Disclaimer:
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 116: Are You Done?
The only answer Voldemort received came in the form of giant rocks falling from the sky.
"V! Give me all the magic you have!" The Dark Lord screamed as more magic was channeled through his body.
Powerful barriers were created all around him. Thick layers of semi-translucent magical construction were intended to save his life.
A hole opened in the thick layer of black clouds, and Harry descended, looking down at all the destruction being caused.
The previously beautiful and pristine grassy plain was now covered in gaping holes and flames as tall as buildings.
The ivory towers that once filled the landscape had now been reduced to smoking ruins.
From the rubble, a figure began to move with difficulty. The healing potion that he took had repaired some of his wounds, but his condition was still terrible.
"You are only alive because of V. I hope you know that." Harry's voice reached every part of this pocket dimension. "Unfortunately for you…V has already exhausted most of his reserves."
"Urgg…" Voldemort stood up, his bleeding hand grasping at one large piece of what used to be a white tower.
He looked up at the sky. "P-Potter…how ar-"
"The Ring of Influence," V responded before Voldemort could ask.
Harry smiled. "You realized it before I did. I wish you had told me, but…" He shook his head. "I probably would have dismissed it, as it would have required breaking our connection." That was the thing that terrified him the most. He would never have agreed to do it even if he knew how much power he could gain.
The only reason he went with it was that he had no other choice, and the only reason he succeeded was that Ginny was there for him.
"Ring of Influence?..." The words resounded in Voldemort's mind.
This was an old, obscure theory that not many wizards knew about. One that tried to explain how wizards and witches were able to perform magic.
The theory was that someone with the gift of magic could perceive this mystical energy called magic and make use of it. Channel the energy through their bodies and into their wands. Construct the spell in their minds and perform the wand movement.
What differentiates a newbie wizard from a veteran one is something called the Ring of Influence. This was what determined the size of the area from which the caster was able to draw magic.
The bigger the area, the more potent the spells could be, as there would be more magic to channel.
The more one trains their magic over the course of their life, the more this Ring of Influence expands. Like a muscle, but with no apparent upper limit. At least that was the theory, as it was never proven to be true.
"No…" Voldemort shuddered, for he knew how much time Harry had experienced inside the Frozen World.
If the Ring of Influence actually existed, then this would mean that Potter had been expanding it over and over, for more than thirty thousand years.
The Dark Lord lifted himself up and stared at Harry. For some reason, the calm expression on his face made him angrier than anything else that had happened so far.
"You…You are not better than me!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. "I am the most powe-"
"Shut your mouth." Harry's magic covered the entire landscape. It touched Voldemort and applied a powerful silencing effect on him. It wasn't a spell, just a reflection of his will using magic as a medium.
"I wasn't talking to you," said Harry as he descended. "I was talking to my friend."
He hovered a short distance away from the Dark Lord. "V, I wanted you to…well, you know."
Harry landed on the ground, and the landscape started to change.
The world shimmered and rebuilt itself around them. Voldemort, silenced and broken, watched the towers he had toppled rise from their own dust. He saw the craters in the earth fill and smooth over, the flames retreating back into nothingness.
He saw the perfect, pristine battlefield restored, as if all of his efforts had been nothing more than a child's tantrum, easily tidied away.
He stared at the face of the Dark Lord for a moment and found the terror in his eyes.
"Are you done fighting?" Harry asked. The runes on his body gained a soft shine. "In that case…"
Voldemort clenched his teeth and fists with so much force that he started to bleed. The last reserves of V flowed into his body, making it gain a baleful red aura.
"Ahhh!" The Dark Lord broke the silencing spell that had been placed on him. "Die!" All his magic became focused on the palms of his hands and shot out at Harry as a formless spell.
With a mixture of rage and desperation, Voldemort didn't even attempt to construct his spells properly and launched a simple but effective burst of magic meant to kill anything in its path.
"So this is your best." The glow on his runes became more intense. He extended the palm of his right hand.
He didn't cast a shield. He didn't cast a counter-curse. He simply caught it.
The formless, baleful red magic slammed into Harry's palm and stopped. It didn't explode or dissipate. It just hung there, like a furious ball of murderous intent, pinned in place by Harry's will.
Voldemort's eyes widened, and the last of his power drained from him as he tried in vain to push more magic into the beam.
Harry looked at the captured spell with mild curiosity, then closed his fist.
The spell vanished with a soft pop, leaving nothing but a faint wisp of smoke.
"Now that you're done," Harry said, his voice devoid of malice, just stating a fact. "It is time."