Seventh Horcrux

Harry Potter vs. Alastor Moody (Pt. 4)

I fell retching on the grass, dropping the Cup as I tried to recover from the clearly shoddy portkey. A quick survey of my surroundings revealed that I was nowhere near Hogwarts.

That was a problem, since I would be unable to properly bask in my victory. Additionally, there was a Death Eater standing beside a gaping cauldron and pointing his wand at me. That was also a problem.

I rolled to avoid a hex, jumping to my feet and aiming my wand at my opponent. I smirked as I realized which of my followers was currently failing to kill me. I would know that hair anywhere. "Lucius. Who are you working for?"

Lucius immediately confirmed my suspicions because he is an idiot. "What makes you think I'm working for anyone, Potter?"

I snorted. "As if you could pull something like this off on your own."

"I could absolutely -"

A rasping voice suddenly interrupted him. "Don't argue with the boy, Lucius. When you lose, that will reflect poorly on me."

I scowled. "Who just said that?"

A guttural chuckle came from behind my former minion, and the voice said, "Turn around. I'd like to do this face-to-face."

Lucius turned around, awkwardly holding his arm so that his wand still faced me. With his free hand, he parted his luxurious, blond hair. I always knew he was hiding something in there, but I never could have imagined the truth. A second face - wrinkly and purpled - looked out from the back of his head.

It said, "Harry Potter. Kidnapped and held at wandpoint after what should have been your greatest triumph...This would be so much more poetic if you were in your Third Year."

I asked, "What do you know about Third Year? And just who are you, anyway?"

The face's mouth curled into a thin, sickly smile. "I am Lord Voldemort."

"What?! That's impossible," I said. Because it was completely impossible, unless another Horcrux had gone rogue.

"Did you truly think I was dead?" he asked. "Did you think you'd actually killed me?"

"I..." - I paused, deciding that information-gathering was the best tactic for the moment - "Yes, and I'm not sure I believe you. If you haven't been dead, then where have you been all these years?"

The face scowled. "Ah, yes. It's a fascinating tale. You see, after the destruction of my body, I was sent hurtling towards the forests of Albania, screaming the entire way. THREE HOURS OF SCREAMING."

"Really? You'd think you would stop after the first hour, when it started to become normal."

He rudely ignored me. "I wandered Albania as a wraith, until a bumbling professor stumbled upon me. I possessed him and snuck into Hogwarts right under the old fool's nose - hoping to steal the Philosopher's Stone. With it, I planned to regain my body. Unfortunately, my host died before I could acquire it because you murdered him."

I nearly dropped my wand in shock. "Quirrel? You were possessing Quirrel?"

"Yes," he said.

"But Quirrel was a horrible Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher! Why didn't you help him?"

"Why would I train Dumbledore's future soldiers? If he wants me to do that, he'll have to hire me, like all the other professors...After Quirrel's death, I wandered the Forbidden Forest, again without a clear plan. Yet, one day, I saw something that inspired me to take action."

"Was it a unicorn?" I asked.

"No, it was a grim. It raced through the forest as if in fear of its life. Suddenly, I remembered that I didn't become immortal so that I could spend an eternity as a wraith. I became immortal because...actually, I don't recall why."