Wild Magic - Chapter 36

Harry wasn't sure what had happened. One moment he was fighting Death Eaters and the next he was unconscious. He thought for a moment. It said something about his life that situations like these were becoming common. Around six months ago he had been tied to a gravestone alone. Slowly, the memories of Voldemort showing up started to form. It hadn't gone as bad as he had expected, but it didn't go well for him. He had always known that Voldemort was powerful. That was a fact that he didn't doubt, but this had been insane.

Hogwarts had told him that he needed to increase his ability to absorb magic. Her method was a targeted erosion, slowly expanding to allow a smoother flow. Fighting against Voldemort was like using a pressure washer to carve a path much faster. It traded control with speed. The sudden influx of power had knocked him for a loop.

If he stayed with the water metaphor, his drain had expanded to allow more magic to be absorbed at a better rate. Previously, the entrance from ambient magic to his core was similar to a basin with a standard size drain trying to handle a constant river that would overflow due to the unbalanced transfer. Now, the drain had expanded to the point where it was basically the same size as the basin. It was a pipeline directly into his reservoir.

He slowly came back to awareness surrounded by darkness. Rough chains wrapped around his body tightly, making breathing a chore. The room around him took form as his mind cleared. He scrunched his brow in confusion. This wasn't a dungeon, it was a basement. The floor had nicely laid tiles and wooden pillars were spaced out along the walls. He noticed that the chains were bound to the chair, just wrapped around him. This place didn't read 'Death Eater' to him, but it lacked the little touches that would mark it as Muggle.

There was magic in the air. He could feel it slowly flowing into him. It felt stronger than the isolated tavern, but not quite the level as Hogsmeade. Until now, the wars he had encountered in the past had been a constant, low hum of energy. Here, there were half a dozen layered on top of each other to the point where it was almost a roar. Whoever set them up did not want to be found. It struck him as odd that such excessive use of power didn't attract any attention.

He waited for someone to come check on him. Time passed way too slowly for his liking. Knowing Voldemort, the ego-maniac was probably gathering all of his followers to make a big show. Harry didn't understand the thought process. The self-proclaimed Dark Lord kills a wizard that hasn't even finished his schooling. Truly, a feat worthy of legends.

The fact that some spells tossed by Voldemort kicked his progress into hyperdrive was a little concerning. Harry had been around Dumbledore when Headmaster had used magic, and it hadn't felt any different than anyone else. Maybe Voldemort was putting more power into his spells while Dumbledore was more controlled. He would have to test the idea once he was back at Hogwarts.

If he ever got back to Hogwarts. He hoped that Amelia had gotten to safety. Most of the Death Eaters had been taken care out. Lucius was dead. Fudge probably survived, though he didn't know if that was a good thing or not. There was that one surviving Auror that hadn't been a Death Eater. The lockdown wards most likely vanished once they captured him. That would mean Amelia could have called for more Aurors for backup.

Harry felt the chains around him loosen. It was more than that, the conjured material was fading away. He was absorbing the magic that had created them. Another few seconds and they vanished completely. Harry stood, stretched, and felt around with his magic. A cluster of energy was growing upstairs. He took that as a sign that the Death Eaters were gathering.

There was a beacon of power among them that was obviously Voldemort. The rest didn't feel all that strong. Sure, they had more power than the students around Hogwarts, but that was expected. A few were actually weaker than some fifth-year witches and wizards. Pureblood supremacy indeed.

Harry didn't have his wand. That made sense. It wasn't in the basement either. He couldn't feel it. The last time he remembered having it was at the tavern. He had no clue if they had grabbed it when they took him. There wasn't reason beyond a trophy for them to take it. Hedwig had hidden the second wand Sirius had given him but didn't want to gamble with her safety to deliver it. They probably would have seen through any obscuring charms on the holster even if he had been wearing it. He could only hope that his wandless magic was good enough. Well, he had wasted enough time. There was only one way out of this place, and he wasn't going to wait until someone came down to get him.

It was time to do something stupid.

Harry examined the door. There weren't any signs of traps, alarms, or any sort of protection. He rolled his shoulders to loosen up his muscles. Charging into the unknown was a plan he was all too familiar with. The trick to doing something stupid was to do it confidently. People can get away with a lot when they act like they know what they are doing.

He traced his finger along the edges of the door. It swung open towards him so he couldn't just kick it open. While it would have made for a great entrance, his chances of getting out of here alive were better if he took a stealthy approach. The hinges fell away, and the door wobbled in the frame. It tilted a bit, then dropped toward him. He caught it and set it to the side. There were voices somewhere nearby, but he couldn't see anyone. He couldn't make out their words. Their tone was cruel and mocking even among their peers.

Harry took a step out into the house. The house became silent as he approached the source of the voices. His echoing steps were the only sound as he entered the room. He stopped to scan the area. A long table filled with food stretched nearly the entire length.

"Nice spread," Harry commented, placing a couple of items on his plate. "A bit heavy, but it looks tasty." He paused. "A bit heavy, I sound like Fleur."

He turned to face the assembled Death Eaters. The weren't wearing their masks. He vaguely recognized a few among them. Most importantly, his eyes locked onto Pettigrew. The animagus was shivering. Harry calmly put the plate back on the table. He then strode toward the traitor. The Death Eaters put on a brave facade; he was just one wizard.

"Move," he ordered.

The group split in magically enforced lockstep. It gave him an unobstructed path to Pettigrew. The animagus changed to his rat for only for it to forcefully be undone. He tried again for the same result. The panic on his face increased as he tried to transform with even more urgency.

"Did you know," Harry came to a stop before Pettigrew. "That half of the bones in the human body are in the hands and feet?"

Pettigrew shook his head. The portly wizard raised his hands, palms up toward Harry. He struggled to put them down only managing to cause them to shake even more.

"It makes it kind of silly, right?" Harry asked.

"What?" Pettigrew couldn't stop himself from asking.

"The threat," Harry said casually. "I'm going to break every bone in your body." He rolled his eyes. "Really, all I need to do is break half."

Harry placed his foot on top of Pettigrew's and push. The cracking of bones was loud enough to hear over the screams. Pettigrew dropped to his hands and knees.

"That's what? An eighth," Harry looked over his shoulder at the assembled Death Eaters. "Do you think he'll pass out at a quarter?"

Harry set his foot on one of Pettigrew's hands.

"My, my Harry," a familiar, cold voice said. "I never expected to see this from you."

Harry shifted his attention to Voldemort. He locked eyes with the Dark Lord as he increased the pressure. Pettigrew screamed as the bones in his hand shattered at a much slower rate than his foot. Harry stopped once the popping stopped.

"Tom," Harry wiped the bottom of his shoe on Pettigrew's shoulder. "Did you grab my wand?"

"Apologies," Voldemort replied in a conversational tone. "It slipped my mind."

"That's a shame," Harry sighed. "I really like that wand."

He turned his attention to the assembled Death Eaters. They were completely still, aside from their breathing and wild eye movements.

"I'll just have to make do," he looked at Voldemort. "May I?"

"I like this side to you, Harry," Voldemort shook his head. "Shame I have to kill you."

Voldemort waved a hand in acceptance. This dance was the most fun the dark lord had had in years.

"Present your wands," Harry ordered.

The Death Eaters stiffly followed the order. Harry went down the line, testing each one. A few burst into flames turning the wands into ash, one melted, and a couple literally jumped from his hand. Finally, he came to a wizard that was tall and unhealthily thin. The wand presented looked simple enough. It was roughly a foot long and light in color with some darker swirls of natural wood grain. Harry picked it up. There was a connection. It was far from perfect, but functional.

"Your name?" Harry asked the wizard.

"Walden McNair," the Death Eater choked out.

"I know you," Harry smiled at the man. "You execute harmless little animals."

The man tried to move but found he couldn't.

"What is this made of?" Harry asked.

"Birch with a wraithworm bone core," Walden fought each word.

"Wraithworm," Harry repeated. "I've never heard of those."

"Serpents that have an affinity to the undead," Voldemort explained.

"Interesting," Harry felt the weight of the wand in his hand.

He tapped McNair on one shoulder, passed the tip of the wand across his throat, and then tapped the other shoulder. The Death Eater gasped, then fell to the ground. His head rolled a little away from where the body lay.

"The ghosts of innocent animals everywhere now rejoice," Harry muttered.

"Did you find one?" Voldemort asked lazily.

"This one will work," Harry spun it along his fingers. "Are we waiting on any more of your minions?"

"No," Voldemort replied with a cruel smile. "Are you ready?"

Harry casually walked over to the opposite side of the room from Voldemort. He took a loose dueling stance before motioning Voldemort to do the same. The Dark Lord let out an honest laugh and did the same.

"First we bow," Harry said mocking the night in the graveyard.

~
NOTE:
You have no idea how hard it was not to end the chapter here.
~

Voldemort started the moment they finished bowing. Much to Harry's surprise, the Dark Lord didn't open with The Killing Curse. He didn't recognize most of the spells, but he could feel the horrible intent that fueled each one. Harry dodged the onslaught and lifting chunks of the floor to block those he couldn't.

Harry adapted as he went, incorporating the spells Voldemort launched at him after seeing them a couple of times. They lacked finesses and weren't fueled by years of dark intent. Still, they had some decent strength to them. Voldemort was leagues more familiar with them than Harry and was easily able to deflect the spells. The Death Eaters hit by the redirected magic screamed loud enough to attest to the effectiveness.

"You would make a fine apprentice," Voldemort said as he continued his assault.

"You would have made a good teacher," Harry replied.

The comment, rather the honesty that Harry placed in the words, made Voldemort pause for just a moment. Still, he was able to deflect the short chain of spells that followed.

"Enough," Voldemort snapped.

The familiar green of the Killing Curse launched toward Harry. He flicked his wand, a nearby Death Eater lurched forward intercepting the spell. The sight made Voldemort snarl. Using the Killing Curse was not an easy thing to do. It took a considerable amount of power and intent. Still, Voldemort was able to cast it a few times in rapid order before he needed to change tactics. Each bast of green was intercepted by another Death Eater. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that at least ten of his Death Eaters had fallen since the duel had started.

Harry came to a stop as the latest Death Eater dropped. This entire time he could feel the magic flowing into him. It seemed like each spell helped absorb the energy smoothly. There was only the slightest hitch when Voldemort put some real power behind his spells. He couldn't remember the last time he had been free of the pressure for this long.

Voldemort roared, sending a chain of spells at him meant to maim and torture rather than kill. Harry lifted his free hand. The first spell splashed against his palm, causing a raised red welt. However, the ones following it simply faded away.

The Dark Lord stopped his assault. He studied the wizard that stood across from him. The boy should be writhing in pain on the floor as his body cooked itself from the inside. It was a rather nasty chain that Bellatrix had come up with. The first was a shield breaker, followed by an altered body bind, then a blood boiling curse with a blood replenishing charm right at the end. It had reduced powerful wizards to pathetic puddles begging for mercy. The increased production of blood mixed with the boiling curse would prolong the suffering by providing some minor healing.

Yet, the young wizard acted like it was nothing more than a bludgeoning spell. Harry examined his palm and watched as the welt faded away.

"Try again," Harry said lowering his wand.

Voldemort roared as he unleashed every curse he knew. The air between them flooded with a myriad of colors from the multiple forms of magic. Grit, blood, bone particles, chunks of the home, and even pieces of his Death Eaters chumming the air.

Finally, he stopped. His red eyes burned with rage and his body thrummed with power. The air gradually started to clear. Idly, he saw that only three of his minions remained upright. Closer inspection was needed to see if they were alive. Motion on the other side of the room caught his attention.

Harry coughed and brushed off a layer of grossness from his face.

"Thank Merlin I had my mouth closed," Harry said.

"How?" Voldemort whispered.

"Sheer dumb luck," Harry replied.

The young wizard held up the borrowed wand. It was now a charred stick. He tossed it over to the tangle of body parts that had once belonged to the assembled Death Eaters.

"What are you?" Voldemort asked.

"The same thing I've always been," Harry shrugged.

"And what is that?" Voldemort growled.

Harry's green eyes sparked with power.

"Better than you," Harry lunged forward.

The young wizard cleared the distance in the blink of an eye. One hand latched onto Voldemort's throat while the other grabbed the wand. He couldn't get a handle of the grip, but that wasn't what he needed. The sharp snap of wood sounded too loud amid the enduring chaos. Voldemort still had the grip of the wand in his hand while Harry held the remaining bit.

Voldemort yelled, his unrestrained fury shaking the house down to the foundation. He yanked Harry's hand away from his throat only to find it replaced with the tip of his broken wand. The sharp wood pressed against his Adam's Apple.

"Confringo," Harry said flatly.

Voldemort's head was explosively removed from his body as his throat exploded. The headless corpse slumped to the floor leaving Harry alone with the three remaining Death Eaters. A quick look told him that one was dead, somehow drained of all fluids, while the other two were still alive, barely. He would let them sort that out themselves.

Harry picked up the other portion of the broken wand. He didn't think it was a good idea to try to use it again, but it would help his story. Unfortunately, that left him with a selection of wands that were subpar at the very most.

He shrugged and started to search for a door outside.