Where was he? How did he get there? These were some of the many thoughts swimming through Harry's mind as he regained consciousness. The world was dark and blurry as he opened his eyes. He found that he was laying flat on his stomach, but couldn't make out much else since his glasses were gone. He thrust a hand out in front of him to feel around for them, and sure enough, there they were, staring him in the face. He jammed them on his head. He took the time to examine the room, and in a second he knew were he was. There was a large stone dais in the center of the room, and archway draped in a silky black cloth was perched on top. It was The Death Room. The same room where he had lost his godfather Sirius Black to death. A white hot anger bubbled up inside his chest as he stood up. He knew exactly why he was here, and he was prepared to meet the challenge before him.
Harry heard voices from behind him. He whipped around, drawing his wand from his pocket. There in a semi-circle, stood many hooded figures. Death Eaters. Their faces were completely obscured, but he knew from a sick feeling in his heart that they were laughing at his pain. They said nothing as he looked them over. Just then without a warning, his scar seared with pain. He did his best to not show signs of anguish in the Death Eaters eyes. But no matter how hard he tried, he still winced, his eyes watering. Snickering went up from the lot of them, all staring down upon him like ravenous vultures, eager to see him flinch and moan in pain. They were quickly silenced. Harry slapped his hand over his face as his scar throbbed.
" Turn around Potter," said a malicious voice from behind, " Turn around and face me."
Harry did as he was told, all the while knowing who the voice belonged to. He then found himself looking into the red, slitted eyes of pure evil. His archrival. It was Voldemort himself, returned to full power, and more villainous than ever before.
" Voldemort," Harry whispered.
" Yes, yes Potter, it is I. I think you already know why I have brought you here, do you not?" he smiled coldly. Harry however remained silent and stone-faced. " I have waited years for this moment, Harry. Years. Sixteen miserable years to be exact!" he fumed, but quickly calmed himself. " I suppose you have already heard the prophecy. That neither of us can live while the other survives? Well, tonight one of us will meet our death, Harry and the prophecy will be fulfilled. Tonight, you meet your end, Harry Potter! Bow for a duel!"
Harry bowed and Voldemort did the same, his evil grin never wavering. They pointed their wands at one another, ready for battle.
" Scared?" Voldemort asked.
" You better damn well believe I'm not scared of you," said Harry viciously, " I never was." Voldemort laughed.
" Crucio!" the spell went hurdling at Harry, but he was ready for it. He dove to his right.
" Expelliarmus!" he shouted. With a flash of white light, Voldemort's wand went flying into the crowd of Death Eaters. One of them jumped up, caught the wand and had thrown it back to her master with a hearty evil laugh.
" Thank you, Bellatrix," he said as he caught it, " But I beg you, let me handle this duel on my own, thank you! Crucio!" as Harry had been concentrated on his burning scar, he did not have any time to dodge the spell. It hit him full force. He was thrown backwards, twitching and yelling in agony.
He could hear Death Eaters, and even Voldemort himself laughing insanely as the spell subsided. But he could not give in. He must stay in this duel. He had suffered this curse before and had never thrown in the towel, so why should he now? Why so early into the game? As he got to his knees, he could hear two voices battling in his head.
You can't do this Harry, one said, You know you can't kill him! Just give up and die now! Save yourself the anguish! But the next voice was even more powerful.
Damn you Harry! Get off the floor and fight! You can't let him win! The scumbag murdered your parents! If it wasn't for his Death Eaters, Sirius would be alive! Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!
Without a second thought, Harry obeyed the second, more malicious voice. He roared, "Crucio!" the spell hit Voldemort head-on. He was now as Harry had never seen him: in pain. He screamed with pure cold fury and he writhed and winced. Harry's spell had been powerful. He wanted to see Voldemort suffer with all his soul, and a spell of that magnitude would not wear off for awhile.
Infuriated, the Death Eaters had failed to obey their master's orders and not interfere. They had started aiming spells at Harry. One by one, with a bit of quick thinking, and a few close-called blocks, Harry had managed to remain almost completely unscathed. A single spell had got past him and grazed his left arm. It was now bleeding wildly, but he paid not attention to it. He was now busy watching Voldemort get to his feet and yell at his followers.
" I said no assistance!" he yelled. " Crucio!" once again Harry dodged the spell.
" Redeemus!" said Harry. Voldemort's eyes began to bleed as Harry again raised his wand. " Redeemus!" his enemy's condition from there worsened. The bleeding was immense. There was now a puddle of blood surrounding him.
But even through a mouthful of blood, Voldemort still managed to scream,
" Adava Kedavra!" it was the killing curse, completely unblockable. What was Harry to do? He was dead for sure. Or was he?
