[Spoilers 113] Chapter 113.5: OMAKE SOLUTIONS
Edit: it was suggested that this should be a thread for Omake Solutions. If you care to, please contribute!
Disclaimer: These are obviously non-canon, and obviously parody. That said, have fun!
Chapter 113.5: Omake Solutions
1.
In the pale moonlight, three dozen wands were aimed at a small, shivering, eleven-year old- boy.
Harry gulped, and began talking to Voldemort in Parseltongue.
“Iss one secret that I could tell you, terrible, terrible ssecret. But musst be allowed to ssay two wordss in man-sspeak. Ssnake wordss cannot explain.”
Voldemort appeared to think for a moment.
He gestured lazily to his death eaters.
“The boy, between hissing, will momentarily say two words that you may understand. When he says these words, do not slay him. After these two words, you are again instructed to kill him for all speech other than hissing.”
Voldemort turned back to Harry.
“There iss deep, terrible ssecret, that once I tell you, you can never be ssafe from again.”
Voldemort hissed something like a laugh. “Doess not sscare me, child. Go on.”
Harry took a deep breath. “Thiss thing iss called-“
He broke into English. “Roko’s basil-“
BANG.
The eleven-year old boy fell lifeless to the ground, blood oozing from the hole where his face had been.
The death eaters, even Voldemort, turned to stare in the direction of the gunshot.
A man stood at the edge of the clearing, holding the smoking culprit.
Before Voldemort could speak, the man yelled to no one in particular- “YOU DO NOT THINK IN SUFFICIENT DETAIL ABOUT SUPERINTELLIGENCES CONSIDERING WHETHER OR NOT TO BLACKMAIL YOU!”
2.
Sixty seconds passed slowly.
But Harry couldn’t tell Voldemort anything more to use. He couldn’t.
Voldemort laughed his high, cold laugh as he floated in the air.
“Time is up for the boy. First we shall remove his limbs and cauterize them.”
He held his wand forth-
“Tonare!”
What.
“Ravum Calvaria!”
What.
“Lucis gladius!”
And in front of Voldemort’s wand appared a shining red streak, three feet long. He stared down at the eleven-year-old boy.
“It’s over, Harry! I have the high ground!”
3.
Sixty seconds passed slowly.
But Harry couldn’t think of a way out.
Voldemort laughed his high, cold laugh as he floated in the air.
“Time up for the boy, first we shall- what is that sound?”
A thrumming filled the surrounding woods.
Hoofbeats.
Thousands.
And then they were upon them.
The centaurs swept through the blaze of green light blasting in all directions from the death eaters, their sheer numbers overpowering the cloaked wizards. At least a hundred centaurs were throwing spears at Voldemort, who had encased himself in a shimmering red sphere.
A centaur swept Harry off his feet, and he found himself thundering through the forest with the most massive herd of centaurs he’d ever seen. He could see that the centaur next to him was carrying Hermione on its back.
In the distance, he heard Voldemort screaming in anger, but the screams quickly grew faint.
The centaur spoke.
“We were wrong about our divinations, Harry. We were deceived. We are sorry it took us this long to come to your aid-“
Harry gasped, elated. “I didn’t think there was any cavalry that would come!”
The centaur looked down at Harry with a scowl.
“I’ll forgive you once for your racism, as you are only a foal. Technically, we are infantry.”
4.
As the time counted down, Harry reached for anything, anything at all… and then he found the solution.
He didn’t want to kill them, but… if he had too, he knew how.
He concentrated on a microscopic collection of atoms at the very tip of his wand… maybe, just maybe…
The swirling atoms coalesced into a tiny, tiny machine.
Harry focused on what he’d tell it to do.
Make more of yourself, he said.
Then release chlorine gas into the mouths of Lord Voldemort and death eaters.
He focused all his concentration into making the nanobot real… just a moment more…
And make sure you stop replicating once-
“SPEAK!”
Voldemort screamed at Harry, startling him out of his concentration. The transfiguration stabilized.
Harry gaped at Voldemort.
“No!” He hissed. “You don’t know what you’ve done!”
Harry hung his head. It was over.
He knew that already, invisible to the eye, his accidental creation was growing. Without that final directive, they’d never stop. The whole world would become gray goo.
5.
Harry shook in fear and rage. This couldn’t be the end.
He turned to Voldemort to begin to speak, but before he could…
BANG.
Mr. White had been creeping towards Harry, but now he had leapt to the side, Voldemort’s smoking gun still trained on him.
“Don’t take another step, Mr. White,” Voldemort said.
Mr. White yelled back to him, “Fuck you, maniac! It’s your fuckin’ fault we’re in so much trouble.”
Voldemort turned back to Harry slowly. “What’s this guy’s problem?”
Mr. White kept yelling.
“What’s my problem? Yeah, I gotta problem. I gotta big fuckin’ problem with any trigger-happy madman who almost gets me shot!”
Voldemort looked bewildered. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Harry looked back and forth between the both of them.
“Guys, I’m only eleven, I’m not supposed to have even seen this movie…”
6.
Harry could do nothing. He thought of nothing. Sixty seconds crept by, but his mind failed him.
“Well, child, your time iss up. Dissappointing even at the end.”
As Voldemort raised his wand, a death eater gasped.
The Dark Lord turned his head to the cloaked figure, annoyed.
“What?”
“My lord, I dare not, I….”
“Tell me!”
“You cannot be immortal, my lord, you must know, I can see it…”
“What are you babbling about?”
The death eater raised a trembling hand to point.
“Look my lord…. a… a gray hair!”
Voldemort’s slitted eyes widened.
He raised a hand to the top of his head, and when it returned, he held between his fingers…
Beneath the moonlight glints a tiny fragment of silver, a fraction of a line...
Voldemort screamed in horrible, high-pitched agony.
His gaze rounded on the death-eater who had spoken up.
“My lord, no, please, I am sorry….”
Voldemort’s other hand still held the gun, now pointed towards the cloaked figure.
BANG.
(black robes, falling) ...blood spills out in litres
Turning his gaze from the death eater bleeding on the ground, Voldemort looked down at the grey hair in between his pale fingers.
and someone screams a word.
“FUCK!”
7.
Harry thought quickly, deciding to explain everything about what was going on between the two of them. He would tell Voldemort exactly what game they were playing.
“Because teacher thinkss I must not esscape, must not be free, iss…. iss… muggle puzzle…. iss thing in box… problem iss to not let it out of box…”
Voldemort’s eyes narrowed. He looked at Harry, confused. He answered without speaking in Parseltongue.
“A… box?”
“Teacher, isss metaphor…”
“What was in the box?”
“Iss not an actual-“
“What’s in the box, what’s in the fucking box?”
Fin.