Chapter 46: Alternate End Part 1
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER. IT BELONGS TO JK ROWLING.
A/N: Read, enjoy, and remember not to take either life or my writing too seriously.
Okay, this ending sounded funny when I thought of it, but now that I've written it, not so much. But I'm posting it anyway because there are a couple of funny moments.
The following occurred a few days after Harry and Hermione started having fun in the Room of Requirements.
As Voldemort slowly recovered from another night of agonizing joy and happiness as Harry Potter and his mudblood shagged once more, he knew he had to do something or the body he now had would expire from the suffering long before he was to be resurrected by Potter's blood. Long, deep breaths finally allowed him to regain some control over the shakes that still coursed through his body.
By drawing on his Occlumency and Legilimency, he started to tentatively explore the connection he shared with the Boy-Who-Lived. It was a slow process as Voldemort feared what might happen if he were hit by another happiness blast while his mind was actively exploring the connection. Soon, he had his answer though.
'A part of my soul?' Riddle thought. 'In Potter's mind? How can that be?'
Tom Riddle, being the ultra-brilliant super villain he was, quickly figured out what had happened that night all those years ago when he had tried to kill the child.
As he sat in his Evil Villain Restoration Module, he contemplated this discovery. He feared that Potter might be able to use the connection to discover his plans or discover his servants at Hogwarts. He turned to his faithful… err, available follower. "Wormtail, I need a book."
"Yes, My Lord." Wormtail replied. "Shall it be 'The Hobbit' again?" He asked as he reached for the well-worn book.
"No," the Dark Lord thingy said, but then reconsidered since he seemed to be drawn to stories about little people. "Well, maybe later, but right now I need you to find a copy of 'Problematic Potions of the Past' for me."
"Yes, My Lord." Wormtail replied and hurried off.
"POTIONS!" Voldemort screamed a while later after Wormtail handed him a book. "'PROBLEMATIC POTIONS OF THE PAST' YOU IMBECILE! NOT 'PROBLEMATIC PETUNIAS OF PERU'! Can't you do anything right? CRUCIO CRUCIO CRUCIO!"
The faithful… err, available Death Eater was finally able to retrieve the correct book after only two more tries.
Voldemort flipped through the pages of the book to a section near the end. His fingers ran down the page of 'Purgatorial Purification Panacea'. A potion guaranteed to remove all darkness from a body.
"Let's see, unicorn saliva from a sick unicorn, sunflower petals picked at noon, ground tooth of a snow leopard, blood of a magical virgin of at least thirty years of age... the saliva, tooth and petals aren't a problem but it could take me forever to find a thirty-year-old virgin..." Voldemort murmured to himself. His eyes left the page as he watched Wormtail for a few seconds. "Well, it doesn't say it had to be a female virgin… Wormtail I'm going to need some of your blood."
It took a week, but finally Voldemort coached the faithful… err, available servant into making the potion correctly.
As Tom Riddle eyed the setting sun nervously, he turned to Wormtail and handed him the small bottle of potion. "Get this to Crouch immediately and tell him Potter must take it… AAAAARRRRGGGHHHH!" Voldemort finished with a scream as an all too familiar pleasant sensation came over him.
Through the pain he complained, "It's too early… What did they do? Skip dinner? DAMN YOU POTTER AND YOUR VIRILITY!" His eyes rolled into the back of his head once again as he collapsed in his play…Psychopathic Entity Net Enclosed Lair.
Barty Crouch Jr. eyed the vial of golden-brown liquid that had been delivered to him along with the instructions to ensure Harry Potter consumed it as quickly as possible. He let out a sigh of relief that he had read the instructions. It looked very much like Fire whisky and Crouch had almost chugged the vial as soon as he saw it.
"Potter," Crouch Jr. said to the Boy-Who-Lived-But-Would-Soon-Die-At-The-Hands-Of-His-Master as Defense class ended that day.
"Yes sir?" Harry asked.
"You looked tired today." Crouch said.
"Sorry sir, not been getting much sleep recently." Harry replied as he looked over at his girlfriend who was hiding her blushing grin behind her books and her constant limp by walking slowly.
"Well, we can't have you falling down the steps and killing yourself, can we?" Moody asked as he reached into his desk and pulled out the bottle of golden-brown liquid.
"Here, take this modified pepper-up potion. It's something Aurors keep on themselves to get through those busy nights."
"Yes sir. Thank you, sir." Harry replied as he eyed the liquid. 'Maybe with this I can go five or six times tonight,' he thought as he looked again at his beautiful but still blushing girlfriend who appeared to have the same thoughts.
He quickly pulled the stopper and downed the liquid.
Harry and Hermione were half way down the steps to the Great Hall when the potion kicked in. Harry swayed as he grabbed hold of the railing.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked worried.
"Nothing." Harry replied though it felt like someone had just punched him violently in the stomach.
"You don't look good, Harry." Hermione said in a worried voice. "We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey."
"Really I... I'm fine." Harry stated as a burning sensation coursed through his body. He took a couple of steps down.
"You're not trying to... Harry your eyes... you have black tears in them."
"I really am fine." Harry gritted out. "Let's go eat something." A serious wave of nausea rolled over him and he gave a few dry heaves.
"Harry you really need to go to the medical wing!" Hermione scolded.
"It's nothing, Hermione." Harry whispered through the pain that felt like Snape was boiling him alive in a potion.
"If you don't go see Madam Pomfrey right this instant, we will not be in the Room of Requirements for the next two weeks." Hermione said in her best bossy tone.
Harry's black teared eyes flew open as he swallowed another bile flavored saliva burst when his scar seemed to fill with lava. "Fine." He gasped through the coursing pain. "But I'm sure it's nothing."
"Hmph!" Hermione snorted with a roll of the eyes that wives across the world would recognize. Then, taking her boyfriend by the arm, she guided him toward the medical wing.
"Mister Potter?" Madam Pomfrey asked as the two students walked into the medical wing. Though it was more like Hermione half carrying Harry who was still insisting that nothing was wrong.
"I think he's got something serious." Hermione said as she guided her boyfriend to a bed.
"Nothing... but... but a... small stomach... ache." Harry grunted through gritted teeth as the pain was getting worse.
Poppy's wand was already waving over the young man's body. Soon she was looking at a parchment and muttering. "I've never seen anything like this, but it seems... oh..." Harry's scar ripped open and more black ooze poured from it along with a whistling sound that almost sounded like a scream.
Harry's body seemed to relax and he looked up into Hermione's beautiful eyes. "See? Nothing but a stomach ache," He said as the pain left his body. "Can we go now?"
Hermione rolled her eyes at her boyfriend and just shook her head.
Each night for the next week, Voldemort eyed the setting sun nervously, but as each night came and went without the nerve-racking pain returning he breathed a sigh of relief.
After the seventh night had passed painlessly, he tried his Occulemency and Legilimency again and discovered the link with Potter had been severed. With a sigh of relief he sunk into his favorite daydream of watching the Boy-Who-Lived die.
(A/N Everything else happens the same. We pick the story back up with Ron looking like Harry waking up tied to the tombstone. Of course, now Harry is no longer a Horcrux, so there is no pesky interruption.)
From Chapter 42:
Ron heard a noise at his feet and when he looked down he saw a gigantic snake slithering through the grass, circling the headstone where he was tied. Right before passing out in fear his last thoughts were, 'Why does Harry Potter always get the easy ones?'
Slowly, consciousness returned to Ron. He was glad because the nightmare he'd had was the worst one since he'd eaten four of his mum's chocolate cakes when he had been eight. As his eyes fluttered open, the first thing he realized was that the nightmare had been real. Terror overtook him and he fainted again.
"Revive him again." Voldemort commanded.
"Again." Voldemort commanded thirty seconds later after the great Harry Potter had fainted yet again.
"Again." A minute later.
"Make him take that pepper-up potion this time!" Voldemort suggested as Potter slumped unconscious against the ropes once more. "I want him awake for this."
Wormtail forced the liquid into Ron's mouth. Unfortunately for Ron Weasley, anything entering his mouth is immediately swallowed, even when he's unconscious. The next time Ron was revived, as much terror as he felt, his body refused to slip back into blissful unconsciousness.
"Harry Potter," Voldemort said softly in a deadly cold voice when Wormtail picked him up and help him at Harry's eye level. "Do you know who I am?"
"Mmmmmmbbmm." Ron uttered through the gag in his mouth as he shook his head.
"No... well I'll give you a hint." Riddle said. "It's been three years since you banished me from Quirrell. Remember now?"
'Quirrell?' Ron. 'But... but that means.' Ron thought. Pepper-up potion or no potion, Ron's terror eclipsed it and he slumped again unconsciousness as a large wet spot developed in the front of his robes along with an odor suggesting vacated bowels.
"Fine already." Voldemort whined. "Wormtail, he is ruining my great resurrection. Just do the ritual and then at least I can torture him."
"Yes, My Lord." Wormtail replied and placed the babyish thing into the cauldron.
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"
"Flesh of the servant, w-willingly given, you will revive your master. "
As Wormtail walked toward the tombstone to take Harry's blood he noticed something. 'Is his hair getting lighter? Must be a trick of the firelight.' He thought as he made the cut and took the blood from Harry's arm.
"B-blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe." He said as he poured the blood into the cauldron.
Instantly, the liquid turned blinding gray in color. Wormtail swallowed nervously as he remembered the ritual was supposed to have a white light.
He didn't dare even think of what might have gone wrong. What he didn't realize was taking blood from an unconscious person does not constitute forcibly taken.
The altered ritual allowed more of the traits of the blood giver to pass into the body of the resurrected person.
The light died down and from the grayish white mist that flowed from the liquid, a figure arose.
The evilest Dark Lord to ever rise from a cauldron didn't realize a mistake had been made as his eyes took a few seconds to adjust to any light. "Robe me." He commanded his servant. "And find me some food. Food? Why did I ask for food?" He wondered but could not say anything because it would be a sign of weakness.
"Yes, My Lord." Wormtail said as he assisted his master into the robes that laid at his feet. "But..." he held up the stump of his arm where he had cut off his hand when it was done.
"Ah yes. I do need to do that, don't I?" Voldemort said before grabbing Wormtail's other arm and pressed a finger to the red tattoo that was there. Peter sunk to his knees as the pain coursed through his body. Riddle then looked over at the unconscious form of Harry Potter still tied to the tombstone. 'He can wait until my faithful followers are here.' Through it all he did not notice the black hair now had a reddish tint.
"Master." Wormtail gasped as he still held out his hand. "You promised... you promised."
"So?" Voldemort sneered. 'But if he dies, who will make you food?' A nagging voice interrupted his thoughts.
'Food again? Well, I have been on a snake venom diet for months. A nice snack would go down very well.' He looked at Pettigrew.
"Fine." He reached into his pocket and withdrew his wand. He stared at the stump for a few seconds. When he had promised Wormtail a new hand, he had envisioned a silver super strong one with protection charms, but now he reconsidered.
'Why should I give him a better hand than I have?' He thought. With a wave of his wand, a wooden hand formed at the end of Wormtail's arm.
"Thank you, My Lord... Thank..." Wormtail's thankfulness ended as he saw what he now had for a hand.
"Now go find me some food Wormtail." The Dark Lord commanded. As Pettigrew turned and started out of the graveyard, he called again. "And find out the latest Quidditch results!"
'Quidditch?' Voldemort asked himself. He didn't have time to ponder the question to himself as the air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were apparating.
All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one, they moved forward... slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them. Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort and kissed the hem of his black robes.
"Master... Master." The Death Eater said.
Several of the Death Eaters were staring at their lord and master strangely, but when Voldemort looked at them, they glanced away or at the ground. Finally, the Darkest of Dark Lords started pacing in front of his Death Eaters.
"You might wonder how this was possible. How I came to be alive and in front of you. It is thanks to our guest of honor." He threw a finger over his shoulder at his father's tombstone.
"Harry Potter." He whispered softly.
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