Indignation, fury, pain, and several other feelings Voldemort was unfamiliar with raged within him as Quirrel wailed, blood flowing from his slitted nose, and Potter glaring down at them with a mixture of disgust and pity.
"Cease your babbling Quirrel. Get him." Voldemort hissed at his worthless servant, who finally dragged himself up while Potter just watched them lazily. As if HE, the most powerful sorcerer in the world, was not worth his time!
"Avada Kedavra!" Quirrel roared with nearly as much fury as Voldemort, his wand shooting a bright green light directly at the boy.
"Pathetic." Potter sneered as he effortlessly dodged the spell and charged up onto them again. This time however they were ready, and a nonverbal Depulso created a wave of energy that sent him flying back.
Despite this, Potter appeared undaunted as he quickly flipped back onto his feet, him still appearing pitying as he looked upon them.
"You dare look upon us with pity you half-blood!" Quirrel snarled as he flung another volley of spells at Potter, ranging from typical combat spells, to even dark curses just below the Unforgivables. But none of them worked as Potter summoned a shimmering barrier in front of him. One that he created wandlessly, nonverbally, and held against ALL of the spells Quirrel tried throwing at him.
The entire time Voldemort was watching through the mirror, studying the strange magic Potter was using. In the back of his mind he could not help but wonder, was THIS the prophesied 'power he knew not'? Regardless, it will fall before him like all others.
"Cease this foolishness Quirrel. Finish him." Voldemort ordered his servant irritably, frustrated that he could not deal with this issue himself.
"You know what, I find myself in agreement, Voldemort. If THIS is all the two of you have to offer, then we might as well finish it." Potter said in a tone that suggested he was bored, a tone that infuriated Voldemort more than anything. But then, something happened that stunned both him and Quirrel.
With a flick of Potter's wrist, Quirrel's wand flew out of his hand and spun across the chamber, before landing in his own outstretched hand.
"!!!"
"My wand!" Quirrel cried helplessly, right before Potter snapped it like a twig.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Quirrel wailed as his wand was destroyed, right before Potter's fist impacted HIS face this time.
Not only did he carry the strength well above a typical eleven year old, but Potter's gloves were also studded with metal spikes, tearing into Quirrel's face as he hit him.
"I was having nightmares about THIS?" Potter sneered as he hit Quirrel again, sending a fresh wave of pain through both him and Voldemort.
"I had to leave Skyrim for THIS?!" He exclaimed with another hit.
"My children?!"
*THUD!*
"My home?!"
*THWACK!*
"My WIFE?!"
*WHACK!*
Over and over again, Potter beat Quirrel and Voldemort without mercy as he vented all his recent frustration onto the two of them.
"You fool! Do something!" Voldemort snapped at Quirrel, even as he sobbed helplessly under Potter's onslaught. His face now a shredded bloody mess from the damage that Potter's gloves had done to it, while his robes were slowly being shredded as his body was assaulted as well.
"You disappointment." Voldemort sneered at Quirrel eventually, before tearing himself away from the servant.
"Master NOOOOOO!" Quirrel wailed as his master abandoned him, leaving him to suffer alone at Potter's wrath. But he wouldn't live that long.
As if he was ripping the rest of Quirrel's life from him as well, the former professor quickly began to shrivel up as his lord abandoned him. Soon Harry was gripping a shriveled up mummy by the front of his tattered robes, which he quickly let go as he turned towards the wraith that was his real enemy.
At the same time, Voldemort, now a spectral wraith, tried to flee the chamber through any path availible, whether through the passage they all came down from, or even through the ceiling or walls. Until a certain towering being stepped in his path.
"So long as I, Tsun, Shield-Thane of Shor himself, stands here, none shall pass!" The giant declared as he drew his battle axe, his Voice booming with such intensity that the entire chamber shuddered. Then, he HIT Voldemort despite him being a specter, sending his ghostly form reeling back into the chamber while a strange energy encompassed them all, sealing them inside.
"Did you think that I would allow you to run away, coward?" Potter suddenly sneered at him, drawing Voldemort's attention to the boy as he slowly stalked around the chamber, his eyes narrowed and predatory.
"You may be nothing but a disappointment, TOM, but that doesn't mean that I'll let you escape." Potter declared, before he pulled out a pitch-black gem.
At the same time, Potter held his hand out as it shimmered with more foreign magic, and Voldemort felt something pull at his very essence.
"What are you doing?!" He hissed, his voice filled with equal parts fury and fear as he was gradually being pulled towards towards the gem.
"I'm Soul Trapping you. No more possession. No more fleeing. No more cowardice. You will be trapped in here, nothing more than a simple resource for whatever Enchantment I decide to use you for. Then, you will be sent to the Soul Cairn, subject to whatever it is the Ideal Masters decide to do with you. You will never be able to harm anything, or anyone, ever again."
"!!!"
Voldemort desperately fought against the pull of the gem, but it futile.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
The Dark Lord let out a piercing ghostly wail as he was sucked into the Soul Gem, never to escape.
...
Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding as Voldemort was absorbed by the Soul Gem, several thoughts going through his mind as he looked at it.
Disappointment, that the man he was prophecized to defeat was so weak and pathetic.
Relief, that it was all already over.
And most of all, sadness that THIS was what forced him to leave his life behind.
A glance to the Mirror of Erised showed Harry exactly what he wanted most in that moment.
He saw a manor, built on the shore of Ilinalta lake in Falkreath hold. And standing around it was Aela, Serana, Lydia, dozens of children, and several happy hounds.
"A curious thing." Tsun said as he approached Harry, also looking at the mirror.
"It shows us what we desire most in the world. Nothing more than a pretty lie." Harry said as he turned away from the mirror, and made to leave the chamber with the Soul Gem in his hand.
"What of the thing this shade was after?" Tsun asked curiously.
"What about it? I don't need it." Harry said to the god, still not caring about the Philosopher's Stone. Though part of him wanted to steal it just on principle of being a thief, Harry fought the urge since doing so would not do him any favors.
Plus he was still looking into making his own in his workshop. Not because he wanted one, but just because he knew he could.
Together, Harry and Tsun returned to the third floor where the professors had been, except they were all gone now along with the giant dog. Instead, Harry found them all in the courtyard where Durnehviir was standing guard.
"I see... How fascinating." Albus said as he and the dragon were in deep discussion, though the rest of the professors were watching him warily. Aside from Hagrid, who was looking at the massive dragon in awe while his pup slumbered peacefully to the side, still recovering from his wounds.
"Drem Yol Lok, Dovakiin." Durnehviir said respectfully as Harry and Tsun approached them. "How goes your hunt?"
"Successful." Harry replied, holding up the Soul Gem for them all to see.
"Krah. Excellent. I shall enjoy his presence in the Soul Cairn when he appears." The dragon stated while baring his fangs in delight.
"Soul Cairn?" Minerva asked confusedly.
"The realm of Oblivion where those who are trapped in Black Soul Gems go." Harry quickly told her, earning him numerous incredulous looks from the professors.
"Excuse me?! What are you saying?!" Professor Sprout demanded with wide eyes.
"Basically, when a person is trapped in a Black Soul Gem, their soul is sent to the Soul Cairn. They will spend eternity there unless used for whatever purpose the Ideal Masters decide to use them for. But none of us know." Harry explained with a bit more detail, before directing a look at Durnehviir.
"Do not look at me, Dovahkiin. Not even I know what the Ideal Masters do with the souls they collect. I am merely their humble Zaam. Much to my Paak." The great dragon said with a tone of regret.
"Zaam?" Albus asked curiously.
"Slave." Durnehviir practically spat the word.
"I was unique amongst my brothers, dabbling in the necromantic arts. Eventually I sought out the Ideal Masters to further my craft, but was tricked by them. Now I am bound to serve them for eternity, only being allowed brief respites thanks to the Dovahkiin."
The professors were all listening to Durnehviir's story with entranced expressions on their faces, seemingly only just realizing they were talking to a being that had been around for eons. Someone who had literally seen the rise and fall of empires.
But then, the dragon turned towards Harry once more, a look upon his rotting face that the Boy-Who-Lived knew all too well.
"Dovahkiin, I wonder if you would indulge a desire for Tinvaak while I am here?" He asked eagerly.
"I am sorry Durnehviir." Harry said while shaking his head. "While my Voice and Magic remain strong, my body was severely weakened when I was returned to the state you see now. I am little more than a babe, physically. Perhaps in a few years after I have grown and recovered some of my previous strength, I will summon you again for Tinvaak."
"Krosis. I shall be patient then, Dovahkiin. What is a few mere years compared to a Dovah?" Durnehviir said wryly.
"Tinvaak?" Albus asked curiously of the foreign word.
"Basically a debate." Harry replied, a vicious smile spreading on his face.
"What kind of debate requires physical strength?" Harry heard Flitwick murmur to professor Sprout.
"A debate between dragons of course." Harry stated, his grin widening as both Durnehviir and Tsun nodded in agreement on either side of him, as if it were the most obvious thing.
Though they could not have a debate, that did not stop Harry, Tsun and Durnehviir from enjoying themselves in the post battle, as they quickly prepared a small feast to enjoy with the professors. Needless to say they were very unaccustomed to eating and drinking in such a manner after such a tense night. To the godly Nord, Nord in spirit, and dragon though, it was just the thing as they all swapped stories and mead.
Unfortunately for the professors, they had little choice but to join in after Albus readily conjured a table large enough for all of them in the courtyard, and had the House Elves in the kitchens send them food to keep them going until morning. They ate little though, as they instead listened to Harry, Tsun and Durnehviir as the trio swapped numerous stories of great battles and opponents they fought.
"I see... So you did defeat the Gruthiik. The Betrayer." Durnehviir said as Harry recounted his battle with Miraak.
"Yeah. He was a tough fight for sure. Definitely tougher than Harkon." Harry stated as he took another swig of mead from Tsun's personal wineskin, which seened without end as he and the god passed it between the two of them.
"But without the power of the souls I got from him, I doubt I would have been able to take on Alduin." Harry admitted shamefully, though none of them seemed to think so.
"Felldir once told me of the Betrayer. Not only did he betray the dragons, but he also refused to help them defeat Alduin in the first place. It could be said that it was his fault they were forced to rely on the Elder Scroll." Tsun said in contemplation.
"Indeed... He was the first of the Dovahkiin. The first to show my kind the bitter taste of mortality after he began to consume our souls." Durnehviir spat hatefully before Tsun poured some of his mead into the dragon's open maw.
"Speaking of souls, Dovahkiin. May I see that Soul Gem?"
"Sure." Harry said, pulling it out of his pocket and showing it to Durnehviir.
"..."
"Hmmm...."
The dragon rumbled slightly as he studied the Soul Gem for several minutes, making Harry wander just what it was he was looking for.
"It is as I feared." Durneviir said eventually.
"What is it?" Harry asked, the fog from the mead clearing from his mind.
"The soul trapped in that gem, it incomplete. It is only part of a soul."
"!!!"
The fog cleared from Harry's mind in an instant when he heard that, even before he shot to his feet as he fixed the dragon with an intense look.
"What do you mean?!"
"I mean the soul is not complete. It is...weaker than it should be." Durnehviir said, seeming to struggle to find the words.
"Are you sure?" Albus suddenly asked, inserting himself into the conversation with a eagerness that surprised Harry. "Are you absolutely sure about that?"
"Indeed. I am a master necromancer. If there is one thing I know, it is souls. This soul has been torn apart, badly." Durnehviir stated irritably, probably from having his knowledge be questioned, but Albus seemed too distracted to care.
"What is it?" Harry asked the old man curiously, drawing him from his musings as a conflicted expression appeared on his face.
"We already know that Voldemort found a way to cheat death, right?" Albus asked him, ignoring the reactions of the professors as he said the name.
"We did. You mentioned having a few theories." Harry affirmed as he wondered where Albus was going with this.
"There was one idea that kept coming back to me, I just never had any proof. Now I do." Albus said excitedly.
"Do you intend to share it with the rest of us any time soon?" Snape sneered irritably, having only been forced to stay by the other professors until now.
For a moment Albus seemed to wrestle within himself, before finally resigning as he stated his theory. "I believe Voldemort survived that night on Godric's Hollow because of a Horcrux."
The second the words dropped Harry noticed Snape and Minerva bother react, the latter growing deathly pale while the former seemed to tense up completely.
"What's a Horcrux?" Harry asked curiously.
"An item of the utmost darkness." Albus answered gravely.
"I will not go into detail of their creation, only that one could tear their soul by undergoing acts of a most horrific and terrible nature. They can then take the fragment of their soul, and place it into an object of importance for safekeeping. Upon doing so, they will be unable to properly die unless the object housing their soul is destroyed."
Albus's words settled over the courtyard like a wet blanket over their celebrations, with Snape and Minerva both growing incredibly tense, while Flitwick and Sprout seemed the most terrified by the conversation.
"It sounds similar to the Phylactery used by Liches of Tamriel." Durnehviir mused out loud as everyone grew silent.
"I think I read about them once while I was in Apocrypha, but I didn't pay much attention at the time. Remind me." Harry requested of the dragon.
"They are objects similar to what the Arch Mage just described. A powerful Lich or necromancer could place their soul within it, and they would be unkillable until the Phylactery itself was destroyed. Otherwise they would simply make themselves a new body every time they were killed. Balnu Mey(worthless fool)." Durnehviir explained to them all, while Albus nodded in agreement.
"Indeed, that does sound like a Horcrux. But now we have the question, what did Voldemort use to make his? Where his he stash it? And perhaps the most terrifying question of all, how many did he make?"
Harry snapped his attention to Albus when he heard that.
"You could make more than one?" He asked incredulously.
"In theory, it is possible." Albus admitted. "But as far as I am aware, no one has ever been foolish enough to try it. Voldemort however, fears death above all else. I would not put it past him to make more than one, for vanity's sake if not caution."
"Tch."
Harry clicked his tongue at that information, and leaned back in his chair while looking up at the night sky. "And here I thought that I would be able to go home after tonight..."
His words earned his several incredulous looks, but the only one who appeared understanding was Albus as he gazed upon the seemingly young man.
...
The rest of the evening passed in a blur to Harry after that particular discussion, as he drank far more than he had in quite a while. It didn't help that it was also Tsun's divine mead that he had mostly been drinking.
He was...frustrated that his work in this world wasn't done yet, and that he had to put in more work to fulfill the prophecy to get rid of Voldemort. And in doing so, it will take even longer until he was able to try and return to Tamriel.
Of course, neither Tsun nor Durnehviir had any problems. As both of them returned to their respective realms after the feast came to an end.
Now the sun was beginning to rise, Harry's vision was more than a little blurred, and he just wanted to crash and sleep like the dead.
After making his way back to Gryffindor tower, through the portrait hole, up to the dormitory, and into his trunk, Harry collapsed onto his bed within. He did NOT want Ron and the others waking him in an hour or so when they all got up themselves. And Harry didn't even bother changing out of his armor and robes as he collapsed face-first onto his bed, Dawnbreaker still grasped in his hand.
Almost immediately Harry began to snore, as he instantly fell asleep after the long night, and heavy drinking.
Harry was so deep asleep, that he never even stirred as a certain figure crawled into his trunk mere moments later, their beady little eyes scanning the interior before they scurried towards his armory.