Harry Potter and the Prancing of Ponies

by The Guy Who Writes

Chapter 71: Are You Prepared?

As Harry's Patronus grew larger and larger, he could feel sparks of sapient life enter the radius, touched by his happy thought, and that only spurred him on. It must have been the size of Equestria when he felt it: one of those many, many sparks winking out. It was so sudden, so unexpected, surprising, and saddening, that his own Patronus winked out too.

He had, initially, cast it as a human. He had, halfway through, switched to pony form – mostly (i.e. entirely) because it made the spell easier and partly (i.e. as a rationalization) because it felt appropriate to at least be in his 'princely' form while introducing himself to Equestria as its newest prince. He had been planning to switch back to human before fully dispelling his charm, or at the same moment of dispelling, before the eyes of Draco and Dad and Headmistress McGonagall and Lucius Malfoy had time to adjust and see him.

So much for that.

"I think somepony just died," he said to the stunned faces, which may or may not be able to see him at the moment. He became human once more, not caring if anybody managed to see his pony form (though they probably hadn't if their blinking was anything to go by) and pointed a finger. "Exactly where I'm pointing. Probably on the border of Equestria."

"One moment," said the Defense Professor, still wearing the shape of Prince Excelsior. He disappeared in a crack of what Harry recognized to be phoenix fire. Not fifteen seconds later, "Worry not," said Prince Excelsior after flaming back into existence. "It was a controlled setting, and she had a Horcrux. Automatic resurrection procedures are already being carried out."

Professor McGonagall gasped. "A Horcrux?!"

Harry's own voice had asked the same thing, at the same time, but in a tone of relieved curiosity instead of surprised horror.

The thestral met the headmistress's gaze. "Not the kind Voldemort invented. And not the kind which provided a false pretense of immortality, the kind that existed prior to Voldemort, which Dumbledore incorrectly assumed to tear off and store a fragment of soul, and which required murder. Rest assured, headmistress, present equinoid company would have objected if that were true of the modern Horcrux spell, nor would they have allowed mass implementation of a ritual requiring the sacrifice of sapient creatures."

"Mass-implementation?" Harry inquired in further curiosity.

"Almost anypony who wants one may have a Horcrux," the thestral alicorn stated. "As may anybody in this room, should you wish it."

The mouth of the Headmistress flapped uselessly.

"The rest of Equestria," Luna interjected, "calls them 'soul safety stones' or 'anchors'. My fool of a prince is simply sentimental for the 'dark' name, the one that combines 'horror' and 'crux' in your language. Or in this case he was being deliberately inflammatory?" Her voice rose at the end, as if uncertain and asking for confirmation.

The dark thestral shook his head. "In this case I simply do not wish to waste time. Present company should know of Voldemort's legacy sooner rather than later."

"Professor," said the headmistress. She now seemed less like she was ready to institute the fifth degree of Transfiguration caution, and instead merely seemed intensely inquisitive, perhaps at the first degree of caution. "I think it best if you explain yourself. Now."

"I shall," said the pony. "Lord Voldemort's greatest creation, unbeknownst to anybody in the world save himself, was an invented sacrificial ritual that granted true immortality in exchange for human sacrifice – or more specifically, the sacrifice of magical sapient creatures. Man, goblin, or centaur, it made no difference, so long as they had a mind, and so long as they had magic. The original horcrux spell did not do this. It imprinted a ghost of the caster's current state of mind into a device, a ghost which could go on to possess others. But there was no link between that ghost and the caster after the fact, and Merlin's Interdict did not consider such ghosts alive, and so neither the caster nor his lore would live on after death, only a greatly weakened copy of his past self. Unsatisfied with that facsimile of eternity, Tom Riddle modified and improved upon it. Thus did Tom Riddle create hundreds of true Horcruxes for himself."

"Hundreds?!" asked a startled, unexpected voice.

"Yes, Autumn. Hundreds." The thestral looked back to McGonagall. "And this is on top of everything you know about, for he never used that ritual when anybody else might have seen it. But Tom Riddle also saved the world from Nuclear Armageddon because he did not want the world to be destroyed. He arranged for the Stone of Permanence to be stolen, then later studied and reproduced, for he did not want there to only be a single, easily-stolen stone, and this allowed for spare stones to be made. He spent years modifying his own ritual on a conceptual level – perhaps one of the most dangerous ventures known to wizardkind – to comply with Equestrian morals. That has earned him a place here, if not Magical Britain. Tom Riddle was horribly evil, but not quite in the way he was pretending in his tenure as the Dark Lord. The persona of Lord Voldemort was, in the first place, deliberately invented as a joke."

"It might be best to get to the point," Luna suggested, perhaps due to the Headmistress's expression.

"So be it," said the Defense Professor. "Dumbledore used prophetic knowledge to arrange for Lord Voldemort to make Harry Potter into a good Tom Riddle. Voldemort, too, tried to cleverly exploit Trelawney's prophecy to his own ends by making Harry Potter into a copy of Tom Riddle." He paused a moment to let that sink in. "But Dumbledore didn't realize that's what happened until after the fact, since prophecies are such vague things. I'm told that when he did realize it, he burst into full-blown laughter in the Snape confrontation."

"It's when I asked if needs to take his meds, if that helps you remember, headmistress."

Again, her mouth flapped uselessly.

"Harry Potter then followed in both of his wise old wizards' footsteps, exploiting Trelawney's prophecy, hopefully for the last time, in order to arrange for me to render Lord Voldemort..."

"Redeemed?" suggested Autumn.

"Not quite. I would like to think that term applies to Tom Riddle, but it is loaded and vague. The term that now most accurately applies to Voldemort is 'all but a remnant'. Voldemort destroyed all but a remnant of Harry Potter, remaking the baby in his own darkly intelligent image, with the remnant of light from his parents remaining. And then Harry Potter returned the favour, remaking Voldemort in a light image and allowing those two different spirits to reside in the same world. This is why Snape froze multiple times in the office, if you were curious. He realized this implication."

"Professor..." said Headmistress McGonagall. "I... I still do not understand in the slightest. Even if Voldemort was just a mask, I cannot imagine Tom Riddle being anything other than a monster."

"I could not have imagined it either," said the thestral. "Even with full context, it is hardly believable. But so is the founding of Hogwarts, so is the disappearance of Atlantis, and so are many accomplishments of Merlin. Some events of history can only be believed by seeing them or their legacy with your own eyes. We see them as brute facts of the world now. But imagine trying to imagine the founding of Hogwarts before it was actually done. Or the Interdict of Merlin. If you were speaking to wizards of those eras, and if you had said such things might be done some day in the near future, you would have been viewed as a hopeless optimist at best, or an insane idiot at worst. Do you disagree with that historical observation, Headmistress McGonagall? You may take some time to think about it."

"I… well, I understand the argument," said the Headmistress. "But I simply cannot imagine- well, I suppose neither could the wizards of history imagine… but even still, it is simply impossible to imagine that applies to Tom Riddle, professor. Even if, as you say, it looks like he's redeemed, how could you ever be certain of such a thing by his actions alone? Even if he acts for the good of the world, it could just as easily be for a horrible motive."

He shrugged. "Not if he takes a precisely-worded Unbreakable Vow. But to answer your question of certainty, headmistress, the short version, the end result, is that Tom Riddle can now cast the true Patronus Charm, fully corporeal. Thirty-four years ago, learning it- or rather, learning how to be a good enough person to cast it- became his inexorable goal, his single greatest ambition, more difficult by far than anything that had come before. The combined machinations of Dumbledore, the Boy-Who-Lived, myself, prophecy, Time itself, and more likely than not, the wish-granting Mirror of the Atlanteans, all joined forces to contribute to this goal. So many things went just exactly right that even Dumbledore, who thinks in stories and prophecy, did not believe it without the words coming from a Patronus. Riddle's Patronus. After extensive questioning."

"And even then he was highly skeptical," added Princess Luna. "And was I a mere footnote," she asked in faux offense, "or is there a reason you left me out of your list of machinators?"

"I would prefer not to call you a machinator." The Defense Professor looked to his audience. "Princess Luna was Tom Riddle's primary therapist, mental healer, and greatest moral influence throughout those thirty-four years. She dedicated significantly more hours and effort to the task than anyone else."

"Therapist?" asked Lucius Malfoy, raising an eyebrow.

Prince Excelsior gave a half-nod of acknowledgement. "There were other factors and many other beings involved, but she was the greatest individual influence. When I say multiple parties manipulated the exactly correct circumstances for Tom Riddle to become a better person, what that means in practice is that everyone else dumped the majority of the actual work load upon her back."

"Sorry about that," said Harry Potter, sounding genuinely apologetic towards the princess.

"There is little reason for you to apologize," said Princess Luna. "Your efforts were truly exceptional, young prince. The only reason it can be said that I put more hours to the task than you did is because you were only here for a year. And I am glad you did not stay a moment longer, now that I know the whole story." She faced the thestral. "Also, please do not sell yourself short. The majority of the work load was upon your back. You dedicated more hours to the task than any of us."

He gave a light smile and shrug.

"Excuse me," said Headmistress McGonagall. "But I must protest. Of all the wizards in the world, Voldemort in particular was the most irredeemable. Even if he can cast a Patronus, nothing he can do will ever make up for the evils he has done."

"Indeed," said Prince Excelsior easily. "I expect that will be all of Magical Britain's opinion on the matter. Certainly those he hurt will never forgive him. He understands this, which is why Tom Riddle will be living most of his life in Equestria, especially if the truth is revealed to the wider public. Naturally, this information will stay between us for now, the same as the Death Eaters I delivered to Equestria not long ago. I do not say that Tom Riddle is or ever will be redeemed in the eyes of Magical Britain or anybody he hurt, nor do I say he should be redeemed in their eyes. But I do say that he is here to stay. Tom Riddle is the leading magical expert on all things related to death and how to avoid it. He has saved the world twice over, and he intends to save it a few times more, however often it is needed – a task which can be utterly thankless, and not at all pleasant. That is the true punishment he faces for the crimes of Voldemort, on top of the ten years of solitary confinement he served after his first death, and the subsequent thirty-five years of open confinement in Equestria. I do not ask you to forgive him, Headmistress, or even to believe in his redemption. I do not ask any positive action from you at all, and you are contracted to negative action unless permitted otherwise. I only ask that you try to understand."

Headmistress McGonagall took many deep breaths. "What, precisely, would you like to be understood, professor? That a monster walks free merely because he is useful to the world?"

The pony shook his head. "Many Death Eaters are not especially useful to the world – well, not yet, and perhaps not ever – and they all walk freely even as we speak. Ponies do not believe in doing any more harm or imprisonment than strictly necessary to prevent future violations of life and property. For the Death Eaters, that means Unbreakable Vows – the harshest of all their punishments save outright ostracism from their society, which is reserved for those who refuse the Vows. Tom Riddle's case was more complicated, but the results speak for themselves. And also keep in mind that his physical, magical, political, and mental prowesses are stronger than they've ever been. What I am asking you to understand is that, for better or worse, Tom Riddle is beyond Magical Britain's jurisdiction. He has not and will not be punished in traditionally barbaric wizarding ways, just as his Death Eaters are no longer being so punished. That is all."

When it became clear that the headmistress would, at the very least, need time to think about all of that, the Defense Professor suggested they continue the tour.

Next stop: Circus. Because a non-interactive tour is just too boring.

---

"What is this place?" asked Headmistress McGonagall, eyes wide at the vast canopy surrounding her.

"I'm so glad you asked," said the second Draconequus she'd seen that day, startling the living daylights out of her. He was white spotted with rainbow dots, as was the wide canopy around them. "You are entering a sovereign city, zen-state of chaos, free from the suffocating clutches of societal law! I am Circus, head ringleader, the world's one and only Nationequus, where anarchy rules and rules drool." He pointed to a sign of rules that was, currently, drooling hungrily, with sharp teeth that looked like they might devour any who came too close. "Feel free to trespass through my trachea whenever you want and without permission, strange creatures I've never seen before. There is no such thing as 'illegal' immigration. This is a safe space where everyone everywhere is welcomed into my rolling stomach with a wide-open, gaping clawed tentacle maw so that they can be brutally beaten in battle after battle. But if you give me a stomach-ache, or I give you a headache, I reserve the right to throw you up at my convenience, so try not to do that. Tah tah!"

And then it was gone.

The tent was abuzz with excited gossip about the magical phenomenon that had just happened. Circus had caught the entire thing in memory, allowing circus-goers to replay the scene of a glowing white pony Patronus growing out of Canterlot Castle and encompassing the entire nation.

But that wasn't the only thing they were excited about. At the end of the day, it's not a subject that holds conversation. You can only go "Did you see it too?" and "What do you think the new Prince is like?" so many times.

"Who do you think will win the next Death Battle?", on the other hand, that is a topic that sticks.

Not that everyequus even knew to have that conversation, since information on Death Battles is strictly regulated. Ponies are allowed to know of them, but unless they are an Occlumens, or they have signed up themselves and signed a contract of non-disclosure, they aren't allowed to know many of the details.

Scenes of past Death Battles are available only to those who participated in them, because Celestia, Luna, Twilight Sparkle, Princess Cadence, Thorax, and even Prince Excelsior agreed that they should not be used for entertainment, only for self-improvement. After the initial live footage, which any Occlumens can watch, only carefully curated scenes may exist, those without gore or death. A few awesome scenes from past Death Battles have escaped into the general public, but they are all what a muggle would call PG 13, and could just as easily have happened in normal battles if not for the intensity and deadliness of some of the spells on display.

Naturally, only Horcruxed ponies who expressly consent to it may participate in Death Battles – making it fairly niche – but otherwise it is one of the least restrictive Circus events. The fewest rules exist and the fewest spells are forbidden.

There are also various iterations of Death Battles, just like there are various iterations on stun-matches. And the goal of Death Battles is not necessarily to kill everypony else. In a team Death Battle, one team can win if the entire enemy team is merely stunned. In a free-for-all, you can win if everypony else is stunned. In some modes, there are other objectives, like territory control. But stunned ponies do not disappear from the battlefield. Even dead bodies don't disappear. So if you wish to play nice, you run the risk of innervated opponents. (Mutilation of unconscious bodies and/or corpses is one of the few regulations, however.)

That weekend's visitors to Equus would not be participating in the Death Battles. But they would be learning about them, if they didn't know already, and they would be watching.

After the children played two full stunmatches themselves, of course. Doing it the other way around would frighten Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Michael Verres-Evans far too much.

The children did not play in the same games as each other. There are so many games going on at one time that it's rare for coincidences like that to happen naturally, unless you play a lot or deliberately synchronize when you queue. Each child played two games, the first in human form, the second in pony form (if they had one).

Headmistress McGonagall, Michael Verres-Evans, and Lucius Malfoy, after being familiarized with the viewing system in the first game, were instructed to attempt to identify Hermione, Harry, and Autumn, despite being in their pony forms.

Headmistress McGonagall had the easiest time of it, having seen Hermione's pony form earlier that day. All she really needed to do was look for the colour brown amongst the profiles.

Michaels Verres-Evans had some difficulty, but eventually managed to solve the problem by using the function of sorting the profiles of the Equestrians in the match by 'date joined'. He eliminated all of the profiles that joined over a year ago, was left with ten profiles to choose from, and after eliminating the females and the non-ponies, narrowed it down further to five. From there, he was left with choosing between 'Big Bang' and 'Mithril'. The name would have been a dead giveaway, but Big Bang was far too old at age 15, so that left Mithril at age 13. He knew that was his son's true age, despite having just celebrated his 12^th birthday over the Summer.

It still upset him that he had missed a whole year of his son's life. It would have upset him even more if not for the conversation he'd had with his wife in April, back when he thought he would be missing the rest of his son's life period. His son had taken his concerns seriously, apologized profusely, and when that hadn't worked and Michael remained depressed about the whole thing, Harry had joked that he would bring him and Mum along on his next magical adventure to an alternate universe frozen out of Time if they truly insisted on being there for him, but Michael doesn't get to complain about how many tentacles he has in his eldritch abomination form.

Lucius Malfoy, strangely enough, had little trouble identifying Ms. Query. He eliminated the males from his search, then quickly noticed an anomaly, in that one "Madam Chaos" wore an alicorn enchantment on her mane and had her age in quotation marks – which by now he had realized were the result of extensive Time Turner usage, or other circumstances that result in an age that differs from what a person's date of birth might suggest, as was the case on Mr. Potter's and Ms. Granger's profiles. He confirmed his guess by listening to her voice, watched her fight for a few minutes, then requested that he watch the rest of his own son's second battle.

"So, Dad," said Harry Potter when he returned to the adult contingent of humans – the last of everyone to do so. "Figure it out?"

"I think so. Mithril, right?"

Harry nodded. "Yup. Just an alias like Azathoth."

"Mithril?" asked Autumn Query. She brought a hand to her face. "Do you have to make it that obvious?"

"It'll only be obvious in retrospect," said Harry, grinning evilly. "I've been in Circus since July, and it's not like anyone's noticed me yet. It'll be a knee-slapper when everyone learns, won't it?"

"More like a face-slapper," said Autumn.

"I don't get it," said Draco. "What's so obvious about goblin metal?"

Harry adopted a lecturing cadence. "Silver Wing is an important name in recent Equestrian history. He revolutionised the field of pegasus magic at age twelve, but then he mysteriously vanished thirty-four years ago and nopony has seen him since. Mithril is magical silver and also goblin metal, and given that Silver Wing has since ascended to full alicorn status, making him far more magical than before, well... I thought it was an appropriate alias."

"I wish I could say I know you're joking," said Draco, "but you're telling the truth aren't you?"

Harry grinned again. "Wanna see my museum?"

The Defense Professor cleared his throat. "In due time, Mr. Potter. It's on the itinerary."

"It is?"

"After the next item, yes."

"What's the next item?"

"You'll be watching your first Death Battle."

Harry didn't know why he had been expecting it to be a normal 'Death Battle', if there could even be such a thing. But upon the roster of participating contestants was the name "Voldemort".

The Defense Professor had taken a trip to the loo – a Time Turner anchor point, no doubt -

---

It's important to note that even though ponies who sign up to Death Battles mostly know what they're getting themselves into, even though they know everyequus has a Horcrux and won't truly die, there are still many who refuse to take the lives of their opponents.

Death Battles are mandatory for members of the Equestrian reserves, for even if you refuse to take a life, you must learn what it is like to be on a battlefield of deadly spells and potentially ruthless opponents.

Some rare ponies are capable of killing. Non-ponies are capable of it more often. When Death Battles began a number of years ago, Excelsior himself was the only one throwing around deadly spells, and he had a knack for putting his opponents into scenarios that heavily punished those who did not return fire in equal or greater force. More than a few times, he spent the whole battle going around reviving every unconscious enemy, undoing any non-lethal methods of "victory", dragging the battle out for hours. (This was before the "shrinking arena" iteration of battles).

Excelsior had also introduced Equestria to the Killing Curse, even as the counter-charm of the true Patronus was introduced by Celestia, though she made quite the diligent effort to make it known that it was not her own spell, nor her sister's, nor Cadence's, nor Excelsior's, and nor was the Killing Curse invented by Excelsior.

Excelsior was and still is one of the only ponies capable of casting the Killing Curse at will. He did it sparingly, as if reluctantly, during the Death Battles. Often he only used it when he believed his opponent was capable of countering with a Patronus, or when he believed death by the curse would impassion a pony to push their boundaries and grow capable of future counters. Or at least future dodges. Except for those few times he was asked by his reserves to stop obviously holding back and try to win, he restricted his castings to when they seemed to have a purpose that wasn't personal victory for himself.

There have since been a few Changelings, Griffons, Diamond Dogs, and even a Dragon who have managed to cast it. (The Dragon iteration is 'Death Breath', a truly devastating thing to behold, killing even plants and bacteria). But even among those who can cast it, Excelsior seems to be the only one who has ever done it at will, under any circumstance, against any opponent. It requires true apathy or true hatred, which are states of mind that have been deliberately reduced on Equus over the centuries.

The Killing Curse is reportedly easier to use against members of other species. It's reportedly more difficult for males to use against females. It's reportedly more difficult to use against underage opponents, in those rare battles where a young Occlumens or two sought out a Death Battle and consented to join. And even though these fights aren't quite broadcast to the general public, there's a strong social stigma attached to casters capable of the curse. If there is any one spell that symbolizes everything Equestria isn't, it's Avada Kedavra. Chaos has come to be accepted, but death, hatred and apathy have not.

So throughout the Death Battles, training equinoids to be able to defend against the Killing Curse was the responsibility of the Alicorn of Death. Everypony more or less accepted this.

It's important for someone to teach how to defend against death's many manifestations. Pony society regards Excelsior much like one might regard a pony whose occupation, for whatever reason, absolutely requires him to stand in liquid manure all day while performing a disgusting yet necessary function for society. The dirty job to top all others. Excelsior is regarded as the pony who does what nopony else could, and what almost nobody else would do if they could, but who nonetheless is still doing something that should be done.

But now that humans have been introduced, Riddle intends to fully test whether Equestria is actually prepared for the worst of humanity.

What better way to do that than with the finest specimen of them all, Lord Voldemort, the quintessential exemplar of humanity's worst.

In the battle of one hundred contestants, he cast the Killing Curse no fewer than two-hundred and ten times. He spammed, spammed, and spammed some more in a way Excelsior never had, casting it whenever he considered it probable that it could get him closer to a kill. He also engaged in ambush tactics. There were many who could have blocked his curse if they had their Patronuses already cast. That was a situation he intended to remedy quickly. If aurors can work an entire shift without dismissing their Patronuses, and if Occlumency shields can be maintained at all times with enough training, then the True Patronus can be maintained indefinitely. No need to keep it in sight either; send it away as though on a mission to deliver a message, yet keep it active and ready to return at a moment's notice. That would provide permanent protection against the Killing Curse without constantly giving away your position. Though for now, he was simply checking for permanent protection.

(He'd already given them that lesson as Excelsior, told them they needed to be constantly vigilant for the Killing Curse, but he'd never before tested them quite like this, not least because he knew exactly how pony society would feel about him if he didn't do the test in exactly the right way, preserving all feelings involved. This, however, simplifies things.)

"Pathetic," said the high, cold voice of Voldemort in the face of five Patronuses that were now smoothly intercepting all of his curses.

Teaming is frowned upon in free-for-alls, but his opponents had committed to truce without any exchange of words. Such is the nature of a common, menacing enemy.

"Utterly pathetic," Voldemort continued, even as he appeared to effortlessly deflect any attempts at counterattack. "I use but a single offensive spell, and only five of you make it this far? Excelsior has clearly been far too gentle in his methods."

"He's done great!" declared one of his opponents, an Earth Pony mare, briefly dropping her shield to cast a powerful offensive spell. "It's not your place to-"

"Crucio."

(This spell, along with many others whose only purpose is to inflict pain, is often banned even during Death Battles. But Circus had announced that this battle would be the monthly 'no-spells-barred', where even reasonable restrictions like that, and reasonable restrictions on mutilated corpses, and reasonable restrictions against outside devices, are lifted. So long as it's a battle tactic, it's allowed.)

As the mare screamed in agony, to the shocked dismay of three of her fellow ponies, all of whom were stallions, all Patronus Charms winked out. Lord Voldemort did not fail to immediately capitalize, quickly and precisely.

"AvadaKedavraAvadaKedavraAvadaKedavraAvadaKedavraAvadaKedavraAvadaKedavra."

The first green bolt connected to the stallion who was closest to the screaming- now whimpering- mare. The second was dodged by the second-closest stallion, but the third connected to where he landed after his dodge. The fourth connected to the mare he'd tortured before she could recover, taking her out of the fight.

Two Patronus Charms stood between him and his final opponents, which had been called forth just after the fourth Curse had connected to its target, intercepting the remaining Killing Curses still airborne.

"And then there were two," Lord Voldemort observed in a casual voice, as if discussing the weather. "Two offensive spells now, and two remainders." His eyes flashed a deeper and more menacing shade of red, but their Patronuses stayed, so he continued monologuing. "I am here in Excelsior's stead – testing Equestria's bravest by fire. As a consultant specializing in war and power, it is entirely my place to evaluate your shortcomings. And speaking of short..." his gaze dropped down to his youngest apparent opponent. "Standard Changeling tactics do not work against me. You will find that foalish forms evoke no sympathy from the Darkest of Lords, and I do not suggest you ever put that to the test in true life. Avada Kedavra." This one was also blocked successfully, but it proved his words, at least.

"You never know until you try," said his opponent, followed by a flash of green fire. It was no surprise a member of the race known for emotional manipulation had survived the psychological onslaught.

The Changeling's words drew a dramatic scoff and a roll of red eyes. "You are lucky you can frivolously try," said Voldemort. "Once upon a time, naïve assumptions like that-" he raised a finger in the air for emphasis, then pointed that finger at his opponents, causing them to raise defensive shields, "-would have earned you and your friends a painful death." Without preamble, he ever so slightly adjusted the position of his fingers, then twice fired the gun that appeared in his hand, silently activating the pre-prepared spells of trueshot and powerful piercing as he did.

Two bodies fell to the ground, holes through their heads in a more gruesome display of death than all the other contestants.

No humorous sounds or sentences came with his success. Death Battles are not played for laughs. They're the one kind of event that Circus refuses to trivialize with low-brow comedy or levity. There were but two words on the top of the display screens.

Lord: Voldemort

"Victor:" was typically the word used in place of "Lord:", or "Survivor:", or other simple captions that better fit the result. It depended on the winner's playstyle, and in particular if the winner had used lethal force. It was a difficult line to tow, encouraging ponies to participate in these battles without glorifying death, congratulating the winner without praising murder...

"Two offensive spells, a few utility spells, three enchantments, and a transfigured mundane device," said Voldemort. He faced straight ahead, and the screens captured and recorded his next words with perfect clarity. "This I say to all watching Equinoids. Henceforth, if you merely wish to play soldier, if you wish to make a sport of battle, a war zone is not the place for you. If you cannot concentrate after seeing a friend suffer torturous pain and a gruesome demise, even knowing they will later revive and be healed, then you are a normal equinoid being. But true strength lies in the abnormal, and true strength is needed to survive true enemies. To those who stay and do not wish to suffer instant death, however temporary, I suggest you learn to maintain a Patronus at all times and under any circumstance, ready to intercept the Killing Curse at the speed of thought, yet out of sight so it does not betray your position." A human-shaped Patronus appeared at his side for a fraction of a second, then disappeared. "Or I suggest learning to cast it instantly and wordlessly, and training yourself to react immediately to the phrase 'Avada Kedavra' and bright green lights, if that is within your power. I suggest research into all forms of human combat, including the mechanical and magicless. Today shall not be my final battle. If you ever hope to defend yourselves against true threats, you must test yourselves against true power."

He raised his wand, which produced a wide ward of rainbow colour. The Circus environment shied away from the shield, including the grass beneath his feet, and so he switched to floating. For those who knew about the Harmony ward and its requirements – and there were certainly some, in the watching audience – there was a sense of surprised shock that such a dark being could (a) cast it at all, and (b) cast it alone. Something similar could be said about the Patronus that briefly appeared, though many assumed that to be an illusion instead of an actual charm, once they thought about it for two seconds.

"I shall see myself out. Remember what this loss would have meant if it were real, and cling not to excuses of strength in numbers. I once brought Earth's strongest magical country to its knees with a mere fifty soldiers. If you do not wish to be vulnerable to enemies like me, you must do better than they did. When I return, I will wield a wider range of weapons and tactics, far more dangerous than you witnessed today. Your loss will be swift if you are not prepared."

The newest Death Battle victor flew away with purpose, not teleporting from the grounds. He cleared obstacles by simply flying toward or through them, leaving a line of de-chaosed ground and walls and a shaken audience in his wake.

Comments

[Booster Spice]

Now that was nasty, brutal and efficint.

Its not teh transfigured Claymore mine frogs that theyll have to worry about next time, but the binary bombadier beetles generating colourless odourless vapours of various kinds? Or even just slightly ajusted commonplace Earth side bacteria?

Its amazing just how much damage a simple small hole in the ground can cause if it occurs at exactly the wrong place and time.

The killing curse works against the principle of living cogent existance, so it doesnt matter what the mechanism is, organic, nuclear, optical, mechanical, fluidic, electronic, plasmonic etc etc, the curse disrupts the means of complexity of existance, thereby killing all it hits, except for the singular exception?

If the killing curse is unaffected by distance, it can remain unaffected by severe gravitational fields, temporal and dimentional gateways, and hyperbolic defence shields?

And, he got the equivalent of G1 Tireks Bag of Rainbow?

Well, this is going to be intresting. Earth seems to make villains like it makes idiots. Everytime you think you found a way to deal with either, Earth makes an even more capable upgrade.

[Fireeaters]

Honestly, I'd expect a spell that physically rips someone apart to be more psychologically damaging than either the killing curse or the torture curse.

[The Guy Who Writes]

11727413
In MoR, the Killing Curse works every single time on anything with a brain, according to Professor Quirrell, eg Voldemort. And plants don't have brains. Nor do bacteria, although of course they have nuclei.

As for Earth making villains, just wait 'til the next rehab chapter.

[The Guy Who Writes]

11727537
Depends on if it's happening TO you, or if you're watching it happen to someone else. And how instantaneous the 'ripping apart' was. Explosive bullet to the brain is pretty instant, and now that I think about it, there are definitely Circus mechanisms in place to instantly mercy-kill ponies in Death Battles who are suffering incredible agony for no good reason, or at least teleport them to safety. The Killing Curse should, in theory, be painless to the victim. Which ironically but fittingly means that unenlightened normies (read: everybody except Tom Riddle) can't use the Killing Curse to mercy-kill, because if they tried, it would mean they care.

The Cruciatus is a different matter. It was specifically designed to be as physically agonizing as possible without causing unconsciousness, to the point that it drives people insane in minutes, so I'd say that's the harshest kind of technically impermanent physical trauma anyone can experience. And hearing someone actively suffering from the Cruciatus is the same as hearing someone in the worst pain they've ever experienced, which might just interfere with happy Patronus 2.0 thoughts, and happy Patronus 1.0 thoughts for that matter, sooooo....

[Booster Spice]

11727585

If plants and bacteria are immune, does that include entities such as Timberwolves, Plunder Vines, Smooze, and any varients based on them as well as certain Wolverine class regnerative dragon types, and tweaked Hippogriff/Seapony pearls?

How does Cruciatus work on the humans known that have medical conditions, such as the one that cant suffer trauma, theres no memory effect, or even the extremely rare occurance where pain neurons just cant fire, because the calcium channels dont exist? Unless Cruiciatus does the equivalent of the medically opposite, those poor induviduals where the pain channels are always active, something about fire skin?

Its suprising just how close to average, extreme capabilities exist even on Earth. magical realms should be expected to be for wider anging, thats why Equestria has all the mythical beings?

At least its not as bad as Xanth.

[Poparakelis]

Ain't that man merciless

[Black--Soul]

Damn, what a ruthless lesson. At least death isn't permanent, yet they probably will learn how hard dying is. I wonder if they remember the death pains.

With the old Horcrux system do I have to wonder if Voldemort ever will encounter one of his old selfs and need to dispatch it.