The Final Battle
Tom Riddle was pacing his chamber. He was in deep
thought. If anyone disturbed him it would be their life. Only one
Deatheater dared enter. That was Peter Pettigrew. The only reason he
dared was because he had valuable information. He had found out how
to break into the wards protecting Harry Potter. His master would be
able to enter and kill the boy once and for all. His master had been
trying to kill Harry for 16 years. Peter could only imagine how he
would be rewarded when Voldemort killed Harry. He would surely be put
in the top circle of Deatheaters where Malfoy and Bella were. He
entered the chamber. Voldemort stopped pacing and slowly turned to
look at him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked,
seething.
"My Lord, I have valuable information concerning
Harry Potter," Peter stuttered out.
Voldemort
glared at him.
"Well! Are you going to tell me?" he
yelled.
Peter
nodded.
"I found out how to get passed the wards that are
protecting Harry Potter. I have a friend who helps put up wards and
he did some research on the wards protecting the boy. Yesterday he
came back to me and told me that there is a little glitch. You can
use a Portkey to get into his house."
"A Portkey?
That is all?" Voldemort sneered.
Peter
nodded. Voldemort beckoned Peter to him.
"Come here Peter.
You know what I'm about to do."
He
touched Peter's left arm and Peter whimpered in pain. The mark on
Peter's arm burned.
"We will see if your theory is correct,
Peter," Voldemort said.
Voldermort
walked across the chamber and sat in his chair. It looked more like a
king's chair. It was like a throne. Peter just stood there, shaking.
Voldemort had many things going through his mind. He would finally be
able to kill Harry Potter once and for all. He had been trying to
that for a very long time.
"Hopefully," he thought,"
I will be able to find out what the prophecy said before I kill
Harry."
He
was sure the mudblood loving fool Dumbledore would have told Harry
when he was still alive.
The room filled with popping noises
as Voldemort's followers apperated into the room. They quickly formed
a circle around Voldemort's chair. Voldemort stood and began to
walk around the circle. Some Deatheaters shivered as he passed them.
"I suppose you all are wondering why I called you here,"
Voldermort began.
There
was a murmur of yes's around the circle.
"I have been
giving information about Harry Potter that will affect me very much.
I know how to get to the boy. Peter Pettigrew has found out it takes
only a Portkey to get to his aunt and uncle's house."
The
circle was once again filled with murmurs as this was said.
"Silence."
The
room went deadly quiet.
"I will need help to ambush the
boy. I need some of my best Deatheaters to form an attack on the boy
right before I come. Only those in my inner circle do I trust to help
me in this task. I will tell you of my plan. We strike at night!"
It was a warm summer night. The air on Privet Drive was filled
with tension. The first signs of attack were showing. The silence was
driving Harry Potter crazy. He wished he could leave this awful
place. He needed a place to think. He needed a place to think about
Dumbledore's death. Since he still had not turned 17 he could not
leave his aunt's house. He almost wished he and Voldemort could just
finish it off right away so that he would either die or be free. The
thought of just waiting for an attack made Harry irritable.
As Harry was thinking all this, two Deatheaters had snuck into the
house and had killed the Dursleys. They were waiting to give the
signal of the attack.
Harry walked downstairs to find his
aunt on the floor; his cousin was slumped on a chair, and his uncle
lying on the couch. They were all dead. He took out his wand and
walked into the kitchen. Two Deatheaters stood, pointing their wands
in the air. One of them said a spell and the Dark Mark flew out of
his wand. Harry knew that the final attack was imminent. He quickly
stunned the two and touched the gallon given in case of emergencies.
It would heat up in Lupin, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Professor
McGonagall, and Tonk's pocket. Suddenly the room was a place of
activity from arriving Portkeys. Harry ran outside and saw the Order
running at him.
"Run Harry!" Lupin yelled.
Harry
nodded and started running to the park where he first saw Sirius. He
finally reached his destination and turned around. He had heard a
popping noise from behind him. He turned back around when he heard a
high laugh that made his blood turn cold. Voldemort had found him.
This was it. Dumbledore was not here to protect him anymore. He would
face the prophecy. He would either kill or be killed. He turned to
face Voldemort like a man. Like his father.
"I'm glad you
have finally decided to face death, Harry. I jus want you to know
that I will enjoy killing you very much."
"Then
let's get this started!" Harry yelled.
They
bowed to each other like it was just a simple duel. It was much more
than that. They each shouted a curse. Harry had shouted the disarming
spell. Voldemort shouted the pain curse. The dodged the curses sent
at each other. Finally Voldemort's spell hit Harry. Harry fell to his
knees, screaming in pain. It blinded him. Just as he was coming out
of it he heard a voice.
"Harry! No!"
Harry
looked up and saw Ron running at him.
"No Ron! Go back!"
Ron
just kept running at him. Voldemort turned and saw Ron. He smiled.
"Harry Potter. Not only will you die. You will see me kill your
best friend!"
It
happened in slow motion. Voldemort yelled the curse. Ron kept running
at him. The curse hit Ron right in the chest. Ron looked at Harry and
smiled.
"You can do it Harry!"
Then he fell to
the ground, dead.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Harry jumped
to his feet.
He yelled the killing curse, putting all his anger into it. It hit Voldemort. Voldemort burst into flames. He was dead. Dead forever. Harry had killed Voldemort. Harry, the boy who lived, had saved the wizarding world. But inside Harry did not feel the satisfaction of knowing that he had beaten Voldemort and that he would not have to worry about anyone he loved getting hurt anymore. The truth was he felt a raw pain in his heart. He had lost his best friend. No one could replace Ron. He fell on the ground and a sob racked through his body. He lay there crying when a hand softly touched his shoulder. He looked up and saw Ginny looking down at him, tears pouring down her face. He stood up and hugged her tightly. They held each other firmly, tears streaming down their faces. Harry knew that Ginny and he would eventually heal from the hurt that was aching them now. He would never forget his best friend Ron, a boy who stood by him through many things and sacrificed himself for his friends.
