"…What should we do?" Ron asked, turning away from the now empty entrance.
"He can't do it on his own… He can't." Hermione whispered. "He needs us…We should go after him."
"Are you serious?" Ron shook his head. "He's going to Voldemort's base, Hermione! To Hogwarts!"
Draco gave a frustrated yell. "Argh! Damn you Potter!" Draco turned and began piling the remaining weapons, both muggle and magical into bags. Draco threw the full bags into the back of the gold Ute, then turned to inspect their selection of armour.
"What… What are you going Draco?" Hermione asked.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm fucking going after that daft git! He's going to need backup." Draco sat down heavily on one of the work benches and began pulling on dragon hide boots. "Well? What are you two waiting for? Are we going to help your stupid friend or not?" He snapped.
Hogwarts had changed. Voldemort had taken Harry childhood home and twisted it into a nightmare. The castle didn't feel welcoming or enchanting anymore. Now the smell of rotting flesh, waste and Merlin knew what else made the air heavy and muggy. It was disgusting.
Was this truly the vision Voldemort had for the Wizarding world? A disease riddled slum? Poverty, torture and excessive inbreeding? What a waste of power and resources.
It was here that Harry stood, at the gates of the one place no one wanted entry too. The one place he did want entry too. It was time to end it all; the groans and screams of the dead and dying floated through the air like mist. It reminded him of that fateful night almost ten years ago…
The death of the Boy-Who-Lived and the birth of 'Just Harry'.
Harry didn't rush, he calmly approached the ruins of Hogwarts. His bag of goodies swung back and forth with each step. He wondered how Bella was going with her side of the plan. He hoped he'd given her enough time.
Harry paused, his eyes drifted up, to the tower that he knew Voldemort used as his personal chambers. Through the window he could see his twisted shadow. It will be so easy…
Dropping the sports bag beside him, Harry kneeled and opened it. His eyes trailed over the variety of weapons he'd collected before he'd left the warehouse. He glanced back up at the Dark Lords silhouette, at this distance the only weapon suitable would be the muggle rifle.
Harry took his time setting up the brace and loading the muggle gun, there would be no sense in rushing and making a mistake. He'd only get one chance at this. If he didn't get this right now, he'd have to fight Voldemort face-to-face.
He thanked his obsessive nature for forcing himself to learn how to use almost every weapon stored at the warehouse. Without a sound Harry lined up his shot and waited; following the shadows movement for the right moment…
…tbc