snickz: Hey, guys. So, as I understand it, I need a little disclaimer. Here it is (ta-daaa!): I do not own any Harry Potter characters (i.e., Voldemort, Ron Weasley, oh and Harry Potter himself) as they belong to J.K.Rowling and her affiliates, but obviously I own and would very much mind if someone "borrowed" my characters i.e. ...well they'll come up, haha, "Yay I love surprises!" ahem so anyway...
--"
"Expelliaramis!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
The bang was like a canon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Harry saw Voldemort's green jet meet his own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunk, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell.
One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around Harry as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air… They moved Voldemort's body and laid it in a chamber off the Hall, away from the bodies of Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Colin Greevey, and fifty others who had died fighting him… Death Eaters were fleeing or else being captured…
Somewhere in the distance [Harry, Ron, and Hermoine could hear Peeves zooming around through the corridors singing a victory song of his own composition: We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter's the one, And Voldy's gone moldy, so now let's have fun!
"Really gives a feeling for the scope and tragedy of the thing, doesn't it?" said Ron, pushing a door to let Harry and Hermoine through.
"-- (end pp. 743-746)