Chapter 2 is coming soon, and some dark secrets will be revealed. Not as many as in Chapter 3 though, but that'll be along soon, with lots of betrayal and angst.
Harry Potter looked upon the face of the Dark Lord, and loathed him. That jeering face... the face that murdered his parents and made the wizarding world a slave to his power-hungry desires. The face that today would finally be destroyed.
He'd told that ruthless, serpentine, soulless man that Severus Snape had been loyal to Dumbledore and the Order all along, not an evil snakelike coward but a towering, brave lion, loyal to Lily Potter's memory from the moment Voldemort cast that fateful Killing Curse. He'd watched, with glee, the look of weakness and betrayal on the face of Riddle, and watched as it turned to one of anger and wrath. He Who Must Not Be Named was ready to fight the Boy Who Lived; his Horcruxes depleted, a weakened shell of a creature with only one-eighth of a soul, but Harry remarked on his determination to wipe him from the face of the Earth, and claim it all for himself.
The next minute was a blur.
Voldemort hurled a bright green Killing Curse at Harry, the Elder Wand clenched desperately in his outstretched hand and his mouth screaming the incantation 'Avadra Kevadra!', while Harry sent the comparately feeble Disarming Charm at the powerful demonic figure, with Draco Malfoy's wand, which was rebellious and unfamiliar at the least, but Harry's charm reached its target first, sending the Deathstick hurling into the air. A pulse of familiar green light shot towards the Dark Lord, but something was wrong... As the Killing Curse hit Tom Riddle, his mouth was framed in a manic grin and he made no effort to stop the path of the curse. As quickly as the entire encounter had begun, it ended. The Killing Curse rebounded off of the Dark Lord and as it shot towards Harry, he saw the Dark Lord turn his wand on the frightened crowd of Hogwarts students as the entire world became an indigo blur. When the Curse hit Harry, there was no flash of green light, no separation from his body, just a huge blue miasma that surrounded him and smothered his senses. Then... silence. Peace. A lack of movement, anywhere. And then, his senses slowly returned.
He found himself in the familiar but horrible battle-ruined Great Hall, the ceiling blasted clean off and the interior ruined by fire. But there was no frightened crowd, no Lord Voldemort, no sign of life ever having been there apart from the occasional decomposing skeleton. But in the centre of the hall was something that Harry had seen once before, in one of his blasted visions in which he could see through the eyes of the Dark Lord. A shiver ran through his spine.
A perfect replica of the gates of Nurmengard, about 12 feet high, flanked with skulls and with the accursed mantra of Grindelwald's crudely carved into the arch. "For the Greater Good." The same ideology that killed Dumbledore's gentle and innocent sister and wreaked death and destruction across Europe. The same ideology, he was reminded by a voice in his head, that his hero Dumbledore once supported. He felt betrayed.
But then he heard a voice, a reassuring voice that made him feel that he was not lost but found, that all of the problems in the world were melting away. It was the gentle but firm Scottish accent of Albus Dumbledore.
'Hello Harry. We've been waiting for you for a while. Do take a seat. I imagine you're quite worn out after that battle.'