78 Chapter 78: I... !
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Harry tore his wand from Lord Voldemort's wand and stabbed it into his gut, standing in the same fluid motion and bringing his foot crunching down onto each of Voldemort's kneecaps, one after the other.
Voldemort screamed—probably more from anger than pain—and brought his wand upwards.
Harry grinned as icy power trickled through his veins, and sent forth an icicle. It caught Voldemort through the hand and pinned him to the floor. He writhed, and Harry only just had time to shield himself as a wave of kinetic force exploded from him.
Even if he blocked the brunt of it, Harry was still hurled backwards. He flipped in mid-air, landing on his feet. "Now, Dumbledore!"
Dumbledore didn't need to be told twice. He had already pulled the wardstone from God-knows-where and now, he shattered it.
Harry felt the wards collapse around him and charged, two copies of him flickering to life. One was instantly dispersed as a blast of force caught it. And then Harry was on Voldemort, yelling, "Lemon drops!"
With that, the Portkey activated, and Harry's world became a blurring mass of colour. And then he was landing on the ground, in a few inches of snow—he was in Greenland, he knew.
Immediately, Harry felt wards burst into existence. He rolled from Voldemort, who screamed out a curse as he was struck by six simultaneous stunning spells. As though he was a dragon, they did not knock him out—only subdued him.
Upon noticing their tactics had failed, Marco and his men spat out a chorus of Crucios.
As six simultaneous waves of pain slammed into Voldemort—a few from people who were almost professional at the spell—he could do naught but scream.
Harry nodded gratefully at Marco before getting to work. He surrendered control of his body to Loki, and the god was instantly alert, delicately carving Norse runes in the air, undistracted by the screaming and writhing dark lord behind him, who was now being struck by stunning spells as well as Cruciatas Curses.
After half a minute of intense and exhausting concentration, the air twisted and warped, a portal slowly forming. Beyond laid a realm of snow and ice, even more forbidding than the Greenlandic winter wasteland in which they stood.
Harry felt Loki collapse—or do the mental equivalent of it, at least, the ritual and effort of possessing Harry taking its toll—and took control back.
The men released Voldemort from their respective spells and Harry yanked him up by his collar, and then, with a nod to Marco, dragged him through the portal.
He was greeted by a biting wind, colder than any he had ever felt on Earth; for a moment, it tinged his skin blue, and he moved to fix it, before reconsidering, his face breaking out into a grin.
This had not happened before—Loki had been able to ensure that, but now he was incapacitated—and so he would have some fun with it.
He lifted Voldemort over his head and flung him. He spun through the air ungracefully and then plunged into the knee-deep snow. Harry strode forward, a predator's grin on his face.
He grabbed the dark lord by his robes and pulled him up so that they were face to face.
Voldemort's red and serpentine eyes narrowed upon seeing Harry's ones of a matching colour, and his new blue complexion, runes across the surface.
Snow rose from the ground, slowly snaking around Voldemort and binding him to where he stood, locking his arms to his sides.
"What are you?" Voldemort hissed. Even in the face of defeat, he refused to show fear.
Harry cackled. "I, Lord Voldemort, am what you wish to be—what you will never be." He laughed again, and slammed a fist into Voldemort's gut, dropping him into the snow. He leaned down towards him, grinning.
"I am a god, an immortal. And you may be a god among men, but among gods, you are but a man."
He decided to ignore the fact that Voldemort would utterly destroy him in a fair fight.
"No, you—"
"Yes, Voldemort! I will live forever—and maintain my beauty whilst doing so, unlike you with your technique, with those crude little Horcruxes."
Now fear flashed across Voldemort's face. He drove it away a moment later. "You have not found them!"
It was true, but Harry enjoyed lying. "Haven't I, Voldemort?" he asked, eyebrow raised. "I bring you here, to Jotunheim, the realm of the Jotuns from Norse mythology who you didn't even know existed, and you doubt me?"
"I—"
"Hush, Tom, I'm monologuing." Harry waved his wand and a winter wind slammed Voldemort's jaw shut hard enough to break teeth.
"Anyway, as I was saying, I am a god—or perhaps something closer to a demon. And I am unstoppable. I defy impossible odds again and again, and have slaughtered trained wizards in combat since I was a child. The Killing Curse did not work on me, and I have defeated you once again." He smiled.
"But feel free to test if your Horcruxes are still intact—go on, kill yourself and escape."
Voldemort only glared.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Are you going to even ask what god I am? Which name I went by before I deigned to take mortal form?"
Voldemort continued to glare.
"Ah," Harry said, suddenly remembering Voldemort's teeth were shattered and his jaw was probably broken. "Never mind, then. I do, however, feel inclined to inform you that, in mythology, Loki's daughter is Hel, and she rules over the realm of the dead. Use that information as you like."
The ice that had wrapped itself around Voldemort continued to grow over him until he was completely entombed, red eyes glinting behind a glasslike layer. Harry nodded cordially and turned away.
The portal enveloped him and closed a moment later, leaving Voldemort alone to freeze. To die. And then to wander Jotunheim for all eternity as a bodiless wraith.
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