New Eyes
Prologue—The Last Battle
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Summer, 1998
"Stay back, and don't interfere!" shouted Harry, nearly blinded with pain from his scar. With his hand cupped over his forehead, he pushed his two friends behind him. "Keep in the trees and stay hidden! I have to do this alone!" A jet of green light flew just inches past Harry's face.
"No, Harry," Hermione argued stubbornly, "We know you have to destroy Voldemort on your own, but that doesn't mean that we can't help you along the way. We're here for you, and we're not leaving you. We'll do anything to help you."
"Oh, how touching," Harry's enemy gushed with cruel mockery, "Do you hear that, Harry? They won't leave your side! They can die protecting you just as your foolish Mudblood mother did. Pity they can't stay afterward and watch you die."
The Dark Lord circled around the trio, while the Death Eaters prowled about in the background, following the instructions from their master and not intervening. Voldemort smirked at the three teenagers, intending to frighten them. He was confident he could defeat these inferior, ridiculous children.
"Don't touch them," Harry warned in a low and deadly voice, furious at this creature for all the years of pain and anguish he had caused everyone. "You won't kill them, and you won't kill me."
Lord Voldemort laughed tauntingly. Hermione raised her wand, but unfortunately he was too quick. She was lifted into the air and thrown backward, hitting a tree in the very same graveyard in which Harry had been in, in his fourth year. She let out a moan of pain, her head throbbing as blood from scratches and cuts ran down her face and arms. Ron glanced back at her nervously, but turned back around to keep his watch on Voldemort.
"Silly girl," the Dark Lord said with a smirk.
Still glaring at his opponent, Harry hissed to his remaining friend, "Ron, get out of here before you get hurt too! Go back to Hermione!"
"No. Shut up, Harry, and concentrate on him. Don't worry about us," Ron commanded.
"I can't fight if I know that you and Hermione are in danger or are hurt. Go back to Hermione," Harry said slowly and firmly, maintaining a deadly glare on his opponent.
"Yes," Voldemort agreed with amusement, staring with narrowed eyes straight into Harry's eyes all the while, "do go back to your dearest Mudblood girl so I can have Harry here all to myself."
"Go, Ron!" Harry ordered through gritted teeth.
Ron turned anxiously and ran to Hermione. She was close to the state of unconsciousness. He stroked her hair and gently shook her. "Hermione. You have to stay conscious. Don't go down, not now."
She fluttered her eyes open and looked up at Ron with her brow furrowed in pain. He suddenly realized that she was in no state to fight. He couldn't let her go out there when she was in this much pain, for she had hit the tree hard. "Just stay here. I'll go out there and fight. If you feel better, you decide if you want to come back to the battle," Ron whispered to her, then he turned and re-entered the war.
After that, the war became more and more violent and intense. By then, all of the Death Eaters were either dead or had fled. Hermione watched painfully as she saw Voldemort performing the Cruciatus Curse on her two friends. Each time one of them would undergo the curse, she would start weeping, and tears would stream down her face. Their screams of torture alone put anguish in Hermione's heart.
Finally, after many bruises, scrapes, curses, and open wounds, Voldemort was visibly weakening. Although he was weak, he was getting more determined and aggressive. "You won't take me down, Potter," he hissed, panic and determination flashing across his eyes. With a tone of triumph, he cried, "I will defeat you!"
Ron abruptly raised his wand and pointed it at Voldemort. As the Dark Lord blocked the curse, he laughed a mad and merciless laugh and shouted, "Abrogo Oculus!"
A blinding, bright white light shone from the Dark Lord's wand and hit Ron directly in his face. Ron's hands flew to his face, covering it and shielding his eyes as he screamed in agony. As he fell to the ground, a green light flashed. The darkest wizard of all time dropped to the ground, his eyes losing their color, and his body paralyzed in a final and permanent death. He was finally defeated by the Boy Who Lived, by the Chosen One, by Harry Potter . . . and by a great sacrifice from a true friend.
All was silent, and not a thing could be heard, except for a weary, desperate voice, filled with heartbreak and distress. "RON!" screamed his lover while warm, salty tears ran silently down her dirty face.