The Catacombs

Hogwarts:

Lucius Malfoy inspected the stone sacrificial altar for the seventh time, making sure all was in readiness.  Unlike the previous resurrection, this one was more complicated, though the end result would hopefully be better than the last time.  The ritual to come would leech the last of Dumbledore's magic from him, and from that Lucius and Bella would use ancient magic to fashion a body from the raw magic and the shed skin from Voldemort's loyal familiar Nagini.  It was very much what the archmagus Gwydion of Wales and his teacher Math had done over a thousand years before, when they created the flower maiden Blodeuwedd as a bride for Lleu the Fair.  Narcissa had discovered the ancient ritual in a tattered tome in the Ministry archives while she had been a librarian.  She had taken it to study as a curiosity, never realizing until recently how the powerful the book was.

Together, she and Lucius and Bellatrix had studied the ritual, and had determined they could fashion a receptacle to hold Voldemort's spirit, and infuse it with Dumbledore's magic and blood.  Mingled with Voldemort's own, he would be thrice as strong as before, immortal and he could at last rule the wizarding world as had always been his destiny. 

Lucius ran his hand over the smooth black basalt, it had grooves along the sides to catch any blood spilled and they ran directly into a stone catch basin at the foot of the altar.  There were even leather straps to tie down the victim so he or she could not move and disrupt the ritual.  Lucius preferred to use a Sticking Charm, however.  He had seven candles set in holders about the table, blood candles, they were called, formed of human blood mixed with tallow and ash.  They were a strange reddish-black color and they burned with a smoky flame. They were often used in rituals of summoning souls back from the Veil, a favorite spell of dark practioners.

The dark sorcerer rested his palm for a brief moment upon the altar, feeling it thrum with pregnant dark energy.  The stone table had been used as a sacrificial altar for centuries and it was drenched in the blood of many victims, willing and unwilling, wizard and Muggle, innocent and damned.  He could almost fancy he heard the screams of those who had died, a piece of their soul trapped forever within the stone.  He smiled grimly.  Soon the table would drink the blood and power of a new victim.

Lucius checked the chalked symbols upon the stone floor, symbols that would call to Voldemort's twisted soul like a beacon, showing him the way to return from behind the Veil.  Despite his two previous deaths, he could not return to the world of the living the same way twice, and so he needed the symbols to guide him through the mists of the Otherworld to the body that would be waiting for him.

Soon, Master , you shall rise again, and I shall be waiting for you, your most loyal servant.  Lucius thought, a quiver running through him.  And this rebirth shall be your last, for then you shall be well-nigh immortal, and none shall impede your reign.  You shall be supreme, and any who will not bend their knee and bow their heads in allegiance shall be destroyed. 

A small smile of satisfaction curled the other's lips.  All was in readiness.  He had managed to free the twelve other Death Eaters who had been trapped in Azkaban using  bribes and Imperius Curses, and now they were also in the catacombs, ready to lend their might to the three principle summoners if necessary.  Also, they had the four kidnapped children, should they need their magical strength or lifeforce.

He had posted three of the others down the tunnel where the children were kept and another two at the entrance to Dumbledore's cell, though the old wizard was hardly in any condition to attempt an escape.  The stone cell prevented any magic being worked within it, and after repeated castings of the Cruciatus and other more mundane methods, Albus was barely able to stand, much less walk.  Yet Lucius had been careful not to break the old wizard. He needed him sane for the ritual, for the sacrifice must be whole in mind and body.  He had healed the archmage just enough so he would be fit for the ritual, but that was all.

With one last glance, Lucius walked out of the chamber, which had once been the site of a terrific battle between a young wizard and a basilisk, though the basilisk's remains had long been removed by Hogwarts' resident Potions Master, all save for a long tooth that had rolled off to the side near a pile of rubble. 

Sixteen foot high statues of serpents towered over the altar and the steady drip of water permeated the room. Lucius felt the chill even through his heavy black robes and doubleweight woolen shirt.  But the chill was to be expected, being as the catacombs were so deep beneath the earth.

Lucius continued down the corridor, and turning left along a side passage, soon came to the stone cell.  The Death Eaters on duty, Mulciber and Goyle, gave Lucius a nod. 

"Step aside," their leader ordered, he waved a hand and the cell door unlocked itself.

Lucius swung the door open and saw Dumbledore lying comatose upon a dirty vermin-infested pallet.  The old wizard was thin and filthy, his fine robes spattered with blood, dirt, and vomit.  The fastidious wizard wrinkled his nose.  "He smells half dead, even though I know he's not," Lucius muttered.  He moved forward and kicked the old man with his foot.  "Wake up, old man!"

Dumbledore stirred and moaned. His eyes opened and he stared at Lucius warily.

"Have you come to gloat then, Lucius?"

"Some." The other answered shamelessly.  "Tonight you shall see the full power of my master reborn.  It may be the last sight your eyes ever see."

Dumbledore met his eyes steadily.  "If so, I go to my death willingly."

Lucius laughed harshly, his blue eyes cold.  "You'll scream at the end , old man. They all do." He inspected the other with his magical eye and saw nothing amiss. "Be prepared , old man, for you could depart through a different door than the one you came in." He gave a soft laugh before turning and leaving.

The sound of the cell being locked echoed through the room.

Dumbledore released the breath he had been holding and relaxed upon the pallet. He could feel, faintly, the dark pulse running through the catacombs and he shivered in spite of himself.  Darkness had invaded Hogwarts once more, and this time he had no recourse to battle it. That must be the task of others.  He closed his eyes and did what he had done ever since he had returned from the Garden of Forever, he began to meditate upon the sacrifice he would be called upon to make.  If he had to die, he would at least offer up his last moments unselfishly, and perhaps that would balance the scales.

* * * * * *

Up above, in the castle proper, Harry found himself under the scrutiny of all the Aurors and Minerva, plus Sirius and Crabbe senior.  "Are you sure that's what the snake said, Potter?" Moody demanded, fixing Harry with his roving magical eye.

"Yes, sir.  This is Vera, Vince's familiar. She's a magical viridian boa." Harry explained. Vera was twined happily about his wrist, her slender body a vivd green slash against his black sleeve.

"I know that snake, Moody, seein' as I was the one who gave Vince her, as a reward for doing so well as my Magical Creatures apprentice." Hagrid said, leaning casually against the wall.

They were all meeting in the Great Hall, up at the staff table.

"Me too," added Crabbe.  "That's Vince's snake, all right.  I recognize her, she's almost always with him."

"And she said she could show you where Vince and the others were being held?" queried Shacklebolt.

Harry nodded.  "She said Vince sent her to find me, on account of I could speak Parseltongue and Severus would be with me.  He trusts Severus because he's his Head of House and he protects all of his Slytherins."

"Aye, he sets great store by you, Potions Master," Crabbe added, nodding respectfully to the black-cloaked wizard.  "You too, gamekeeper."

Both wizards looked faintly embarrassed.

"Did she tell you where they were, Potter?" was Moody's next question.

Harry hissed something to Vera, who replied with a flicker of her tongue and another soft hiss.  He turned back to the Aurors.  "She says they're below us, in stone tunnels deep in the earth, where once the King Serpent dwelled.  I think she means the basilisk."

"But you defeated the basilisk during your second year," Sirius declared. 

"Inside the Chamber of Secrets!" McGonagall exclaimed.  "Potter, can you reopen the chamber?"

"I don't know.  I could try.  But she didn't come up from there." Harry stated.

"How do ye know that, lad?" Hagrid asked.

"Because after we returned from there, Dumbledore sealed the passageway, so no one else could gain access to it."

"So obviously Vera must have found a different way to get out of the tunnels," Snape surmised.

Yes-s-s! the little snake nodded.  S-smart S-s-slytherin!

Harry smiled and stroked the boa gently.  Yes-s-s, S-s-severus-s-s is very s-s-mart. He said, giving the Potion Master's name a serpent's accent.

"What's she saying now?" asked Sirius.

Harry looked up at his godfather.  "She just complemented Severus. Said he was a smart Slytherin."

"Oh." Sirius looked rather put out. "Even the damn snake thinks he's wonderful!" he muttered under his breath.  He knew he shouldn't be jealous of the other man, but all the Snape adulation was beginning to make his stomach hurt.  Even Harry was looking at the tall professor as if he were some kind of hero.

To his credit, Snape did not bask in the sudden aura of praise, in fact he looked quite uncomfortable. 

"So, what are we waiting for?" asked Tonks.  "Shouldn't we be following this snake to where they are?"

Minerva patted her on the shoulder.  "All in good time, my dear. Right now, we're all exhausted from battling the weres and Severus and Harry are too, from flying here.  We need rest before we confront the Death Eaters.  Or else they'll kill us quicker than blinking."

"But . . .what about the element of surprise?" the young Auror asked.

"We'll still have that, since none of them know we're here, Tonks," Remus reminded her.

"Much as I hate delays, Minerva is correct," Severus spoke up.  "Without sleep, we will not be able to function and we need to be at our best in order to finish off the Death Eaters.  Therefore, I suggest we sleep or rest as needed for several hours and then follow Vera down to the children."

Murmurs of agreement followed, and then Minerva said, "That's a sound plan, Severus.  All right, everyone who needs a bed, go to the guest wing off the hall on the right hand side.  Mr. Potter, you can-"

"-come with me to my quarters," Severus interjected smoothly.  "They are warded and he can sleep safely there."

"Very well then." Minerva said. 

"Vincent, you may come too and rest, if you wish," Severus offered.

"Thanks, Severus." Crabbe said, and then he rose and followed the Potions Master and his apprentice from the hall.

Harry would have sworn he wasn't tired after the adrenaline charged battle he had witnessed, but as soon as he got settled on the comfortable couch in Severus's quarters he fell asleep.  Vera promptly curled up on his chest in a ball.  Severus tucked the green afghan about him and then offered Crabbe some tea.

"No thanks, Severus.  Think I'll just sit here for a bit," the other man said, his face creased with worry.

Severus nodded, sensing the wizard wished to be alone, and he retired to his room to get some much needed sleep. One way or the other, the quest for the Horcruxes would end tonight.

Alone at last, Crabbe stared into the fire and whispered, "Vince, I'm comin' t'find you, lad. Please be all right.  Because if you aren't . . .I'll tear apart whatever bastard hurt ye. I promise you that, upon my immortal soul and my magic."  He closed his eyes and unbidden, two tears slipped from them to fall upon his cupped hands.  It was partially his fault this had happened. If he had not bound himself to Malfoy . . .now the sins of his past had come back to haunt him.  But he prayed fervently they would not claim his son.

* * * * * *

Several hours later

Moonrise:

"It is time," Bella said, satisfaction fairly dripping from her voice. She was wearing what Lucius thought of as her priestess prostitute outfit-a skin tight red dress that left hardly anything to the imagination.  Lucius wondered idly who she was trying to impress, him or their Master, who she had always had a thing for. Her wand was in her hand, and she tapped it idly against her thigh. Her eyes glowed with a strange light-partly anticipation, partly lust, and partly insanity.  They made Lucius shudder, for nothing was quite as dangerous as a madwoman who lost herself in her own twisted vision.

Narcissa lit the candles with a soft word and they burned with a smoky sullen light. From out of the shadows slithered a gigantic cobra with green and black scales.

Nagini flicked her tongue out at the altar and then went and curled up about the base of a serpent statue, flattening her hood and setting her head upon the cool stone.  She could sense the magic rising in the air and wondered what the two-legs were working that cause her scales to shiver so.  She knew from bits and pieces of conversations  overheard in snatches that it involved her former master and bringing about his rebirth. 

"Take your positions," Bellatrix ordered crisply. She moved to assume the position at the head of the stone table of sacrifice, Narcissa took the foot, leaving the top position free for Lucius, who was retrieving Dumbledore from the stone cell. Together, the three would form an inverted triangle about the altar.

There came soft scraping and shuffling as the seven other Death Eaters and a few weres that had managed to find their way to the secret tunnel and thence down to the catacombs took up positions in a circle about them.  They were there to lend support to the Unholy Triad with their magic and will, and also to prevent anyone from interrupting the ritual. The weres had told Lucius what had happened at the gates and of Greyback's death, Lucius had been livid that Greyback had gotten himself snuffed this close to the rebirth, but what was done, was done. He had welcomed the weres back into the fold and stationed four of his Death Eaters down the corridor where the prisoners were kept.

"Focus your will and thoughts upon the Dark Lord's return!" Bellatrix cried to the circle.  "For soon he shall be among us once more!" Her voice throbbed with a fanatical worship.

All those present bowed their heads and obeyed.

Lucius returned, floating the injured Headmaster in his wake. 

To Bellatrix's fury, Dumbledore did not appear terrified, he was not begging for them to let him go.  He still wore that stupid serene grin on his face and his blue eyes were clear and focused.  He looked as calm as if he were attending a staff meeting, she thought angrily.  Hadn't Lucius told him that this was the night he would die? How dare he treat their dark ceremony so cavalierly?

Lucius had pulled on his full Death Eater regalia, iron mask, black robes and all. He lowered Dumbledore to the altar and Stuck him to it. "Your hour is near, old one.  Pray to your God or gods, if you have any."

Dumbledore looked around then, and said, "So many of my old students are here.  Such a pity, that you all have chosen to be blinded by darkness." There was regret in the archmage's voice now, the regret of a parent who had watched his children go astray. 

Bella leaned over and hissed, "Save the homily, old man, we don't need it! Ours is power and might, and the mighty shall rule the world!"

Dumbledore blinked.  "Beware, Bellatrix, that the power you call upon doesn't end up using you.  It's a fickle thing.  Power is transitory, here today and gone tomorrow." He turned and looked at Lucius. "Shall we get on with it then? My old bones are aching in the damp."

The other gave a short sharp bark of laughter. Then he summoned all of the vials of magic he had collected through the various sessions and had them hover in the air. He drew a short athame from his sash and began to chant, "By the dark of the moon, we call to thee, by the dark of the moon we summon thee, by the dark of the moon, we bid thee return."

Bellatrix and Narcissa and the rest of the convocation took up the chant.

The snakeskin at the foot of the altar began to writhe and tremble.

Lucius walked counterclockwise about the altar seven times, then he bent and cut Dumbledore's arms, deep enough for blood to flow, but not enough to kill. The old wizard jerked but made no sound. His blood flowed down into the grooves and collected in the stone bowl.

Lucius finished his last circuit and ended where he began. At some unspoken signal, Narcissa took the bowl and tilted it, pouring the contents over the twisting writhing snakeskin.

The skin began to fill out.

"Blood and bone, flesh and stone, reshape yourself to what was known," Lucius ordered and the snakeskin began to alter, becoming a form that resembled a human being. "Darkness mold you, darkness keep you, darkness shield you."

All of the vials containing Dumbledore's stolen magic surrounded the floating shape and then they all exploded simultaneously. Lucius caught the essence and shoved it into the shell and the form became more defined, solid, of a tall man in his late thirties whose face was handsome, yet cold and cruel at the same time, and whose skin shimmered with tiny green scales. 

Lucius pointed his wand at Dumbledore, and so did Bellatrix and Narcissa. "Give me your power, old one!" A ribbon of red light shot down into the ancient wizard's chest from his wand, and was soon joined by two more. 

This was the point that Dumbledore had always resisted, forcing the three to wrest the magic from him. 

Albus opened his eyes.  He could feel himself tense in anticipation of the pain yet to come.  But then he recalled Ariana's words in the Garden.  A true sacrifice gives everything away and expects nothing in return.

At last he understood what was meant and what he must do.

"I give it freely," he said aloud, and in his mind he whispered, thus do I offer my magic and my life for my children.

He felt the last of his magic drawn away through the spell, and his core grow weaker, but there was no pain, only a glorious sense of fulfillment.

Lucius did not know what to make of it. Where was the resistance, the screams, the pain? He could feel Albus's magic flowing from him and with a flick, he directed it into the hovering form above the altar.

"In magic you were born, to magic you shall return, all power and glory and honor is yours, O Lord! Be with us!"

"Be with us!" Bellatrix echoed.

"Be with us!" Narcissa cried.

"Be with us!" the others howled.

Nagini awoke and added her hiss to theirs, swaying back and forth.

There came a ripping shredding sound and then the air above the fashioned body tore asunder and something dark and wispy oozed through. It slipped into the waiting shell and there was a crackle of light as the spirit of Tom Riddle merged with the body his followers had fashioned.

On the altar, Dumbledore gasped, feeling the las tendrils of his magic drift away. He shut his eyes.  In the name of the Light, I commend my soul.  He felt himself begin to drift, for he was very weak now, though he could yet breathe.  Ariana, where are you? he called silently. I am ready, take me with you.

There came a shuddering noiseless thunderclap as the spirit of Voldemort merged thoroughly with the body and magic.

The Dark Lord looked about, his feet planted firmly upon the top of the stone table.

His eyes fell upon the still form of Dumbledore. "Thank you for the gift, Albus." He laughed softly. "But now you are of no use to me." He stepped upon the other's chest, snapping the other's ribs as easily as stamping a spider.  "Did I not say long ago that you would someday be crushed beneath my boots? Now that day has come." He turned and sprang off the altar, strength and magic coursing through him. 

"Behold, that I am born anew out of fire and shadow, restored by the magic of my enemy!" he cried.  He lifted his hands up and out to his loyal Death Eaters and they all felt the Mark burn anew. And yet, even as he did so, he felt something . . .off.  This new body was strong, filled to the brim with power, but Voldemort felt oddly weak.  Something is not right.  Then he shrugged off the feeling, for to show weakness was fatal.

Lucius made a quick motion and the circle of power flickered and died. He came before his lord and knelt, head bowed, before the dark sorcerer. "Welcome back, Master. How may I serve you?"

Voldemort smiled, then he put a hand under the other's chin and hissed, "Rise, Lucius, my son. You have done well. And now we shall find the rest of our enemies and crush them. The upstart Harry Potter and the traitor Severus Snape. They shall be the first to die."

There came a great roar of approval from the throats of the Death Eaters then, and Nagini slithered from the pillar and came to wrap herself lovingly about her wizard, her cold eyes glittering in satisfaction.