Disclaimer: I don't own anything except a little of the plot.
This story is inspired by the stories Stargate: Galactic Imperium, Lightning Fervor, and Empress in the Shadows.
Here is the first chapter of the new and improved "A Goa'uld's Life". Let me know how you like it!
P.S. I shamelessly "borrowed" some text from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
A Goa'uld's Life
"Stay where you are, Harry!" bellowed Dumbledore.
Dumbledore's voice actually sounds frightened to my ears. I can't see why he would be afraid now though; the hall is quite empty, except for the sobbing of Bellatrix and the squawking coming from baby Fawkes.
And then my scar burst opens with pain beyond imagination, pain that makes the Cruciatus seem like a light tickle.
I am gone from the hall; I am someplace so dark that I cannot even see my hand when holding it in front of my eyes. The pain is gone, replaced with an all consuming numbness. Up ahead, two small red lights appear, heading toward me as if they are here to save me from the unending darkness that surrounds me. Closer and closer the lights come, and the darkness parts around them until a man is revealed. The man is tall with dark black hair, a frown on his face, and two glowing red eyes.
As I look up at the imposing man, I fear that I know who this man is.
"Voldemort." I say, after mustering up what little courage I have left.
"Not exactly." he says, and then he waves his hand, which causes the darkness to fly away as if it is afraid of him. "
"Get out of my head." I demand.
He looks at me, as if he is amused by the thought of doing as I say.
"Believe me when I say I would if I could, but unfortunately I have been locked in here so long that it's now impossible for me to leave and survive. Normally I would have just rejoined my original self when he came in here, but my very being has attached itself to your soul. Now that I have been "awakened" so to speak, there is only one way that I can ensure my continued survival."
"What are you bloody talking abo..." is all I manage to get out before he transforms into a sickly black fog and rushes into my body.
My eyes snap open with a jolt. Regaining my bearings, I strike my wand forward, which causes a spike of rock to shoot out of the floor towards Voldemort, who is grabbing hold of Bellatrix. Voldemort, who must still be disoriented from the failed possession, tries to dodge but is too slow. My spike plows through his left arm, ripping it away from the rest of his body. A shocked look crosses his face before he dissaparates away with Bellatrix in tow.
Flashes of light and the rumble of voices have me turning my head to see dozens of camera flashes and a hall full of ministry workers.
"He was there!" shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, who was pointing at a pile of rubble on the other side of the hall, where Bellatrix had lain trapped only moments before. "I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and disapparated."
"I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!" gibbered Fudge, who was wearing pajamas under his pinstriped cloak and was gasping as though he had just run miles. "Merlin's beard - here - here! - in the Ministry of Magic! - great heavens above - it doesn't seem possible - my word - how can this be -?"
"If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius," said Dumbledore while walking forwards so that the newcomers realized he was there for the first time. "You will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparation Jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them."
"Dumbledore!" gasped Fudge, beside himself with amazement. "You-here-I-I"
He looked wildly around at the Aurors he had brought with him and it could not have been clearer that he was in half a mind to cry, "Seize him!"
"Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men - and win, again!" said Dumbledore in a thunderous voice. "But a few minutes ago you saw proof, with your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for a year. Lord Voldemort has returned, you have been chasing the wrong man for twelve months, and it is time - you listened to sense!"
"I - don't – well" blustered Fudge, looking around as though hoping somebody was going to tell him what to do. When nobody did, he said, "Very well - Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see… Dumbledore, you - you will need to tell me exactly - the Fountain of Magical Brethren - what happened?" he added in a kind of whimper, staring around at the floor, where the remains of the statues of the witch, wizard and centaur now lay scattered.
"We can discuss that after I have sent Harry back to Hogwarts," said Dumbledore.
"Harry - Harry Potter?"
Fudge wheeled around and stared at me, I think he was the only person in the hall to not notice me when I ripped Voldemort's arm from his body.
"He - here?" said Fudge, still goggling at me. "Why - what's all this about?"
"I shall explain everything," repeated Dumbledore, "when Harry is back at school."
Dumbledore walked away from the pool to the place where the golden wizard's head lay on the floor. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Portus." The head glowed blue and trembled noisily against the wooden floor for a few seconds, then became still once more.
"Now see here, Dumbledore!" said Fudge, as Dumbledore picked up the head and walked back to me carrying it. "You haven't got authorization for that Portkey! You can't do things like that right in front of the Minister for Magic, you – you"
His voice faltered as Dumbledore surveyed him magisterially over his half-moon spectacles.
"You will give the order to remove Dolores Umbridge from Hogwarts," said Dumbledore. "You will tell your Aurors to stop searching for my Care of Magical Creatures teacher so that he can return to work. I will give you…" Dumbledore pulled a watch with twelve hands from his pocket and surveyed it… "half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what has happened here. After that, I shall need to return to my school. If you need more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters addressed to the Headmaster will find me."
Fudge goggled worse than ever; his mouth was open and his round face grew pinker under his rumpled grey hair.
"I - you"
Dumbledore turned his back on him.
"Take this Portkey, Harry."
He held out the golden head of the statue and I looked him straight in the eye as I grasped it. Something must have spooked him because he lets out a small gasp and actually takes a step backwards.
"I shall see you in half an hour," said Dumbledore quietly, after regaining his composure "One… two… three…"
I felt the familiar sensation of a hook being jerked behind my navel. The polished wooden floor was gone from beneath my feet; the Atrium, Fudge and Dumbledore had all disappeared and I went flying forwards in a whirlwind of color and sound.
My feet hit solid ground; my knees buckled a little and the golden wizard's head fell with a resounding dunk to the floor. I look around and see that I have arrived in Dumbledore's office.
A picture behind me gave a particularly loud grunting snore, and a cool voice said, "Ah…Harry Potter…"
Phineas Nigellus gave a long yawn, stretching his arms as he surveyed me out of shrewd, narrow eyes.
"And what brings you here in the early hours of the morning?" said Phineas eventually "This office is supposed to be barred to all but the rightful Headmaster. Or has Dumbledore sent you here? Oh, don't tell me…" He gave another shuddering yawn. "Another message for my worthless great-great-grandson?"
"Sirius is dead." I say.
That shut him up awfully quick, I muse to myself. I shouldn't be so unaffected by Sirius' death as I am, but with the fusion with the piece of Voldemort that was trapped in my scar, I feel only a sliver of sadness for the death of my Godfather.
I now know that my scar was actually one of Voldemort's Horcruxes, although this one was made unintentionally. A Horcrux is a powerful object in which a Dark wizard or witch has hidden a fragment of his or her soul for the purpose of attaining immortality. Creating one Horcrux gives one the ability to resurrect oneself if the body is destroyed; the more Horcuxes one creates, the closer one is to true immortality. However like most things involved with dark magic there is a price, along with unimaginable pain, creating a Horcrux causes a loss in ones sanity. That is something Tom Riddle didn't know before he made his first Horcrux, but by then it was too late for him to even care about the losses in sanity.
The empty fireplace burst into emerald green flame, causing me to turn my head toward the man spinning inside the grate. As Dumbledore's tall form unfolded itself from the fire, the wizards and witches on the surrounding walls jerked awake, many of them giving cries of welcome.
"Thank you," said Dumbledore softly.
He did not look at me at first, but walked over to the perch beside the door and withdrew, from an inside pocket of his robes, the tiny, ugly, featherless Fawkes, whom he placed gently on the tray of soft ashes beneath the golden post where the full-grown Fawkes usually stood.
I watch Dumbledore turn away from Fawkes and turn toward me with his wand drawn, yet not raised. To an untrained eye it would appear as if Dumbledore couldn't be more relaxed, but I can tell that he is prepared to strike at a moment's notice.
"Who am I speaking to, Harry Potter or Tom Riddle?" he asks me with eyes as cold as ice.
That's actually a good question, one I'm not sure I am able to answer.
"A little of both I suppose, but let's just call me Harry to keep things simple." I say as I wipe some imaginary dust from my shoulder. I notice he is still poised to fight so I slowly pull out my wand a raise it above my head and say "I swear on my life and magic that I am more Harry Potter than Tom Riddle and that I have no desire to be a senseless murderer like him." A small wisp of white light leaks out of my wand and wraps itself around my wrist before vanishing, signifying that the oath has taken hold. "So how did you know?" I ask after Dumbledore finally relaxes and takes his seat at his desk.
"You mean besides your success in separating Voldemort's body and his arm?"
"I was aiming for his throat, and that one piece of advanced magic could easily be brushed off as something I learned while teaching the DA."
Dumbledore waves his wand and conjures a small mirror, which he then slides across his desk to me. I pick up the mirror and looking back at me is, instead of my two green eyes, one green eye and one red.
"Well that was unexpected." I say with a frown on my face, although I have to admit that it looks kind of cool.
We sit in silence after that for what seemed like hours, although it was only a couple minutes. It seems like neither one of us really knows where to start.
"So, what's the other half of that damned prophecy?" I ask with a grin on my face.
He grimaces, as if even thinking of the prophecy causes him actual pain.
"So, you know everything that Voldemort does?" he cautiously asks me.
"Up to that night I do."
Dumbledore got to his feet and walked past me to the black cabinet that stood beside Fawkes's perch. He bent down, slid back a catch and took from inside it the shallow stone basin, carved with runes around the edges, in which, not long ago, I had seen my father tormenting Snape. Dumbledore walked back to the desk, placed the Pensieve upon it, and raised his wand to his own temple. From it, he withdrew silvery, gossamer-fine strands of thought clinging to the wand and deposited them into the basin. He sat back down behind his desk and watched his thoughts swirl and drift inside the Pensieve for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he raised his wand and prodded the silvery substance with its tip.
A figure rose out of it, draped in shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size behind her glasses, and she revolved slowly; her feet in the basin. But when Sibyll Trelawney spoke, it was not in her usual ethereal, mystic voice, but in the harsh, hoarse tones Harry had heard her use once before:
"The one with the power to vanquish the - Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"
The slowly revolving Professor Trelawney sank back into the silver mass below and vanished.
"Well that was less mind boggling than I had imagined. Although I wouldn't mind knowing what this "power the Dark Lord knows not" is..."
"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries," interrupted Dumbledore, "that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. Love, Harry; it's you ability to love that grants you a power Voldemort can't even begin to understand."
"While your right when you say that love is a powerful and that Voldemort has no knowledge concerning it, I seriously doubt that is the "power the Dark Lord knows not". But I'm not going to claim to be all-knowing, so let's assume this power will reveal itself when the time is right."
Dumbledore sighs as if my not believing I have some power of "love" is a great burden.
"Tell me Sir, so you know what a Horcrux is?" I ask after a few moments of silence.
"A Horcrux..." he starts with a look of shock on his face. " I have suspected for while now, but to think that he actually went through with it and made one."
"Seven" I simply state.
"Oh my goodness, how low have you actually sunken Tom?" he ask with a slightly glazed look toward the far wall. Within seconds he snaps back to focus and fixes me with an intense stare. "Do you know where and what they are, Harry?"
"His diary I destroyed in my second year, the Gaunt Family Ring, a locket once belonging to Salazar Slytherin, a goblet once belonging to Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem, his familiar Nagini, and me, although the last one was unintentional and has been absorbed by my own soul. And yes, I know where they are all located."
"Good, we will go out on Friday and hunt these abominations down. Unfortunately I will be unavailable before then; the political uproar that's bound to happen is going to have me tied up for a few days."
Dumbledore quickly grows somber yet again.
"Harry, about Sirius-."
I hold up my hand to stop Dumbledore and then I rub my eyes in frustration.
"I know, Sir, you don't have to say anything, just please let me deal with this myself." I hope I manage to convince him to drop the subject, I would rather he not find out about my actual lack of emotion on the subject.
I can tell Dumbledore wants to say more but then decides to let it go.
"Very well, we can continue our discussion after you have a couple days rest; you surely deserve it after what you went through."
I nod at him and, recognizing a dismissal when I hear one, head for the door. As I place my hand on the knob Dumbledore speaks up once again.
"Oh Harry, you will be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night's events. They should be as good as new within a day or two."
I give him a small smile and reply "Thank you, Sir." and I step out of his office.
As I walk through the castle's halls my mind is working in overdrive. Plans are being thought up and hundreds of ideas are floating around my head. My first priority will be doing nine rituals to close the gap, so to speak, between Voldemort's power and my own.
While many people have assumed that Voldemort has done hundreds of rituals for much of his power, I know that in actuality he has only done seventeen, not counting the rituals he did when creating his Horcruxes. Out of those seventeen, most of his power comes from nine exceptionally powerful rituals.
Of those nine one changes your age to twenty five and permanently freezes it at that age, one causes your body to be in perfect, naturally possible, health and fitness, and another will cause you to no longer require sleep and cause your strength, speed, reflexes, and durability to increase exponentially. One ritual allows you to see in the dark and to be able to see through many charms and spells. One gives an unnatural affinity for wandless magic. Another gives you the healing and regenerative powers of a vampire. One ritual actually causes an approximate increase in your magical core between forty and sixty percent. Another ritual gives you an instinctual amount of control over your own magic, something that normally takes decades to develop naturally. And the last and final ritual is the most powerful of them all.
The last ritual is one Voldemort found that was created by Merlin himself. The scrolls Voldemort found containing the ritual said that its purpose was to "help the children of the Alterans realize their true potential". While it wasn't said what the ritual actually did or who the Alterans were, Voldemort decided to go through with the ritual, knowing that he had his Horcruxes in case something went wrong. The effects of the ritual were awe inspiring, not for the boost in magical power it gave, which was actually about a ten percent boost, but for the effect it had on the mind. This ritual caused Voldemort's mind to go from using approximately sixteen percent to anywhere between seventy to ninety percent.
In my wanderings though the castle I have made my way to the entrance of the Room of Requirement. After walking back and forth three times, with what I require firmly in my mind, a door appears that I quickly walk inside of. Inside of the room is large and empty except for the nine ritual circles, connected in ways to allow the use of them all at one time, already inscribed in the floor.
The Room of Requirement is truly an awe inspiring piece of magic, to create something as complicated as this room is something even I, with all of Voldemort's knowledge, currently have no hope of recreating. Voldemort had no clue what this place was truly capable of when he found it in his days at Hogwarts.
As I make my way across the floor, after stripping off my clothes and anything else on my person, to the center of the ritual circles. I can't help but admire the many runes inscribed below my feet. The Ancient Runes are actually a language of their own that many magicals use to help direct their magic, because magic is in all actuality controlled by intent, the words and wand movements are just used to help guide your mind on what it's wanting. In wizarding legend, Ancient Runes were said to be the language of Merlin and the people of the Lost City, Atlantis. While the spoken form has been lost over the centuries, the written form has managed to survive and is still used today.
Now I stand in the center of the ritual circles preparing myself for what is to come. After a large deep breath, I push my magic out through the bottom of my feet and into the ritual circles. One by one every rune inscribed lights up in a blinding white light. My magic has fused with the ritual circles and no more conscious effort is required on my part, my magic and my subconscious mind will now finish guiding the ritual.
I'm not sure how long I have been standing here in this same spot, but a tingling has started to form in my chest and is slowly working its way through the rest of my body. This tingling continues for what could be minutes or hours with no change. It's rather odd, I expected there to be at least a little pain by now...
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." I scream in a never ending torment. It feels as if the inside of my body has been set on fire.
Somewhere in my mind I realize that I have fallen to the ground and my screams of pain have yet to stop. I can feel my consciousness starting to slip away and the last thing I can think is that maybe it wasn't the greatest idea to do all nine rituals at once.
My eyes slowly flutter to find a small brown creature crying his heart out on my leg.
"Dobby, what are you doing?" I ask the little house elf.
At the sound of my voice Dobby jumps up from my leg only to tackle me around the neck.
Awkwardly, I begin to slowly pat the elf's back.
"Umm is everything alright Dobby?" I cautiously ask.
My words just cause him to start crying even harder and squeezing me tighter.
"The great Harry Potter is alive; when Dobby could not wake the sleeping Harry Potter he feared the worst." Dobby manages to blubber out only to go back to crying.
"I didn't mean to worry you Dobby; I was just very tired last night." I say trying to get him unwrapped from my neck. "Do you think you could get off me Dobby? I need to get dressed."
"Of course Harry Potter Sir." He says after letting go and drying up his tears, although he seems to be unable to stop his sniffling.
"Dobby, could you please get me a fresh set of clothes before you go back to work?"
He gives an over energetic nod of his head and pops away. I suppose that's one way to get rid of annoying house elves, just give them a job to do.
I make my way over to the mirror, that the Room has graciously provided me, and check out the changes to my person. The person staring back at me is tall, easily a good six foot. My body is fit as well; I am able to flex muscles that, before my fusion with the Horcrux, I didn't even know existed.
As I twist around, the room causes a wooden dummy to appear across the room. Slowly I raise my open hand toward the dummy and the crush my hand into a fist, which causes the dummy to blast apart in hundreds of pieces. With my now perfect eye sight I watch each piece fly through the air and, with my now incredible brain power, I am able to tell each piece's speed, size, shape, mass, angle of flight, where it will land on the ground, and almost everything else you would want to know about it.
I conjure a knife in my and without a second's hesitation swipe it across my forearm. I grin when the knife doesn't even leave a scratch. After casting a sharpening spell on the knife, I raise it above my head and slam it through my hand, which manages to go all the way through. Slowly I pull the knife out of my hand and watch as the bones, veins, and skin rapidly heals over until not even a scar is left.
I put on the clothes and robe that Dobby "popped" into the room, and then, after summoning my wand to my hand, I light the clothes, that I had been wearing the day before, on fire.
"Tempus" I silently cast.
Out of my wand a white mist slowly forms 6:45 AM.
With still fifteen minutes until breakfast is served in the great hall I decide now is as good a time as any to begin destroying Voldemort's Horcruxes.
I step outside of the Room of Requirement, and after walking back and forth in front of it, I once again enter the room. This time the room, instead of being practically empty, is filled to the brim with junk lost by students for generations. With little to no hurry, I slowly make my way through the room, even stopping to pocket a copy of the book Darkness: Life in the Shadows, which is a rare dark arts book from the Sixteenth Century.
I stare up at Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem, which is sitting innocently on top of a large wooden cabinet. I reach up and gently grasp it before laying it on the floor. Raising my wand, I point it toward the Diadem and say "Animus Intereo". A sickly green light, not unlike the Killing Curse, shoots from my wand and strikes the Horcrux. For a moment it seems as if nothing is going to happen, but then a black mist rises up and gives one final scream before it is wiped from existence.
I snatch up the diadem and stride out of the Room of Requirement. It is still early enough that most students have yet to awake, so I manage to get to the gargoyle in front of Dumbledore's office without any interruptions. Before I can send a Patronus up to Dumbledore asking he let me in, the gargoyle hops out of the way revealing the staircase to me.
"Come in Harry." Dumbledore says when I get up the stairs and am standing outside his door.
I stride in and quickly take a seat in front of his desk. I watched Dumbledore as he took in my new appearance; he sighs but doesn't voice his thoughts on it. He probably knows he doesn't have a right to criticize my use of rituals, I'm pretty sure he dabbled with them in his youth as well.
"How can I help you, Harry?"
Instead of giving him a reply a reach inside of my robe and pull out the diadem, which I then toss onto his desk. Dumbledore's eyes widen and he cautiously leans forward.
"Is this what I think it is?"
"If you think it's Ravenclaw's Diadem and what used to be one of Voldemort's Horcruxes, then yes. I thought it would be good to have it on display here after Voldemort is gone for good."
He is fiddling with it now and an excited gleam has appeared in his eyes. After he casts dozens of spells on it he slowly lifts it up and places it on his head. A disappointed look appears on his face when nothing happens.
"I suppose whatever enchantments were originally on here have waned over the centuries." he says sadly.
"Lower your Occulemency Shields, Sir." I say with a small grin.
"This is amazing; the diadem provides the wearer with the benefits of Occulemency, without actually knowing the art."
"Yes Sir, it's also a good way to cure a hangover."
"Ah, if only I had this in my youth, it would have saved me many mornings from taking that rather unpleasant Hangover Potion."
"Professor, there are some things I need to take care of in Diagon Alley and I was hoping to get your permission to leave the school for the day."
He stares at me and I can't help but feel as if he is reading my mind, even though I know he isn't with my Occulemency Shields.
"Very well, Harry, you may use my fireplace."
"Thank you, Sir." I say as I make my way over to the fireplace. I grab a handful of Floo Powder, which I then toss into the flames with a spoken "Diagon Alley". I step into the green flames and I'm whisked away through the Floo Network.
Authors Note: So what do you guys think? Is it a better start than the original version?