Anything Different, Everything Different

Aidan C.

Respectfully Rated: M

Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 1
The Fall

In the haze of smoke that remained above the hot earth, he could see nothing. The harsh smell of burnt wood and flesh stung his nostrils and rendered them useless. His ears were buzzing from the aftermath of the deadly Cruciatus. He was blinded.

He felt like crying out to somebody, anybody; his friends, his mentors, his allies... where had they all gone? He could not utter a sound however, not only due to the stinging sensation in his throat, but because he could not risk drawing attention to himself.

He was alone.

Or was he?

The silence that surrounded him, except for the crackling fires that littered the forest ground, was too unnatural to be safe. Not a moment ago, had there been bright blasts and screams, the noise of feet scattering in every direction, the thud of bodies falling heavily upon dirt.

No, it was too odd, this sudden silence.

With trembling hands, he held his wand even tighter, and lifted it before his heaving chest, cold sweat mingled with blood and tears on his face. The beat of his heart was much too loud and the throbbing in his head too painful.

He was coming.

He was near.

And then, when the searing pain in his forehead became almost too much for him to bear, a quiet flutter of wind caressed the back of his neck in a sickening way. Goosebumps rose on his skin and the thundering of his heart seemed to cease just for a moment.

"Harry Potter..."

He barely had time to whip around before he was thrown brutally off his feet with a curse and slammed into a large rock that stood twenty feet away.

"Voldemort - " he managed to spit out above a hiss of pain. His head spun, and he could taste warm blood in his mouth.

"Finally, we meet without any petty interruptions," the familiar low curl of the Dark Lord's voice swept through the air. Harry grasped the boulder behind him and pushed himself back onto his feet jerkily, just as a tall cloaked figure began looming closer through the dusty haze. "Are you happy to see me, Harry?"

The voice twisted like thorned vines around his throat, draining the air out of his lungs and leaving his breathless. It was the sound of ice and fire, hate and passion. Passion for all the wrong things in the world.

"Answer me, Harry. After all, this is the last conversation we shall ever have. Are you happy to see me?"

Swallowing the lump of dry ash in his parched mouth, Harry left the sanctuary of the rock and stood as straight as he could. The gravel beneath his feet crackled hesitantly, as if reflecting his own feelings and movement, which he had no intention of revealing to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord was not to know that he was anything but confident.

"I sense fear in you, Harry," the cold voice uttered disdainfully. "You are lost. You are alone. You already feel defeated." Voldemort took another step forward; his wispy robes billowing out behind him like the smoke in the air. "No one is here to help you, for they are all gone."

Each frozen word felt like a stab in his chest, but he only gripped his wand harder, not caring that his nails were digging into the palm of his hand. He could not let Voldemort's words affect him. Their purpose was to tangle him, weaken him.

"Perhaps you would like to see what your old eccentric mentor did to me, before I killed him? I'm sure it will make you feel better knowing he died struggling against me."

Harry licked his lips and raised his wand even higher. He did not want to see. He would not believe the words of a darkness like him.

Seeing the look of trepidation flash in Harry's eyes, Voldemort slowly lifted one ghostly white, boned hand and drew back the deep hood shadowing most of his face.

The cloth fell away fluidly, to reveal a large fleshy crater in the side of Voldemort's skull, his left eye and ear mangled so bloodily that Harry could no longer see any shape of them. His stomach churned at the gruesome sight, and he almost shut his eyes in nausea, but a high pitched cackle brought him back to his senses.

"Why do you sicken at the sight before you? Have you not seen me at my worst? When I had no body, no physical powers?"

It was true. He had seen Voldemort as a small, helpless, baby-like creature. If Harry had not been bound tightly to a gravestone, he could have easily murdered Voldemort with his bare hands. But instead of finishing its life, he'd given it life. He'd given his own blood - reluctantly yes, but nevertheless, it was partly his fault that Voldemort had been resurrected.

He could not dwell on that though. Not tonight. Not when he knew that either Voldemort or his own life would end before the sun rose.

"Dumbledore isn't dead," he heard himself speak firmly, through gritted teeth. "And neither are my friends."

Voldemort's red eyes flickered before a smirk stretched across painfully tight skin. "Aren't dead, are they?" He took another step forward, but Harry stood his ground. "Tell me, where do you suppose they are? I don't hear them shouting encouragement, or hurtling curses at me. No one's trying to protect you from me... they're dead, Harry. You must accept the fact."

"I won't!" Harry shouted angrily. "I won't let you kill them like you killed Sirius and my parents!" He took in a deep, shuddering breath. "EXTEMPUS!"

A beam of yellow light shot out from tip of his wand faster than a blink of an eye, aimed straight toward the spot where Voldemort was standing. Voldemort however, seemed to be expecting it and spun away smoothly just in time before it crashed into the tree next to him. The thick tree exploded into furious red flames and groaned as it tore downward through the air.

"Much too predictable, dear Harry. Quite a disappointment," leered Voldemort wickedly. He lashed his wand out. "Crucio!

"Protego!"

A wave of translucent armor went up just as a red light was blasted against it. It faded quickly as he dodged a second curse.

"Reducto!" Harry bellowed.

This time, the spell grazed the hems of Voldemort's soiled robes, tearing the material to shreds and making him stumble backwards from the impact. Harry took this as a chance to aim his wand again with narrowed eyes, a deadly purpose rising inside of him like molten lava. He didn't even consider the chances of him actually succeeding with the curse. Or the chances of Voldemort repelling it and sending it back to him. It was already on the tip of his tongue, and his whole body burned with rage.

"AVADA - "

But his scream was cut short by a deafening bang that reverberated through the very air and the ground beneath him. He nearly lost his footing but managed to remain upright, frantically searching the area out of the corner of his eye for the cause of the disturbance. He and Voldemort were supposed to be alone. Weren't they?

"SALVARO!" A voice rang out clearly, followed instantly by a thin veil of light that enclosed Harry in a tall dome-like structure. Harry snapped his head up in alarm.

"Stupefy!"

Voldemort repelled the hex easily and directed his wand point at the third figure now standing within the cloud of smoke.

"Malfoy!" Harry shouted in astonishment.

The blond was poised defensively only meters away from Lord Voldemort. What was he doing here? Where did he come from? It seemed almost surreal.

"Well, well, young Master Malfoy," Voldemort's icy voice said menacingly, rippled because of the shield around Harry. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Indeed," Malfoy replied just as coldly, his gray eyes flashing by the light of the flames erupting from the tree. He looked strained, although he was doing a great deal to conceal it, and his robes were torn and bloodied. "The thought of leaving for hell without you seemed so incredibly selfish of me."

Voldemort looked almost gleeful then. "How disgustingly brave of you. And yet, I'm afraid I have to inform you, that even though you might have successfully escaped from my prisons, you lack the power and wisdom to kill me. Greatly. You have come to your own deathbed, Draco. Your father would not be proud."

"My father was never proud of anything I did, and you made sure of that."

Voldemort's one red eye narrowed. "You insolence is what deems you unworthy of the Dark Mark, Draco. I sensed it from the day your father brought you to me. But your father had great faith in you and promised me that you would come to serve me well. He was very foolish."

Harry watched Malfoy with baited breath as the blonde just smirked and opened his mouth calmly. He half expected another witty remark, but then saw that his pale hand was curling around his dark wand just slightly, changing the direction of its aim so subtly that it was hard to be sure.

"Ralentato - " Malfoy hissed, and a shower of silver sparks cascaded down in between him and Voldemort. Voldemort froze and his expression turned into one of absolute outrage. He let out a cry of fury and tried to blast the sparks away, but succeeded very little.

Malfoy then spun on his heel and began running over to where Harry was trapped inside the dome. He was digging into his pocket for something and it began to dawn on Harry that Malfoy had not come here to avenge his father by killing Voldemort. He'd come here to take Harry away.

"Malfoy what the fuck are you doing? He'll kill you if you don't get out of here!" Harry said angrily, trying to pound away the glowing dome walls.

"Finite Salvaro!"

The dome shattered and dissipated at his feet.

"Malfoy!" He bellowed in frustration. "Get out of here!"

Finally, Malfoy's burning eyes met his and Harry glared back at him in complete confusion.

"Potter, take my hand," said Malfoy, urgently, but when Harry didn't, he snatched at Harry's hand himself. "Take my fucking hand!"

Harry jumped backwards incredulously. "Are you insane? I can't leave! I have to kill him!"

"And what makes you think you'll be able to do that? Why are you so sure that you won't be the one dead as a doornail by tomorrow?" Malfoy retaliated.

Harry felt that he could almost punch Malfoy in the face. He'd never felt more desperate and frustrated in his life. "Shut the hell up and get out of here, Malfoy! Before its too late!"

"DIFFINDO!" A cry like the sound of nails on a chalkboard split the air and both Harry and Malfoy were forced to throw their arms up over their faces as a great explosion of orange bloomed into the air from the spot the sparks had been falling.

"Fuck! He broke the shield!" Malfoy shouted, his eyes wide as he scrambled with the little stone in his hand. "Potter, touch this now!"

For a split second, Harry was horrifyingly mesmerized by the fear in Malfoy's face, and the vision of Voldemort nearly soaring across the charcoaled ground toward them with his wand outstretched. It seemed the end had come too fast, like a film being fast-forwarded when he'd meant to rewind it.

"POTTER!" A faraway voice screamed, wrenching his gut.

"AVADA-"

Something was wrapping around his body, something was pulling at his limbs.

"KEDAVRA!"

As green light rushed in swirls toward his eyes, another sensation rushed through his ears in a deafening roar, and suddenly, he felt as if he were floating, falling, and then, being sucked into a hole deeper then even the core of the earth.

He closed his eyes tightly and let himself be pulled downward.

TBC...

Hello everyone, great for you to read the first chapter of my story. Obviously, there's more to come, but I'd love it if you could leave me a word or two. Or a smile. Or anything:)
May the force be with you... I mean... May the wand be with you.