Voldemort chuckled. "Oh Harry. How you do go on."

Anyone even coming close to any sort of father-figure for Harry had always angered Voldemort. "Where is he?" said Harry.

Voldemort sighed. "He is still at the Retreat," he said flatly.

"The Retreat?" said Harry, confused. "Didn't you call him?"

Silence.

"Is he dead?"

"Come along, Harry."

"Voldemort."

Voldemort stopped again and Harry saw contemplation cross his expression. Finally, he looked at Harry and grinned, in a proudly evil sort of way. "Let's just say, Lucius continues to enjoy good health," said Voldemort. "For now."

"What-"

Voldemort waved his hand and began walking again. "That's enough talk of Lucius. He is alive. If you wish him to remain that way, then you will desist pestering me about him."

So they were back to that. Threatening people he cared about. Would Voldemort carry through with his threats this time? But Harry could only do what Voldemort told him to do. How could he do something wrong? Confused again, Harry remained quiet.

They re-entered the tent and Harry was surprised to see it empty. Alarmed he asked, "Where are the kids?"

Voldemort fixed himself a drink and settled into his chair. "Relax Harry, they are fine. I have just isolated them until I can insure their cooperation."

Harry nodded. "And what about my family?" he asked carefully.

Swirling his drink, Voldemort grinned. "After taking so much care with securing the heirs, do you think I would hurt them?"

Harry really didn't think so. "Ginger?"

"Your lovely wife is a mother first now," Voldemort reminded him. "Her job is to care for her children, which she will do."

"And Sirius?"

"Sirius is here, of course."

Harry gaze snapped up. "He is?"

"Of course," said Voldemort. "He has sworn himself to me, for your sake. He takes his obligation to you very seriously. And he will now protect me as fiercely as he has protected you."

"What?" said Harry. Sirius? Protect Voldemort. "I don't believe you."

Voldemort chuckled. "Harry, why would I lie, when the truth is so much more satisfying?"

"But-"

"Your godfather is a very intelligent man," said Voldemort. "He realizes that if I die, you will go with me."

"Hence, his protection," said Harry with understanding.

"Indeed. As long as there is a chance that they can bring you back, he will insure that we are both around to try."

"And is there a chance?" said Harry.

"What do you think?"

Harry didn't think there was a chance in hell but he guessed he should remain hopeful.

"Master?" A voice rose from the door of the office.

"Ah, come in. Come in."

"What are you doing now?" said Harry.

"Just waiting for a suitable messenger," said Voldemort as he stood up.

Harry didn't have a chance to prod as several Death Eaters entered half dragging half supporting three wizards in varying degrees of physical health between them. They were clearly robed as Aurors.

Harry didn't recognize the first one who was presented to Voldemort. Voldemort waved him away.

"No, no. Not him."

The second looked almost as old as Voldemort himself. Voldemort dismissed him as well. The last was dragged closer. Struggling for consciousness, the man raised his head. The hood was pulled down to reveal a shock of red hair and the bloody face of Ron Weasley.

"Voldemort - what - how-"

Voldemort smiled with delight. "How nice to see that the Minister of Magic would allow his own family to participate in the fight again evil."

"I am the Head of the Department of Defense," said Ron, trying to pull his arms free.

"Ron."

Dulled blue eyes were turned to Harry and squinted to focus. "Harry?"

Ron's gaze went back and forth from Voldemort to Harry, his jaw moving silently. Then he speared Voldemort with a fierce look.

"What have you done?"

"I have taken back the life I saved, Ron. For myself," said Voldemort.

"What-"

With a wave of Voldemort's hand, Ron was silenced.

"You will take a message back to the Ministry and to Albus," said Voldemort, pacing thoughtfully. "You will tell them that they should surrender with no resistance."

"Are you-"

"Or I will start killing. It's quite simple Mr. Weasley. They will yield or they will die. They do not have Harry to sacrifice himself for them anymore."

"Voldemort-"

"Be quiet Harry."

Harry's jaw was left open as the words died in his throat.

"As you can see, he is completely under my control," Voldemort told Ron with a self-satisfied grin. "Take him away."

Harry watched in forced submission as Ron was dragged back out of the tent. Before more guilt and remorse could settle over Harry, Voldemort was before him. He gripped Harry's jaw roughly, holding his face up.

"Ah, Harry, my pet," said Voldemort quietly. His other hand raised and a finger slowly trailed up Harry's face, flesh meeting flesh as the connection was intensified. "I am indeed pleased."

Harry closed his eyes and swallowed. The physical pain not nearly as strong as the emotional anguish.

"Let go of your guilt, my son." Harry opened his eyes and met the red gaze. "You have done all you could. Everything that was expected of you and more."

Harry reached up and clutched at Voldemort's wrist. If he could speak, he knew he'd be begging.

Voldemort sighed heavily and let go. Harry collapsed to a heap at his feet. "This is your destiny now, Harry," Voldemort said. "You're mine."