The Waves of Time and Death

31st of October, 1979 

As he watched his fiancé's Patronus fly away, Hedwyn tightened his grip on the dagger in his right hand. He looked down and saw as the moonlight touched the shiny metal and the small sphere of blue light that travelled through the blade, Dolohov's soul, became more visible. Soulscourge was shinier today. A testament to Death's powerful presence on this All Hallows’ Eve. Harry could feel it in the thrumming of the blade on his hand, as well as in the light from the mighty Moon above, ineffable forces were at play that night.

The very wind around the clearing where they were going to perform the ritual was unusually cooler, and the trees seemed unaffected by it. Their leaves and branches appeared petrified and dull in colour. The air felt heavier. The elements of nature were all anxious with anticipation.

“Today,” the word left his lips in a quasi-whisper, travelling through the clearing.

“...will mark the beginning of our new lives,” he heard Regulus finishing his phrase. A shy smile appeared on his lips as his partner's presence reassured him. He would not go against Voldemort alone. Regulus would be by his side.

The sounds of leaves being crushed under dragon hide boots as Regulus came closer to him soothed him in a way. His fiancé stopped to his left and joined their hands. The warmth of Regulus' hands and body grounded him even more, and the tension he didn't realise was there before left his shoulders. Hedwyn moved the dagger from his right hand to the other, and the two men both grabbed the weapon at the handle.

“It's all going to be fine, Wyn. You worry too much, darling,” Regulus' words were calm and sweet, a necessary reminder to an apprehensive Harry.

“I know, Reggie. But I cannot help but worry. What if something goes wrong and you get hurt? I would not be able to live with myself if something bad happened to you.”

Regulus shook his head and smiled. He brought his left hand to Hedwyn's cheek and softly caressed it with his thumb.

“Again, you worry too much. Everything will be fine, my love. We have the most powerful entity by our side, the very being the Dark Lords fears more than anything else. And, let us not forget, you are still the Master of Death, so Death can't touch me if you tell them not to.”

Harry knew it was true, all of it. His powers were unparalleled in the matters of Necromancy since the day Death came to him and explained their almost limitlessness. Death itself would never touch his lover if Hedwyn intervened. His fears and concerns were illogical, but that was the nature of fear.

He nuzzled against Regulus' hand, feeling the warmth from the soft skin against his cheek, and kissed the palm. For a second, he wished more than anything they could stay like this. If Regulus were to ask, Hedwyn knew he would leave everything behind, all his plans and aspirations, just to please his lover. He would do anything for Regulus. No one, maybe besides his parents and Sirius, had ever loved him as his fiancé did. And for the continuation of that love, he would do anything to appease his partner.

“Thank you, my prince,” he kissed Regulus' hand again before letting it fall from his face. “I could never do this without you. Now, let's wait for that bastard. He will be here soon.”

As soon as the words left his lips a shiver ran through his body. The mere acknowledgement of what was to come was enough to make him uncomfortable. To face Voldemort again was something he would never be willing to do if the benefits did not win over the losses. Damned the day we thought about this plan, he thought grimly.

His eyes went to the ritual circle, still covered by the dome of light from the ritual they had done days ago. He breathed with more ease as the magic was still strong to his senses.

Above, he saw the Waxing Gibbous Moon standing guard over the clearing. He nodded as if giving the celestial body a signal they were both familiar with.

When his gaze met the glistening blade, he grinned. Inexplicably, a confidence that was not there before coursed through him. Perhaps it was the dagger in his hand that radiated a type of magic only associated with Death himself, or maybe it was simply Regulus' presence by his side, he didn't know. He would not let it go away, however. Harry realised quickly he would need all the support he could muster, even if it came from himself, his lover, or an inanimate object.

He wondered if Regulus was truly confident in their plan, or if his fiancé was just trying to not feed his concerns by looking doubtful. Whatever the case was, he was thankful for Regulus' antics today. Harry was sure he would never be able to pull this out by himself, anxiety would've eaten him alive. The desire to bring his lover closer and keep him there was a strong temptation to avoid. Regulus' answer to such action was the only thing that stopped Harry from doing it. He knew his partner would not like for them to be distracted by the time Voldemort arrived.

He shook his head. They could do anything after the ritual was over, so he would wait. After today, the world was theirs. No more dark lords or old headmasters to worry about. Their plan would continue, of course, but nothing would be as hard as dealing with mad old men. Harry swore that, after today, only his wedding would be the thing he would focus on. Nothing else mattered other than ensuring his and Regulus' relationship advanced to the next step.

The wind got stronger and colder. Rustling leaves scattered around the clearing and the tree branches moved once again. Though still dull, the green of the leaves on the trees became closer to their natural state.

A blinding light appeared in the middle of the ritual circle, forcing Hedwyn to look away. His heart started to beat faster, the anticipation was a heavy weight on his shoulders.

Voldemort was here.

The first thing he saw were the dark robes, dyed in an inky black colour. Then the rest of the figure became clear and Hedwyn fought the urge to gag. Voldemort looked just as horrendous as in his previous life. Though not entirely serpentine, the distorted features on the sickly pale face were enough to make Voldemort look monstrous. How someone could do such horrid magic on themselves Harry didn't know.

Voldemort was bound. Ropes of white light were all around the man's lean body as if they were snakes constricting his moves. The resemblance to serpents preventing the so-called Heir of Slytherin from moving his bony limbs could have brought a smirk to Hedwyn's face, if not for the seriousness of the situation.

Before he could process what was happening, Regulus started to move forward, forcing Harry to follow. His grip on the dagger tightened as Voldemort's face became clearer.

“Voldemort,” the name coming from Regulus' mouth shocked Harry. He even looked left and right to make sure no Death Eater would Apparate around them. No sound of Apparition could be heard, and he wondered if the wards of Gwynt Keep were strong enough to prevent unwanted people from getting in. “How do you feel, your Darkness?”

The sarcastic tone in Regulus' voice brought his attention back to the scene in front of him. Regulus with a devious smile on his face and Voldemort looking at him with angry red eyes.

“Regulus Black,” the half-English half-Parseltongue sent a shiver down Hedwyn's body, and he shifted his stance to try to appear less uncomfortable. “The traitor comes back to me once more. I should've known you would try something as ridiculous as this, dear Regulus. Why don't you release your lord from this mockery of a prison and accept your due punishment, Regulus? As the fair Lord that I am, I won't punish the House of Black with death. End this now, boy, before regret becomes all you know.”

Regulus seemed to find the situation quite amusing, and his laughter suggested to Harry that he wasn't the only one who thought Voldemort's strategy of trying to compel Regulus to do his bidding was utterly insane. The man was perhaps too surprised by being kidnapped to think about a proper intimidation tactic.

“I am no longer one of your vassals, Riddle,” the name made Voldemort's eyes widen. Once the man focused his gaze on Regulus' left forearm, the Black Heir laughed again. “You can't punish me with the Mark either. That horrid stain is no longer on my skin.”

Regulus lifted his sleeve, revealing his unmarked arm. That seemed to enrage Voldemort more than being trapped. The man's magic made the dome shake slightly and the ropes of light tightened around him.

“How?” Voldemort's tone was laced with both anger and disbelief.

After witnessing Regulus openly ridiculing their enemy, Harry felt a newfound sense of assurance and decided to actively participate in the revelry.

“How do you think, Tom?” it took a second for the understanding to pass through Voldemort's face, but when he realised Hedwyn's words were not spoken in English his face contorted into an ugly surprised expression. “It was quite easy to take the Dark Mark off of Regulus' beautiful skin. You should've made it harder to take it off if you planned on enslaving your followers forever, Tom.”

“So you are the other Parselmouth, I see. Why do you fight against me, Hedwyn Peverell? Aren't we related if you are also gifted with Slytherin's blood? Don't you believe family should stay together, young man? I imagine you are most lonely without your deceased parents by your side, Hedwyn. I could be a figure in your life. A relative for you to rely on and to help you improve yourself. I could make you great, untouchable.”

“Your words mean nothing to me,” he answered in English, for Regulus' sake. “And do you think I would believe you care about family, Tom Riddle Jr.? The man who killed his father and grandparents is really trying to speak to me about family. The man who sent his only uncle to Azkaban. Don't make me laugh.”

It was clear by Voldemort's expression that the deformed lord was not expecting Harry to know a thing about what he had done in his youth. The widening of his eyes and the clenching of his teeth told everything Hedwyn needed to know: Voldemort would try to manipulate him in every way possible.

The disgust he felt for Voldemort was immense. An old familiar hatred returned to him as he remembered how the man had tried to deceive him when he was eleven, by promising to bring back Harry's parents — the same ones Voldemort himself had murdered.

And for the man to use family to try to manipulate him once again was just incredible to hear. It was at that moment that Hedwyn understood how awful of a human being Voldemort really was. Nothing was sacred for his nemesis other than to keep himself alive.

“Hedwyn,” Regulus' voice brought him back to the present. “Let's finally get rid of him, love.”

Harry gulped but nodded. This was it. They would defeat Voldemort for good, and build a new life for themselves, together.

Regulus was the first one to go through the dome of light, with Harry just slightly behind him. The dagger in their hands glistened and Voldemort's red eyes seemed to finally see the blade for the first time. If the way the man tried to move away from the approaching wizards was because of fear, Hedwyn and Regulus chose to not comment on it.

The stone platform shook again as Voldemort's magic reacted, though the man's face was impassive. Steam came off from the areas where the ropes touched the pale skin, as if the ritual magic was fighting against Voldemort's will to break free.

Careful to not step on any runes or sigils, Hedwyn and Regulus advanced towards Voldemort until they were close enough to touch him.

The atmosphere within the enclosed dome was heavy with an almost suffocating thickness, oppressive under the weight of the ritual magic's attempts to contain Voldemort and dampen his dark powers. Harry felt an unseen force pressing down on his chest, causing him to instinctively place a trembling hand over the centre of his heaving chest in a desperate bid for relief.

By the expression he saw on Regulus' face when he turned to his lover, the other man was in a similar situation, though he looked more composed than Hedwyn. Their eyes met and Regulus gave him a sharp nod, which he answered in the same manner.

In the sky above, the Moon looked almost like a dimmed star as its light seemed stronger than before. Harry wasn't sure if it was due to the light of the dome or if his own mind was playing tricks on him, but the Moon's intense presence comforted him in a way.

Jointly, the two men raised the arms which carried the dagger and raised it above their heads. The moonlight hit the blade and caused it to gleam more than ever before. Regulus cleared his throat before speaking.

“Oh, Death, mark this blade as yours once more. Bless it with your binding strength and your commanding might, to inhibit our foe and subject his followers to us. Bless us, your Great Master and his Noble Hand, as the holders of Tom Marvolo Riddle's soul and power.”

Voldemort's body twisted with Regulus' words and his magic started to cause cracks to appear on the stone underneath him. The light of the dome shone brighter, making the man hiss and close his eyes. A muffled scream left Voldemort's thin lips as the ropes restraining him burned his skin through the thin fabric of his dark robes.

The smell of burning flesh and the groans Voldemort let out instead of screams brought a twisted sense of accomplishment to Hedwyn. He did not realise it at the time, but the fact that Voldemort died so easily in his former life was a great disappointment to him. To see the man who had caused him so much pain die easily had been too dissatisfying. Now, however, a new opportunity for revenge arose and Harry would not let it be wasted.

“I call upon Death, as your master, to bring the soul of Tom Marvolo Riddle the suffering he is due. Oh, companion of mine, punish the one who defied your might by severing his soul and who brought me, your chosen, unimaginable pain. Punish him, Death, and gift my beloved and me the chains the so-called Dark Lord uses to control his followers.”

The handle of the dagger started to heat at the same time a wave of magic came down his arm. He heard Regulus gasp at the feeling but refused to look anywhere but at Voldemort's face. Though the man tried to hide his fear, the look in his eyes was enough to make Harry grin.

“May your soul serve us well,” Hedwyn and Regulus said in unison. “May your body never know death. We curse you with eternal life. Suffering, never ending. Your magic shall be ours to wield and consume. Hollowness, your last and only acquaintance.”

As they lunged forward with the blade aimed at Voldemort's chest, a surge of panicked energy from the dark wizard created a powerful barrier that separated Harry and Regulus from Voldemort. Despite the formidable magical obstacle, Harry and Regulus pressed on with their attack, relentlessly driving the dagger towards Voldemort in a desperate attempt to shatter the protective wall. Cracks on the stone beneath them started to become more visible, though they never touched the runes or sigils. The light of the dome was almost burning to the eyes as the ritualistic magic attempted to thwart Voldemort's attempt to free himself.

“You foolish boys,” Voldemort hissed. “Cease this in this instant. Weak wizards such as you will never be able to defeat Lord Voldemort. I am the heir to Salazar Slytherin himself. I am the last of the greatest lineage in Magical Britain.”

Hedwyn could feel his anger building with each passing moment, fueled by the unforeseen complications of the ritual and the triumphant gleam in Voldemort's eyes. When he lifted his wand and aimed it at the barrier, Hedwyn could sense a surge of magic welling up inside him, as if in response to his feelings.

A harrowing, gut-wrenching scream reverberated through the air as Harry's magic carved a path through the imperfections in Voldemort's mystical shield. In that crucial instant, Hedwyn's mind raced to comprehend the situation, realizing that Voldemort had funnelled an excessive amount of magic into the barrier, inadvertently forging a link between his own magical essence and the energy shield.

He could see in the corner of his eyes that Regulus started to do the same thing. As a screech came from Voldemort, he silently thanked his fiancé for the help. It seemed that, for reasons unknown to him, Regulus magic was more aggressive against Voldemort than his own.

The barrier exploded with a deafening noise reminiscent of shattering glass, causing the ritual magic to tighten the ropes around Voldemort even further. As the ropes seared through the fabric of the man's robes, parts of his robes burnt away, leaving underneath it only charred, blackened skin riddled with deep fissures. Though the sight was disgusting to witness, Harry refused to look away. He found solace in Voldemort's torment, thinking that every moment of pain the dark wizard experienced was well-deserved.

As Voldemort's screams echoed through the clearing, he turned his gaze away from Riddle and locked eyes with Regulus. The silent understanding between the two of them was all they needed as they shared a nod. With unwavering determination, they tightened their grips on the handle of the dagger before simultaneously driving it deep into Voldemort's form, breaking skin and bones as the blade disappeared inside the dark wizard's chest.

The sounds Voldemort let out were almost deafening. Screams mingled with pleas and curses come from the man in a barrage of tumultuous-like words and noises.

The skin surrounding the dagger's point began to wither and turn a sickly shade of black, while a web of cracks resembling decaying flesh emerged and snaked from the centre of Voldemort's chest to the entirety of his torso.

The noxious stench alone nearly caused Hedwyn to heave and involuntarily loosen his grip on the handle. Yet, Regulus, sensing his distress, nudged his shoulder and attempted to draw his attention away from the ghastly spectacle unfolding before them.

As Voldemort's body deteriorated, his anguished cries reverberated through the clearing, dominating every other sound. The blowing wind and the rustling of leaves were mere whispers against Voldemort's screams. Faced with the oppressive cacophony of Riddle's cries, the two men abandoned any hope of exchanging words, realizing that it would be futile against such overwhelming noises.

The handle grew unbearably hot, slightly burning the palms of the two men's hands and compelling them to release their grip. They swiftly stepped back, a mixture of anticipation and caution took over Hedwyn's eyes as he watched the handle intently. The air around them seemed to hum with energy, signalling the ritual's progression.

Without hesitation, Regulus reached out, his hand finding Harry's with practised ease. Their fingers intertwined naturally, providing a shared sense of comfort and solidarity amidst the uncertainty. Standing side by side, their hands clasped tightly together, they waited for the ritual to reach its conclusion, hearts beating in synchrony.

When Voldemort finally lost his voice, being left with only whispers of screams, Harry breathed out. He chuckled when he heard Regulus doing the same thing and gave his partner's hand a light squeeze.

He had not noticed before the tears rolling down Riddle's face, but the sight brought a smirk to his face. Seeing his biggest enemy suffering for all he had done, as well as what he would do, was a private spectacle for Harry. 

“Getting the pieces out of the Horcruxes will be a walk on the part in comparison to this,” Regulus' words made him laugh and shake his head.

“I can't say you're wrong, even though I want to do nothing else right now but go to sleep.”

A tiny blue light appeared on Voldemort's chest, drawing their attention back to the ritual. The light slowly travelled towards the dagger, disappearing as it touched the blade. Immediately after the light was gone, the ropes of white light faded away and Riddle's body started to thrash around. It hit the floor hard and the sounds of bones breaking made Harry wince.

Voldemort began to mutter indistinctly, his voice barely audible due to the strain on his throat from all the screaming. Meanwhile, his body contorted on the floor, seemingly independent of his will. The bizarre spectacle came to an abrupt halt when Regulus unleashed a stunning spell on the man, eliciting a quiet chuckle from Harry.

“I'm not gonna lie, I fully expect something going terribly wrong,” Regulus rolled his eyes at him.

“You have no faith in us,” said Regulus. “Now get the Horcruxes while I get Riddle's blood. And be quick because I do want to sleep before all the madness of tomorrow.”

He watched with a grin as Regulus pursed his lips while walking closer to Voldemort's body. Yeah, tomorrow will be a mad day, he thought while laughing to himself and ignoring Regulus' raised eyebrow. But it will also be worth it.