The Fall of The House of Black PT.2
Dumbledore was irked. Not just irked, he was livid. The moment he had stepped deeper into the fog and from the view of Loki and Tony, he had attempted to deal with them by way of a well-placed Obliviate. It would be so much easier to just burn away their minds, and leave them for dead when he set fire to this place after finding Harry. Then it would just be a matter of layering some compulsion spells on the child. And strengthen the binds placed on the boys’ magic.
However, the moment he turned around to cast, the path he had just come from had vanished. Instead of the foyer, Dumbledore found himself looking down a hallway lined with green glowing torches. It didn’t feel as if he had been magically transported, but rather the world around him has shifted without his notice. The lack of control left him feeling nauseated, and somehow even more angry.
“Curse this family and their proclivities for the Dark Arts,” he muttered, wishing now more than ever he had eradicated the family line when he had the chance.
Hell, if it wasn’t for Harry, Sirius would have been a soulless husk, instead of the free man that was a thorn in his side as he was now. Still, there was no lamenting the cards he had been dealt. The best thing he could do was play the hand till the end. However, he was not above a bit of manipulation to make sure he came out on top.
It all came back to Harry. Harry and that damn prophecy all those years ago. He wished he had been able to decipher the esoteric words that had come from that woman’s mouth. He had assumed it was flowery language that seemed to be par for the course with prophecy. Hearts of Iron and Souls of Ice felt less like descriptors of people and more like vague concepts. Yet, the truth was there. Tony Stark, a Muggle man who flew in a suit of iron. Loki, a God that was from a heritage of Ice Giants if the legends were to be believed.
‘Born of a heart of iron and a soul of ice as the seventh month dies. He shall bear the power infinite and restore the balance
The line from the prophecy played in his mind as he walked through the echoing halls. There were several children born that night, but none had shaken the fabric of magic as Harry had. Dumbledore had been there for the child’s birth, as a friend and mentor to the Potters’. He felt his deep connection to the magic around him quake the moment Harry came crying out into the world. It was then, as the green-eyed boy wailed in the arms of his mother, that Dumbledore knew he was the child of prophecy. A child whose prophecy had the potential to bring his crafted plans down around his ears.
He couldn’t let him just fulfill the most troubling part of that prophecy come to pass. Instead, he would just manipulate what he could and point the boy as a weapon towards his biggest mistake.
His mind was starting to think of all his past sins and deeds that had led him here. The many nights filled with regret at betraying his true love. Of the lives he had spent in his pursuit of power to protect the greater good. Of the blood that was staining his hands. All of these were rushing to the surface of his mind, like a tap left running. It was unnatural and much unlike him. To the point that, with wide eyes of realization, Albus recognized that it wasn’t his own doing.
Calling upon his mental shield, he quickly shut off the flow of memories that were being pulled from his mind. The walls of his barriers were quickly erected, but the damage was already done. He could hear voices and laughter coming from the hall he walked down. Once more, he could feel the warm air blowing through his beard. Carried on the breeze was a scent he thought he’d never recall. One of the memories he thought he had buried away. One of home.
He glanced at the arrow, seeing that the glowing light was still directing him down the hallway. Closer to the sounds of laughter that were slowly starting to turn cruel and spiteful. He knew those laughs, knew the names associated with them. As well as the soft whimpering he could just barely make out. As he followed the arrow, the ground under his feet went from cold stone to soft dirt. The walls slowly drifted away to a small village with a forest off in the distance. The air was warm with the smells of freshly tilled dirt, a scent that he often recalled with disdain. The scent of poverty. Of a lack of greatness.
The scent of his childhood.
Albus followed the familiar path, the sun feeling far too real to be a mere conjuration by the manor itself. No, this was something else entirely. It was as if he had been plunged into the depths of his pensive, but there was none of the floaty disconnect between the memory and himself. He bent low, dragging his fingers through the dirt, and flinched at how real the tactile sensation truly was. Looking at his hand, he could see the grains trapped under his fingernail.
“What matter of magic is this,” he said exasperated, only to be drawn away from his thoughts by a shrill cry. One that he felt in his bones.
Rushing along the familiar path, Dumbledore came upon what he feared would be for him at the end of the path. His sister, Ariana, and the Muggle boys that had her surrounded. It wasn’t the fact that they were hitting her or pelting her with stones that made Albus feel sick. Nor was it the cold and cruel laughter as they taunted her for being a demon spawn. No, it was the fact that, off in the distance, he could spy their family home. And he knew that, just on the second floor, a younger Albus was watching this all take place, with nary an emotion on his face.
“He-help me, Albus,” the words of Ariana reach his ears, drawing his mind from his recollection of this memory to the attack still going on before him.
The hand of his sister, so small and fragile, reached out to him. The real him. The one standing on the path. He knows not how this phantom of memory can see him, but for a moment it doesn’t matter. He runs forth, his boots kicking up dirt as he tries to undo the failures of his past. Before he watched as Ariana was beaten, not caring for her life. He was a child, a jealous child who wanted to be the only special one in his family. Abe wasn’t nearly as skilled as he was, but Ariana had shown magical skill earlier than he did. Oh, how his family preened over her. He couldn’t stand it and had seen her being attacked by those boys as justified retribution.
That had been then, now, all he wanted to do was save his sister.
He ran hard, his legs moving faster than they ever had in his life. He felt the crunch of the dirt, and could feel bits of it kick up under his robes. However, she was always just out of reach. So far away from him. Her cries filled his ears as he ran on a dirt path that didn’t let him advance. All he could do was run to nowhere and watch. Watch as the boys laid into her mercilessly, the words laced with religious epitaphs that had no meaning for Albus.
“Leave her alone,” he cried out, his voice booming across the path, his magic lashing out in an attempt to save Ariana.
The boys all stopped, the five of them standing stock still at Albus’ words. For a moment, for one blissful moment, the Headmaster thought he had managed to change what happened. It was a full-hardy thought, but it was there all the same. Instead, as the boys whose faces he couldn’t see before turned towards him, he was filled with a sick horror.
Him.
Every.
Last.
One.
They were all him. All Albus Dumbledore.
Their bodies morphed with their faces, becoming grinning facsimiles of himself, hands dripping with blood. Their eyes were empty, almost reflective black orbs. They looked at Albus, grinning fiendishly before they turned back to Ariana. Wands replaced hands and feet, and the copies of Dumbledore began to cast curse after curse onto the defenseless body of Ariana.
“No. Stop this,” he shouted, trying to force his magic to will him into movement. Instead, the ground under his feet began to shift, becoming like quicksand.
Albus was helplessly pulled under the ground, slowly as he was forced to watch himself hurt Ariana. Every spell that was cast he could feel his wand heat up in his grip, the backlash of such magic practically vibrating his bones. His eyes were filled with hot tears as he raged, shouting to the heavens that he would make this house burn. That he would eradicate the name Black from history. All the while, his copies continued to attack his sister mercilessly. Until they all pointed their wands at her beaten body. In one voice they said,
“Avada Kedevra”
The green light was the last thing Albus saw before he was pulled underground into darkness.
Albus felt himself falling for a few moments, his body tumbling in the darkened space. There was no true sense of direction and he was still shocked from what he had been forced to witness. He knew how he felt when it came to his sister, but it was another thing to see that personified and put on display. He felt unbridled fury at being played as he was. Albus Dumbledore was not going to stand for it. Not if he had his way.
Dumbledore came to a sudden stop, his body landing with a thud. The foresight to cast a cushioning charm saved him from any serious damage. As he stood, wand still at the ready, the darkness began to take shape around him once more. Going off of the scene from before, he knew that the house was pulling on his own memories, and went through the ones that could cause him the most emotional damage. When he saw the fading wallpaper and the stench of mildew, he knew where he was.
Wool Orphanage.
As the words blossomed in his mind, the walls of the orphanage took shape fully. He found himself standing at the end of a familiar hallway, the doors all shut, save one. Just like before he could feel the swirling magic that was coming from that room. Thick, powerful, and rife with potential. It was the same thing that had drawn him closer to Grindelwald. That made him so interested in Harry. That feeling of magic all but leaking off of them. Magic and power. The power that he so desperately craved.
Following the echoes of his memory of this moment, Albus stalked along the hallway, clutching his wand tightly in hand. Even though he knew not how the house would twist this memory, he had done the same when he had first gone to meet the young Tom Riddle. He recalled the stories the matrons had told. One of a troubled young man who seemed to make dangerous things happen around him. Of how he would keep the other boys away with just a glare and his constant hissing. The way he would seemingly charm others into giving him their food when he had been denied full rations or for revenge whenever he was wronged.
He wanted nothing more than to mold that power towards his own goals, a second chance at what he tried with Grindelwald. Only for it to turn out much the same.
The house seemed to agree with his thoughts, as when he entered the room he was graced with not just the younger Tom Riddle, but Gellert as well. Both of them were on separate bunks, but their eyes were both watching him. There was this odd stillness to them as if they weren’t quite alive. All things considered, they more than likely weren’t.
“What is the meaning of this,” Albus questioned as he finally found his voice, “Why are you tormenting me like this,”
It was Tom who answered, the young boy turning to face Albus with unnatural movement and grace,
“It is not us who are tormenting you, but yourself. Your mind is rife with such regrets. Such envious wants. Such pain. We are doing nothing more than reflecting that to you,”
“I have no time for these petulant games. You will tell me where Harry is and then I will eradicate every ounce of darkness that resides in this retched place and makes up your form,” the tip of Albus’ wand was white hot as he all but jabbed it against the neck of the faux Tom Riddle
“My sweet phoenix,” the term of endearment flowed from Gellert’s lips just how it used to all those years ago, “No matter what you try, you will not undo what we have planned. These games as you call them are meant to distract you. Not that you could stop what is coming,” the former Dark Lord spoke
“What do you all have planned,”
“To join the Dark Lord and continue on the path you put us on,” Tom responded, pushing away the wand as if it were nothing, “After all, we only became what we were because of you,” Gellert shifted to face Albus alongside Tom,
“You are just as dark as us. You just hide your deeds under the veil of light,”
“I did everything in the name of the greater good,” the Headmaster responded, “I do not do so for my own sake,”
“Really? Then was it the Greater Good that gave rise to your beliefs as a young man,” Gellert stood, pacing around the room, “You and I found each kinship with each other not for the greater good, oh no. You wanted power, plain and simple. You saw what I could do, how I could manipulate and turn those who would otherwise flee to my whims. What was it you said to me,” Gellert asked almost wistfully
“That we could make a better world for all wixen,” Albus finished, “But not the way you wanted. You became so poisoned, wanted to destroy it all,”
“Poisoned by you and your ambitions. It was never my goal to kill the Muggles. No, that Albus, was all you. You saw how destructive they were. Wanting them to be controlled or eliminated,” Gellert stood before Dumbledore, their eyes level
“I was a younger man then, but I never would have gone that-,” Albus began
“No, because you had me,” Gellert fixed Albus with a sinister smile, “You had me. You had someone willing to go just that far beyond to make a better world for our kind. We stopped searching for the Hallows, all because you saw more potential in me than anything. You wanted a weapon you could point at the world and do your bidding,”
“That isn’t true. You were never a weapon to me, but you became lost. I tried to turn you back, to stop it before it went too far,”
“Yes. You lost control of your weapon and just wanted to put it back in its box. To the point, you dragged the lives of others into our conflict. I may have been the dark lord to some, but you were always the one who gave life to my ambitions,”
Albus wanted to say something. To claw forth some platitude or words that would prove his point. He refused to believe that he played a part in who Gellert had become, but the words of the man were true. His truth reflected at him.
“And then, you turned to me,” Tom pulled Albus out of his thoughts, the young man looking as pale as the first day he had met him, “Promised me a new world full of magic. Only for you to leave me here,” Riddle gestured to the decaying room they all sat in
“You were dangerous Tom. So much unchecked power, you couldn’t be trusted,”
“Yet you went out your way to groom me all the same within the walls of Hogwarts. Tried to stamp out my power, make it more manageable for you to control,”
“I will not be talked down to by a child who would become a murderer,” Albus growled
“What choice did you give me, Albus? You shunned me away when I wouldn’t fall in line with your overly saccharine views of the world. I was thirteen when you tossed me away. You stopped caring after that. When you saw that I wasn’t going to be controlled by you. You promised me everything and left me with nothing,” the words were cold and bitter coming from such a young boy’s mouth.
“What you became has nothing to do with me. Either one of you. You made your choices, regardless of what my influence may have been. Now, let me out of this hold you have on my mind so I may find Harry and put an end to this madness,”
“Yes, the great Harry Potter,” Tom Riddle spoke the name with disdain, “Another soul to join us, all because of your greater good,”
“Silence,” Albus whispered in anger, “You know not what you speak,”
“Do we not,” Gellert said, “We are, after all, just your thoughts. Your own emotions and past. We cannot lie to you because you cannot lie to yourself,”
“After all, you were the one who made up a prophecy to hide the truth. Being unable to bear that someone would have a destiny greater than yours. Or that Harry would do what you couldn’t, and make a better world,”
“Born of a heart of iron and a soul of ice, born as the seventh month dies. He shall bear the power infinite and restore the balance,” Gellert practically sang, “But that’s not the part that troubles you, is it,”
“Silence,” Albus growled in anger, his wand sparking venomously with red light
“No,” Tom stood, standing beside Gellert, “It is the part about my redemption. ‘He shall forge a bond with the dark lord, one made of soul and blood. True balance cannot thrive if one survives and the other does not,”
The two figures began to morph once more, Tom becoming the spitting image of Voldemort, while Gellert melted away into that of Harry Potter,
“The false god shall meet his end by their hand. For lasting balance between all will only be achieved at his downfall,” the two spoke in tandem, "They will restore the broken balance and usher in a new age,"
“I said silence,” Albus roared, bright red flames erupting from his wands, engulfing the two figures.
They did not scream as the magical flames ate away at their forms. No, they laughed. They laughed with melting faces as the world around them was consumed by fire. The sound of their voices echoed over the crackling flames.
“So arrogant, to think himself a false god,” the melted face of Harry mocked before the walls of the orphanage turned to ash.
Albus found himself once more in the halls of Grimmauld Manor, his hands shaking. He felt as if ages had passed since he was pulled into those visions. He could still feel the cold eyes of Ariana upon him as she was killed. Killed by his hand.
“No, I will not let you win,” Albus muttered, “I will not allow you or your dark magic to blight my mind further and twist the truth,”
Determination sparked within Albus as he drew himself to his full height. With a barely muttered incantation, the man summoned his own Patronus, a phoenix, and found peace within its warmth and light. He could feel the darkness of the house pushed away by it and it came as a strong comfort. It wasn’t much by way of a true remedy for the darkness of the house, but it would serve him well enough in his search for Harry. He needed to find him first and reapply some of his charms and spells to make sure the boy would fall in line.
Regardless of what that prophecy said, Albus was determined to make sure Harry was the undoing of Voldemort. No matter what it may cost the young man. Or even the world as a whole. Darkness could never be redeemed. Only destroyed.
The bite of dark magic was an itch at the base of Loki’s skull as he stalked up the stairs, his eyes looking for any errant bit of movement.
The depths of dark magic that had been poured into this manor were truly frightening. Loki was aware of the steps needed to seed this level of dark magic corruption and it painted a very vivid picture of what the Black family truly was like. The sacrifices they made were practically carved into the foundations, trapped souls of victims who would never truly know rest. It was magic that was fueled by death and suffering and it disgusted Loki to his very core. While magic had no truly lean towards good nor evil, the methods by which the Black family used and acquired their power were firmly in the annals of evil.
“Such a shame though. All that knowledge they no doubt built would have been useful to this world,” he muttered into the darkness as he peered at a mirror that glinted on the wall.
“Oh, I think you know that this world is a wash,”
Loki stiffened, the hair along his neck rising as he heard his voice reflected at him, just distorted, almost crystalline in its tone. Looking at the mirror in full he watched as his reflection morphed against his will, a thin smile crawling across his lips,
“You didn’t truly think you’d make it through here unscathed, did you,” his literal mirror image mocked
“All this dark magic at your fingertips and the best you can muster is a simple trick with a talking mirror. I expected more,” with a flick of his hand, a burst of energy shattered the mirror into dust, the fine powder pilling on the ground, “Sheer amateur hour,” he muttered as he continued to walk
The dust on the floor that had once been a mirror stirred to life, following in the wake of Loki as he walked along the hallway, taking note of how it seemed to stretch almost infinitely, confirming Tony’s words in the gods' mind.
“You know he’ll never love you back, right,” the sound of the mirror Loki’s voice filled his ears as the dust formed into a duplicate of the man, with a body made of reflective glass. Though, unlike the mirror from before, it was fractured in places, “So many sins you’ve committed. So many secrets you’ve hidden. Such a pathetic god you are,”
“Trying to play on my emotions will not work on me,” Loki turned and pinned his shattered counterpart with a glare, “You are welcome to continue to do so, but you will get no rise out of me,”
“Such confidence. Spoken like a man who has to lie to himself every day to keep the voices and memories at bay. Then again, you are the god of lies. So untruthful that you deny yourself reality,”
“Stay your tongue, lest you wish to be turned to atoms instead of dust,” Loki growled, though part of him was shaken at the duplicate’s words.
“Such powerful words from a self-proclaimed god,”
“I am a god,” Loki retorted
“Lowercase g at best. Still, it is such a shock at how much all that postulating and power did for you in the face of a certain mortal,”
Loki stopped, feeling a chill run through his heart
“I don’t even have to say his name, do I? Or even the name of his children,” the mirror continued, “All that godly power, and none of it saved you,”
Loki rounded on the mirror, spellfire hanging from his fingertips, only to stop as he looked at the being. The being had vanished, but in its stead, the entire hallway behind Loki had been covered in broken shards of a mirror. They jutted from the ceiling, the floor, and the walls. Sharp spires of broken glass that glinted dangerously in the low light. Looking under his feet, the reflective corruption was spreading along the floor as well, the once marble flooring reflecting Loki’s gaze up at him amid the cracks and fractures.
“Whatever manner of trickery you think this is, it will not harm me,” Loki spoke, warily moving around his now reflective surroundings.
His footsteps seemed to echo all around him, even the sound of his breathing was reflected to him as he kept the spell fire in his hands, ready to fire it at a moment's notice. The jagged spires seemed to be the only threat, but Loki was not going to take this place lightly. He could still feel the dark magic swimming in the air. It would not do to keep his guard lowered.
“Cowering on your knees is your natural place,”
The voice. The voice of Ebony Maw dominated the space, Loki’s ears ringing as panic set in his mind. The mirror shard shifted as the face of the vile man took up every visible space within the reflective hallway. Those eyes, empty and soulless were everywhere. Loki could feel them apprising him, dominating his view with the cruel face of one of his abusers
“Such a proud mongrel you are. Not even a true son of Asgard. No, merely paraded around by Odin. I believe there is a term on Midgard for that. A show dog,”
“I am no ones show dog,” Loki launched the spell at the walls, the magic absorbed into the glass without a mark, “Let alone yours or your reprehensible master,”
The reflection of Maw laughed, the sound deep and unpleasant as it practically buzzed within Loki’s mind
“Such a weakling. No wonder you fell to us so easily. It took so little effort to get you to fall in line,”
The image of Maw was replaced by that of Loki’s own body. Nude and chained to the ground of Thanos’s ship. He bowed low before the Titan, fighting every urge and impulse to look up at the man. Just behind him was Crovus Glave, hand curled around a plasma whip. The devastation the item could cause was evident on the god’s back, as a mass of lashes was still fresh.
The Loki of the present couldn’t turn himself away, every possible surface playing the memory back to him. Even as he closed his eyes, he could hear his cries and barely suppressed whimpers as Crovus laid into him even more.
“Tell me, do you believe in fate little one,” the term of endearment was sickening coming from Thanos, the Titan holding up a hand to pause Corvus in his attack, “I find it to be…a foolish concept,”
“Stop this,” Loki muttered, his voice cracking slightly, “I will not have you play with my memories like this,”
There was no response from the house itself as the memory played on without stopping. Loki tried to drown out the sounds and words that were being said, but no amount of plugging his ears could stop it all echoing around in his head
“Destiny or fate didn’t deliver you here. Your failures did. The life you led and the choices you made all led to this. You, kneeling at my feet. Almost as if your true nature was craving this the entire time,”
“Enough,” Loki yelled, lashing at the walls with a punch. The glass shattered under his attack, but all it did was split the memory into multiple shards
“The true nature of you is on your knees, longing for the freedom only I can give you. Freedom from pain. From failure. Freedom from everything but your nature,”
He could feel the chill of the ship on his skin despite still being in the hall. Loki swore he could taste the dampness in the air and the tang of metal in his mouth from his own blood. He staggered away from the wall, ignoring the cuts on his knuckles from where he punched the mirror. His steps became unsteady and wild as he ran forward, shutting his eyes tight as he tried to push everything out of his mind. To be anywhere but where he was. His shoulder caught one of the jagged shards of mirror coming up from the ground, the pain burning bright. It paled in comparison to the thunderous beating of his own heart or the panicked sweat that was covering his brow.
“If you truly wish to be free of all these, all you need do is to open your mind to me. Let me take it all away, and allow you to truly be free,”
Loki didn’t need to see the images to know what happened next. Instead, the fearful god cowered against a wall, feeling the tip of the scepter press against his temple and the repugnant sensation of Thanos’ thoughts slipping into his mind. Violating the one place that none of the others could touch before. The one place he thought himself to be safe as they tortured him.
“No. Not again,” Loki whispered, “Never again,”
The memory kept playing on repeat, battering his mind as he sat there against the wall, trying his hardest to fight against it. To not let the house or his past win. Harry needed him. His son needed him more than he needed to dwell on these memories. To let his past consume him in the present. Loki was better than this, better than what he had been before. He wasn’t going to let it take over any more than it already had.
“Hear this, House of Black,” Loki began, magic swirling around his feet as he stood, “You may have seen my secrets. My pain and my past, but you have not lived them,”
The memories playing in the mirrors stuttered ever so slightly as Loki regained his composure,
“I have endured these traumas and I will always carry their scars, but I will not allow some withering abode nor the souls it holds to lord them over me in an attempt to stall my search for my son,”
Heat began to build in the room, spiraling from Loki, green flames taking shape just under his feet. The mirror beneath him began to warp and melt from the intensity of the flames, the memory sputtering out of existence
“The only person who is ever allowed to haunt me with my past is myself. You are not worthy to even attempt as such,”
The flames rushed out from Loki, consuming the mirror and the shards, backed by the rage Loki felt at it all. He watched, ire alight in his eyes, as the memory of him being manipulated and brainwashed by Thanos was eaten away by his flames. Underneath the mirror, the walls of the manor were once more visible, as was the floor under his feet. The flames crackled as they fed on the mirror shards, vanishing as they were all consumed. All that remained was Loki standing in the hall, his hand clutched into a fist.
His eyes looked up at the arrow, watching as it lazily spun for a bit before pointing him down a hallway off to his left. While he had no idea if Harry was any closer or further to him since he was accosted by the home, it was still his best bet to stick with the plan. Even if it took forever, he was going to find his son and leave this place. Let it become just another memory to join the rest of them in his mind.
“Right, I get the theme you are going for, and it isn’t doing much for me,” Tony groaned as he slammed yet another door closed.
The hallway he had been walking on for, if his internal clock was anything to go by, an hour had been lined with nothing but doors. Nothing stood out about them, other than the seemingly infinite number of them. Even when he tried to turn around to retrace his steps, he found the hallway of door stretching on even further than he could see. He knew magic could aid in physical impossibilities, but being in the middle of such a thing was far more nerve-wracking than anything else.
With the doors being his only possible option, with ever his arrow pointing to each and everyone as he walked by them, Tony resigned himself to opening them all in the hopes that they would give way to some sort of progress on his quest to find Harry. Instead, he was greeted by Howard Stark and those damned judgmental eyes of his.
“I know I have daddy issues, but is that all you can drum up for me? Why not tackle my PTSD, at least that would have the feeling of real danger behind it,” Tony pouted a bit before heaving a sigh.
Glancing up at the arrow, all it did was lazily drift to the next door on the wall and Tony rolled his eyes,
“All-powerful magic and it is just as unreliable as Google Maps,” the man muttered before he pulled open the next door.
As with the other rooms, this one was a facsimile of his childhood room. There, off to the side, was his bed, still untidy and covered in several books and clothes. His desk, papers with his drawings, and plans covered the polished oak. All of it is illuminated by a single lamp hanging overhead. And there, standing before the window, stood Howard Stark.
“Going to take the coward's way out and run away again,” the elder Stark spoke, his brow furrowed in annoyance
“Yeah, because you aren’t real. You are just some construct that this house made up from fragments of my memory. Honestly, I think I should sue. I had developed, well sort of developed more like improved, this system that does the same thing, funnily enough, to cope with your bullshit. I knew it had gone missing but to think it was wizards who did it,” joked Tony as he leaned against a wall
The barb had, predictably, gone over Howard’s head. It was clear that the house was limited in the ways it could respond to his words. If it didn’t know anything, then the constructs it made wouldn’t. It was more than likely why it was using his memories against him, seeking to break him down mentally instead of wasting its time conjuring a physical defense.
“Are you going to just stand there, looking like a useless lump? This is why I wish boarding school was year-round,”
“Yeah pops, I’m just going to stand here. See, I’ve already done this song and dance before. You scream at me, rip up my blueprints. Smack me around a bit and say-,”
“You are such a worthless son,”
“Yeah, that. And then you storm out to finish drinking yourself to sleep. By the way, you don’t know it, but you pass that trait down to me. Luckily, I dealt with it before having a son,”
Tony made a move to leave, not wanting to prolong his stay in the room for more than he had to
“Passing on the family curse are you,” Howard spoke, and that made Tony stop in his tracks.
“What did you say,” Tony questioned, turning to face the copy of his old man
“I said you are passing on the family curse. Fathers being disappointments to their sons. Then those sons becoming a disappointment to their sons. The Stark family curse,”
“You say curse, I say a severe lack of parental understanding,”
“I tried my best, but you really weren’t the best kid. Constantly getting into things that you shouldn’t,” the way Howard spoke made Tony itch uncomfortably
“Not really my fault. You had done such a good job noticing me whenever I’d fuck up,” Tony muttered, “Besides, I’m already ahead of you in the dad department. I’m actually going to help my kid when he needs me,”
“You can’t save him you know,” Howard's words turned sinister, “We have plans far too large to allow you to take him. Instead, you and your companions will wander the halls of this place until your deaths. Though madness will claim you long before that,”
“Wow, and just like that you killed any sort of existential dread I may have had about confronting my father. Pretty sure if you kept the pressure up I may have caved,”
“Shall we return you to your torment then,”
“Nah,” Tony dismissed Howard, or the house speaking through him, with a wave, “Magic is gone now. How about instead of that, you continue to tell me your evil plan in detail so I can stop you later,”
“This man haunts a number of your darkest thoughts, why do you not fear him as such,” there was a hint of curiosity in Howard’s voice, and that struck Tony more than anything
“Told you, daddy issues are old hat. That does make me curious though, did you dig around my brain just looking for a person to scare me with? Hmm, that makes me question how you actually work,”
Tony walked over to Howard, keeping a healthy distance away as he looked the man over. He truly was a spitting image of his father. Everything about him was a replica of how he remembered him. That was why, when he looked at the small lapel pin that was polished to a bright shine, Tony saw a jumble of lines and circles, as opposed to a fully formed image,
“Shoddy workmanship. I’m guessing you can’t recreate any of the finer details of my mind. Just surface-level spook and scares. Going all in on the haunted house theme,”
“Unlike the others, your fears and regrets are…harder to manifest. However I do sense something else within your mind. Another fear,”
“Guessing things like loss and fear of death are kind of hard to craft, though I know this witch back home who did a bang-up job of it. Really hit the existential dread of being alone. Anyway, I’ve grown tired of this conversation so if you excuse me,” Tony ignored the rest of the faux Howard’s words as he turned to the door.
Opening the door, Tony was greeted not with the hallway, but with the same room as before. The only thing that had changed was the addition of another person sitting in front of the same spot Howard was at before,
“Didn’t we just establish that this…,” Tony trailed off as he looked at the messy mop of black hair that belonged to whom he thought was a younger version of himself. The posture though was all wrong.
The way the figure slumped forward, those shoulders sagging lowly. The head bowed ever so slightly. Tony may have forgotten most of his childhood in the haze of the early 2000s at the height of his Playboy era, but he knew how he acted when faced with Howard,
“Harry,” Tony whispered into the room, unsure if this was real or just another false projection.
The figures didn’t move, at least not at first. The moment Tony fully entered the room and the door shut behind him though, they sprung to life.
“So, kiddo, are we going to talk about this or are you just going to sit there all pathetic like,” the figure he thought was Howard spoke. Instead, all he heard was his voice
“Yeah, we aren’t doing this shit,” the real Tony growled, “I’m not dumb enough to think that any of this is real you know,”
“I didn’t mean too,” the faux Harry spoke, unphased by the interjection of the real Tony, “I just-,”
“Just what? Disobeyed my direct orders. Went behind my back. Some son you turned out to be, should have just left you abandoned,”
“I know what you are doing and it isn’t going to work,” the words were spat between ground teeth, Tony's hand curling in the magical gauntlet
“Maybe I’ll sell you back to the Dursley’. They had the right idea, after all, keeping you locked away from the world. Lock you back in that-“
KZZAT!
There was no preamble to the attack. No words were said, just the angry face of the real Tony glaring at the now headless body of his copy. There was no blood or anything, just a body without a head lying limp on the ground
“I’m nothing like my father. And no amount of magic will ever make me think otherwise,” all of his words were directed at the copy of Harry who was still seated and looking up at him, “I’m not going to be perfect. I’m going to make mistakes and they might be some big ones. But I promise you, I will never be anything like that. No matter what mistakes you make, I will never treat you how I was, or how you once were,
“I will kill myself before I ever do such a thing,”
The fake Harry looked up At Tony, those green eyes looking far more curious than anything. The young man tilted his head ever so slightly, not unlike a dog, before a rueful smile came across his face.
“I can’t speak for long, but I guess you’ll be good for Harry. He needs someone like you in his corner,” the teen spoke, but his voice sounded deeper and older than he was before.
Even the way Harry stood was different, his shoulder relaxed and an air of confidence pervading from him,
“I can only keep them at bay for so long. They’ll notice I’m not following alongside their mass soon enough. You need to find Harry. Once you do, he’ll know how to end this entire situation. Right now, he’s running from…well me,”
“And how do I know that this isn’t just another trick or trap to stall me more than you already have,”
“You don’t mate, but unlike the rest of my darling family puppeting my body, I actually have Harry’s best interest in mind. When you open that door, the hallway should be back. Just follow that handy arrow of yours and it should lead you to Harry. I’ll do what I can to stop them from making that harder for you all,”
It had taken a moment for Tony to piece it together, with who he was talking. Eventually, though, it did click into place,
“Sirius Black. You know it’s your fault my son is here in the first place, which doesn’t make you all that trustful in my book,”
“It wasn’t me…at least not all of it,” Harry’s face dropped slightly, almost visibly aging by a few years as those green eyes became slightly haunted, “I just wanted James back so much, and Harry was…or rather I thought he looked just like him,
“This house is infected with the souls of my family, all of them merging in this mass of evil. They fed off my emotions, manipulated my thoughts, and broke me down until they could possess my body. They want to do the same to Harry and that cannot happen. I know you may not trust me, but I promise you I’d never do anything to hurt Harry. I won’t fail him again,”
Tony bit his lip, trying to fight the urge to fidget or pace as he mulled over the new information. There was something in that tone of voice that seemed to connect to a part of him that he was still figuring out. The part of him that was a parent more than anything else in the world.
“You know, saying all that while looking like my son is an unfair advantage. Still, I’ll take you at your word. Now, what is it that Harry knows he has to do,”
The way Harry’s face lit up, even though it wasn’t truly his son, made Tony want to ensure that the teen’s face always looked like that.
“I showed him a memory of when my family, loving souls they are, cut out half of my own. All he has to do is get the knife and destroy it. It’s the anchor for all of us. If it’s destroyed, then so will we,”
“We? I’m guessing you don’t see yourself surviving this then,”
“Maybe. I don't know what will happen. I’ve already caused enough damage as is. Harry is better off without me. He’s got you and that other bloke,”
“Yeah, I’m not having my son kill his godfather. If the dagger is all that needs to be destroyed I’ll do it myself,” Tony argued, only for Sirius still in Harry’s form to shake his head
“Has to be someone of the Black Family. The thing is charmed so only those with Black blood can hold it. When I became Harry’s Godfather I blood-adopted him as well. It can only be him,”
“No. We will find another way. I’m not letting you do this son,” Tony knew what it was like to take a life, the feeling in the pit of your stomach. The sickening disgust that never went away. All you could do was become numb to it. He had been the last thing many awful people had seen and it never got any easier
When Sirius didn’t respond, merely looking forlorn at him, Tony knew that there was no other way. Nothing he could do to help. There was a chance that maybe Loki could figure out a way around it, but if not then it was all on Harry’s shoulders.
“Fine. And when my son is crying his eyes out because of this, I will be cursing you in my mind the entire time,”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way mate. Just…just be there for him when it happens,”
Whatever magic seemed to be keeping the copy of Harry around was starting to fade away, as the teen became transparent before vanishing completely. Tony stood there in the quiet of the room, still contemplating everything he had just heard. It was hard to tell which one would be kinder to the teenager. Telling him that he could stop this madness by having to effectively kill his godfather, or let him do it with no warning at all.
It was a choice that Tony didn’t want to have to make, but all the same, he knew he must. For now, as he opened the door once more to find the dimly lit hallway of the manor, he needed to get to his son first. Then he could contemplate just what he had to do.
When Harry turned the corner and found himself staring down yet another identical hallway, he found himself trying to suppress a scream of frustration. It wouldn’t do to give his position away to Not-Sirius, as he was sure the possessed body of his Godfather was still on the hunt for him. Instead, he leaned up against a wall and bit into his hand between his thumb and index finger. The pain was just enough to help quell his beating heart and stress. He needed to think clearly if he was going to find his way out of here. He had already run off when he thought he heard Tony and Loki’s voices and that just led to him getting more lost.
Sitting there, Harry weighed his options. It seemed the house could misdirect him away from the exit, but it couldn’t actively harm him. He had used his magic sight to check the halls and found the tendrils he had seen before missing. He was willing to bet that they were all focused on using Sirius for the ritual at the moment, giving him at least some comfort. As far as he could figure, the only thing that could bring him harm would be either Not-Sirius. Unless he got lost in the seemingly infinite hallways he kept ending up in. Harry wanted to know if the entire thing was some sort of non-Euclidian space, but it wasn’t the best time to try and puzzle out the science behind it all.
Besides, he still had to contend with the fact he had to find a way to save Sirius in the first place. He was sure that the dagger was the key to fixing this entire mess and freeing Sirius. It seemed like the thing had been alive when he saw it in the memory. The way it pulled on Sirius’ soul when he was younger. He had felt it somehow, the moment the tear happened, and it left Harry sickened. If he could find the dagger, then maybe he could give Sirius back the missing half of his soul. At least he hoped he could.
The only thing that had to go on about the dagger was its location, which was back the way he had come. He had no idea how to get it to rise from its plinth, but if he could figure it out, then he would be one step closer to saving his godfather. Looking behind him, Harry figured that trying to retrace his steps was going to be a lost cause, but that didn’t mean he was out of options. He had felt the magic coming from the chamber, and could practically taste it if he focused on it hard enough. So much so that, as he let his eyes drift over to his magical sight, he drew the sensation from his memory. He pushed all of his intent into seeing that magic, squinting his eyes to find any shred of it.
The ambient magic of the house was all dark, but among all the darkness Harry found a sliver of green. A vile green that left him feeling ill the longer he looked at it. Reaching out with his awareness, Harry let his mind graze the magic just barely and felt that same sickening sensation he had back in the chamber. It was faint, but he had found his trail of breadcrumbs.
“Alright, just going back into the snake pit, not like I’ve done dumber things before,” he muttered, his mind drawing up images of the troll he had chased down when he was just eleven.
With his sight still showing him the magic, Harry began to follow the twisting river of green darkness. He was sure to keep his steps light and his wand out at the ready. There was still the possibility of running into Not-Sirius on his way back, though perhaps the collection of souls would be too busy searching the house to consider returning to the chamber.
As he walked, thee faint trail of magic getting thicker as he went, Harry couldn’t help but think about that last vision he was trapped in. While he didn’t know much of mind magic, a topic that didn’t really catch his interest, he knew that he shouldn’t have had another him bouncing around in his mind. Not to mention the locket making an appearance as well, albeit as a snake. What made the least amount of sense was the fact he felt as if he’d know them before. The locket made sense, as he had been talking off and on with the thing for awhile now. His copy though, that was an entirely different beast.
It didn’t feel like it was harmful. Before he had become slightly more bearable, Voldemort always triggered alarm bells in Harry’s mind when the man would manifest in his dreams. His doppelganger didn’t trigger any of them. His going theory was that it was a fractured part of his psyche but that wouldn’t explain why it seemed to be just like the locket.
He was making a turn down a hallway, his mind still puzzling on this, when he spotted a familiar flash of white hair and rather loud robes that made him drop his magic sight for a moment,
“Headmaster Dumbledore,” Harry breathed warily, drawing the attention of the elder wizard who seemed to be following the direction of a glowing arrow over his head.
“My boy, am I ever so grateful to see you alive,” the Headmaster said breathlessly, “Now we must hurry, it would not do us well to overstay our welcome here,”
Dumbledore still stood some feet away from Harry, his hand outstretched to beckon the boy over. While he didn’t fully trust the man, considering it was on his orders he had to endure the so-called training from Mad-Eye, he was still a familiar person. All the same, the words of Mad-Eye were still ringing in his head, and if there was ever a time to heed them it was now.
“Headmaster, that night, when I came back from the chamber of secrets. What was it you told me about Tom Riddle,”
“Ah, yes. If I recall correctly it was that despite all of his charm and wit, none of it held a candle to the darkness that he carried around with him,” Dumbledore answered quickly.
“And,” Harry prompted, still not lowering his wand
“And that if he had been more like you, perhaps the world would not have been blighted by Lord Voldemort,”
It had been a moment shared between just the two of them, the comment said almost absently when Harry confessed that he felt sorry for Tom Riddle and what he would become. The words had stuck with him, even more so with Tom’s rather interesting heel turn as of late. All the same, it was an answer that was satisfactory enough to get him to lower his wand off of his Headmaster.
“Sorry, sir. This house has been sending me all over the place and I’m not sure what is real anymore. Though we can’t leave yet, I think I know how to fix everything,”
“My boy, while your longing to heal your godfather is admirable, I am afraid he is lost to the souls of this house,”
“No, I don’t think he is. When I was in the chamber Sirius managed to send me memories while the souls thought they were tormenting me. He showed me this dagger and I think if we can find it and destroy it, the souls should leave Sirius for good. I’ve even got a way to navigate back to the chamber,”
“Navigate how? I have tried every spell to find you and it took some clever crafting to create this handy little arrow,” Dumbledore gestured to the glowing arrow that was still pointing directly at Harry, “How did you manage to navigate,”
“Oh, well, turns out I can sort of see magic,” Harry answered, “If I focus on my magic, my vision gets a bit darker but I can see magic all around me. It was how I was able to counter Mad-Eye,”
“My boy that is unheard of as far as I know,” Dumbledore seemed to fidget a little, almost as if he was uncomfortable as the grip on his wand tightened subtly, “May you show me, Harry,”
The moment the boy's name slipped past his lips, the glowing arrow began to spin wildly. It drew the attention of both Dumbledore and Harry as it spun faster and began to expand larger. Both wizards had to shield their eyes as the brightness became too much. There was the sound of movement and thudding, and as the light finally dissipated, Harry was greeted by the sight of both Tony and Loki tangled up in each other’s limbs on the ground.
“You both came…,” Harry said under his breath, shocked that they were here in front of him, “How’d you-,”
“Nice to see you too kiddo, but do you mind giving us a hand, your old man isn’t as spry as he used to be,” Tony interjected, his hand reaching out to Harry.
A small blush crawled Harry’s face as he helped Tony to his feet, while Loki stood on his power, flipping his hair back into place with a dramatic nod of his head.
“Right, seems like the spell worked as planned. Now, let’s beat a haste retreat. I don’t fancy staying a guest of the Black family any longer than we have to,” Loki informed the group
“We can’t. Sirius is still in danger and I think I know how to help him,” Harry seemed to be almost breathless, “If I can get my hands on the dagger that started this mess, we should be able to fix him,”
“Dagger? What dagger are you speaking of,” Loki wondered, only to have Tony answer
“Some dagger that houses all the souls in the place. I ran into your godfather, well sort of. He gave me jist of what we needed to do. Harry I-,”
“There is no such thing, to my knowledge,” Dumbledore interrupted, stroking his beard as if deep in thought, “While there are many dark artifacts that this family may have discovered, I would cast doubt on any knowledge you have learned here being truthful,”
“I’m not making this up. Not-Sirius-,” Harry began
“Is that what we're calling your possessed Godfather? I mean KeyMaster was right there,” the smirk on Tony’s lips died when it was clear no one got his reference or cared to acknowledge it, “Sorry, time and place. Go on,”
“Right. Well, Not-Sirius trapped me in my mind while they were working on the ritual. They tried to break me, but Sirius had some influence over it. He fed me memories of his childhood and I saw the dagger that was used to take half his soul. It’s like some sort of container for them. If we can break it then the souls should be destroyed,”
A look was passed between Dumbledore and Loki, one that was filled with a grim understanding, though the eyes of Albus looked far more curious than anything else. Tony and Harry on the other hand were locked into their conversation,
“I know you want to save your godfather and all kid, but what if this doesn’t go how you think,” concern was heavy in Tony’s voice
“What do you mean? This plan will work, it has to,”
“Harry. You said it yourself, you destroy the dagger all the souls connected to it will be destroyed. That includes Sirius.”
The words took a moment to register in Harry’s mind, his eyes becoming watery before he even recognized the reason why he was crying.
“No,” he said with hushed breath, “There…there has to be another way,”
“Kiddo, if there is, I don’t think we have the time to figure it out. Not-Sirius has already hurt a lot of people outside. Even if he doesn’t get you for this ritual, he is still dangerous,”
“He isn’t dangerous, he’s my godfather,” Harry shouted, “I’m not going to leave him possessed by a bunch of souls who don’t love him. I’m going to save him,”
Tony listened as his kid raged, watching the fire in those green eyes as he spoke. For a moment, just one moment, he swore that Harry could do it. That this kid, not even fifteen yet, could find a way to save Sirius in the heat of the moment. As if he would let nothing get in his way. And Tony, he believed it.
“Alright, kid. I’ll back you on this. But after this is all said and done, we are going to figure out what our father/son dynamic is going to be,” the wide smile on the tear-streaked face of Harry was more than enough of a reward for doing this
“I do love how you left out the only two people here who have a grasp on ancient and dark magics in your decision-making,” Loki admonished, though he looked annoyed that he had to mention himself in the same line as Dumbledore
“Loki is right. While I do admire Harry for his want to save Sirius, it is still within the realm of impossibility,” Dumbledore added
“Just because it may be impossible now, doesn’t mean it always will be,” Harry stood resolute, “I can see magic and that shouldn't be impossible. I’ve done the impossible for the last four years. Fighting off To-Voldemort when he possessed Quirrel. Killing the basilisk. Fighting off hordes of dementors. Not to mention facing Voldemort just this year and escaping with my life. The entire wixen world seems to ask me to do impossible things for it. This time, I’m doing the impossible for me,”
Harry dared not break eye contact with Loki and Dumbledore. He wasn’t going to budge, not this time. Even if he had to fight through both of them to find a way to save Sirius, he would do it. His gaze shifted over to Loki, seeing his own green eyes looking back at him, searching for something. They held each other’s gaze for a moment more before Loki seemed satisfied.
“While I do think this plan is bad and that you have far too much of Tony in you,” Loki admitted
“I am the better half,” Tony joked
“I also know that you are my son, which means you’ll more than likely get into more trouble trying to do it if we don’t help you. So, the way I see it, we will help you get to this…dagger. You find a way to destroy it without costing Sirius his soul,”
“While this is a rather foolhardy endeavor, I do believe if there is anyone who can do the impossible, it is you, my boy,” Dumbledore tacked on, making Loki wrinkle his nose in disgust
“Do you have any idea how wrong that sounds when you call someone ‘my boy’,” annoyance graced Tony’s face as he scowled at Dumbledore, “Alright, mini-merlin, led the way,”
The reassuring pat on his shoulder made Harry’s magic swell, the swirling ball glowing warm within his core. It had been so long, if ever, that an adult trusted him like this. Let alone believe that he could truly do the impossible. It was made all the better by it coming from Tony. He felt proud, truly proud.
And all of that pride came crashing down as the floor underneath them all collapsed and they fell into the black abyss below.
In the chaos of it all, Tony had managed to get an arm around Harry and had pulled him in close, the boy finding himself wrapped up in the man’s arms as the air whooshed around them. There was a pit of dread in his stomach, both from the sudden drop and the fear of when they would land. His body instinctively braced for impact, not sure when it would happen. Only to find both himself and Tony slowing down before they landed with a light bump on the ground, with Tony taking the brunt of the damage on his back.
With his mind not preoccupied with his demise, Harry felt the feeling of magic wash away from him as he looked up to see Dumbledore ending what was most likely a feather-fall spell. Loki, hair windswept and wild, stood up and had daggers ready in his hands. His face was contorted in anger as his gaze wasn’t on the rest of the group.
“So lovely for you all to bring the child to us,” came the voice of Not-Sirius, the overlapping sounds of multiple voices making Harry’s hair stand on end
“That is where you are wrong. We are here to put an end to your machinations and destroy your vileness from the Earth,” Loki stepped forward, the horns of his helmet glowing in the crackling green flames of the chamber
“If you are going to be an Avenger, you have got to get better at smack talk,” Tony had shifted Harry behind him as he stood, the gauntlet humming with its arcane energy, “All the same, he is right. We are going to destroy you,”
“We are immortal, only this frail body can be damaged. Once we dispose of this shell and claim the boy’s body for ourselves, we will truly be invincible and will serve as the herald for the Dark Lord of this age,”
“Didn’t I already tell you that Tom isn’t going to fall for that? He is gonna be pissed that he wasn’t the one to take over my body and probably just destroy you on the spot,” Harry tried to ignore the glances he got from Dumbledore and Loki,
“What. I’m not wrong, he has a thing about being the one to end me,” Harry shrugged, being sure to omit that it was something that the two had gotten past. At least he hoped
“Your lies will not deter us. We will join the Dark Lord and usher in the next epoch of Dark Magic. We will use your body and its power to lay waste to the Muggles that taint this land and uphold-,”
FWOOOSH!
What could best be described as a pillar of flame erupted underneath the feet of Not-Sirius, the knotted wand of Albus Dumbledore conjuring them with ire filling his eyes.
“Sirius!” Harry shouted, as his possessed godfather was consumed by the flames, “Stop Dumbledore, you’ll hurt Sirius as well,”
“Sirius isn’t there anymore Harry. Seeing him for myself, he may be too far gone to save,”
Harry was ready to knock the wand out of Dumbledore’s hand before the flames were suddenly extinguished and the room became chilled. Not-Sirius had banished the flame away with a wave of their wand, leaving only a smattering of ash on his robes,
“The lauded Albus Dumbledore. You have taught a number of us. While your magic is mighty, we are many. The magic of the Black family made legion. We are many, you are but one,”
“All those souls and you can’t even count the threats that stand before you,” Loki postured, “You many versus our four. I don’t envy your odds,”
“Harry,” Tony didn’t turn around as he whispered to his son, “We will keep the puppet show busy. Find that dagger and find a way to do whatever it is you think you can do,”
“Just make sure Dumbledore doesn’t kill him,” Harry returned the whisper, before stepping back and letting the three adults stand in front of him.
Harry watched as Tony was the first one to leap into action, Loki and Dumbledore close behind as spells started firing wildly. He would have loved to watch the battle or even joined in himself, but he had more pressing matters to attend to. His magic sight slipped over his eyes and he did his best to try and tune out the splashes of colors or ripples in the air as the four others dueled. Instead, he looked around the chamber, spying the strand of green magic that he knew was coming from the dagger.
The winding magic floated above the chamber, curling along the golden rune that ran along the ceiling. Sticking close to the wall, Harry followed the trail, flinching when an errant spell sparked beside him. He risked a glance at the battle and found his world consumed by colors. The vibrant blue and green hue of Loki’s magic was mixed with the almost tarnished golden light coming from Dumbledore. Not-Sirius was almost pitch black and Harry swore he could see arms and faces peeling away from Sirius’s body as they fought.
It was almost overwhelming but Harry looked away, giving his vision a moment to adjust before continuing on his way. The green line of magic had started to descend and Harry spotted a set of steps that it was following, the magic looking thicker for lack of a better word. He took the step two at a time, feeling as if time was not truly on his side. The stairs spiraled around for a bit before coming to rest at a landing, a large door made of wrought iron awaited Harry at its end.
There was no visible handle and no seams for that matter. Just a slab of metal with the Black motto in-laid with gold.
“No, no, no. There has to be a way inside,” Harry panicked, as he tried pushing the door with his body.
The moment his hands touched the metal, a sharp prick made the boy jump. Looking at his hand, he saw a dribble of blood running down his palm. Looking at the door, he saw some of his blood that had been left behind being absorbed into the metal. The door glowed faintly for a moment before the smell of molten metal filled the air. Harry watched as seams were melted away by some sort of magic, forming the frame of a door. All it took was one moment more and the newly created door swung inward, revealing the dagger upon its plinth.
With his magic vision still up, he could see the tracks left behind by the black tendrils that snaked through the house. They were nowhere to be seen, still infecting his godfather with their vile intent. What was more pressing though, was the lack of magic he was feeling from the dagger itself. The dark magic around the chamber was potent, no doubt left behind by the dagger. However, the weapon itself seemed to be devoid of any sort of magical signature. Despite its mottled look, streaks of long-since dried blood and black ichor covered the blade itself.
“I have to be missing something,” he muttered, going into the chamber itself to see if the dagger was perhaps a decoy of some kind.
His investigation was cut short by the walls shaking from a loud explosion in the chamber above. Seeing little choice, Harry grabbed the dagger and ran back up the stairs, just in time to see Loki, conjuring green chains to lash Not-Sirius to the ground, while Dumbledore and Tony ran in support, fighting off animated sets of armor that were armed with glowing polearms.
“I got it,” he shouted, drawing the attention of not just Tony and Loki, but Not-Sirius as well
“You foolish whelp,” the soul yelled in unison, a blast of Dark magic shattering the conjured chains and flinging them all back. Even destroying the armor in the process.
Harry was spared from the wave of magic, but not from Not-Sirius as a whole. The possessed body gave a swish of his wand, dragging Harry helplessly toward them, the tips of his shoes squeaking against the floor as he tried to fight against the pull.
“Loki, help,” Tony shouted, as he fired off several volleys of magic from the gauntlet, distracting Not-Sirius as he blocked them
Loki jumped into action, conjuring the magic chains once more, this time to loop around Harry’s waist and pull him back from the outstretched arms of Not-Sirius. Even Dumbledore pitched in, quickly erecting a glimmering shield between the three of them and the now snarling Not-Sirius.
“Harry, are you okay,” Loki questioned worriedly, banishing the chain to look over his son, “Did you get hurt or anything,”
“I’m okay Loki, I promise. I got the dagger though,” Harry lifted the ornate blade in his hands, “But it's empty. The souls are all in Sirius,”
Loki made to reach for the dagger, and Harry was about to hand it to him, before Tony scrambled over and grabbed Loki’s hand before he could touch it.
“Don’t. Sirius said only the kid can use it, something about blood adoptions and having his blood in Harry. Which I did not approve of by the way,” Tony explained
“Right, so now what do we do? Because I don’t think our friend is going to give us a chance at figuring out another way to beat him,” Loki gestured to the anger-ridden Not-Sirius just outside of the shield.
The man in question let out a strangled cry before swiping his wand angrily in the air. Blasting and cutting hexes bounced harmlessly off the shield, Dumbledore looking barely phased as he held off the barrage.
“I feel that we must explore other options. If the dagger is not able to be used, it would be in our best interest to dispatch our foe as quickly as possible,” came the elder wizard's reply as he strengthen the shield
“We aren’t killing Sirius,” Harry shouted at the Headmaster, still clutching the dagger like a life-line, “There has to be another option. Some other choice, I just need time to think,” so many thoughts were racing through his brain, far too many.
“Kiddo,” Tony’s answers went unanswered as Harry started muttering to himself, “Harry, look at me,” Tony softly took hold of his son’s shoulders
“Tony, I know I can figure it out, I just need time,” the teen's voice cracked as he tried to tamper down his emotions, “Sirius…he was the first adult who cared for me and I can’t lose him like Mum and Da-James,”
Tony saw the pain etched in his son's face, the pain of loss. To see that look on his son, it tore at Tony.
“I know kiddo, but unless you can find a way to pull the souls out of Sirius and into the dagger, we have to make the tough call. This isn-“
“That’s it,” Harry moved away from Tony to look at the dagger again, “That’s it. That’s how we do it,”
“You look like you just discovered fire kid, what’s going on in that head of yours,”
“The dagger. It isn’t just the container for the souls, it was how they were pulled out. All of them had to do the same thing, stab themselves with the dagger and it forcibly tore apart their soul. I could feel it in the memory, it felt alive. Hungry even. Maybe it will work on Sirius. Use it to pull the souls free-,”
“And then we shattered the dagger, Harry that is rather inspired,” Loki jumped in proudly, “The only problem is getting you close to him,”
The conversation was stymied as the sound of buzzing and chittering insects filled the room. Not-Sirius had conjured a cloud of vicious-looking locusts and they had attached themselves to Dumbledore’s shield, eating away at the magic bit by bit.
“If you insist on this method of beating him, I suggest both myself and Loki restrain him,” Albus supplied, doing his best to patch the shield in the spot the bugs were eating through, “Though if it does not work, I trust you will get your son out of harm's way, Mr. Stark,”
“That was never in question,” Tony answered, “I’ve got your back kid. Always,”
Harry couldn’t hold back his grin before standing tall, the wand in one hand and the dagger in the other. He glanced over at Loki and Dumbledore, both men poised and ready the moment the shield dropped. Tony stood beside his son, the gauntlet on his arm still hot from the spell-fire he had been lobbing, still ready for more.
“Alright. Dumbledore, drop the shield on my count. I’ll get rid of the bugs we’ll do our best to restrain him,” Loki ordered
“Very well, I await your call,” Dumbledore posed with his wand, watching with twinkling eyes as the bugs continued to chew through the shield.
Harry was tense as he heard Loki counting down and Dumbledore canceling the shield. The world slipped into slow motion as the adrenaline pumped through him. Green eyes watched as the shield was dropped and the swarm of bugs came flying at them. True to his word, Loki was quick on the draw, calling up his Joutun heritage to summon a frosty wind that turned the bugs into brittle ice cubes and sent them shattering to the ground.
Not-Sirius locked eyes with Harry first, before his attention was drawn in by Dumbledore conjuring paper birds from the remains of the bug and swarming Not-Sirius with them. Pain and confusion set in at such magic, the souls unprepared for an unconventional assault, the paper birds flapping around him and cutting at his skin with their wings and talons.
In an attempt to escape them, Not-Sirius cast a levitation spell, rising above the chamber floor to get the upper hand on the swarm. His wand struck out, burning a number of them to ash with magical flame, but the swarm was still on him, not giving up as they attached themselves to his ankles and legs, cutting into any bit of exposed skin they could find.
Loki joined in, using more of his Joutun skills, the god ensnared the legs of Not-Sirius in a pillar of ice, frost spiraling along the legs of the possessed body, the weight of the ice sending him crashing back to the ground. Dumbledore and Loki both worked to subdue Not-Sirius, the paper birds forming strong bindings around the neck and ankle, while Loki froze over the arms.
Harry clutched the dagger tighter as he and Tony ran over to the trapped man.
“Let us go and we will ensure your death will only be painful for a moment,” the voices within Sirius howled, struggling to break free of their bonds, “You cannot truly hope to subdue true darkness such as us,”
As they raged, the face they stole kept warping almost uncontrollably. One moment it would look like Sirius, and in the next, it would contort and bubble as if they were all fighting for space to exist. Even their arms and legs seemed to flex and just at odd angles.
“Siri…I’m going to fix this,” Harry heaved a sigh as he stepped forward, dagger clutched in his hands.
It felt so wrong in Harry’s mind as he stood over the ever-shifting face of his godfather. Despite whatever form it would take, he could still see shades of Sirius there. The dagger felt heavier in his hands as he stood over the man.
“Your Sirius is no longer here, he is one of us,” the voices roared, the shadows of the chamber shifting as their magic writhed about, “You will never be able to free him. You will destroy him in your attempt to destroy us,”
“Don’t listen to them Harry,” Loki urged, “They are trying to manipulate you,”
“If you ever wish to be close to your godfather again, your only choice is to let us in you. Let your soul join ours and you will never be apart,”
Hesitation marred Harry’s face, the thought flashing across his mind like a crack of lighting. It was during this moment of hesitation that Not-Sirius sprung on, shattering the ice around their hand with their wand and blasting back the adults with a barrier erected between them. As they banished the rest of their bonds, Not-Sirius took hold of Harry’s neck and lifted the boy into the air.
“Sentiment makes you weak, child. You are just like Sirius in that regard, wasting the potential that the blood of our family provides. When we take over your body, we will bury what is left of you under our madness. Let you truly join your pitiful godfather,”
Harry weakly struggled in the grip of Not-Sirius, his hand trying to peel away the fingers that were tightening steadily. He could barely hear the spells Loki and Dumbledore were firing at the barrier as he felt the edges of his vision go dark, though his eyes did glance down for a moment
“Such power in you, we will wield it for a greater purpose- Why are you smiling,”
The smirk that was playing across the lips of Harry was small but rueful all the same. The eyes were filled with a taunting gleam, not unlike a cat toying with prey.
Harry tried to speak, his words coming up in gasps before Not-Sirius let up on his grasp,
“What are you trying to say, boy,” Not-Sirius spoke, the face of Walburga Black coming out for a fraction of a moment
“I said; you don’t know just how stubborn my godfather can be,” Harry grunted out as he cast his eyes down.
Not-Sirius did the same and a look of horror spread across their stolen face. The free hand that once held a wand had tossed it aside and had taken hold of Harry’s arm, the one still holding the dagger. Before they could process what was happening, the arm yanked forward, driving the blade directly into Not-Sirius’s chest.
The barrier shattered as the multitudes wailing echoed throughout the chamber. Harry was dropped to the ground as Not-Sirius screamed, white light pouring from their eyes as the blade latched on the souls within. A blade that was hungry and would not be stopped. It drank greedily from the body, ripping soul after soul into itself, caring not for their screams. It was forged for one reason, to take the souls of the Black Family and it had no care for what those souls may want.
As Not-Sirius screamed, Harry forced himself to his feet, touching the bruise in the shape of a hand that was across his neck. His eyes watched as Not-Sirius tried to fight back, attempting to pull out the dagger. With a strangled yell, Harry ran over and took hold of the hilt himself, holding it in place even as the nails of Not-Sirius dug into his arms.
“STOP THIS CHILD,” the voices yelled, “YOU WILL DESTROY THE ONE YOU LOVE,”
“No,” came the hoarse cry of Harry, “You can’t have him anymore. He was never one of you,”
As he held onto the dagger, Harry felt his eyes drifting over to his magical sight and he was greeted by the sight of faces being pulled away from Sirius and down into the dagger. They were almost pitch black with melted features, looking less human than they ever had. The dagger's hunger was not sated as it continued to feed and consumed the souls back into its blade. As it did so, Harry reached out with his magic, trying to find one soul in particular among them all. He felt his mind become detached from his body as he floated forward into Sirius.
It felt as if he was wading through a pool of writhing molasses, the screams echoing in his mind battering down at his will. All the same, Harry pressed forward, not giving an inch as he used his magic to navigate the souls being pulled away. He thought his search fruitless, fearing that Sirius may have already been taken. However, for a split second, he spotted a bright light in the darkness. There, holding on desperately to the body were two souls, clinging to one another as they tried to fight against the blade's pull.
“Siri!” Harry shouted, finding that his voice didn’t come from his mouth, but seemed to be radiating from his mind as he moved through the plane he was on.
“Pup,” came the response, “Harry, I can’t hold on for much longer. Neither one of us,”
As Harry forced himself closer, he saw that the soul of Sirius was hanging tightly to a younger version of himself, the one that was ripped away long ago. The younger boy was pressed up tight against Sirius, curled under his arms as they both tried to resist the pull. As Harry looked at the pair, he was determined to make sure they were not pulled away.
Standing in front of them, Harry reached back into his well of magic, the cracks around the bindings splintering slightly. With no true idea of what he was doing, he relied on the one thing that had gotten him through most things in his life, luck and intuition. He willed the magic into his hands, watching as the last soul was pulled away, leaving only the three of them in a landscape that looked more like bits of a ruined castle than anything else.
The hunger of the dagger fell upon them and Harry was quick to let the magic pooled into his hands rush free, filled with the intent to protect. The area was bathed in a golden light as a chilled wind stirred through the area. The hungry dagger was met with resistance as a barrier teeming with golden light and streaks of ice formed around Harry and Sirius. Harry could feel its rage at being denied the last souls of the Black line to be consumed into its body, and he gave it no quarter.
His hand, still wrapped around the hilt of the dagger in the real world, was covered in frost, a magical frost that crawled along the dagger's surface. The more frost that claimed it, the weaker the pull was felt within Sirius. Eventually, both parts of his soul were able to look up and watch as the glowing form of Harry stood over them, protecting them. While on the outside, Harry’s arm gave a single tug, and the blade came free from Sirius.
Reality came crashing back down onto Harry as he was forced back into his own body, heavy exhaustion filling every inch of his body. Even his eyes felt too heavy for his head, as he slowly sat up, looking at the dagger still in his hands. The entire thing was encased in a sheet of ice, the souls trapped within. With what little strength he had left in his body, Harry raised the dagger into the air and brought it crashing down. A final wail of souls crying out echoed in the chamber, as they all met their final death at Harry’s hands.
“Kiddo, I’m coming,” the voice of who Harry thought was Tony echoed faintly in his ears, his vision suddenly filled with the man’s very blurry face
“To-,” he tried to speak, finding his throat sore beyond all reason
“No, don’t talk. Loki, can you heal him! He looks like he is fading fast,”
Loki and Dumbledore both joined Harry, their voices fading in and out of his ears as the edges of his vision began to darken.
“-magical exhaustion. -soul. -impossible,” he caught bits and pieces of what Dumbledore was saying, though it mattered little to him. Instead, he struggled a bit in the arms of Tony, turning to where Sirius fell and pointing.
Understanding what Harry wanted, Dumbledore went over to the fallen man, checking over his body with his wand.
“-alive. -did well my boy,” he heard the Headmaster say, watching the man slowly help Sirius sit up.
As he did, Harry saw something he hadn’t seen in ages, something he didn’t know how much he needed to see. That almost carefree smirk on the face of Sirius, as weak as it was. Just before the darkness fully claimed Harry though, he searched the rest of the man’s face and saw that his eyes, those dark and kind eyes, were a milky color.
"-thing...dark....can't see!," he heard Sirius shout
nd with a pang of sadness, Harry finally gave into the peaceful darkness of rest.