Through the Looking Glass ~ COMPLETED

Chapter 40 ~ The Exchange

A low rumble ran through the castle, then a powerful shudder followed, strong enough to shake the food and drink being brought to the mouths of the staff and students eating supper in the Great Hall. Screams and yells arose.

”What is that?” Minerva cried, rising. “Everyone! Under the tables! Quickly!”

The frightened students and staff did as the professor ordered, diving under the banquet tables and curling up tight, covering their heads with their arms as they were taught to do during drills.

Albus watched helplessly as Harry writhed, screaming as the magic within him built up, energy crackling around his body like whirling lightning as the Horcrux within him sought to free itself. A great pressure could be felt within the shuddering dome. Outside, Poppy lay on the floor, covering her head and screaming as rumble after rumble shook the very foundations of Hogwarts.

”Harry!” Dumbledore cried, struggling to stay on his feet, watching the energy build-up.

“It’s too much!” the old wizard thought as an ominous black light began to radiate from Harry’s body. Suddenly, Albus Dumbledore flung himself on top of Harry, grasping his wrists and holding on to him, grounding the suffering, screaming wizard.

”I’m with you, Harry!” Dumbledore cried, and then shuddered and let out a cry of agony as the powerful force within Harry transferred, the wizard serving as a conduit and drawing it away from his charge, through his body, through his very organs and bones. The Headmaster was blown off of Harry and flew through the air, robes billowing before he collided painfully with the dome as the power released and Voldemort’s Horcrux was freed. He slid down the wall, crumpled and unconscious as the shaking and rumbling ceased.

Both wizards lay there, silent and still as corpses as the dome dissipated.

As soon as she could gain her bearings, Poppy got to her feet, pulled back the privacy curtain and ran inside. She stopped when she saw the unmoving body of Dumbledore on the floor and Harry still manacled to the cot.

”Oh, no,” she breathed, covering her mouth with her hand for an instant, then running forward to check the vitals of both fallen wizards.

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In the Room of Requirement, at the same time Harry was strapped down to the cot, a vast area filled with broken, forgotten and lost items had appeared. An old, discolored tiara suddenly tumbled from a broken closet to the floor and began to shudder, adding to the rumbling that coursed through the castle, followed by powerful quaking, adding to the strength of the phenomenon. It, too, issued a black light before exploding, its contents expelled.

At the Ministry of Magic, Delores Umbridge ran screaming from her office just as she was preparing to leave the premises. A file cabinet had shuddered loose from the wall, then the entire room shook. The fat, toad-like witch burst from the office and fled as did the scant few employees that were still working after hours, the building shaking around them as if it would cave in. The file cabinet, which contained a locket given to Umbridge as a bribe when Mundungus Fletcher was discovered selling stolen objects, blew apart, shrapnel sticking in the stone walls from the force of the blast.

In the remains of a small shack, located in Little Hangleton and hidden among many weeds and brush, the floorboards shuddered, rumbling sounding before the scant foundations of the ruin were shaken loose, the weak walls falling in and the floorboards bursting apart, a golden box and the ring beneath them, exploding. A small black stone flew from the midst of the blast, landing amid a pile of rubble and slipping through the gaps.

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Eyes closed, both Tom Riddle and Voldemort felt themselves drawn into, then through each other, feeling the sensation of being pulled through a curtain of warm water as powerful magic whirled around them. Their positions reversed and both fell still, slowly opening their eyes and gazing at each other through the stilling glass of the mirror.

Voldemort’s head swiveled, and he looked upon the former office of Tom Riddle.

”Success!” he hissed, drawing his wand and turning back to face his counterpart, a look of victory on his face.

”Welcome to my world, Tom Riddle. As far as I’m concerned . . . you can rot there!” Voldemort snarled, backing up and blasting the mirror to splinters, noting that his counterpart also had his wand drawn just before casting the spell.

So, they were of like minds, eh? Maybe his counterpart would find the position more rewarding than he did.

”Goodbye, Hogwarts,” Tom Riddle breathed, casting the spell and destroying the Mirror of Erised. No one would ever pass through it again.

Snape heard the blast, and pulling Hermione along behind him, quickly entered the throne room, his black eyes resting on the tall, slender wizard brushing dust off his black robes. The man looked up at him, and Snape faltered. Yes, he was the spitting image of Tom Riddle, what he would have looked like if he hadn’t disfigured himself.

”Ah, Professor Snape, I presume,” Tom said with a smile. Then his black eyes shifted to Hermione, who was standing beside him listlessly, her arm looped through his.

”It appears you’ve developed a taste for Grangers,” Tom observed. “Now, I need to summon my followers, Snape. I am going to tell them you developed an elixir that restored my body. You will, of course, back me up."

”Before I agree to anything, remove the spell from Miss Granger,” Snape demanded, his eyes hard.

Tom’s eyes shifted to Hermione.

”Oh, that. Yes. Yes, of course, Severus. I always intended to keep my part of the bargain.”

Snape stepped away from Hermione and watched as Tom made an intricate motion with his wand, then flicked it at Hermione, who shuddered in place for a moment, then crumpled, the Potions master catching her before she hit the floor.

”It’s done,” Tom said, “now, on to more important matters, such as summoning the Purebloods. I must establish a few new . . .”

Snape wasn’t listening as he pulled a small flask from his pocket, opened it and fed it to the nearly unconscious witch, clearing her head immediately.

”What? Professor?” Hermione said dazedly as he helped her to her feet. Hermione stood up and looked around the throne room.

”Where are we?” she asked, then her eyes fell on Tom, who looked back at her with a smirk.

”That’s . . . that’s Tom Riddle! From the other universe!” she gasped, pointing a finger at the wizard as if Snape couldn’t see him.

Tom bowed slightly.

”We meet again, Miss Granger. As you can see, I’ve had a change of venue. Say hello to the new Dark Lord,” he told the witch.

”What?” Hermione said, looking at Snape incredulously. “He’s what?”

”He believes he’s the new Dark Lord,” Snape repeated, still holding on to Hermione’s arm. “However, I doubt simply claiming the position will make it so.”

Tom scowled at Snape blackly.

”Of course it will make it so. Purebloods are like sheep, blindly following whatever shepherd is at the head of the flock. They will have no reason to challenge me, and I imagine they will prefer my ‘new look.’”

Snape curled his lip at him.

”I am no Pureblood, nor am I a sheep,” Snape said softly, pushing Hermione away from him.

Tom stared at him, then broke out in laughter.

”Surely, you don’t mean to challenge me, Snape! It would be better for you if you just agreed to play along. I am aware of the scars of your service. Under me, you will no longer be striped. My purpose is aligned with that of your Dumbledore, to put Muggle-Borns in a place of authority,” he said to the wizard.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed.

”That isn’t Dumbledore’s objective at all. He wants a peaceful society, where everyone is respected and treated as equals,” she snapped at the wizard.

Tom studied Hermione, a bit angered at her outburst. But he put on a lofty expression.

”Miss Granger, in order for a society to work there has to be a class system. Those on top and those below. As a Muggle-Born, I think you should welcome this change in status quo. I understand Muggle-Borns in this world are treated like dirt by Purebloods.”

”Not by all of them, only some. The rich ones, with long pedigrees,” she shot back at him.

Tom laughed unpleasantly.

”Pedigrees? You have to be joking, Miss Granger. All Purebloods are the product of magical incest, the lowest of the low rungs on the magical ladder. That is the first truth that must be ingrained in them.”

”I don’t think you’re going to find it that easy to do,” Hermione said, frowning at him.

”With Dumbledore’s help . . . I’ll . . .”

Suddenly, the wizard stopped speaking.

”Do you hear that?” he asked.

Both Snape and Hermione looked around the throne room. There was a low hum rising, and a feeling of magic growing around them.

”What is that?” Tom demanded, raising his wand.

Snape grabbed Hermione and backed away from Tom as the throne room began to shudder a bit. A door cracked open and Peter Pettigrew peeked out, his mouth dropping open at the sight of Tom Riddle.

”My word,” the wizard breathed, then staggered as the entire stronghold shook.

”What is going on? Are we under attack?” Tom cried at Snape over the rumbling.

Snape didn’t answer Tom as he cast a protective shield around himself and Hermione.

Suddenly, four shining orbs passed through the ceiling of the stronghold and floated above the wizards and witch standing below. They hovered there, glowing, as Tom looked up at them.

”What are those lights?” he cried.

Slowly, the Horcruxes drifted down, surrounding the wizard, attracted, but . . . somehow not attracted. They were drawn to the half-life of their master, and recognized Tom Riddle as the soul they were part of because he was part of the total existence of “Tom Riddle.” For all intents and purposes, the same man, but from a world of differing circumstances. This Tom Riddle had never fragmented his soul. He wasn’t afraid of death and understood the human condition, even empathized with it, unlike his counterpart Voldemort. But he did share the despot’s desire for power.

”What are these things?” Tom demanded again as one of the Horcruxes floated forward.

It stopped in front of him, hovering at eye level, the wizard staring into its glowing light.

”It . . . it wants to get inside me,” he breathed. “No . . . you can’t.”

The Horcrux hovered for another moment, then flashed forward, passing through the wizard’s forehead and into his skull, trying to settle in the pituitary gland or the area better known to mystics as the “Seat of the Soul.”

Unfortunately for Tom, it was already occupied.

”Arrrgh!” the wizard cried, dropping his wand and clasping his hand to his head, whirling in agony as it felt as if his skull would burst open.

His scream seemed to trigger the other Horcruxes and they all flew forward, seeking entrance into an already living body, fighting for position, appearing and disappearing as they forced each other in and out, Tom screaming, running about, crashing into walls and flailing at the Horcruxes as they pursued him like glowing hornets, now attempting to enter his body any way they could, the wizard crying for help as Snape and Hermione watched.

Hermione was curled against Snape in horror as she watched the magical attack. Snape showed no reaction at all, the contorting wizard’s form reflected in his black eyes as he tried to escape the magic his counterpart had left behind. Horcruxes used properly, were life-giving, but in this case . . . they were deadly.

Tom fell to the floor, encased in whirling light now as the Horcruxes fought for entry, pushing their power into his body as the wizard buckled and seizured, spittle and foam flowing from his mouth, blood from his nose, his limbs twisted and hands clawed as he weakly continued to fight. Suddenly, all the Horcruxes disappeared inside the wizard. He fell still.

”Is . . . is it over?” Hermione breathed, staring at the still wizard. Suddenly, light burst from Tom’s eyes, nose, mouth and ears, and the humming they heard before began again, both Snape and Hermione covering their ears as it grew louder and stronger. Tom’s body began to quiver, then bubble as if changing under Polyjuice. Magic swelled again.

”Get down!” Snape hissed, pulling Hermione into him and crouching, throwing the cape over his Death Eater garb over the witch and turning away as Tom’s body exploded, blood, gore and bone raining down on the couple.

After a minute or two, Snape rose. They were surrounded by floating bits of flesh and blood, caught on the shield Snape had cast. He removed it, and the stuff splattered to the floor.

Snape looked at what remained of the aspiring Tom Riddle.

”Hm, that didn’t work out well at all,” he said shortly, then looked at Hermione, who was standing next to him, one arm firmly wrapped around his slender waist as she stared at the mess with round, brown eyes.

Snape smirked slightly.

“Are you all right, Miss Granger?” he asked her.

Hermione looked up at him and nodded wordlessly.

Peter Pettigrew walked into the throne room, gingerly trying to avoid all the gore as he approached Snape and Hermione. He stopped in front of Snape, a perplexed look on his rodent-like face.

”What happened here?” he asked the Potions master, who glared at the wizard before pulling his wand and stunning him. Wormtail was the one who always manacled him for whippings in the past. Peter dropped to the floor like a sack of rock cakes.

”There’s been a policy change,’ the pale wizard purred as Hermione looked from the fallen wizard to Snape and back again.

What the hell had happened here?

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A/N: Whoops. No, that really didn’t work out well for Tom Riddle. Ah, well. At least there’s no more Dark Lord of any kind now. Man, this story has gone far beyond what I intended, but the more I wrote, the more loose ends I created. There was no way Harry couldn’t be affected, and something had to happen with the Horcruxes. I could have just had them fade away, but naw. This was better. One Dark Lord down, one to go. Thanks for reading.