(fanfic)(Harry Potter) Afterwards I: King's X
The first in a series of post-Deathly Hallows fanfics. SPOILERS for the entire Harry Potter series.
KING'S X
by Scott K. Jamison
(Harry Potter and all related characters created by J.K. Rowling; no infringement of rights is intended or should be inferred.)
The thing on the floor looked like a flayed child. The sounds it made were not unlike a wounded child. But that was not what it was.
"You cannot help."
One more half-truth, thought Albus Dumbledore, one more lie. Not the best beginning for a conversation where he had to tell Harry a lot of truth in a short time. But had the boy touched the thing--it did not bear thinking about.
When Harry mentioned King's Cross Station, Albus could see it too. It was a good metaphor for this place, past the veil of death but not quite in the land beyond. The thing that looked like a child came into sharper focus as well, but that was unavoidable.
At last Harry vanished, with luck not to be seen again for many years. Albus kept the railway station fixed in his mind--he had other business here.
"Hush, little one. The end is coming soon." Albus did not approach the thing. Compassion could not be indulged, not just yet.
Uncomforted, the thing kept wailing. The noise made what was in reality no more than a half hour's wait seem interminable.
Suddenly there was a soft pop in the air, and a headless snake plummeted to the floor. "Nagini. Wait, Neville Longbottom killed you?"
Albus smiled. The Longbottom boy had done brilliantly, for all that he'd never been let in on the plan. Among Dumbledore's many regrets was that he hadn't had time to help more of the students these last few years. He'd even ignored the Sorting Hat's calls for unity in favor of alienating the Slytherin students from the other houses. Draco and his friends must surely have considered Albus a monster, or at the least indifferent. Another year, and he could have finished his plan to bring them back into the fold...but too late now.
The thing that looked like a child quieted, its attention caught by the writhing serpent-thing, still wriggling despite the lack of a head.
That was a definite relief to Albus' metaphorical ears, but he tensed, waiting for what must surely come next.
Yes, here it came, a glittering streak through the air, and slamming into one of the benches, nearly knocking the imaginary furniture over. It was the final piece of Voldemort's soul, silvery like a ghost, but tattered like an old bedsheet.
The latest visitor rose slowly to its feet, wheezing like an asthma victim.
"Hello, Tom."
"Dumbledore!" it hissed, making a gesture that might have been intimidating if Voldemort's magic were still available to him.
"Yes, it's Dumbledore. And yes, you're really dead this time. But we don't have time for chitchat just now. Nagini's over there." Albus pointed to where the headless snake had slithered, curiously leaving no blood trail.
"Naagini? Oh, my poor dear." Was that actual sorrow in Tom Riddle's voice? Perhaps this might work.
The ghost-like Voldemort knelt down and tried to stroke the snake, only to discover that its hands were now unable to touch anything. However, the headless snake seemed to notice, turning the place where its head should be to Voldemort's face. With a sudden thrust forward, it lunged into the ghost's mouth, tunneling inside the humanoid figure.
Voldemort looked startled at first, then began to swallow. As he did, he began to become less tattered-looking, more solid. As the last of the tail disappeared down his throat, he was able to stand again. "That felt...good."
Albus cleared his own throat. "The infant next."
Voldemort didn't hesitate to pick up the thing on the floor, then looked at it quizzically. "It looks like Potter did, the night--"
"Yes, your accidental horcrux. The reason Harry didn't die permanently just now." Albus tried to communicate the lack of time in his voice.
"Fascinating." Voldemort unhinged his jaw and swallowed the child-thing whole. As he did, his coloration ceased to be a monochromatic silver and changed to the pale flesh tone he'd had since taking Harry's blood into himself. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I failed you from the first, Tom Riddle. Only here, beyond the veil, could I have one last chance at putting you back together." Albus hoped that he would be believed.
"Well, now that I'm back together, it's time for me to finish killing--" Voldemort broke off as he noticed his hand turning translucent again.
"You broke your soul in eight parts, Tom. And now that they're all on this side of death, they're deteriorating fast." Albus peered about. "It's been some time since I've been in King's Cross Station, but I believe the Lost and Found is over that way."
Albus' memory had not failed him, and the counter had five items on it. A severely melted tiara, a dented cup, a cracked ring, a shattered locket, and a fleck of something that might once have been paper. "It appears your diary took it worst, having been destroyed several years ago."
Tom was too busy trying to cram the missing pieces of his soul into his mouth to reply. Apparently, as he became more solid, his ability to distend his jaw became less. Finally, it was all in, and shudders wracked the dead wizard's body.
Much of the deformity that had accumulated over the years vanished, leaving a Tom Riddle who looked much as if he'd just been very ill for the last four decades.
"Much better, eh, Tom?" Albus flashed his most avuncular grin, making Tom flinch in disguest. "And now, it's time we must be going." He let his mind relax, and the architecture of King's Cross began to fade into white mist.
"Going? Where? And why should I trust you to take me there?"
"To the next layer in. And you don't have to trust me. There is One much more trustworthy and just in decisions than I am waiting for us. See?"
Tom would not look at the light, but shrank away in fear. Albus took his hand.
"There is no reason to fear. There never was, Tom. There may be punishment, but it will pass in time. For there is both justice and mercy here, and One who will teach you the love you could not have before." Albus strode forward, and Tom followed, for there was no other path.
KING'S X
by Scott K. Jamison
(Harry Potter and all related characters created by J.K. Rowling; no infringement of rights is intended or should be inferred.)
The thing on the floor looked like a flayed child. The sounds it made were not unlike a wounded child. But that was not what it was.
"You cannot help."
One more half-truth, thought Albus Dumbledore, one more lie. Not the best beginning for a conversation where he had to tell Harry a lot of truth in a short time. But had the boy touched the thing--it did not bear thinking about.
When Harry mentioned King's Cross Station, Albus could see it too. It was a good metaphor for this place, past the veil of death but not quite in the land beyond. The thing that looked like a child came into sharper focus as well, but that was unavoidable.
At last Harry vanished, with luck not to be seen again for many years. Albus kept the railway station fixed in his mind--he had other business here.
"Hush, little one. The end is coming soon." Albus did not approach the thing. Compassion could not be indulged, not just yet.
Uncomforted, the thing kept wailing. The noise made what was in reality no more than a half hour's wait seem interminable.
Suddenly there was a soft pop in the air, and a headless snake plummeted to the floor. "Nagini. Wait, Neville Longbottom killed you?"
Albus smiled. The Longbottom boy had done brilliantly, for all that he'd never been let in on the plan. Among Dumbledore's many regrets was that he hadn't had time to help more of the students these last few years. He'd even ignored the Sorting Hat's calls for unity in favor of alienating the Slytherin students from the other houses. Draco and his friends must surely have considered Albus a monster, or at the least indifferent. Another year, and he could have finished his plan to bring them back into the fold...but too late now.
The thing that looked like a child quieted, its attention caught by the writhing serpent-thing, still wriggling despite the lack of a head.
That was a definite relief to Albus' metaphorical ears, but he tensed, waiting for what must surely come next.
Yes, here it came, a glittering streak through the air, and slamming into one of the benches, nearly knocking the imaginary furniture over. It was the final piece of Voldemort's soul, silvery like a ghost, but tattered like an old bedsheet.
The latest visitor rose slowly to its feet, wheezing like an asthma victim.
"Hello, Tom."
"Dumbledore!" it hissed, making a gesture that might have been intimidating if Voldemort's magic were still available to him.
"Yes, it's Dumbledore. And yes, you're really dead this time. But we don't have time for chitchat just now. Nagini's over there." Albus pointed to where the headless snake had slithered, curiously leaving no blood trail.
"Naagini? Oh, my poor dear." Was that actual sorrow in Tom Riddle's voice? Perhaps this might work.
The ghost-like Voldemort knelt down and tried to stroke the snake, only to discover that its hands were now unable to touch anything. However, the headless snake seemed to notice, turning the place where its head should be to Voldemort's face. With a sudden thrust forward, it lunged into the ghost's mouth, tunneling inside the humanoid figure.
Voldemort looked startled at first, then began to swallow. As he did, he began to become less tattered-looking, more solid. As the last of the tail disappeared down his throat, he was able to stand again. "That felt...good."
Albus cleared his own throat. "The infant next."
Voldemort didn't hesitate to pick up the thing on the floor, then looked at it quizzically. "It looks like Potter did, the night--"
"Yes, your accidental horcrux. The reason Harry didn't die permanently just now." Albus tried to communicate the lack of time in his voice.
"Fascinating." Voldemort unhinged his jaw and swallowed the child-thing whole. As he did, his coloration ceased to be a monochromatic silver and changed to the pale flesh tone he'd had since taking Harry's blood into himself. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I failed you from the first, Tom Riddle. Only here, beyond the veil, could I have one last chance at putting you back together." Albus hoped that he would be believed.
"Well, now that I'm back together, it's time for me to finish killing--" Voldemort broke off as he noticed his hand turning translucent again.
"You broke your soul in eight parts, Tom. And now that they're all on this side of death, they're deteriorating fast." Albus peered about. "It's been some time since I've been in King's Cross Station, but I believe the Lost and Found is over that way."
Albus' memory had not failed him, and the counter had five items on it. A severely melted tiara, a dented cup, a cracked ring, a shattered locket, and a fleck of something that might once have been paper. "It appears your diary took it worst, having been destroyed several years ago."
Tom was too busy trying to cram the missing pieces of his soul into his mouth to reply. Apparently, as he became more solid, his ability to distend his jaw became less. Finally, it was all in, and shudders wracked the dead wizard's body.
Much of the deformity that had accumulated over the years vanished, leaving a Tom Riddle who looked much as if he'd just been very ill for the last four decades.
"Much better, eh, Tom?" Albus flashed his most avuncular grin, making Tom flinch in disguest. "And now, it's time we must be going." He let his mind relax, and the architecture of King's Cross began to fade into white mist.
"Going? Where? And why should I trust you to take me there?"
"To the next layer in. And you don't have to trust me. There is One much more trustworthy and just in decisions than I am waiting for us. See?"
Tom would not look at the light, but shrank away in fear. Albus took his hand.
"There is no reason to fear. There never was, Tom. There may be punishment, but it will pass in time. For there is both justice and mercy here, and One who will teach you the love you could not have before." Albus strode forward, and Tom followed, for there was no other path.