His Twenty-Eighth life

11. Unleashed Fury

Lord Voldemort knew the touch of Dementors.

They had sometimes fought for him, but never had they come near one of his fortresses without invitation. When he felt the approaching cold and knew it for the presence of dozens of Dementors, he stood up at once. His wand was aimed. His rage was lifting like wings. Next to him, the two snakes he had begun to infuse with his magic lifted at once to rearing positions.

It was nearly not enough.

The Dementor that opened the door was the largest one Lord Voldemort had ever seen, rippling with colors of grey and silver he knew were unnatural. He aimed his wand without speaking; he could not see what good speaking would do at the moment. The magic was already dancing through him, crackling and arching.

The fools of the Light thought that only a Patronus would drive a Dementor away. They did not know the mastery of soul magic. No one but Lord Voldemort had ventured so far into those waters.

Animam torque.

The magic traveled out from him in a cone of darkness so intense that no other would dare withstand it. Lord Voldemort opened his mouth in a silent laugh, as silent as the spell, as he watched his power seize the bits of the last soul that the creature had eaten and twist them, creating a whirlwind of pure enchantment that wrenched the Dementor apart.

Then he began to run. He knew that Harry must have summoned these Dementors for a reason. They would have no other reason to show up, and there was much magic still hidden in the depths of Harry's mind that he had not discovered yet. Summoning Dementors as a distraction could easily be among them.

He questioned himself, for the first time, as to why he had not simply plundered the child's mind for the secrets. And the answer came back to him, damning, but Lord Voldemort always saw himself clearly and understood the secrets of the soul as he did the secrets of soul magic.

He had wanted to take his time. He had wanted to draw them out little by little, and have the child succumb to him, so all that power would be drawn into his service, not forced.

That ends now.

He reached Remus Lupin's room first. He knew better than to seek in Harry's. He gestured with his wand hard enough that the door flew off the hinges and disintegrated into dust particles as it flew. When he paced inside, he was not entirely surprised to find the werewolf gone and the chains empty.

But it did not lessen his rage, which filled his head enough to make it seem light. He spun around and drew a wavy line in the air with his wand, while thinking the incantation for the Snake Messenger spell. Another thing that fools thought only a Patronus could do, and they were wrong.

They are always wrong about Lord Voldemort.

The air solidified into a snake of purple and black. Lord Voldemort spoke directly to it. "Severus Snape. Seek for the escaped prisoner Remus Lupin. The Potter child will be with him." He slashed his wand down, and the snake arrowed away as if all the air were water.

Someone screamed from down a side corridor. Lord Voldemort turned slowly. Of course some of the Death Eaters were Dark wizards and would have trouble casting a Patronus, but that did not mean they would die in front of them.

But when he paced down the corridor, it was to see a soul-drained body on the floor and another Dementor rippling towards him. Dolohov. The man had been a useful servant. Lord Voldemort again raised his wand and destroyed the Dementor that dared to stand against him.

Then he turned to face the rest of the building and began to trace a circle on the floor around him, creating a ritual space that would enable him to dismiss all the Dementors in the manor at once. His breathing was tight and controlled. His eyes were narrow and focused. He could only imagine how lesser beings would tremble at the moment in front of his ruby rage.