The Only One Voldemort Is Afraid Of

Harry took no notice of Isabell behind him, he thought she was there to tell him not to follow his godfather’s killer, the one who killed his father’s best friend. He and Isabell raced after Bellatrix, whose triumphant shrieks continued ahead of them as she continued taunting them. 

‘I killed my cousin, I killed Sirius!’ she taunted in a horrible sing-song voice. ‘Come out, come out, little Harry! What did you come after me for, then? I thought you were here to avenge my dear cousin!' 

'I am!’ shouted Harry, and a score of ghostly Harry's seemed to chorus I am! I am! I am! all around the room. 

'Aaaaaah ... did you love him, little baby Potter?' 

Hatred rose in Isabell’s body such as she had never known before, as it seemed to be the same for Harry, for he flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed, 'Crucio!' 

Bellatrix screamed. The spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Olivia had—she was already back on her feet, breathless, no longer laughing. Her counterspell hit the head of the wizard on the fountain they had seen while entering, which was blown off and landed twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor. 

'Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?’ she yelled. She had abandoned her baby voice now. 'You need to mean them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain, to enjoy it, righteous anger won't hurt me for long. I'll show you how it is done, shall I? I'll give you a lesson-'

Harry, Isabell behind him, was edging around the fountain on the other side. 

'Crucio!’ screamed Bellatrix. 

Isabell and Harry were forced to duck down again as the centaur's arm on the fountain, holding its bow, spun off and landed with a crash on the floor a short distance from the golden wizard's head. 

'Potter, you and your friend, Bluesky, I assume, cannot win against me!  she said, her voice echoing around the room so that all they could hear was the word “me”. 

‘I was and am the Dark Lord's most loyal servant. I learned the Dark Arts from him, and I know spells of such power that you, pathetic little boy, can never hope to compete-' 

'Stupefy!’ yelled Isabell. 

She had edged right around to where the goblin stood beaming up at the now headless wizard and took aim at Bellatrix’s back as she peered around the fountain. She reacted so fast Isabell barely had time to duck. 

'Protego!' 

The jet of red light, her own Stunning Spell, bounced back at her. Isabell scrambled back behind the fountain and one of the goblin's ears went flying across the room. 

'Potter, I'm going to give you one chance!’ shouted Bellatrix. 'Give me the prophecy, by rolling it over towards me now, and I may spare you, and your pathetic friend’s life!'

Bellatrix walked away from the raging Harry, though her uneven yellow teeth were bared into a terrible grin. Isabell looked behind her in shock. Black flowing silks started materialising behind her, a chalk-white slender body forming from inside the circle of black silks. A skull-like head started forming, red eyes with black slitted pupils gleaming darkly through the translucent silks. Long, bony finger formed, one hand holding a wand that almost resembled a bone. The body was fully formed, the silks going around the body until he appeared, as alive as he was fourteen years ago. 

‘Kill her, Harry…’ he whispered. ‘She killed Sirius… you know the curse… Kill her…’

But now Harry realised the voice. He turned around, and his eyes locked on his parents’ killer’s red gleaming eyes. He yelled in surprise as Voldemort looked upon him, his serpent-like head and sinewy body just like they were.

‘Where’s the prophecy…’ Voldemort spoke, his long fingers trailing down his wand as he looked at Bellatrix.

‘Last I saw it, my Lord, it was in the hands of William Clearwater!’ Bellatrix responded, joyful, though it seemed Voldemort knew she was lying. 

Voldemort realised there was someone else- someone whom he didn’t quite expect to be with him, Bellatrix and Harry. His red eyes looked at Isabell, then at Bellatrix. 

‘Kill the intruder,’ his cold voice echoed. 

Harry looked at Isabell and mouthed: ‘Run.’

But Isabell stayed rooted on the spot, her widened eyes never leaving Voldemort. 

‘There will be no killing, Tom,’ a calm voice echoed.

Behind Bellatrix was an old man, eyes blazing as he spoke. Dumbledore looked at Voldemort. 

‘Long time no see, Dumbledore,’ Voldemort sneered, cold hatred on his snake-like face. ‘I believe I am now known as Lord Voldemort…’

‘Yet you are always known as Tom Riddle to me,’ Dumbledore replied. 

Voldemort’s expression changed, as though annoyed by what Dumbledore had told him, as though he hated his actual name.  

‘All your followers are tied up in the Death Chamber, ready to be picked up by the Ministry employees that will soon come as Fudge will know if someone has entered his place,’ Dumbledore continued. 

‘Even William?’ 

‘Even the Death Eater who held the weapon you desired,’ Dumbledore responded. ‘Why would you take away a young lady’s father, and make him evil… Did you use the arrow-’

‘I DO NOT SPEAK OF THAT!’ Voldemort hissed.

Isabell and Harry looked at each other. They remembered Sirius telling them about it-

‘Please don’t think of him, Harry, the pain will only get worse,’ Isabell whispered, her own voice cracking. 

Voldemort raised his wand and another jet of green light streaked at Dumbledore, who turned and was gone in a whirling of his cloak. Next second, he had reappeared behind Voldemort and waved his wand towards the remnants of the fountain. The other statues sprang to life. The statue of the witch of the fountain ran at Bellatrix, who screamed and sent spells streaming uselessly off its chest, before it dived at her, pinning her to the floor. Meanwhile, the goblin and the house-elf scuttled towards the fireplaces set along the wall and the one-armed centaur galloped at Voldemort, who vanished and reappeared beside the pool. The headless statue thrust Harry and Isabell backwards, away from the fight, as Dumbledore advanced on Voldemort and the golden centaur centred around them both.

‘It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom,' said Dumbledore calmly. 'The Aurors are on their way, as I told you.’

‘By which time I shall be gone, and you will be dead!’ spat Voldemort. 

He sent another killing curse at Dumbledore but missed, instead hitting the security guard's desk, which burst into flame. Dumbledore flicked his own wand, the force of the spell that emanated from it was such that Harry and Isabell, though shielded by their golden guard, felt their hair blow as it passed and this time Voldemort was forced to conjure a shining silver shield out of thin air to deflect it. The spell, whatever it was, caused no visible damage to the shield, though a deep, gong-like note reverberated from it.

'You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?’ called Voldemort, his scarlet eyes narrowed over the top of the shield. 'Above such brutality, are you?' 

'We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom,' Dumbledore said calmly, continuing to walk towards Voldemort as though he had not a fear in the world, as though nothing had happened to interrupt his stroll up the hall. 'Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit-' 

'There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!’ snarled Voldemort. 'You are quite wrong,' said Dumbledore, still closing in upon Voldemort and speaking as lightly as though they were discussing the matter over drinks. 

Isabell felt scared to see him walking along, undefended, shieldless. She wanted to cry out a warning, but the headless guard kept shunting them backwards towards the wall, blocking her every attempt to get out from behind it. She suddenly had an idea. She made a quiet neighing sound, calling the only creature she knew could help.

'Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness-' 

Another jet of green light flew from behind the silver shield. This time it was the one-armed centaur, galloping in front of Dumbledore, that took the blast and shattered into a hundred pieces, but before the fragments had even hit the floor, Dumbledore had drawn back his wand and waved it as though brandishing a whip.  

A long thin flame flew from the tip; it wrapped itself around Voldemort, shield and all. For a moment, it seemed Dumbledore had won, but then the fiery rope became a serpent, which relinquished its hold on Voldemort at once and turned, hissing furiously, to face Dumbledore. Voldemort vanished as the snake reared from the floor, ready to strike- 

There was a burst of flame in midair above Dumbledore just as Voldemort reappeared, standing on the plinth in the middle of the pool where so recently the five statues had stood. 

'Look out!’ Harry yelled.

 But even as he shouted, another jet of green light flew at Dumbledore from Voldemort's wand and the snake struck— 

Sublimus swooped down in front of Dumbledore, opened her wings as wide as she could, and blew the killing curse, which had turned into dust. Voldemort’s red eyes widened, his slit pupils shrinking. It was who Isabell wanted to call. She assumed it was alicorn magic. At the same moment, Dumbledore brandished his wand in one long, fluid movement. The snake, which had been an instant from sinking its fangs into him, flew high into the air and vanished in a wisp of dark smoke, and the water in the pool rose up and covered Voldemort like a cocoon of molten glass. For a few seconds Voldemort was visible only as a dark, rippling, faceless figure, shimmering and indistinct upon the base supporting the remaining statue, clearly struggling to throw off the suffocating mass. Then he was gone and the water fell with a crash back into its pool, slopping wildly over the sides, drenching the polished floor. 

'MASTER!’ screamed Bellatrix. 

Sure it was over, sure Voldemort had decided to flee, Isabell and Harry made to run out from behind their statue guard, but Dumbledore bellowed: 'Stay where you are, both of you!' 

For the first time, Dumbledore sounded frightened. Isabell could not see why, the hall was quite empty but for her, Harry, Dumbledore, the sobbing Bellatrix still trapped under the witch statue, and Sublimus, her wings flapping away the dust on the floor—

Harry screamed in pain like never before, and all Isabell could hear was wind blowing fiercely. Harry’s yelling stopped, and so did the wind in Isabell’s ears, and was replaced by a quiet voice.

‘Kill me now, Dumbledore...' 

Isabell tried to walk towards Harry, to help him- The voice talked again, Harry’s mouth moving as though it was a puppet.

'If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy...'

Harry’s mouth closed and he was now lying face down on the floor, his glasses gone, his eyes closed, and he was shivering. Voldemort reappeared. Dumbledore used a protection spell on Harry’s unconscious figure, then gestured to Isabell to stand behind him and in front of Harry.

‘Dumbledore, you may have won the battle before, but you have lost the war. I will kill Harry Potter now, in front of your eyes, then I will proceed onto this girl (he waved his pale hand towards Isabell) and her friends, then that alicorn, which stopped me from-’

‘MERLIN’S BEARD!’ 

Voices echoed around the hall and Isabell sharply turned around and the ministry employees, others, and the minister. Voldemort stopped dead and vanished into thin air.

‘He’s back!’ Fudge said, looking more shocked than Isabell had ever seen him. ‘What-’

But Dumbledore ignored him as Harry’s eyes fluttered open. Isabell handed him his glasses. 

‘Are you all right, Harry?' Dumbledore asked, his crooked nose inches from Harry’s.

'Yes,' said Harry, shaking so violently he could not hold his head up properly. 'Yeah, I'm- where's Voldemort, where- who are all these- what's-'

The Atrium was full of people; the floor was reflecting the emerald green flames that had burst into fire in all the fireplaces along one wall; and streams of witches and wizards were emerging from them.

'He was there!’ shouted a scarlet-robed man with a man bun, who was pointing at a pile of golden rubble on the other side of the hall, where Bellatrix had lain trapped only moments before. 'I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!' 'I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!’ gibbered Fudge, who was wearing pyjamas under his pinstriped cloak and was gasping as though he had just run miles. 'Merlin's beard-here-here! In the Ministry of Magic! Great heavens- it doesn't-doesn’t seem possible, my word- how can this be-?' 

'If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius,' said Dumbledore, apparently satisfied that Harry was all right, and walking forwards so that the newcomers realised he was there for the first time (a few of them raised their wands, others simply looked amazed, the statues of the elf and goblin applauded and Fudge jumped so much that his slipper-covered feet left the floor). 'You will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparition Jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them, and eight children that I would like some of your Aurors to check if they are ok.' 

'Dumbledore!’ gasped Fudge, beside himself with amazement. 'You, here- I-I-' 

He looked wildly around at the Aurors he had brought with him and it could not have been clearer that he wanted to tell them to seize Dumbledore. 

'Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men, and win, again!’ said Dumbledore in a thunderous voice. 'But a few minutes ago you saw proof, with your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for an entire year. Lord Voldemort has returned, you have been chasing the wrong man for twelve months, and it is time you listened to sense!' 'I-don't-well- but-' blustered Fudge, looking around as though hoping somebody was going to tell him what to do. When nobody did, he said, 'Very well. Dawlish! Williamson! Scrimgeour! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and… you heard what. Dumbledore, you—you will need to tell me exactly- oh my, the Fountain of Magical Brethren- what happened?’ he whimpered, staring around at the floor, where the remains of the statues of the witch, wizard and centaur now lay scattered. 

'We can discuss that after I have sent Harry, and his uninjured friends back to Hogwarts,' said Dumbledore. 

'Harry… Harry Potter?' 

Fudge wheeled around and stared at Harry, who was still standing against the wall beside the fallen statue that had guarded him during Dumbledore and Voldemort's duel. 

'H-here?’ said Fudge, goggling at Harry. 'Why—what's all this about?' 

'I shall explain everything,' repeated Dumbledore. ‘But when Harry and his uninjured friends are back at school.' 

He walked away from the pool to the place where the golden wizard's head lay on the floor. He pointed his wand at it.

‘Portus,’ Dumbledore muttered.

The head glowed blue and trembled noisily against the wooden floor for a few seconds, then became still once more.

'Now see here, Dumbledore!’ said Fudge, as Dumbledore picked up the head and walked back to Harry and Isabell carrying it. 

'You haven't got authorization for that Portkey! You can't do things like that right in front of the Minister for Magic, you-you-'

His voice faltered as Dumbledore surveyed him magisterially over his half-moon spectacles. 

'You will give the order to remove Dolores Umbridge from Hogwarts,' said Dumbledore. 'You will tell your Aurors to stop searching for my Care of Magical Creatures teacher so that he can return to work. I will give you… (Dumbledore pulled a watch with twelve hands from his pocket and surveyed it)... half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what has happened here. After that, I shall need to return to my school. If you need more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters addressed to the Headmaster will find me.' 

Fudge goggled worse than ever, his mouth was open and his round face grew pinker under his rumpled grey hair. 

'I—you—' 

Dumbledore turned his back on him. 

'Take this Portkey, Harry, Isabell.' 

He held out the golden head of the statue and Isabell and Harry each placed one hand on it, not caring where it would send them, they were too shocked to even argue. 

'I shall see you in half an hour,’ whispered Dumbledore quietly. 'One... two... three...' 

Isabell felt the familiar sensation of a hook being jerked behind her shirt. The polished wooden floor was gone from beneath her feet, the Atrium, Fudge and Dumbledore had all disappeared and she was flying forwards in a whirlwind of colour and sound. Her feet touched the blue rug of Professor Flitwick’s office. Professor Flitwick was sitting on his desk, reading the Daily Prophet as he murmured what was inked on the large paper. It only took him a few seconds to realise that there were people in his office.

‘Oh my, how did you both end up here?’ he squeaked as he jumped from his chair (which had several books layered upon each other). 

‘Portkey… went to the ministry… teleported here…’ Isabell said through heavy breathing as she collapsed on a chair. 

The door of Flitwick’s office blasted open and Professor Mcgonagall strode in, face pale and eyes wide. 

‘Albus has informed me about what happened at the Ministry,’ she spoke, her voice almost a whisper. 

There was a little pop! next to Harry. Olivia, Albert, Amelia, Hermione, Luna, Ron and Neville appeared as they all held a rusty kettle - which was a Portkey. 

Amelia’s legs were jellied. 

Albert had a gash on his cheek and scars on his arms. 

Olivia’s head was throbbing with heat as though about to explode. 

Hermione was still unconscious, so was Luna as their hands were magically stuck to the Portkey.

Ron had snapped back to reality, though kept shuddering.

Neville still had dry blood under his broken nose. 

Ginny’s leg was still twisted badly. 

‘This is far worse than I expected!’ Professor Mcgonagall gasped. ‘Filius, fetch Madam Pomfrey immediately!’ 

‘Yes, Minerva!’ the little professor peeped as he reached for the handle and opened the door.  

Professor Mcgonagall conjured chairs with her wand without wasting another second and helped Amelia and Ginny sit on two of them. The door of Professor Flitwick’s office opened, and Madam Pomfrey came in, with a white cloth on her grey-streaked hair and a set of magenta robes with a long white apron. 

‘I will attend to them here, if you don’t mind, Professor Flitwick,’ the matron of Hogwarts said, her face pale. 

‘Not at all, Poppy,’ Professor Flitwick responded. 

Madam Pomfrey was already attending to her patients. She removed the dry blood under Neville’s nose with a wet cloth and used a spell to mend his nose. 

‘Epiksey,’ she muttered.

Neville’s nose cracked, and it became like it was before. 

She used the same spell to mend Ginny’s twisted leg, though added another unclear incantation. 

‘You’ll have to stay seated for a day or two before you can get that leg moving properly again,’ Madam Pomfrey instructed as she moved on to her next patient. 

She conjured a glass cup and a blue, gooey drink entered the cup. 

‘Drink this,’ she said as she handed the drink to Olivia. ‘It’ll make you feel better, dear.’

Olivia gulped and drank, her face expression changing to disgusted after she swallowed the blue drink. Madam Pomfrey put a plaster on Albert’s cheek after dabbing purple liquid on the gash to prevent it from getting worse. She told Amelia that her legs will be fine again, but the hex it had been put on was so powerful and that was the reason she wasn’t able to move after her legs unknotted. 

‘Renovate.’

Hermione’s eyes fluttered open, her breaths appearing as quick gasps.

‘It’s fine, Hermione, we’re back at Hogwarts,’ Harry assured as he slowly patted Hermione’s shoulder.

Her breathing eased. Madam Pomfrey used the same spell on Luna, whose eyes flared open as well. The matron covered Hermione, Luna and Ron with thin sheets and put pads on their foreheads, saying that the pads will help their minds and blood cool down a little. 

‘Thank you, Poppy,’ Professor Mcgonagall sighed in relief.

‘Don’t make them do activities such as running, jumping, you know,’ Poppy Pomfrey suggested as she left Flitwick’s office. 

Silence entered through the door as nobody spoke, each with their own thoughts and realm of imagination.