Just a quick author's note:
This is essentially the end of book three, the big climax. What comes next will be a ten part 'Epilogue' to wrap everything up. If you want to talk with me about what happens as we finish up the trilogy, you are more than welcome to contact me on here via the comments or PM service. Alternatively you can find me on Facebook under 'The HP Dream Trilogy', or on Tumblr where I'm @thehpdreamtrilogy. I'll be posting a lot of extra bits and pieces on those sites today as well if you want to come check out the new art work and trivia etc.
Okay, that's enough from me, time for the end...
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Chapter Sixty Three
Harry's wand jerked towards the sound of the voice, but it spoke again before he could cast any magic. "Uh uh uh," it said, stepping out of the shadows, and Harry stopped.
The first thing he was able to take in was that the other person's wand was pointed right at Alex, who was folded, barely conscious on the snowy ground about ten feet away. Harry would never be able to get a shot off before Alex got hit, so he stalled.
The second thing he realised, was that he was looking at himself.
"Hello Harry," the mirror version of himself said. "I'm quite surprised to see you."
"Voldemort," said Harry tightly. This was too early, he hadn't been given enough time, he didn't know what had happened to the Horcrux. He glanced at Alex, shuddering and pushing himself up slowly from the ground.
"That's quite far enough," said Voldemort, using Harry's voice, even easing his glasses back up his nose like Harry always did as he lazily swished his wand and slammed Alex into the nearest gravestone, wrapping chains around him like a boa constrictor. "Lower your wand, and I won't damage your friend too badly."
Harry glowered, his blood boiling in his veins, but he did as he was told. Where were the Vikings, or the Romans, or anyone who wasn't a Rhansyk? But it felt like that battle was happening a hundred miles away now, and they were all alone.
Voldemort stepped closer to him, and Harry saw a flash of red through his green eyes, like the sheen of an oil slick. "You took my body," he said through clenched teeth.
"Yes!" said Voldemort cheerfully. "Honestly I had no idea if it would work or not, but I really didn't think that this would be the result." He approached Harry and looked him up and down in fascination. "You've been evicted, haven't you?" he said, his mouth twitching with a smile.
"Let my friend go," said Harry as calmly as he could. "This has nothing to do with him, it's between you and me."
"Oh how clichéd," Voldemort scalded with a tut. "You couldn't come up with something a little more original?"
Harry had never seen (or rather heard, as he was effectively looking at himself) Voldemort so cheerful. It gave him a deep, dark sense of foreboding.
"Kill me if you want, but he's a Watcher, you need him don't you?" argued Harry, remembering what the others had said about the Watchers being locked up in that ballroom. "You need him to keep my universe functioning."
Voldemort bobbed Harry's head. "Yes, but he doesn't necessarily need all his limbs to do that."
Harry inhaled and threw a look at Alex, who was awake, more or less, but very pale.
"And I can't kill you, Bellatrix and I have had a think. We need you."
Harry scoffed. "Do you now?" he said, scathingly. "What more can I possibly give you? You have my body, you don't need me."
"Oh no," said Voldemort smiling and taking another step closer. "But I do. You see, I need your body to travel the Multiverse, but this," he raised his arms to the falling snow. "Is my home now, and while here, I very much would like to take the form I have grown so accustomed to over the years." He winked, and Harry's stomach flipped. "There's nothing quite like your own body, hey."
"So?" spat Harry.
"So," replied Voldemort, purposefully lengthening the word. "When I get out to stretch my legs, I'll need you to pop back in here in the meantime, keep it occupied. A dead body isn't going to be much use to me now, is it?"
"And if I refuse?" Harry asked.
Voldemort raised an eyebrow, and turned to Alex.
Even though they were several feet away, Harry could see the chains tightened visibly, and Alex started making a horrible choking noise. "STOP!" cried Harry, lurching forwards, and in the blink of an eye Voldemort's wand was moved from Alex's direction to be aimed at Harry's heart. "Don't hurt him," he breathed. "I'll...I'll do what you want," he said begrudgingly.
"I have been dead a thousand years Harry Potter!" his Watcher yelled, not looking at Voldemort. "Don't you dare put me before the entire Multiverse!" But Harry stood down.
Voldemort smirked. "So predictable," he said, and Alex suddenly gasped a full lung of air, slumping back against the grave. Harry wished he could say he scarcely knew the man, that Voldemort could do what he wanted with him, that protecting the Multiverse was more important. But he couldn't. He couldn't even entertain the notion.
"I think," Voldemort continued. "I'll make a little collection to keep you in line. Find all your friends, pop them in a box, and poke them every time you disobey." He grinned as nausea rolled over Harry.
"No," he said quietly, but he knew there was nothing he could do.
"Harry, Harry," the Dark Lord admonished. "You're not seeing this for the adventure this is. No one in the history of all the universes has ever done what we're about to do, doesn't that excite you!"
"People are dying," said Harry flatly. "And I'm sure millions more will die too. So, no, I'm not really that excited."
"Harry!" Alex yelled, but Harry raised the flat of his palm to stop him without even looking.
"Alex!" he shouted back, eyes to the ground and teeth grinding. "Don't give him any more excuses to hurt you!"
"Yes, but," the Watcher said, and the chipper tone of his voice made both Harry and Voldemort's identical heads snap his way. Through the half a dozen rows of graves Harry could see Alex sat on the ground still, but his puppy, Sir Woofsalot was back and wagging his tail, a dead pigeon dropped in his master's lap. "You see," cried Alex, a big grin on his face. "I've had a spot of mail. It's from your sister." He was waving a scrap of paper between his fingers, bound by his legs, but the glee on his face was all too clear.
The Horcrux was destroyed.
Harry didn't even pause. In the split second it took him to get Alex's meaning, he was already drawing breath and turning. He had no time to doubt, only time to trust.
"Stupefy!" he roared, just as Voldemort began to react.
Dumbfounded, Harry's eyes followed as his doppelganger was blasted of his feet and went careering into the air, sailing twenty feet away at least. "Whoa," he said, before realising he probably only had seconds to act and ran towards Alex. "Relashio!" he cried as he neared, and the chains dropped away in a shower of red sparks. "Did you see that!"
