Hooaws and a Duckbill


Herman Tumbleweed

Disclaimer: Not rich, not blonde, not female, don't own Harry Potter, don't make any money [sob].

A/N: We've seen Voldie resurrected using bones of other creatures, a squirrel being the most humorous (Robst – Knowledge is Power), Harry giving his blood willingly at the last moment, using blood from another creature when Harry wore a fake sleeve over his arm, and many other such things. But what if we combined two of those elements? Needless to say, I've creatively acquired ideas from many other authors who have provided me with countless hours of entertainment. I thank each and every one for their efforts, and if I could remember any one's name other than Robst for a specific bit I'd tell ya. Sorry, but my CRS* is getting worse in my old age.


Harry was prepared for this. Having caught the fake Moody at the beginning of the school year, and dosing him to the eyeballs repeatedly with Veritaserum, they had gained a considerable amount of knowledge of what was planned and had time to counter it. So, Harry had competed in the first two tasks just as if he knew nothing of what was to come. However, the last task was a setup with all four contestants involved to get Harry to the cup first and transported to Little Hangleton. And it worked a treat, as here he now was, tied to a tombstone while the rat played his bit part in the game called Destroy a Dark Lord in Four Easy Steps.

First was "Bone of the father, unknowingly given". In fact, Sirius and Moody had replaced the skeleton of Thomas Riddle with that of a goat transfigured to look like a human in honour of the Dumbledore brothers.

Next was "Flesh of the servant willingly given"; and Harry watched dispassionately as the idiot traded his own hand for what he hoped would be a considerable rise in status among the Death Eaters. In reality, no matter what he did, the fool would always be Voldemort's court jester.

And thirdly, the pièce de resistance: "Blood of the foe, forcibly taken". Naturally, neither the prat in the cauldron nor Wormie had any idea that Harry had covered his arms with bladders which contained blood from a creature that was far from human, and contained absolutely no magic whatsoever. In fact Harry had wondered how Remus had come up with the substance; that had to be a story in itself. The things were native to only one place on earth.

With considerable amusement, the young wizard watched as the cauldron spat, sputtered, sparked, and turned several different colours, finally settling down to a putrid blue green. It then billowed a considerable amount of steam of the same colour which ultimately turned charcoal grey, then black. When that blew away in the light breeze, a being arose from the cauldron, more terrible than ever before, at least in the looks department.

Just barely holding in his amusement, which threatened to break out in guffaws at any moment, the teen watched as It tried to run Its hand over Its body as if to worship Itself. But then It looked down to see that the body was covered with multicoloured fur in brown, tan, and white, Its legs were on backward, more or less as a goat's would be, and Its hands were like paws only harder, somewhere between fleshy and hoof-like, at the ends of skinny little arms.

The head was the thing that had Harry on the verge of rolling on the ground in laughter. He'd never seen one that looked somewhat like a goat with the horns and eyes positioned on either side of the snout but with snake-like slit pupils. The truly amusing part was how the snout flattened out to look very much like a wide duck's bill with snake like slits for breathing. It was carefully examining the bill with both fore-... pawoofs(?)… hooaws(?). Harry couldn't decide what to call them, but thought they looked appropriate, considering the rest of the body, if mostly unusable for much but possibly swimming and batting things around. Or walking on, which thought made the youngster nearly lose it and start hooting in laughter.

It then stepped gingerly out of the cauldron, obviously trying to figure out how to walk on the ungainly legs It now possessed. Needless to say, It was not a happy camper, erm, creature. It looked down at Wormie cruelly, or at least as much as something with that facial configuration could do so, and bleated, "Robe me, you worthless sack of shite."

That did it for Harry; the goat-like voice was more than his already overly strained sense of humour could take. Soon a chuckle escaped, then a few titters and giggles, then a full blown laugh, followed quickly by some very loud guffaws. If it hadn't been for the ropes holding him, rather loosely now, to the headstone, he'd have been rolling about on the ground, though he was holding his sides as it was. Just to be a smartarse, but more because Wormie had gotten them too tight, he'd wandlessly loosened the ropes and applied a sticking charm so they still looked tight, but were in fact quite a bit more comfortable than before.

No one other than Hermione and Fleur knew he was becoming quite adept at wandless magic. She of the bushy hair, of course, had a great incentive program and seldom wore any underthings when they were "practicing for the tournament". Since he didn't either, she was becoming quite adept as well with his similar incentive program. Fleur joining their little "study" group had greatly increased their "study" time, not to mention bolstering the aforementioned incentive program, so all three could now perform many, many, many spells wandlessly, and wordlessly as well, something they kept between the three of them for the time being. The addition of Fleur had helped the two younger people considerably with the wordless casting, and with her incentive program being so… enticing, they quickly made great strides. That Harry and Hermione had to frequently slink back into the castle from the Beauxbatons carriage early of a morning under his invisibility cloak was, of course, a coincidence due to their "study sessions" going on past curfew. Well past, truth be told. Incentive programs can, and often do, get away from those involved, after all. And they did "study" a lot.

Needless to say the Dark… Lord(?) was incensed by the boy's reaction and snatched his wand out of Wormtail's hand, though that did take a few tries, since he/It had to use both fore… whatevers to do so. The lack of an opposable thumb seem to be a bit of a challenge for him/It. Pointing the wand in the youth's general laughing direction, he intoned something close to "Crucio".

Harry kept right on laughing through the pain. It wasn't the most pleasant of feelings, obviously, but the sight of the enraged… creature as it hopped up and down shouting in rage with that really odd voice, made it impossible for him to stop laughing at the time. It had to cast the curse several times as it kept interrupting itself to hop around in rage. Of course the flat, hairy, beaver-like tail holding the back of Its robes up and twitching back and forth at odd intervals didn't help Harry's state of mind, or rather his state of laughter.

As Harry hung against the ropes still laughing, though he was beginning to calm somewhat, the Dark Thingie (the messy haired wizard decided that was a good moniker for now) told Wormie, "Give me your arm, Shithead. No, you dolt, the other arm. I haven't decided whether your fuck-up here warrants my giving you any kind of reward, you worthless excuse for a wizard." When said sorry-arsed wizard had stuck his left arm out, reluctantly and nervously it seemed, the Dark Thingie pushed Its wand, still using both fore… appendages, sharply against the dark mark revealed on Wormie's pale skin. As the mark grew blacker and smoked a bit, the gormless court jester let out a scream fit for a ten year old girl on a roller coaster. Harry snickered some more, of course. He figured the traitor earned anything and everything he got, pain-wise, from the Dark Whatsit. (That sounded like another good nickname for the… It.)

"Now," the goatish voice stated with finality, "we wait for those whose loyalty is even more in question than yours, Wormtail." It spat the name as though it left a bad taste in Its mouth, which was probably the one thing It and Harry wholly agreed on.

Harry couldn't help another giggle, earning him another dose of the Cruciatus Curse which he realized wasn't nearly as horrendous as the descriptions he'd heard. This time though, he screamed and writhed about as if it was killing him, but that was only to fake out the Dark Thingie. Inside though, he was wondering if there having been only one magical component in the ritual, Wormie's hand, instead of the two it called for, plus using two animals and a sorry wizard instead of elements of one Muggle and two good wizards in the ritual had reduced the thing's magical power. Harry reckoned he'd find out soon enough.

"While we wait, Harry Potter," the Dark Thingie bleated, "would you like to tell me how it is that my worthless minion managed to fuck up my resurrection in such a spectacular manner. I know you had to have had a hand in this."

"Sure, Tom, I'd love to tell you, but it would ruin the surprise." He truly was doing his best not to giggle at that voice, but not very successfully.

"Oh, how I love a surprise!" The bleating voice managed to convey sarcastic irony, surprising Harry. Continuing, the Thing added, "Well, we wouldn't want to spoil your surprise now, would we. I'm afraid though, Harry, that there won't be time for any surprises. As soon as my not-so-loyal followers arrive, you and I are going to duel, and then I am going to kill you."

"Really?" the boy answered in surprise, "I guess that means I get to see my parents again then. That should be really cool. I bet they are going to be really, really angry with you, Tom. I wouldn't want to be you if my redheaded mum and Marauder father ever get hold of you. Not pretty; no, not pretty at all. Of course they may be laughing too hard at my dad saying that the people at the orphanage must have wrapped your sandwiches in a roadmap. Damn, but you are one ugly… Huh! Can't think of what to call you, Tommy." That earned him another brief "Crucio", of course, but he still had to fake his reaction to the pain.

Meanwhile, the Dark Thingie seemed to be getting used to the odd assortment of limbs it had, and was actually even able to grip its wand in one… hooaw. Harry wondered if It had used a wandless sticking charm. It was stalking about on Its really weird looking hind… paoofs, instead of whatever would normally be there; well, as much as one could stalk with satyr-like legs. Obviously It was becoming more and more agitated at the length of time Its minions were taking to show, even if it had only been a couple of minutes.

Shortly thereafter, with a sound like a small firefight, or really loud popcorn, numerous wizards Apparated into the graveyard, quickly forming themselves into a rough circle. When the last stragglers had arrived, a couple of hulking behemoths that could only be related to Crabbe and Goyle, the Dark Thingie spent several minutes berating them in Its weird voice. Eventually the Dark Thingie wound up Its tirade, such as it was with all the slurred, goatish, and ill-pronounced words, but at least it was finished ranting; or trying to. It stalked on those funny legs and feet over to Harry.

Then, as if to put on a great display, it waved its hand, er, hooaw at Harry; obviously intending for the ropes to disappear. However, Harry had vanished the ropes, wandlessly, a few minutes earlier, while the Dark Thingie was ranting and raving at his erstwhile supporters, so there were no ropes to vanish. It kind of spoiled the spectacle, needless to say.

Smirking impudently at the Dark Thingie, Harry said, "Sorry to spoil an exhibition of your prowess, Tommy, but the damn ropes were too tight after that, what did you call it… Cruciatus? Yeah, that must have been it, but I thought that was supposed to hurt more. And anyway, while you were busy pontificating I had to have a piss and the damn things were in the way."

"Wormtail," the Dark Thingie commanded, in a very angry and nearly intelligible voice, "give him back his wand so we might have a proper duel now." It was eyeing Harry maliciously.

The sorry-arsed wizard was now looking decidedly hard done by, and pale from blood loss. He searched his robe pockets, then the ground looking for the wand he'd taken from the boy when the latter arrived. Finally he looked up at the Dark Whatsit and said plaintively, "I can't find it, my lord…"

Harry, meanwhile, was looking down at his right hand, then slowly raised it with the wand in it in full view. "Is this the wand you were looking for, Wormie?"

Needless to say, Wormie looked even paler and likely to pass out any second now, though the Dark Thingie only looked suspicious; a very creepy expression on that composite countenance. "I wonder how it is, Harry Potter, that you managed that bit of legerdemain, when I distinctly saw the clown here remove that wand from your possession when you landed," the Dark Whatsit said in as low and menacing a voice as it could manage. The bleating rather ruined the effect, though.

"Does it really matter, Tom? I just managed to get it back when he was too close, that's all. Now, shall we get on with the farce?" Harry was looking forward to this: to finally bringing all this shite to an end. "Yes, yes of course," was the bleated reply. "First, of course, we bow."

"Why naturally; the niceties must be observed mustn't they, Mr Riddle?" Harry bowed slightly, which the Dark Thingie returned rather stiffly. Seemed its body didn't bend that way too well.

Once again the creature led with a shouted "Crucio", which Harry easily side-stepped.

"Slowing down a bit there, Tommy boy? I mean, really Tom, you're so ugly I bet they put shutters on your pram to keep from scaring people. And now you're slow too? Sad, Tommy, sad." He was hoping to rile It up some more in order for It to cast what he wanted It to. Somehow he knew by doing so, he would be able to overpower it with a certain condition inherent in brother wands. His ravishingly sexy Hermione and sensually gorgeous Fleur were brilliant researchers. They also had a large… er, great incentive program from their favourite wizard.

The Dark Thingie was absolutely incensed that the brat had managed to avoid his curse and decided to quit fucking around with the imbecile. He had no idea he was playing right into said brat's hands. "Avada Kedavra", he/It shouted, somehow managing to do so clearly without lips, which rather impressed his young opponent. He wondered how It managed the "v" sounds without lips.

Given the lack of power in the Dark Whatsit's Cruciatus, it was no surprise to the young wizard that the Killing Curse wasn't quite the speeding death it had once been, more like a slow freight train just starting up. Harry really, really hoped his two juicy… erm, delectable lovers knew what the hell they were talking about when he responded with "Fiendfyre". As predicted by the two very randy… er, exquisite researchers, the two spells met in the middle and the two wands were locked together by a golden beam in a battle for dominance.

One effect his lovely researchers weren't sure would appear was the cage of golden light, complete with phoenix song. It did, to his immense relief, and spread instantly out to cover the two opponents from the point their spells connected. Any Death Eater who tried to cross that barrier was thrown back immediately, and with considerable force, to land hard several yards away. Obviously, Harry was more than a bit pleased to have the girls be correct on that one, and decided they warranted some extra rewards. He'd have to talk discretely with Madam Pomfrey about some potions to help him keep it u… er, improve his stamina.

Since the Killing Curse was arguably the more powerful spell, the solid ball of light at the joining of the two spells started immediately moving, albeit slowly, toward Harry. All the young wizard had to do was concentrate a bit and the ball started moving right back to the centre, and soon was approaching the Dark Thingie's wand.

Of course the Death Idiots were throwing curse after curse at the golden cage, which all rebounded, some hitting others, taking them out of the "fight" or out of this world permanently, as the case may be. Exasperatedly, the Riddle Whatsit yelled to Its minions, "Do not interfere, there is nothing you can do to help, nor do I wish for assistance from any of you worthless wankers."

Harry decided that was his cue, or rather the cue for his backup. He smiled evilly at the Dark Thingie and yelled a code phrase, "Time for the hounds to round up the chickens." Immediately a large number and variety of spells were fired into the thirty-one Death Eaters, or at least the 23 still standing. Some bounced off the cage, but were of no consequence to any but the dark wizards who were hit by them. It was a decidedly one-sided battle, if you could even call it that. The conflict was over in about two and half seconds. Immediately after, over fifty Aurors and Hit Wizards/Witches removed their disillusionment charms to the surprise of no one but the Dark Thingie. His followers were too unconscious to care, and had already had their big surprises for the night.

"Damn, Tom," Harry said feigning sadness, "looks like my friends and associates just took down your minions. Shame, that. What are you gonna do now, tall, furry, and ugly?"

Tom, of course, was trying without success to break the wand connection by pulling back on his. It was the magical equivalent of hooking a six hundred pound marlin, and he was shit outta luck. Harry noticed It couldn't even let go of the wand. They hadn't found that in their research, but it worked for Harry. He mused for a moment that the Priori Incantatum effect must have strengthened the sticking charm or whatever It had used to be able to hold the wand.

Moments later, the ball of light connected with the Dark Thingie's wand, and as predicted, a few spells came out as odd little blobs which probably meant something to someone, but Harry had no idea. Then the shade of an old man came out of the wand, followed by a womanly shape. The old man walked to Harry and said, "You hold on there, young man, others is comin' that'll wanna talk wit'cha."

Harry nodded and watched as the woman approached next, while another figure was coming out of the wand. Harry looked the woman up and down, and asked, "Bertha Jorkins, I presume?"

"Yes, young man, but I think you want to speak more with the woman behind me."

Harry replied, "Thank you, ma'am," but the perpetually randy teen (aren't they all?) was thinking, "Damn that Bertha Jorkins was one hot witch; now that's a waste."

The young woman who approached next was even more beautiful, all the more so to Harry's eyes, because she was someone he'd wanted to see for a long time. He could barely keep his attention and concentration on what his wand was doing, especially as a male form started coming from the evil creature's wand.

The figure of his mother walked up to him, passed behind and came to stand on his left side. "Hold on, Harry, my dear son. Hold on and your father will be here shortly. We can help, I think."

The young wizard had a million things to say, and all of them were stuck in his throat at once. He couldn't utter a word; only stare at the shade of his mum stood there beside him.

True to her words, the next figure when it became formed fully was his dad. The tears that had started in the young man's eyes at the sight of his mother now began to flow freely as his father came to stand at his right side. Both put one hand on his shoulders and he could feel the love pouring off them, not to mention a bit of a boost in power. Now that was unexpected.

"H… hi, Dad, hi, Mum." He looked at each of them, and they seemed to have tears running down their cheeks as well.

Finally, his dad spoke, "Oh, Harry, we wanted so much to be there for you, to teach you all that we could. I'm sure you'd have made a fine Marauder, but you are quite a fine man despite that you don't have my more playful and devil-may-care attitude. But, you have your mother's heart and her intelligence, and those are only two of your wonderful traits."

"Your father is correct, Harry, we have watched over you from the time we were taken from you, and if I could strangle my sister I would. Alas, that is in the past, and after tonight you no longer need to go back. If you stick with your lovely ladies, though I doubt you could not at this stage, you will be able to make your own decisions."

"Speaking of which, son," James interjected, "way to go with those witches. Wowee, those are three hot young ladies. You started getting some younger than I did, and beat Padfoot by quite a while as well. Good going."

"James, we did not come here to talk about our son's sex life." She turned back to Harry with a loving smile, "I must say, though, that we are proud of you for the lovely, intelligent ladies who have chosen to bond with you."

"Erm, wait a second." Harry felt like he was watching a tennis match as he talked with the two of them. But, one of the things his dad said – then what his mum added to that – rather gave him pause. "Dad, did you say three witches. There's only Hermione and Fleur, and I love them both dearly. I'd never want to endanger that for one more girl. Never! And what did you mean by bond, Mum?"

Lily grinned mischievously and chuckled a bit, glancing over her shoulder at the spell residue and people still spewing from the Dark Thingie's wand. "Harry, we only have a few more moments, but I have to tell you that Gabrielle is older than she looks. She turns twelve in a few days, which makes her less than three years younger than you. Veela age differently from others, and when she enters puberty shortly she will grow up quite rapidly. A year from now she will be a very lovely girl, indeed. And as for the bonding, yes we mean that in just the way it sounds. The girls have each made a decision that you are the one and only man for them, and after they talked about it the older girls took the step to make sure you couldn't get away from them. The bond was completed when they willingly and lovingly gave you their virginity."

At his scowl, she went on, "The love you feel for them is your own, they did not manipulate you into this. They couldn't; it doesn't work that way with love bonds. It was more a matter of you and your big heart and your powerful magic pulling them to you. Saving Gabby's life in the lake, and never doubt that you did so, created a tentative bond that either of you could break, but it would break her heart to do so. When she is old enough, you should take her to your bed as well, because she loves you as much as the others. That is why she is often in the bed with you in the morning. She can't stand to be away from you, either. Being bonded with all three will make you and them happy for a long time."

James took over then, also watching Riddle's wand for a moment, "Okay, Harry, we really do have to leave you quite shortly, so listen up. As soon as we all surround the dark son-of-a-bitch, you'll only have a few seconds before we fade…"

He was cut off by his wife, "James, have you looked outside this cage at all? We are not surrounded by Death Eaters, those are Aurors, and Mad-eye and Amelia are here."

James looked around for a moment, then laughed, saying, "So they are, love, so they are. Okay then, Harry," he grinned, "when you get ready, break the spell…"

"Sorry, Dad, but Hermione, Fleur and I already worked out what happens next. You can watch, but make sure you all stand back. Behind me would be best. Promises to be a good show, and it is a master prank on the Dark Twat Thingie over there. "

"One last thing, son," Lily said, "the lady over there with the grey hair and monocle is Madam Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Make sure you get to know her as soon as this is ended."

Harry replied, "I will, Mum, thanks." Then he kissed her cheek and asked, "Are we ready, everyone?"

All the people who'd come out of the Dastardly Dark Whatsit's wand moved behind Harry, voicing their encouragement, while his parents stayed just behind with their hands on his shoulders. It felt good, even if he knew it was only temporary. He'd never forget these few minutes with them.

When all the shades were clear and only the odd blobs remained near the brother wand effect, Harry stared hard at the Thing on the other end of the connected spells. Its wand was vibrating like it was about to explode, which wasn't far from the truth. Harry was overpowering it, what with the strong spells both had cast. Not that the Dark Thingie's spell had been all that strong, as AK's go.

"So, Tommy boy," the young wizard called, "are you prepared to enjoy eternity in a rather warm climate; ready to see what the next great adventure is all about?"

"I cannot be defeated, especially not by a still-wet-behind-the-ears whelp like you. Even if you do manage to somehow vanquish me, I shall come back again and again until you are dead and I rule the world. I have gone far down the road to immortality, and nothing can keep me from returning."

Harry laughed. "Are you talking about your soul jars, Tom; your many horcruxes? We did some research in Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel's library over Christmas Break and found something interesting." Unbeknownst to Albus, the three youths had been invited by Fleur's many times great-grandmother to their home in Avignon. The quite elderly couple were still alive because they always had a backup stone, not that they'd sent the real one to the furry dingbat in the first place.

Harry continued taunting the Dark Thingie, "Guess what, grass breath, the damn things don't work. The only reason you remained is because of some fluke in how my Mum protected me, combined with your silly-arsed attempt to make one more of those stupid things out of my murder. No one has ever been revived with one of those things, or we'd be up to our arses in dark lords and ladies. Oh, by the way I destroyed your diary in my second year at Hogwarts. Seems ol' Lucky Lucius was trying to outthink everyone and discredit Arthur Weasley by using his youngest child, an eleven year old girl, to set the monster of Slytherin loose. That arsehole is certifiably sick using a child that way. Oh, and I killed the damn basilisk, even though I didn't really want to. She was beautiful, but looked good skinned as well. I'm making a bundle off of that carcass, I can tell you."

Smirking broadly and maliciously, the youth asked, "So, any last words, Tom?"

"Fuck you, you little shite. I'll have your soul for lunch, you bastard."

"Is that your final answer, Tom?"

The other just attempted to flip him off, though the hooaw was a bit too stiff, so the whole appendage stuck up. Harry got the hint, but just smirked back. He had to get in one last jab, though, and said, "So, Tom, what'cha gonna do for a face when that Troll wants its arse back?"

And then, with an almighty lurch, the young wizard pulled back on his wand which did finally break the connection. The Dark Thingie just stood there looking dazed and exhausted, if angry as hell, and Harry followed the plan of not giving It time to do anything else. Immediately, he again yelled, "Fiendfyre". The goat looking Thingie never got off another spell to connect with Harry's, so the creature was instantly immolated by searing hot flame, screeching for a moment so loudly it echoed around the graveyard and was likely heard down the hill in the village.

The golden cage had disappeared as soon as the spell connection was broken, so following their instructions, several witches and wizards cast a containment field as soon as Harry's new spell connected with the creature. Moments later the Thingie exploded, and a dark cloud exited the brightly burning corpse attempting to flee. But then the Fiendfyre reached out with a demon shape which captured the soul and devoured it.

The scream from the destruction of the soul was even louder, more piercing, and many people winced, even some of the watching shades. In only a few seconds the former Dark Thingie was gone, nothing left but a burnt patch of ground, and, oddly, one smoking haunch which had separated from the body when it exploded and fell, apparently outside the Fiendfyre's reach, at the edge of the containment field. When they were sure the fire had died, the Aurors dropped their field, and they were all assaulted by the smell of cooking meat, slightly charred.

Harry turned, and said to his parents, "I'm glad I got to meet you both, even if it was only for a few minutes. I promise to live up to the standards you both set. I love you and I'll never forget you." He gave an involuntary slight sob at the end.

"We know," they said together, and Lily added, "We love you too, son. Good-bye, we'll see you in a couple hundred years. Keep your ladies happy."

"Bye, Mum, I will. Bye, Dad."

The figures were all fading now, and he watched sadly as his parents were among the last. All of them thanked him for destroying the menace that took their lives. The last thing he heard though, was his mother saying, "James, did he say he'd live up to both our standards? Oh, sweet Merlin, Minerva's going to hate us if he starts living down to yours…" She had a pleading look on her face which made Harry laugh, albeit sadly. He recovered quickly though, as he thought of the two, no three, young ladies waiting for him back at Hogwarts. His face lit up with a soft smile as he thought of them.

Turning back to the Aurors and other assorted witches and wizards gathered, he walked over to introduce himself to Madam Bones who said she was glad to meet him, but would like for him to give a formal statement the next day. After agreeing to do so, and being introduced to the other leaders in the DMLE, he walked over to where the mysterious haunch still lay, being carefully prodded by Mad-eye.

The old Auror looked up at Harry and with a wry grin, said, "Ye did it, laddie, an' I'm right proud o' ye."

"Thanks, Alastor, I'm just glad it's all finally over. Maybe one day I can be just Harry."

"Don't count on it, m'boy, but it is a good goal to have fer one such as ye are."

"Thanks, again." Harry then raised his voice, pointed at the charred haunch and asked those gathered around, "So, anyone up for some barbecued duck-billed goatypus? At the collective groan, he merely grinned cheekily and cast Fiendfyre, while Alastor cast a containment field. With that, the last of Voldemort turned to ash, then nothing, leaving only a scorched bit of earth.


Thanks to Tommy and Mike for the Brit-picking and beta jobs and for finding all the silly mistakes I make.

*CRS stands for Can't Remember Shi…Stuff. [grin] The Fiendfyre destroying the soul at the end, is in keeping with how it destroyed the soul fragment in Ravenclaw's diadem in DH. In case you didn't work it out, the creature's blood in the bladders on Harry's arms was from a duckbill platypus. Just seemed appropriate somehow, with this slightly smarter and smart-assed Harry, and I wanted to show a bit of the Marauder Remus.