A/N: Alright, this is it. This is the REAL finale chapter, seriously. I'm not kidding this time. Let there be quick acknowledgements to the DLP Spell List in the Fanfic Forum at the DLP forums and to the usual critics and reviewers. There'll be a proper dedication in the epilogue, so without further ado, here is Resistance of Azkaban: Chapter 21.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut as he was pulled and tugged through a whirling spectrum of colours. Flashes of light drove into his skull, pounding away into his brain with heavy blows. The sensation of feeling his entire body being pulled by an immense force seemed to last for hours, but in reality, it was only a few minutes later when Harry, and the entire Order of Phoenix, was thrown out of the vortex with force. Harry's eyes immediately shot open as he landed roughly on a floor of polished dark floorboards and he jumped to his feet, his eyes blazing with determination as he quickly glanced around at his surroundings.
He had just landed in the middle of long and splendid hall, with shiny dark wooden walls. Highly wrought and gilded fireplaces were set in the walls to his left and right, left for arrivals, right for departures. A quick glance upwards revealed a silver and glistening green Dark Mark, which leered down at them unpleasantly, the snake bobbing its head furiously towards them, as if it recognised that their were intruders. In the centre of the Atrium, replacing the previous Fountain of Magical Brethren, were three obsidian sculptures of proud Death Eaters, two with masks and one without. The one with the revealed face had a look of arrogance and pride, while his companions stood behind him. His wand was levelled towards the ceiling and a pillar of shimmering magic flared from it as it supported the dark mark above.
Harry's eyes next flew to the entrance of the Ministry of Magic, two large silver-wrought gates that stood firmly behind two security guards. In front of these gates, four Death Eaters stood on guard while a six Aurors sat in each security booth. All of them looked absolutely astonished at the large number of people that had suddenly and silently appeared in front of them despite the powerful wards they knew had been placed on the atrium. The split second it took them to comprehend what had just happened allowed the sixty-five members of the Order of Phoenix to recover from the after-effects of the international portkey. A second later, the battle to decide the fate of Britain began.
A large volley of light ranging from fiery red, eerie green and bright yellow erupted from the Order of Phoenix in a hail of yelled and muttered incantations. Death Eaters and Auror's, still recovering from the shock, ducked behind the heavily warded and shielded security desks. The curses rocketed past their heads, although several slammed into the security desk and exploded in a shower of sparks, and struck the large silver-wrought gates. A loud and chilling gong rung through the large room as the gates shimmering in a near-transparent light, flickering as it dispelled, absorbed or deflected dozens of curses.
The Aurors blindly pointed their wands from behind the security desk, loud and panicked screams of Avada Kedavra being the most commonly heard spell as they retaliated. Six or seven glowing green jets of light, accompanied by the noise of a roaring wind, shot from behind the desk. Four of the curses glowed with an intense light, most likely cast by the elite Death Eaters, while the other three flickered weakly, probably created by the weaker Aurors. The power behind the spell didn't make a difference as Harry made a broad sweeping gesture with his wand and the very ground rumbled as the floorboards cracked and splintered, a low wall of granite shooting from the ground. The killing curses struck the dull rocky substance, which chipped and splintered under the force of the spells. Although the more powerful curses caused large cracks to shoot down the wall, it held strong as a row of Order members ducked behind it, sending forth another barrage of spells towards the security desks, which also held firm under the intense spell-fire it was being placed under.
"Bowden, Jordan!" Harry roared over the loud noise of battle, his green eyes finding the most elite members of his raiding team in the crowd. The two females, one old, grey and weathered, the other young, beautiful and sleek, but both very dangerous, darted their eyes his way as they urged Order members to duck behind Harry's conjured wall.
"What is it, sir?" Jordan screamed back as few more curses rocketed from the Aurors, this time in the form of shimmering and glowing pillars and blasts of light. The various explosive curses struck the granite barrier with a deafening roar, some of the Order members falling back under the concussive power of the strikes. A few large chunks of the granite wall were torn apart, debris flying through the air around the centre of the battlefield. However, under the direction of a grim-looking Hestia Jones, the holes were instantly repaired, a grey cloud of mist billowing into them and solidifying into hard stone.
"Form walls on either side of the fireplaces!" Harry instructed in a yell as he moved through the throng of Order members. "Get our people to duck behind them! Keep the fortifications around this statue and hold the position!"
Jordan and Bowden nodded simultaneously, neither flinching as another roaring wave of explosive curses struck the thick, granite wall. A loud booming noise roared in the Atrium as another chunk was blown from the conjured wall. The ground rumbled slightly, rocking the Azkaban Guard on their feet, while Jordan and Bowden simultaneously turned around, directing the Azkaban Guards closest to them to line up as they conjured up a long granite wall on either side of the large statue. The granite shimmered as Azkaban Guards ducked behind it, muttering protective and strengthening charms as they waited for the eventual horde of Aurors to burst from the fireplaces.
Meanwhile, Harry had pushed his way to the front wall, his eyes narrowed and hard as he stared at the security desk on the left, which shimmered with an almost-transparent magic as another barrage of brightly coloured streaks of light slammed into it. Explosive curses detonated with loud bangs, ripping up floorboards and sending wooden shards flying through the air, but the desks remained unharmed. Harry frowned and briefly wondered if Voldemort himself had performed the enchantments on these desks himself. The Aurors and Death Eaters sheltered behind these security desks sent out another barrage of powerful explosion and destruction curses, blinding pillars of powerful magic and bursts of intense purple light rocketing towards the forward line of the Order of Phoenix. The Azkaban Guard ducked behind their wall again as the first of the explosion curses detonated on the granite with bright flares and loud booming roars, but Harry, seeing a menacing flash of intense purple light travelling towards a weakened section of the wall, instantly swept his wand out in front of him.
The flash of dark purple light, radiating with powerful, dark magic, was suddenly intercepted as a loop of crackling and sizzling white electricity enveloped it. This whip of electricity, which surrounded the flash of purple, seared into the very air, the smell of ozone filling the nostrils of the nearby Azkaban Guard, tingles running down their backs. Harry brandished his crackling whip, flicking it back over the heads of the Order members, who were hurriedly repairing their walls, and slapping it down towards one of the security desk. The hissing and spluttering coil of lightning left the tip of his wand, still enveloped around the powerful destruction curse, and slammed into the desk. Instantly, it flared in a burst of intense purple and blue light, and Harry had to squint and lean onto the barrier in front of him as an explosion tore through the room, the ground rumbling ominously. The power of his whip of restrained bolts of lightning, combined with the sheer destructive power of the trapped flash of purple light, pierced the protective wards on the security desk, which was suddenly blown apart by a powerful force. The Azkaban Guard instantly sent volleys of shimmering magic towards the splintered and ruined desk and towards the suddenly exposed Aurors, who were jerked, tumbled and slapped aside as they were struck by a multitude of curses, most tumbling to the ground in the throes of death.
As the rank of Azkaban Guard turned their attention to the last security desk, a constant hail of coloured curses striking upon the shimmering, translucent barrier that protected the last of the Aurors, Harry took a deep breath and jumped over the barrier, landing in a crouch. As he rose, he concentrated with grim determination and flicked his wand in a series of quick but complicated movements.
"Mallus Custodiet!" He muttered softly but with feeling. The tip of his wand, which was aimed at the last security desk, suddenly glowed with a dim red light while directly in front of the desk, the air contorted and glowed as a blazing ruby energy formed together, twisting and weaving madly until it had formed a crude representation of a hammer.
Harry lifted his wand and slammed it down and in front of him, the glowing hammer of energy moved with the wand, rising upwards and slamming down onto the wards, which shimmered and flickered at the blow. Harry continued his movements, the tip of his wand flaring with a bright red light as the hammer struck again the wards again, again and again. The protective wards around the security desk shimmered under each powerful blow, flickering weakly as it was drained of its power. After a dozen or so blows from the hammer, the wards suddenly splintered and broke apart in a noise resembling a shower of tinkling glass, fading away in a soft throb of light.
"Now!" Harry roared to the Azkaban Guard, gesturing towards the security desk with his wand. From behind him, his soldiers instantly obeyed him and another barrage of blinding pillars of light and cascading waves of magic zoomed towards the vulnerable security desk, pounding away at the now-frail structure. The desk collapsed under the powerful explosions and disappeared under a flare of bright light, flames spurting from underneath it as it was torn apart. The Aurors and Death Eaters behind the desk might have tried to get away from it but the entire area suddenly disappeared under a column of fiery red, purple and black flames as the ground rumbled once more. The flames died away quickly as the magic of the spells evaporated away and the atrium quickly fell silent as the last of its guards were killed and the sounds of battle stopped.
Harry grimly surveyed and assessed the silver-wrought gates leading out of the atrium, knowing that it would take much more effort to bring them down as he did the security desks, as well as a certain amount of time that he frankly, did not have. Harry turned back to the awaiting Azkaban Guard, who eyed him with an expectant look in their eyes as they awaited his final orders.
"Ron, Kingsley, you'll come with me," Harry begun softly, although his voice somehow drifted through the large atrium. "Jordan, Bowden, I want you to concentrate our defence here. The Aurors will arrive shortly and in great numbers. Hermione, Neville, I want you to continually maintain those walls. They may be the only cover you have when the Aurors arrive in force. Ginny, Luna, I want you to distribute Healing Potions and heal the wounded. You'll need every wand."
"Sir, with those fireplaces there, we're going to be attacked from all sides," Jordan remarked quietly, but not in protest.
Harry let a cold grim smile come over his face as he assessed the fireplaces on the left and right and raised his wand. Although he uttered no words, the tip of his wand suddenly pulsed with an eerie fiery light, as if an entire bonfire had been compressed into wooden rod. A wave of heat seemed to wash over the Atrium as Harry concentrated, his eyes narrowed in thought, and just when it seemed that the heat was increasing to the point of painful, Harry swished his wand. Two shimmering ribbons of scarlet and orange light flittered through the air as it flew towards the fireplaces, diving into the stone along the entire expanse of the hall. Another wave of heat shot through the atrium as a dull, red line, looking much like paint, appeared no less than a metre away from all the fireplaces from both sides of the room.
"The Aurors will come here, with or without the fireplaces," Harry said quietly as he lowered his wand. "By doing it this way, we can lure them into a trap."
Jordan nodded slowly, eying the red lines splayed out across the ground with a look of bemusement, but Hermione and a few others seemed to have recognised the curse he had just set with dawning expressions of realization.
"Hermione, it will also be your responsibility to support that curse as long as it is possible," Harry said quietly. Hermione nodded quickly as he continued. "Eventually, it will be broken. Make it last as long as possible."
"Of course," Hermione agreed instantly.
Harry made a gesturing noise to Ron and Kingsley and eyed the silver-wrought gates in front of him, narrowing his eyes in speculation. He heard the rustling of robes as Ron and Kingsley jumped over the granite barrier and wordlessly approached him and as he was about to approach the gates, a voice from behind him halted him.
"We'll hold until you return," Jordan said softly from behind him,
Harry wordlessly glanced from over his shoulder, his eyes roaming the determined and unafraid Azkaban Guard, who had lined up behind their barricades and were watching him leave with a mixture of apprehension, sadness, appreciation and belief- belief that he could do what he had claimed.
"I know," was all he said with a small smile of appreciate curve his lips.
Suddenly a piercing alarm started to wail through the atrium and the Ministry. Harry winced and turned to the silvery gates, raising his wand and concentrating very carefully as muttered a long Latin incantation. A glowing white light pulsed from the tip of his wand, swirling around him in a lazy spiral motion as it enveloped his form and branching off to encompass Ron and Kingsley. Harry's eyes were closed as he moved forward and he quickly tucked his wand behind his ear, before he grabbed one Ron and Kingsley's hands and strode forward. He continued to wordlessly channel the spell as he approached the silver-wrought gates. Because Harry's eyes were shut, he didn't see the translucent barrier that suddenly shimmered around the large, silver-wrought gates as they strained against the three people trying to penetrate them. But the glowing and pulsing white light had formed an aura around the group, which struggled with the wards, and Harry easily stepped into and through them. As soon as they were past the gates, the glowing light faded away and Harry opened his piercing green eyes, the last remnants of lingering magic still flowing through him as he let go of the hands and took up his wand from behind his ear.
The alarm continued to blare loudly as Harry, Ron and Kingsley moved away from the gates, away from the rest of the Order of Phoenix, and down a short hallway. At the end, six elevator doors had been built into the walls and the indicator above them, a smoky ball of grey light that contained a number, were all decreasing to zero, this floor. Reinforcements were already on their way. Harry reached these elevators and flicked his wand in a subtle manner, tapping himself in various places as he murmured a phrase. His body suddenly shimmered and faded from sight just as the first of the elevators reached the atrium floor. Ron and Kingsley took a step back, their wands rising as the doors begun to open, but something radiating an icy-coldness suddenly clasped their arms.
Instantly, they shivered as a wave of icy chills swept over them, trickling over their entire bodies in an instant, just as the first Aurors emerged from the elevators. Each elevator was packed to the brim with the blue-robed wizards and witches and approximately seventy of them rushed forward, straight towards them. Ron let his eyes widen and tried to pull of the cold grip of Harry, but the clasping hand tightened and Ron felt another peculiar sensation flood through him. He suddenly felt as if he just lost a lot of weight and then flinched as an Auror unknowingly charged at his invisible form. However, the running man simply dove straight through him and Ron started in surprise, before he was dragged through the crowd of Aurors, who felt nothing more than an icy chill run down their spines. Had any of them been more advanced in the magical arts then they would have paid more attention to the feeling, but they dismissed it easily as they charged down the hallway, their wands levelled, and the sounds of the battle started up again as the first Aurors attacked the defending members of the Order of Phoenix.
Meanwhile, Ron and Kingsley were dragged into an empty elevator just as the doors were closing. As soon as they did, the icy and weightless feeling Ron had been feeling suddenly disappeared as he shimmered back into view, his body re-substantiating and become solid once more. He shook his head dazedly, noticing Kingsley doing the same, while Harry, who looked unruffled and unaffected, pressed one of the antiquated buttons on the elevator.
"We're really doing this," Ron muttered softly to himself as he took a deep breath, while Kingsley stretched out his muscles, cracking his head into place as he prepared himself for what lay ahead.
"Yes," Harry answered with a stony face, but his eyes gleamed in anticipation. "Our next stop is the Department of Mysteries. Voldemort's quarters are reportedly near that location and we'll be getting information on the way. We find him, I duel him, and I kill him. It's as easy as that."
"I wouldn't say easy," Ron said slowly. "They'll be a lot of guards now that we've caused this ruckus. Are you sure that you'll be able to find him?"
""I'm more powerful than I ever have been before and Voldemort is at his weakest. Voldemort will duel me alone," Harry answered with certainty. "I'm certain of it. I know his mind. The prophecy will end today, one way or another."
"If you say so," Ron sighed, but he gripped his wand tighter as the elevator descended with a series of loud jangles and clanks. Despite his reservations, he would once again stand by Harry as he always had, and Ron begun to quickly review his most powerful spells in his head. He had a feeling that he would need them all very shortly.
The elevator doors opened with a loud whirring noise and Harry was the first to step out into the corridor, his wand held high. Flickering torches had been bolted to the walls and the light that emanated from them cast an eerie glow in the shadowy corridor. The walls were bare; there were no windows or doors save for one on the right, towards the very end of the long corridor. Towards the left and down the stairs, Harry remembered with startling clarity, lay the deep and secure courtrooms.
"Hey, what's happening?" Somebody called out loudly as emerged from the stairs from the left. Harry swung his head, his eyes gleaming dangerously in the flickering torchlight as he quickly scanned the approaching wizards, at least five of them. They were not wearing the robes of the Auror but rather the robes of the standard Magical Law Enforcement officers. In other words, they were security guards.
"Hang on, you're…" One of the wizards, a chubby man with a gleaming black moustache started, before his face paled, his eyes went wide and his mouth wordlessly opened and closed in fear. "B-But…W-what...I can't…"
The other guards seemed to be just as transfixed and frozen with fear as the first and when Harry easily swiped his wand with a wordless Petrificus Totalus, the entire ground were caught off guard as they binding magic snapped their legs and arms together, their wands falling from their suddenly loose hands as they toppled to the ground in a big heap. An instant later, a coil of ropes snapped around each of them, locking them even closer together. Only their eyes were able to move, darting frantically in fear as Harry regarded them for another second before dismissing them.
The alarm continued to blare, although it was very hard to hear this deep in the Ministry, and Harry turned back to the small, black door at the end of the corridor, eyeing it without emotion. As Harry, Ron and Kingsley silently approached it, walking down the long corridor and leaving the bound guards behind, it suddenly opened as six Aurors burst from it, slamming it shut just as quickly. All of them were talking quickly and loudly to each other but they suddenly stopped as they saw the three figures approaching them, unable to identify them in the darkened corridor.
"Hey, this area's been closed off!" One of them shouted in annoyance. "And the Order of Phoenix is here! Get back up to your department and…"
He was interrupted as a powerful force suddenly grabbed his ankle. He let out a strangled yell of fear as he was suddenly flipped upside down by this invisible force, a yell that was echoed by his team as they suffered the same fate. They dangled over the ground for a split-second, before they were suddenly thrown into the corridor wall, and a series of cracks, crunches and cries of pain filled the air. Suddenly, the group of Aurors was hurled away from the door and down the corridor with great force, passing the three figures, one who was idly flicking his wand. One of the Aurors, they who had shouted, managed to catch a glimpse of the lead figure and piercing green eyes met his own. Just as the knowledge of who that wizard really was entered his mind, the group slammed roughly into ground and the Auror's mind went dark as he was knocked out.
Harry eyed the fallen Aurors, noting that one or two of them were still twitching with groans of pain but like the security guards, he dismissed their broken bodies and turned back to the small, black door. Suddenly, diving in from the roof and ignoring the solid rock that stood in its path, a silvery misty streak of light slowly hovered down to Harry. Harry allowed a twitch of a smile to ghost his lips as he reached out and touched the messaging spell with his left hand. The silvery mist suddenly shot inside of him and just as if she had been standing next to him, Harry's spy whispered a message into his ear.
"The Dark Lord has left his private rooms and will be entering the corridor outside of the Department of Mysteries in a matter of seconds. If you are not there by now, then hurry!"
"What was that?" Kingsley asked in his deep baritone.
Harry opened his mouth to reply when the small black door swung open once more and three figures stepped out. Two of them were Death Eaters but unlike other Death Eaters, they were dressed in black robes with a silvery-green trim. Their masks were not white but pure silver and they slim wooden staff. Each staff had a gemstone at the tip, which glowed with flickering chaotic and dark power. The eyes behind the masks were blank and dull as they regarded Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Kingsley Shackelbolt, three powerful and deadly wizards, without a hint of fear or apprehension. They were Voldemort's personal guard, his most trusted Death Eaters. Their minds had been ruthlessly stripped away, their personalities shattered and broken. All they knew was that they lived and died at the Dark Lord's command.
However, it was the figure behind the two Death Eaters that garnered the most attention. Lord Voldemort, his crimson eyes gleaming with anger and satisfaction, his pale and thin form clad in the darkest of robes, his spindly fingers idly tapping his wand. A silvery locket, ornate in design, hung from Voldemort's neck and the wicked raw scar Harry had given him in Azkaban still remained. For a moment, piercing green eyes met gleaming crimson and nobody moved an inch. Finally, without any more hesitation or talk, Lord Voldemort, ruler of the Isles, Lord of the Ministry of Magic and perhaps one of the most powerful dark wizards in history, gestured to Ron and Kingsley, his crimson eyes flaring with power.
"Kill the spares," He hissed coldly, his eyes never leaving Harry's. The two Death Eaters beside him obediently moved forward, raising their staffs menacingly. Dark magic cackled at the gemstones, arcs of ebony, silver and violet hissing and spluttering as Ron and Kingsley took one quick look towards their leader. Harry gave a short and sharp nod and without a moment's hesitation, the two Order members jumped forward, their wands flicking through the air. The Death Eaters moved with an unnatural grace, sidestepping simultaneously and jabbing forward with their staffs. Dark magic roared with power as it lanced through the air, but it was deflected by a hastily conjured corporeal shield. Ron buckled back under the blow while Kingsley, moving with far more speed than one would have thought possible, ducked, letting the powerful blast of magic shatter the stone in the wall behind him before recommencing his duel as his wand let loose a fiery jet of glistening magic, which the Death Eater blocked with a swipe of his staff.
"Your friends will die," Voldemort remarked coldly, his high-pitch voice grating with pleasure and his crimson eyes occasionally flickered to the duel behind Harry as the Death Eaters and Order leaders moved down the corridor, their duelling taking large chunks out of the wall. The darkness of the corridor was lit up by hues of many different colours as curses flashed and blasted away towards their opponents, although it was a sickly green that was the most common hue. "They always do."
"They're more capable than you might think," Harry answered softly, his green eyes narrowing as he regarded his rival, his nemesis, his arch-enemy. "And if they're in trouble, I can come back and help them when I'm done with you."
"When you're done with me?" Voldemort asked chillingly, a slight laugh in his voice. However, his crimson eyes were darkening with fury and rage as power flashed through them. "Do you believe that I, Lord Voldemort, will fall so easily?"
"Yes," Harry responded simply, a cold smile spreading across his face. "My powers have never been stronger and your immortality has never been so threatened."
Lord Voldemort let his fury and anger roar through him, the chaotic and dark nature of his magic searing into his veins. He unconsciously bared his sharp, pointy teeth, one hand idly caressing his last Horcrux.
"So, your intention is to defeat me," He said softly but coldly. "I had been led to believe that you were seeking new fortifications."
"Say, Hogwarts, perhaps?" Harry asked, the innocence laced in his voice mingling quite badly with the triumph.
"My, my," Voldemort uttered softly, anger flickering through his face. "You have done this properly. Tell me, Harry, who is the ever-elusive spy that has managed to deceive me?"
Harry merely smiled and didn't say a word as he levelled his wand and power suddenly warped around his strong frame, ruffling his dark hair and his long, black cloak. Lord Voldemort let his own dark powers twist through his sickly-looking frame, an aura of danger and menace suddenly appearing around his frame. With a casual ease that belied the very importance of the situation, Voldemort withdrew his wand and held it aloft. The duel of the century was about to begin.
"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort roared with great anger, his crimson eyes flaring as he let his dark powers flow through his wand. A flash of sickly green light burst from his wand, accompanied by the noise of a loud roaring wind, but Harry sidestepped it, his emerald eyes glittering furiously as he lunged forward with his wand.
Flagrate vires! Harry mentally commanded and the tip of his wand suddenly glowed in a powerful ruby light as he closed the distance between Voldemort, jabbing it at him furiously. Voldemort swiped his wand up; something silver flashed through the air as he parried the curse and the wall next to him was suddenly gouged, molten rock dripping to the ground as the rock was parted by a red-hot and fiery force of immense power.
Voldemort flicked his wand towards Harry and a blast of something sickly-brown and yellow, accompanied by the putrid smell of death and decay, burst from his wand, only to be met with a glimmering globe of solid azure magic that enveloped Harry's form for a brief second. The putrid brown curse exploded in a shower of dark sparks that seared into the stone as they fell to the ground, while Harry lashed out with his wand, a silvery arc of magic slicing through the air with the speed of a bullet. Voldemort, however, deflected it aside with ease and it sliced into the ground, ripping up stone and dust.
"Avada Kedavra!" Harry growled with repressed hatred, his wand flicking towards Voldemort, however, the Dark Lord closed the small distance between them and physically parried Harry's wand aside with his own wand. The coil of deathly green light struck into the wall, blowing a small chunk of stone out with a flash of intense green light. Harry tried to backpedal away from Voldemort, his wand flicking furiously in the air, but Voldemort pressed on, his crimson eyes gleaming with pleasure.
Together, Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter duelled as if they carried swords, not wands, circling each other as they parried and lunged. Slim wooden rods slammed together, sparks jettisoning from the tips as curses were half-formed and deflected. A fiery streak of magic was pushed aside by Voldemort while Harry brushed away a shimmering orange bolt of magic, thrusting forward with his wand to deliver a striking jet of blinding white magic. Voldemort took a step backwards and suddenly a large corporeal shield of silver and green with a visage of two entwined serpents appeared. The blinding streak of magic struck upon it and dissipated away as Voldemort flicked his wand sharply.
"Kurosucide!" He spat out with feeling. Harry's eyes widened and he took a step backwards, his wand flying up with a serpensortia as a powerful flash of frenzied and twisting coils of magic burst form Voldemort's wand. A conjured python snake, over five feet long, flew through the air towards the flash of power and as it was struck, disappeared in a burst of gore and blood, most of its body instantly vapourised.
"Iaculum Mortis!" Harry returned and a glittering black curse formed in the shape of a spear burst from the tip of his wand. Voldemort immediately threw his conjured shield towards the approaching curse, which buckled, cracked and snapped under the powerful pressure of the spell, before he swiped his wand up with deadly accuracy and severed the 'spear' into two with a flash of silver light. The curse fell apart, magic unbinding and dissipating, as Harry continued on with his attack, a deadly jet of green light streaking past Voldemort's head, missing by a few centimetres as the Dark Lord sidestepped, his crimson eyes flaring angrily.
"Citivolus cultellus!" Voldemort hissed coldly, his wand flicking through a series of quick motions. Harry took a step backwards, his wand flicking through the air as he sent another jet of deathly green magic towards Voldemort, who merely sidestepped, while Harry quickly threw out a little wooden figurine resembling a lion. With a quick, subtle flick, the wooden lion was suddenly enlarged and brought to life, colour rushing through its form just as the Voldemort completed his spell. Instantly, the grey blobs of colour appeared in the air, over two dozen of them, and they quickly morphed into wicked-looking daggers that surrounded Voldemort. The lion charged at Voldemort, only to be caught in a whirlwind aura of daggers that hacked and slashed at the giant feline, slicing into its flesh as if it were paper. The mangled and bloody corpse of the lion fell to the ground an instant later as Voldemort advanced on Harry, who held his wand upright.
The air surrounding Harry suddenly rippled as small pockets of air started roaring furiously with wind, a maze of airflows and currents that pushed out in every direction. As Voldemort advanced on Harry, the daggers that zoomed in to slice open the green-eye wizard suddenly wobbled uncontrollable and veered in opposite directions, slicing through the stone with ease and embedding themselves in the wall and floor. Harry levelled his wand at the approaching Dark Lord and uttered the killing curse with anger as the daggers continued to try and bombard him under the direction of Voldemort's wand. However, Voldemort immediately cancelled and dispelled the spell and launched his own jet of green light towards his nemesis. The two spells flashed through the air with an eerie glow and collided with each other, but there was no resulting explosion as they simply shot through the other and towards their opponents, who identically sidestepped. The Killing Curse had no magical counter, not even itself.
Harry's killing curse, missing Voldemort, struck along the side wall and took out a small chunk of stone, but Voldemort's killing curse zoomed over Harry's shoulder and struck the small black door leading into the Department of Mysteries. The door trembled underneath the power of the spell and was blown off its hinges with great force, revealing a large circular room. The walls and floor were made of black marble and several doors, identical to the one that had just been blown off its hinges, could be seen inside. Harry ducked into the circular room to avoid a circling bolt of icy-white magic that sparkled in the darkened corridor and was closely followed by Voldemort, whose red eyes gleamed as he entered.
Harry immediately flicked his wand towards Voldemort and a roaring beam of light burned through the air, scorching the dark marble ground as it shot out of his wand. Voldemort slashed his wand towards it with great force, enough to make Harry's skin tingle, and the beam parted around Voldemort, soaring past him to slam into the walls behind the Dark Lord. There was a noise similar to a sonic boom as the doors buckled, strained and shot backwards with great force. The walls cracked, tearing away at the marble and the room rumbled, protesting in vain against the force it had just been placed under.
Suddenly, the broken door flew from the ground, the wooden shards sliding back together and slamming back down on the hinges. Harry quickly darted his eyes to the door in surprise, just as the walls started blurring. The chain of candles, burning with blue flames, became streaks of blue as the room circled and circled. As it did, Harry had to stagger back and lean on the wall as a wave of dizziness washed over him. But Voldemort kept his balance, stepping forward in a movement alike to a striking serpent, his wand flicking back and forward as he conjured a sparkling yellow orb, no larger than a marble. He hurled this orb at Harry, who in a moment of dizziness, lurched to the right. The sparkling orb slapped against the marble with a deafening roar despite its size and the room trembled as it spun, the torches flickering madly as they shuddered. An odd groaning noise, as if something were being torn of its hinges, filled the room, but it faded away quickly and despite the after-effects of the spell, the marble wall remained whole, gleaming underneath the blue light.
Harry brandished his wand, struggling to stay upright, his eyes narrowed as he realised that he had just walked into a trap, a trap that Voldemort seemed to be immune from. A silvery streak of light filled the room, there was a bang like a gunshot, and dust flittered from the ceilings and walls as the light washed away the darkness, the room trembling underneath its power. But when the light faded, Voldemort stood amongst the settling dust without as much as a scratch, although his crimson eyes were flaring with power and anger. On the other hand, Harry was looking decidedly ill as the room circled faster and faster, one of is hands clutched to his head as dizziness and nausea pounded into him. A great force seemed to be pressing down on his body and at times it almost lifted him from his feet and sent him hurtling into one of the walls.
"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort hissed in triumph, his wand levelled at Harry, who blearily looked up as a coil of bright green light approached him. He took a staggered step back, his wand flicking as he tried to conjure something to block the spell, to deflect it, anything at all! Just when it seemed too late, when the curse was nearly upon him, the room lurched again as its speed increased and Harry was thrown off his feet, slamming into one of the marble walls. However, the Avada Kedavra curse missed him and struck at the dark, marble floor as Harry jumped up, staggering to the right as another coil of green light struck the marble wall just next to him. Harry responded by brandishing his wand as if it were a whip, a fiery coil of blazing red and gold magic ready to strike upon Voldemort, but the room lurched once more and the coil dissipated as Harry's mental control over the spell was lost.
Voldemort seemed to be smiling in triumph, his face etched with victory and satisfaction. The Dark Lord raised his wand once more but Harry had once again thrown out a small wooden figurine, a horse this time, and with a quick flick, had enlarged and transfigured it into a live creature. The horse neighed in fury as it launched itself at Voldemort but the speed the room was circling was apparently too great for it and it slammed into one of the walls, bones snapping as it shrieked in agony. It fell limp as Voldemort slashed his wand an instant later, a silver arc of magic gouging at its throat and spilling its lifeblood to the ground. With a soft shimmer, the horse reverted back to its enlarged wooden self, which promptly shot from the ground and towards Voldemort as Harry, with great effort, swished his wand. Voldemort uttered a single, hard word and the wooden figurine exploded in a fiery rain of wooden shards.
Harry, however, had inadvertently stumbled to the centre of the room, his green eyes dazed. Suddenly a brief flash of insight shoved itself into his mind and Harry raised his wand with a bellow, pouring his power and concentration into the next spell. A fiery roaring orb of red and gold burst from his wand, expanding and circling Harry as it enveloped his form, covering his entire body with its flames. Harry felt nothing but a warm tingle over his sickness as the fiery aura that surrounded him shimmered with suppressed heat, loops of flame circling his entire body. As Voldemort uttered the first word of the killing curse, a single small missile of flame shot from the aura towards him, and he wordlessly sidestepped, just as an entire wave of fiery missiles emanated from the aura of flames surrounding Harry.
Voldemort growled in anger and instead summoned a sparkling globe of bronze magic to completely envelop his form, deflecting the spluttering and hissing fiery missiles with ease. However, with the room circling as fast as it was, it quickly caused chaos to ensue as the fiery missiles shot through the air, reflecting off the marble surfaces as they were pulled and dragged off their trajectories. The dark marble seemed to glitter with red and gold as the room soon became engulfed in roaring flames, fed on by the intense air currents, the continual barrage of fiery missiles from Harry's scorching red and gold aura only making the problem worse. Voldemort struggled to see past the flames, his wand flicking as he tried to part the fiery air, his crimson eyes flaring in rage.
The first part of Harry's plan complete, he dropped his fiery aura while simultaneously applying a modified flame-freezing charm on himself and the searing heat suddenly became cool and pleasant. The fire in the air immediately began to die down as its source disappeared but there was still enough of it to hide Harry's actions. Even though his vision was obscured by flames, Harry, with great effort and despite his nauseas, staggered blindly ahead until he struck one of the marble walls. He frantically used his spare hand to pat down the wall, searching for wood, for a door, for any door. Relief washed over him his hand touched cold wood, despite the flames, and he quickly brought his wand to the door. A flash of dark purple blasted from the tip, almost hidden in the flames, and slammed against the door with great force, vapourising the wood underneath the power of the spell. Now only an empty doorway, Harry pushed himself closer and closer to it, his eyes making and a dizzy blur of black marble with the occasional flash of light, revealing a room of some sort. With a deep breath, Harry quickly timed it took for the flash to appear and after another whirling rotation, pushed himself out of the circling room and into the doorframe, to temporary safety.
As soon as Harry had hurled himself from the circling room, he caught a glimpse of a large room with lamps hanging on golden chains from the ceiling, of a series of desks, of a large tank filled with green water, before he was suddenly hurtled forward at great speeds. This, however, gave him the chance to flick his wand at himself and Harry suddenly felt himself slow down as he hovered down to ground, before he collapsed in a shaking and nauseating heap. The dizziness, however, was gone and Harry suddenly felt a lot better as he jumped to his feet, his wand clasped tightly in his hand.
But the room was empty of all other wizards or witches and Harry quickly took the time to reach into his robes, pulling out a small potion vial. He downed the first, an ordinary Pepper-Up potion, and sighed in relief as they last throbs and aches of his time in the circular room were washed away by a heated sensation that started in the pit of his stomach and quickly worked its way through his entire body. Harry dropped the vial to the ground and turned around, taking a better look at his surroundings. There were three small black doors on the other side of the room whilst an empty doorframe stood before him. Harry could only make out a black blur and the occasional flash of fiery light as they room continued to spin, although it seemed to be slowing down. In the room, there were several rows of desks, sprawled out parchment littering the tops, but it was the tank full of green water in the centre of the room that captured his attention.
Long ago, the tank had held a pearly-white brains that had swum lazily throughout the pulsing green liquid. These days, with the Ministry under Voldemort's control, the tank still contained swimming objects, but they were far more horrific that mere brains. Harry watched with a fascinated horror as a young baby, no older than a few weeks, swum through the tanks. The baby seemingly sensing that it was being watched and turned to him, smiling wickedly to reveal sharp, glittery teeth. Its eyes suddenly flared with an odd crimson light and its tongue shot from its mouth like a lizard, striking the glass with a dull thump. It wordlessly snarled at him, swiping through the water with sharp claws, before swimming away while using its webbed feet as flippers and disappearing into the green. Another baby swam close to the edge, its entire body covered with a set of thick scales and a tiny tail emerging from its back, before it disappeared into the green depths of liquid likes its companion.
"Merlin, what have you done, Voldemort?" Harry whispered to himself in shock. Suddenly he heard an odd clanging noise and he whirled around, his wand rising in a flash. The empty doorframe revealed only a motionless black marble wall. The circular room had stopped spinning at a different room and Harry frowned in puzzlement, before realisation flooded his face and he spun around just as one of the doors exploded. There was great splintering and cracking, the wooden fragments falling loosely to the ground as Lord Voldemort stepped into the room, his pale face tight with anger, and his crimson eyes flaring with power.
"Avada Kedavra!" Harry muttered furiously, flicking his wand at Voldemort's direction. The coil of green magic roared towards him with the power of an invisible wind but the Dark Lord smoothly sidestepped, allowing the killing curse to zoom over his shoulder, before he stepped forward, magic flaring at the tip of his wand as he conjured a cone of arctic-white ice. The cone, so cold that the very air around it solidified into tiny droplets of water, shot towards Harry but was instantly liquefied as an invisible wave of searing heat burst from the tip of Harry's wand, which glowed with an intense yellow light.
Arcessio! Harry mentally commanded and his swept his wand out in a single, grand flourish. The nearby desks and chairs suddenly trembled with strain as they were dragged through the air by a powerful force. Seven large, wooden and heavy desks flew towards Voldemort, who tapped himself with his wand. As they converged on Voldemort, a partially-invisible shockwave distorted the air, emanating from Voldemort's very figure. The desks were thrown backwards with great force, slamming into the ground and smashing apart in an ear-splitting round of cracks. However, under Harry's wand and mental command, another row of heave desks flew from the ground, flipping over and depositing their items onto the ground, and shooting towards Voldemort, whose arm became a blur as he magically batted each desk away, the mahogany tables slamming into the ground or the wall, or exploding with a shower of wooden splinters and flickering flames. However, one of the desks slipped past his furious wand-waving and under the mental direction of Harry, slammed into exposed right arm.
Voldemort immediately let out a high-pitched shriek of pain, his shrill voice echoing in the large room as the heavy desk, easily weighing in the hundreds of kilograms, shattered and crumbled away on his right arm. However, what would have thrown a normal human being backwards and most likely snapped off their arm did little but cause Voldemort to stagger backwards, a loud snapping noise indicating that his arm had been broken. In a blast of furious dark magic, the next seven desks were suddenly obliterated in a cascading wave of dark energy as Voldemort jumped backwards, his wand flicking through a series of motions.
"Avada Kedavra!" Harry muttered once again, praying that the killing curse would strike his rival and this war once and for all. But Voldemort merely growled in anger, his right arm bent at an unnatural angle, gleaming white bone sticking out as dark red, almost a black ooze, blood poured from his wound, and flicked his wand sharply. Magic soared through the air as one of the many ruined and shattered wooden desks around him shot into the air, diving in front of Voldemort and taking the brunt of the killing curse, exploding into flickering green flames and falling to the ground.
Harry, never undeterred, once again threw out a handful of wooden figurines, and with a single wave of his wand, enlarged and transfigured them into living flesh. Two screeching eagles, three cackling hyenas and one small African elephant stampeded towards Voldemort. The ground rumbled underneath every step as the elephant quickly closed the distance towards Voldemort, trumpeting loudly.
"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort hissed out, his arm still leaking blood, and a green flash of light was all it took as the elephant lifelessly collapsed to the ground. The ground shuddered as the bulky creature smashed down onto it, shimmering and morphing back to its original wooden state, but the three yellow and black hyena's jumped over the wooden idol as they pounced towards Voldemort, who had sidestepped to avoid a deadly coil of bright green magic, Harry's latest attack.
"Vercundus!" Voldemort hissed with power and raised his wand. As the first hyena approached, magic sparkled and shimmered around the tip of his wand and suddenly a solid ball of pure azure magic sparkled into existence. The glowing ball of pure magic suddenly distorted as a rows of large and deadly spikes of flickering crimson shot out from it, just as Voldemort swung his wand at the nearest hyena. The beast was struck in the head with the mace-like wand and made no noise as the sparkling magic dug into his thick skull without any effort at all, crushing the head and killing the beast with single, powerful blow. Voldemort swung the mace-wand around again, catching one of the beasts in its lightly furred stomach and opening its innards, while simultaneously banishing a nearby cracked and splintered desk towards another incoming Avada Kedavra curse. The third hyena, seeing the fate of its kin, desperately tried to stop its impending attack but Voldemort lunged forward and bashed it across the spine, watching with a perverse pleasure as the cat-like beast was literally torn into two. His crimson eyes gleamed as he glanced up towards Harry, who was in the middle of another incantation, and he raised his mace-wand. With a not-so-subtle flick, Voldemort flicked his wand towards Harry.
Harry paused in his incantation as the unknown orb of magic which had just crushed three hyenas without any effort suddenly shot towards him with great speed. With a single wordless incantation, Harry swiped his wand downward, leaving a shimmering wave of sparkling pure white magic that spread out to form a solid wall of glistening glowing particles in front of him. The zooming orb struck the glowing white shield, the very force of the spell knocked Harry off his feet with great force. He could feel himself flying backwards, his furious emerald eyes making contact with Voldemort's crimson eyes as his back hit something wooden, something brittle, which shattered. Harry winced in pain as agony swept through the lower section of his back and he continued flying through the air, the last remnants of a small black door sliding away from him. The last thing he saw was Voldemort pressing the jutting bone back into his injured arm with a hiss of pain before he began to descend and the room with the glowing green tank left his sight.
"Occia!" Harry muttered as he fell, pouring his magic into the spell as he levelled his wand at the roof. He felt a rare flash of panic surge through him as he twisted and tumbled through the air, grey stone filling his vision. Gravity met and fought against Harry's spell, each involving powerful forces, but Harry's spell quickly triumphed and he was quickly slowing down. After one last twist to get him on his feet, he landed on grey stone, biting his lip to stifle the cry of pain as agony flared up in his lower back. He grimaced in pain and tapped his head with his wand, muttering something faintly lyrical. Golden light seeped into his body, filling his veins with pleasurable warmth and the pain in his lower back, while not disappearing, faded into a barely noticeable throb.
It was then that Harry noticed the almost-silent whispers and he swung his head to glance at his surroundings, his eyes widening as he realised what room he had just crashed into. He was standing in the middle of what seemed like an amphitheatre, with ancient stone circling around the room and descending in steep steps towards a raised stone dais, where an ancient and crumbling archway stood. The archway was hung with a tattered black curtain or veil that fluttered ever-so-slightly. Harry stared at the veil as if transfixed as it whispered to him, small, soft murmurs that he could not hear properly but nonetheless soothed him. He shook his head as if to clear away the daze and strengthened his Occlumency shields, but it had no effect on the murmurs and whispers.
Suddenly, Harry noticed Voldemort stepping out from the other side of the room, walking over the broken and splintered remains of the small black door. His arm, although bloodstained, appeared to have healed perfectly in the several seconds Harry and Voldemort had been apart. Crimson eyes flashed around the room, locking onto piercing emerald eyes with malice and hatred. Two wands were raised in unison as Harry and Voldemort muttered incantations under their breaths, drawing in their magic and their immense powers as they prepared to duel once more.
Voldemort didn't say a word but, using the great distance to his advantage, flicked his wand in a series of sweeping movements and short, sharp flicks. He easily sidestepped a killing curse, the green coil of magic flying past him and into the broken doorframe, and his very form glowed with an ominous radiance, black magic cackling around him as his wand glowed with a dark and powerful shine. An orb of pure shadows seeped from his wand and Voldemort let a smile of sickening delight appear on his face, his crimson eyes flaring with dark power as sidestepped another coil of bright green light and hurled the flickering orb of shadows towards Harry.
Harry eyed the orb of darkness that was hurling for him with apprehension, having never seen that spell before. However, the sheer power of the spell, power that was standing Harry's hair on end even with the great distance between them, and the aura of pure darkness were enough to convince him to move and he did, jumping down the stone benches and approaching the stone dais as the shadowy orb flew past his head, crackling and buzzing noisily. Magic darted around it, tendrils sparkling in the air as it suddenly stopped and hovered where Harry had just been standing. Harry quickly dived behind one of the stone blocks as a high-pitch wail suddenly filled the room, mingling it with the suddenly loud mutters and chatter of the veil. He just had time to see Voldemort flick his wand once with great effort before the shadowy orb plunged downwards and hit the ground. There was no shatter, no explosion, no bang, but darkness spread over the area, a chilling and haunting darkness that emanated icy coldness akin to a Dementor. Suddenly flashes of red and silver could be seen in the blackness and there was an unearthly and chilling loud screeching. The ground trembled, stone shifting and vibrating as something pounded into the ground again and again.
The darkness fled as suddenly as it appeared and Harry jumped up from behind the stone bench, noting Voldemort stagger back, a slight weariness on his face. He took a quick glance behind him as his blood chilled as he realised just how close to death he had come. There was a large crater where the shadowy orb had struck, molten rock and steam hissing and spluttering as it cooled. Large cracks had been ripped through the ground, tearing up stone and earth, and something had sliced away at seven rows of stone benches, severing them completely in half. One of these cracks had ripped through the stone and stopped only two benches away from the one Harry had been hiding behind. Harry darted his eyes back to Voldemort, who appeared to have shaken his tiredness off, and his face hardened, his lips moving silently as he recited a powerful incantation. Meanwhile, Voldemort focused his complete attention back towards Harry and his crimson eyes widened as he noted the complex wand movements Harry was performing.
Harry finished an instant later and swept his wand in a broad and powerful gesture. A blinding light flared up as torrents and streams of white and gold magic lanced through the air in a rush of magical power. Raw magic radiated from the pure spell and Harry could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up as the blinding flash of golden and white light zoomed towards Voldemort. As the torrents of magic raced on, flickering and shining brightly, Voldemort darted his head sideways and with speed and strength unnatural to his pasty and thin form, he jumped down over five benches and landed on his feet as the golden torrent of magic struck where he had just been standing. Suddenly, white and golden blinding light filled the room with an eerie wail the ground rumbled once more, shuddering underneath the strain of yet another powerful curse. The light faded away and Voldemort couldn't help but glance backwards, noting how the stone walls and benches were black with charcoal and riddled with thousands of tiny hairline cracks.
Harry frowned as the mutters and murmurs increased in volume and intensity, shaking his head dazedly as he levelled his wand at Voldemort, a killing curse easily shooting from his wand. As Voldemort easily sidestepped the green coil of magic, his pointy teeth revealed menacingly as he continued descending the stone benches, Harry shook his head again, wiping his forehead as one of the voices suddenly screamed something and he flicked his wand towards a murky orange arc of glittering magic that was approaching. The murky orange colour of the curse was suddenly awash with blue and white, which throbbed through the arc as the curse fell to the ground as if it were a physical object. It struck the stone and shattered into many pieces as the curse, now ice, lost its potency.
The voices were getting louder and louder as Harry approached the stone dais, where Voldemort had just arrived and he struggled to contain them. His Occlumency was of no use, they voices somehow managed to slip around them in a way that not even Voldemort was capable of. Voldemort did not look to be affected, his crimson eyes flared with hatred and clarity, his wand flicking through the air as Harry jumped upon the dais. The air around the dais suddenly rippled and condensed, icy shards forming from water vapour and propelled by a powerful wind towards Harry, who conjured a scarlet corporeal shield, the surface glimmering with tightly suppressed heat. The ice melted away as soon as it neared him but his retaliatory spell, a glimmering arc of silver magic, was parried and deflected.
"Atram Noctam!" Voldemort hissed with menace and from his wand came a stream of ribbons made up of black smoke, shooting through the air towards Harry, who gripped his corporeal shield tightly. But they heat and the magical properties of the shield had no effect on the smoky black ribbon, which loosely coiled around him as it poured from Voldemort's wand. Harry darted a look at the smoky coil of ribbon and at Voldemort's triumphant eyes, just as the ribbon touched him as it bound him tightly, shield and all. Where the coil touched him, Harry felt only cold-ice and darkness, his skin shivering madly underneath the powerful dark magic. His mind was awash with negative emotions, despair, sadness, grief, hopelessness, all cascading and bombarding his advanced Occlumency barriers. However, even with them, Harry suddenly had the feeling of drowning in a thick and black liquid and struggled to flick his wand, his mind barely able to concentrate.
With a surge of magic and a small and subtle flick, the oily and black ribbons of smoke that surrounded Harry flared with a white light and Voldemort took a staggered step backwards as his spell was broken, his crimson eyes flaring, as he gathered himself. Harry took a staggered step forward, shaking off the feelings of hopelessness and misery as he ducked on the ancient and crumbling archway, narrowly missing an intense coil of bright green magic. As he leapt out from the archway, his left hand trailed along the rough stone and suddenly, it happened.
The instant Harry's hand touched the archway, something surged into him and the voices screamed in triumph and bloodlust. Harry jerked in surprise and inhaled sharply as something foreign and uninvited tore through him, energy so different and dissimilar to his magic that he could feel every single iota of it crawling within him as if it were a disease. As the unknown energy forced its way through him, Harry did the only thing he knew would get rid of this energy of wrongness, he channelled it into his wand and jerked his hand away from the archway. The very wood of the wand suddenly buckled madly as a grey smoky-looking stream of mist burst from it and its very appearance seemed wrong and unnatural as it burst forward with an eerie silence.
Voldemort, seeing an unknown curse about to strike him and knowing that he lacked the time to move, summoned a powerful dome of cascading bronze magic that enveloped him in an instant. His body lay distorted and warped to Harry's view as the magical shield solidified into a pure block of thick, solid defensive magic. However, the smoky-grey curse slammed against the shield and went straight through it as if it were not there. Voldemort's eyes widened as the smoky-grey mist struck him in the chest and although the mist seemed insubstantial and dissipated immediately, he was thrown off his feet by the powerful force and hurled to the ground, landing painfully as he tumbled and rolled across the stone floor. An instant later, he was back on his feet but his crimson eyes flared dangerously, his slit-like nostrils scenting the air. The magic that Potter had just used, it was something unknown to him and not just as a spell. No, this magic, it was something powerful, intoxicating and smelt absolutely foul to his advanced magical senses and Voldemort felt a tingle of apprehension run through him as he eyed Potter dangerously. What new tricks had his nemesis conjured now?
Harry, however, witness the effectiveness of the unknown magic and eyed the archway carefully, his eyes flicking towards Voldemort, who was watching him with a hint of wariness and a lot of repressed anger and rage. Taking a deep breath, Harry plunged his hand on the archway again and shuddered as the foreign and unclean magic coursed into him, his skin sprouting goosebumps as he touched the filthy stone. The voices grew louder and louder until they seemed to be talking loudly into Harry's ear, a mixture of men and women's voices that jabbered in a language that Harry wasn't familiar with and judging by the hissing, spluttering and clicks, wasn't quite sure existed. The energy pounded into his very being, violently forcing its way through his body. Harry, while keeping a hand on the archway, brandished his wand like a whip and once again channelled the filthy energy. Instead of a fiery coil of blazing magic forming at the tip of his wand, a smoky and grey whip of mist emerged, buzzing with an incomprehensible noise.
Harry flicked it towards Voldemort, who suddenly staggered backwards as his face tinged with disgust and revulsion, and the misty rope of dirty energy flicked through the air and struck down upon Voldemort, who conjured a corporeal shield of silver and green after quickly remembering the effectiveness of pure magic against that apparition. The misty whip struck down upon Voldemort's shield and was deflected with a chilling screeching noise as it gouged long scratches in the metal. The whip flicked down thrice more, the conjured shield cracking and rotting as some unknown and rotting disease swept through it. Voldemort dropped it with disgust as Harry dissipated his whip of mist, his crimson eyes flaring dangerously as he regarded Harry closely.
"What is this?" asked Voldemort furiously, a look of revulsion sweeping over his face with each breath he took. His wand flared with dark powers and with a wordless roar, a streak of rotting brown and sickly yellow magic blasted towards Harry, who allowed the dirty and disgusting energy to surge through him again and grimly forced it into his wand. A blast of grey mist burst from his wand and enveloped the approaching curse, but the dark curse simply parted the mist and dove on, making Harry dive back behind the veil in surprise as he sidestepped away from the curse.
When he looked from out of the archway, Voldemort let his crimson eyes flare as he stared into the eyes of his opponents, but unknown to Harry, misty shadows had clouded his piercing emerald eyes and Voldemort hitched a breath as his attempt at Legillimency struck upon the foul and revolting power. He abruptly pulled his mind back and his eyes narrowed with hatred.
"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort hissed coldly, rage pouring into every fibre of his being. The streak of green light struck the archway, which groaned in protest, but little else happened and Voldemort quickly continued with his spell-casting, his wand flicking upwards as he jabbed it roughly towards Harry and the archway he had hidden behind. A scorching beam of light roared throughout the darkened room, silvery light spilling out into the shadows and lighting up the entire room. Magic soared through the air, powerful, potent and propelled by an immense and conquering will, and the scorching pillar of light struck the archway. The archway shuddered and once again groaned in protest, ancient rock creaking loudly as the pulsing silver light blasted upon it, but once more it held under the powerful curse.
Voldemort narrowed his eyes but quickly sidestepped as Harry stepped from behind the veil, one hand still leaning on the archway as a smoky-grey curse silently soared from his wand, a vapour trail of an oily black substance floating softly through the air. The silent curse blasted upon one of the stone benches and seemed to do little damage, until the stone started crumbling and blackening as it was somehow eaten from the inside, thousands of tiny hairline cracks ripping through it.
Meanwhile, the voices were practically shouting in Harry's ear as he stood behind the archway, his hand resting upon the dirty and filthy stone. The unclean and diseased energy within him soared through his veins as he battled with the loud and demanding voices, some who screamed in bloodlust, others in anger, others in sorrow. The veil was fluttering madly under the power of an unseen wing whilst Voldemort stood beyond the veil and narrowed his eyes calculatedly as he began to whip his wand through the air, his dark powers bending to accommodate his next powerful curse that would most likely obliterate his opponent.
"These powers, they must originate from the Archway of Tartarus," Voldemort remarked coldly, noting Harry's hand pressed against the ancient stone-archway. "My, my, Dumbledore really would be disappointed in you now."
"How so?" Harry called back, straining his ears so he could hear his nemesis over the roaring voices emanating from the veil, the sickly power still surging through him as an uncontrollable wave of energy, fighting against Harry's very being as it sought to escape its mortal confines.
"Harry, you disappoint me with your lack of knowledge," Voldemort said softly, a mocking tone entering his voice. "Surely you know of Tartarus from ancient mythology, a section of the underworld so dark and horrible that only the most wicked and evil people were sent there. Surely you know that ancient Greek wizards built a portal that allowed them to punish the darkest wizards of that day. This archway contains magic of the foulest sort created in one of the most horrifying places in existence. Or, maybe you do not know this."
Harry didn't reply but he knew Voldemort spoke the truth when the voices he had been hearing suddenly hissed with fear at the name of the archway, but he continued to allow the energy of the otherworld to surge into him. The Power-He-Knew-Not, the power that Dumbledore had once told him that it was studied within the Department of Mysteries, continued to surge through his body and he shuddered, his hair standing on end as he gritted his teeth in effort.
"You did not know," Voldemort breathed in realisation once Harry did not answer. His crimson eyes flared with dark delight as he let out a chilling laugh, his high-pitched voice echoing in the large cavernous room, but his wand still continued through its wand movements as dark powers flared up on the tip, the air rippling and warping under the strain. "You came here to defeat me and you have discovered a power that I admit, I do not possess, and you did not know!"
"Oh, I knew," Harry replied grimly, his voice tight with strain. "I just didn't know the details. Tell me Voldemort, do you believe in prophecies?"
Voldemort noticeably stiffened, his crimson eyes suddenly wary as he recalled the last time a prophecy had struck him down, the fateful night that he had been expelled from his body as his own Avada Kedavra backfired onto him. The extremely potent dark magic flaring at the tip of his wand faded away as he took a step back from the veil, his eyes narrowing as caution and hesitation flickered over his face.
"Not usually," Voldemort replied softly, all traces of his mocking humour fleeing from his voice. A note of anger suddenly appeared in his voice as he continued. "However, I am not ignorant of their power, especially when I am concerned."
"What about the prophecy made between us, that is, the entire prophecy," Harry asked, his voice slightly smug in the knowledge that he alone possessed.
Voldemort stood still for an entire second as silence descended in the empty room before icy-cold rage swept over his face and his eyes flared with power.
"No Potter, I will not allow you to do this to me," He said quietly but dangerously. In an instant, he raised his wand and with a broad flourish conjured a dozen serpents of different colours. With another flick of his wand, the serpents hissed menacingly as they grew in size until they stood as tall as the Archway of Tartarus. " Kill the man behind the stone! "
The serpents slithered across the circular dais and Voldemort raised his wand, a dark purple fire starting to burn and flicker at the tip, but as the first of the serpents drew their heads back to snap at the man behind the archway, the tattered veil suddenly fluttered and flapped against itself as a dull flash of greyish light seared into the scales of the snakes. Every one of the serpents hissed in absolute agony as their very form rotted away before their eyes, scales turning putrid and black as they crumbled into dust and flesh darkening and rotting away into nothingness and a second later, the serpents had been turned into small piles of putrid slime.
Purple and black fire was the next to blast from Voldemort's wand, dark searing flames scorching the very air and stone. The smell of ozone suddenly ran rampart throughout the room as the circle of scorching flames surrounded the archway¸ flickering and jumping madly as it fed upon both oxygen and dark magic. Voldemort flicked his wand again and the circle of flames started shrinking, getting closer and closer to the archway. Suddenly, the flames shimmered with a soft grey light and copious amounts of grey misty-like smoke billowed from behind the archway. The roaring flames suddenly wilted and died an instant later.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..." Potter began from behind the archway, his voice loud and triumphant and for the first time, Voldemort felt the first signs of approaching panic. He would not let Potter do this! He was the Dark Lord Voldemort and he would be bound by nothing, not even prophecy.
His wand literally flashed through the air whilst dark magic and awesome power seared through his veins as it was channeled through his wand. The ground beside the archway suddenly exploded in a wave of rippling stone and fire; flashes of silver light tore through stone like it was paper, huge blasts of roaring power struck upon the archway and produced a chilling screech but did little else. Four identical streaks of bright green light, radiating with great power and accompanied with a loud, roaring noise much like an invisible wind, struck the archway and although Potter had to quickly remove an exposed hand, the curses did nothing.
"Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..."
Silver daggers were conjured from nothingness, gleaming with an odd crimson tinge as Voldemort banished them towards Harry, but they rotted away and disintegrated in little puffs of grey smoke. Voldemort let his power surge through his veins and directed his mind outwards of the dais. The first few rows of stone benches surrounding the upraised platform trembled and cracked and suddenly tore themselves off the ground. Voldemort swished his wand once more and the heavy stone benches suddenly shot towards the archway with great force, but as they approached they suddenly shimmered and became black mist, which dissipated into nothingness.
"And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal… but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not..."
"Equal?" Voldemort hissed, his crimson eyes flaring with great anger. "You are not my equal, Potter, you were never my equal! Albus Dumbledore was not my equal! Merlin himself is not my equal! I have no equal! My powers are far greater than any wizard has ever possessed! You may wield one power but I wield dozens! You are weak, Potter, and I am strong and far greater than you will ever become!"
The room fell into silence as the last echo of Voldemort's words faded away. The normally composed Dark Lord was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring as he tried to ignore the foul and revolting scent of the magic of Tartarus, dark power crackling over his thin and pale form. An aura of power emanated from Lord Voldemort as he stood there, so powerful that it literally put pressure into the air, forcing away tiny fragments of stone and causing a forceful rush of air to push out, which created a howling noise as it shot through the room. But then, Harry continued, his voice losing its triumph and replacing it with grim determination.
"And either must die at the hand of the other…"
Harry Potter emerged from behind the archway, his emerald eyes completely washed over with grey. A different type of darkness washed over his form, something so foreign and disturbing that the mere presence of it created a feeling of peculiarity and an incredible wrongness, as if it were not supposed to exist in this world. Lord Voldemort stared at the face of his supposed equal and his wand flicked upwards as Harry Potter opened his mouth once more.
"For neither can live…"
"Avada…"
The tattered curtain of the archway suddenly flapped even harder, struggling against its bindings as an intense and oddly eerie low hum suddenly washed over the room. Small fragments of stone started vibrating as something unseen yet immensely powerful and different gathered within the Archway of Tartarus, and finally, Voldemort could hear tiny and soft mutters from behind the veil, voices filled with bloodlust, of hatred, of disgust.
"While the other…"
"Kedavra!"
The humming suddenly intensified as the voices grew louder and louder, their incomprehensible words of loathing and revulsion stabbing towards Voldemort like knives. The humming was growing louder and louder and now the large stone fragments were shuddering, then the stone benches surrounding them, then the very walls and floor were groaning in protest! The veil continued to flutter madly as small geysers of billowing grey smoke poured from the archway, shimmering in the air as they drifted around Potter, whose hair had suddenly whitened and whose eyes were now completely grey, even the whites and pupil.
Harry Potter's stare fell upon the crimson eyes of Lord Voldemorts and he uttered the last ward in a whisper, which the Dark Lord heard despite the howling veil and the groaning noise of the stone walls.
"…Survives…"
Suddenly the howling of the archway dramatically increased in both volume and intensity and Lord Voldemort cried out in pain as a deadly coil of green light burst from the tip of his wand with great power, the usual noise of a roaring wind lost in the piercing shriek. Meanwhile, the Archway of Tartarus suddenly trembled and the veil parted in a tattered wave of fabric as a something huge and immense burst from it. The misty grey power warped the very air around it, distorting it like a trick mirror would, and was so condensed and tightly packed that it appeared solid and Voldemort watched, pain still flaring through his ears, as it drifted forward and stabbed into Potter with force, hoping with a sense of desperation he had never felt before that the approaching curse would kill the boy.
Harry eyed the approaching killing curse, his face oddly blank as the voices shouted and hollered into his ears, and he lazily ducked underneath it, the aura of death and decay surrounding the Avada Kedavra straightening the hairs on the back of his neck. He quickly stood back to his feet and eyed Voldemort coldly, cocking his head and shivering as the sickly and unnatural energy blasted into his very being. Distantly, Harry thought it was odd that Voldemort had clasped one hand to his ears and that it was odd that thick blood was beginning to drip from the Dark Lord's nose, and trickle down from the gleaming crimson eyes. To him, the world had suddenly gone silent. He couldn't hear the rustling of his robes or the sound of his own breathing, only an odd yet strangely satisfying low hum that played in the background like some twisted orchestral hit.
But the main focus of his mind was Voldemort and he raised his wand as he forced the power of the otherworld, of Tartarus, into his wand and with a grand and broad flourish, he flicked the slim piece of holly directly towards Voldemort and exhaled in shock as the power literally jumped into the wand. The wand was vibrating, shuddering and shaking, and Harry could barely hold onto it as the power swept through him and through his wand and burst out with force. Harry's arm buckled and he felt something snap, pain flaring in his arm, but he held his wand straight as a giant flare of darkness burst from the tip of his wand. Inside the flare, grey splotches of eerie grey mist buckled against the force that held them in, circling and swerving as if they were alive.
Harry redirected his gaze as he staggered back, leaning back on the archway and watching Voldemort with tired eyes. Voldemort, one of his hands still clutching his right ear despite the trickling of blood that dripped from his spindly fingers, raised his wand as he eyed the approaching entity of Tartaruswith something akin to fear on his face. He swiped his wand and a corporeal shield of silver and green warped into existence, hovering centimeters away from his form while at the same time, a blinding flash of golden light burst from the Dark Lord's form as a magical dome of glowing golden magic enveloped his form, appearing almost solid in nature. Voldemort quickly raised his wand above his head and made a small circular twirl, and the very ground around him rumbled and shuddered as a ring of thick, jagged stone suddenly jutted up from the ground and encircled his form, blocking him from sight.
However, the flare of darkness smashed upon the encircling layer of jagged stone and shattered it with ease, revealing Voldemort, whose extremely potent magical dome of glimmering golden magic was torn apart with apparent ease. Voldemort raised the corporeal shield, his eyes flaring with terror, but the gleaming silver and green conjuration vanished in a wisp of grey mist, and the dark flare silently detonated in a cascading wave of power. The very force of the explosion knocked Harry off his feet and he landed on the hard ground with a painful grunt, one that he could not hear, but continued to watch the demise of his enemy, who had remained on his feet and was flicking his wand quickly. But no magic Voldemort possessed could save him now as the flare of dark light faded away and coils of eager and hungry grey mist sprang free.
They circled and spiraled around Voldemort's form, who twisted and turned as potent dark magic blasted from his wand, zooming straight through the misty apparitions and striking upon the surrounding stone benches, which crumpled, cracked and bent under the pressure of the spells. The shadowy dark billows of mist suddenly halted and for a split second, Harry and Voldemort both froze, one with triumph entering his eyes, the other with dismay, before a spiral of sickly mist solidified into a twisting and flailing coil of dark grey and black matter, and struck forward at Voldemort's form. Voldemort could barely contain his flinch as he awaited some sort of pain but the coil of darkness seemed to stop mere inches away from his heart and hesitated.
Slowly, Voldemort glanced down at the end of the coil and horror, fear and then agony swept through his mind and he gave an earsplitting high-pitched scream of pain as the coil struck for his locket, his Horcrux. Dark blood spluttered from his mouth and he shuddered and swayed on his feet, his crimson eyes flaring with pain rather than power, as the ghostly coil of Tartarus entered the Horcrux, which glowed in an immense and blinding scarlet light as the coil tugged at something. The shadowy solidified coil of mist suddenly yanked back at the locket, which snapped off its golden chain and fell to the ground, and a ghostly incarnation of Voldemort was pulled out, appearing insubstantial, indistinct and made up of a chilling pale blue light. The materialization of this glowing blue Voldemort, crimson eyes and all, was thrown back to the large and buzzing mass of shimmering coils and disappeared in the billows of grey mist that lazily spiraled around the Dark Lord.
Voldemort was still screaming in agony, his crimson eyes wide with shock as something inside burned in an unnatural flare of power. He was shuddering- rocking on his feet as he mouthed something silently to himself, although whatever it was, Harry didn't hear as he staggered up onto his feet and watched as the billows of grey and black coils circled around Voldemort once more. His piercing emerald eyes met the crimson gaze of Voldemort's, who, even with his predicament and facing his demise, regarded Harry with a look of utmost loathing, hatred and detestation. Then, the billow clouds of dark smoke solidified once more and Voldemort was screaming again as they struck at him, digging into his pale and magically-twisted form without mercy.
They struck like a nest of vipers, darting forward and tearing into Voldemort's body, reappearing and dragging out a glowing fleck of light. Voldemort finally dropped to his knees, his crimson eyes continually fluttered in pain and his mouth opening and closing wordlessly as the coils struck again and again, tearing out his powers, his magic, his dark enchantments, and his ritualized abilities. With each strike, the bright flare of his crimson eyes dulled and the strange aura of strength around his body faded, his very form weakening. Finally, the solidified coils of dark smoke and mist tore out one last fleck of glowing light and retreated away from the broken and huddled form of Voldemort, dispersing from its solid form and returning back to billows of gently pulsing smoke and mist that circled lazily through the air.
Harry, his ears still clogged by the strange humming noise, slowly limped forward, ignoring his broken arm, his wand leveled at the fallen Dark Lord until he stood mere metres away, staring down at the shaking form of his nemesis without emotion. The shaking figure seemed to sense that somebody was watching him and slowly rolled over, and dulled crimson eyes met piercing green. Although Voldemort had kept his appearance, his snake-like visage, his thin lips and slit-like nostrils and his pale and slim form, the very air of danger, power and charisma around him were gone. Dried blood had crusted around his nose, mouth and under his eyes and his hands, still clasping a slim, black wand, were quivering.
For a split second, Voldemort and Harry stared at each other, before Voldemort opened his mouth, revealing his sharp, pointy teeth as he prepared to speak.
"Don't," Harry whispered coldly, although he couldn't hear his own words. Images flashed before his eyes as he mustered the last of his hatred, the last of his rage and anger towards this pathetic excuse of a human being in front of him. The faces of those that had suffered under this man's wand, those who had died, those who had been tortured, flittered through his mind and a snarl appeared on his face as his stony facade snapped, his very form radiating with anger and malice.
"Avada Kedavra!" He roared with fury. A gigantic flash of bright green light bust from the tip of his wand, radiating death and decay and lighting up the darkened amphitheatre with an eerie glow as it shot forward and struck Lord Voldemort, Ruler of the British Isles, one of the Darkest Lords of all time, Heir of Salazar Slytherin.
Voldemort's eyes widened with fear and horror, dread flashing over his face as the green light propelled into him as death washed over his form, his eyes glazing over as he was lifted off the ground and propelled backwards, drifting over the dais and slamming into one of the stone benches. His body gave one last spasm before it crumpled and collapsed as the last vestiges of life was torn from its form.
Suddenly Harry shook his head as the soft humming noise that made up his hearing suddenly intensified and his head darted upwards, watching as the grey billows of mist and eerie smoke were suddenly propelled away by an invisible force. The tattered black curtain of the veil flapped wildly as the billows of smoke and mist were sucked in, a loud howling noise going through the room as the power of Tartarus' Archway returned to its rightful realm and in less than a few seconds, the last remnants of the grey mist disappeared, the tattered veil suddenly drifted down to its stationary position and Harry's hearing returned.
Harry regarded the war-torn and battle-scarred room with tired eyes and exhaled softly, his grip on his wand loosening as he slowly limped towards Voldemort's corpse. With a muttered incantation, the body of the former Lord of the British Ministry of Magic arose from the ground, just as one of the black doors burst open with a bang and somebody entered the room, wand in hand.
Harry's wand was instantly leveled at the intruder but he gave a small sigh as he recognised who it was and lowered it as Ron jumped down the stone steps, his scarred face grim and bloody. His robes were scorched and burnt and there was a patch of charred flesh on his left shoulder, but nonetheless, he made his way towards Harry.
"Kingsley didn't make it…" He begun with a touch of sadness before his eyes darted down towards the corpse of Lord Voldemort.
"He's dead," Ron whispered with shock as he moved to stand by Harry's side, staring down at the pitiful body. "You killed him."
"Yeah," Harry replied flatly, His mind was numb and his was heart devoid of feeling as he felt emotionally drained and suddenly very tired as it hit him. "He's dead."
"He's really dead this time?" Ron pressed on, his voice little but a whisper. "There aren't any rituals or enchantments that can revive him?"
"No, his last Horcrux was destroyed," Harry responded softly. "He'll stay dead."
Ron absorbed this with a face of dawning relief, before a huge smile broke over his scarred face, his brown eyes warm with sudden joy, just as another one of the doors slammed open and a mashed and cloaked Death Eater glided forward. Crystal blue eyes danced with emerald green and recognition flew into both as Ron instantly raised his wand.
"No!" Harry shouted quickly, his power flaring as he shot a barrage of brightly glowing silver light, which struck and deflected the shimmering blue curse that Ron had just cast. Ron turned to Harry, his eyes wide with surprise and shock as the Death Eater quickly approached, their wand raised. With a short flick, a golden light pulsed out of it and struck Harry, who made no move to counter, parry or deflect it, and have a short hiss of pain as the golden light spilled onto his broken arm, seeping into the very skin. The bone suddenly cracked again and Harry winced as it was forcibly set into place and healed.
"Thank you," He murmured as the Death Eater lowered their wand and turned his eyes on Ron, who was suddenly eyeing the Death Eater with dawning comprehension. "Ron, meet the woman who made this attack and yesterdays attacks possible. Ron, this is Linden Avery, and she is…"
"His most loyal," The Death Eater cut off as she moved her white mask, revealing a pretty pale face with soft crystal blue eyes and long dirty-blonde hair. Her face seemed to be stern and cold as she regarded Harry, before her eyes flickered down to the body of Lord Voldemort and she went still.
"Hang on," Ron said, his eyes narrowing and he whirled around to Harry. "Didn't she try to kill you?"
"That's right," Harry agreed amiably, a small smile hinting at his lips.
"And you tried to kill her?" Ron continued, his face twisting up in confusion and puzzlement as he eyed both Harry and Linden skeptically, the former wearing an amused smile on his face and the latter staring transfixed at Voldemort's corpse without any emotion.
"Again, yes," Harry answered with a calmness that flummoxed Ron.
"Oh," was all he uttered. After a few moments of silence, he hazarded a guess. "It was all staged, right?"
"That's right," Harry answered. "Between the two of us, we devised a way to communicate with our Legillimency and planned our battles as we dueled, deciding who of us would use what curse and so forth. Each duel was designed to raise her standing in the Ministry, allowing her access to higher levels of information, which in turned helped us."
"Communicated with Legillimency?" Ron asked, his brows furrowing. "I don't claim to be an expert on the subject, but I thought that Legillimency didn't work like that. Doesn't it have more to do with watching memories than telepathy?"
Harry nodded with a slightly smug smile on his face. "Yes, it does," He said, seeming extraordinary pleased with himself for a second. "That's why Linden and I spent several grueling days reading a dictionary. Whenever we wished to 'speak', we would bring up the memory of the words we wished to communicate and send them towards each other. It was all her idea, really."
Ron swiveled his eyes to the dirty-blonde haired woman, who finally looked up from Voldemort's body and towards Harry, her face expressionless.
"It appears that you have your victory," She said softly. "Of course, I knew that you had won the moment you killed him and I'm sure all marked ones know as well."
"I do have my victory, Linden," Harry said gently and a true smile washed over his face, affection and even love lighting up his eyes as he took the hands of his most loyal supporter and enclosed them with his own. "And it can be accredited to your work."
Upon Harry's touch, Linden's face transformed and her beauty shone through as she beamed towards him, her eyes shining as gripped his hands with her own, before she let them drop and saddled up to him, inspecting his body for wounds and injuries with delicate care. Meanwhile, Ron regarded her with a curious expression etched onto his face.
"You don't feel angry, or sad, or anything, now that Voldemort is dead?" He asked, raising a ginger-eyebrow as the woman glanced at him, her eyes hardening.
"I do not care that the Dark Lord has lost," She said slowly, and her stern expression lightened as a soft smile of affection curled her lips. "I only care that Harry has won."
Ron suddenly glimpsed something as Linden went back to tending Harry's injuries, her wand flying over his lower back, something deeper and more profound than he had originally seen and in a rare flash of insight, suddenly glimpsed a deeper loyalty and devotion between the two conspirators in front of him, who whispered softly to one another with small grins. As Linden let out a tinkling laugh, Ron cleared his throat loudly.
"Harry, as much as I hate to interrupt your obviously well-earned rest, the battle is still raging up in the atrium and people are dying," He said awkwardly and almost cringed as Harry's face hardened with determination, and the green-eye wizard gently pushed away Linden and flicked his wand.
"You're right," Was all Harry said and with squared soldiers and a straightened back, quickly started to climbed the stone benches, Voldemort's body levitating beside him as he did, and both Ron and Linden had to move quickly to catch up to him as he disappeared from the amphitheatre. None of the exiting wizards or witches noticed the tattered veil in the archway silently flutter as Harry left, before falling still.
In the Atrium, the battle raged fiercely as hundreds of blue-robed Aurors fought against the entrenched Azkaban Guard, whose brown robes flapped as they darted between the large and solid granite walls, ducking as a flash of light soared over their shoulder. Dozens of the Aurors lay dead, some lying in a pool of their own blood, others with frozen faces set in an eternal expression of horror, and a few dozen resembling little more than scorched, black husks, the unlucky few that had used the Floo to invade the Atrium and had been caught up in a giant wall of roaring and searing flames. However, in the centre of the room, several of the Azkaban Guard also lay dead while others lay at the centre of the fortifications, lying under the wand of Luna or Ginny who desperately tried to heal the worst of the wounded.
At the moment, the fortifications in the centre of the Atrium were under heavy attack as blue-robed Aurors advanced from all directions, their wands flicking and loud incantations roaring from their lips as they hurled flashes of light and loud pillars of sparkling magic at the Azkaban Guard. Spells struck the granite walls from all sides, some blasting small holes into them and sending rains of sharp debris flicking through the air and others merely chipping or glancing off the sturdy and protected walls. The Azkaban Guard retaliated in response, barrages and volleys of intense light blasting out from behind the wall, but the Aurors, working in large groups, merely meshed and conjured domes of sparkling magic to deflect it, or in the cases of very powerful and unblockable curses, like the Avada Kedavra, conjured up a solid and thick lump of wood to intercept the spells. The battle seemed to be at a stalemate when it happened.
As the Aurors advanced, their faces grim, a sudden loud piercing howl echoed through the atrium. Aurors and Azkaban Guards alike cried out in pain as the noise drove into their very skulls and they clasped their hands on their ears. To them, the noise seemed to last for an eternity but less than a minute later, it faded away as quickly as it had come. Aurors glanced at one other, doubt on their faces, while the Azkaban Guard darted their eyes around the atrium. Both sides were wondering what had just produced that noise and preparing to attack once more when a loud cracking and splitting noise blasted out towards all corners of the atrium. Aurors and Order members alike glanced towards the large obsidian statue in the middle of the Atrium, where the three loyal Death Eaters stood upright and proud. However, at the moment, the magic that usually swirled from the lead Death Eaters wand was fading and slowly, the glittering green and silver dark mark shimmered out of existence as the magic faded away. Cracks shot through the statues, thousands of tiny-hairline fractures rupturing the polished surface, and in a loud grinding noise, the obsidian statues collapsed in on themselves, the lead Death Eaters head toppling off the body and smashing onto the ground, barely missing an Auror. The statue continued to crumble, breaking apart and falling to the ground, but stilled after a minute or so, leaving the entire Atrium silent.
Suddenly, from the other end of the Atrium, the silver-wrought gates, a focus of many powerful wards, charms and enchantments created by the Dark Lord himself, shuddered, and with a loud screeching noise, shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces. They fell to the ground in a showery tinkle just as the one of the elevator doors suddenly made a pinging noise. Aurors and Order members alike swiveled their heads past the silver gates and towards the lifts as a series of rattles and clatters rumbled from below as one of the lifts ascended loudly and breaths were held as the doors slowly opened and three figures emerged, striding towards the atrium at a fast pace. Suddenly, there was a flash of light as something was blasted from the approaching group of three and into the Atrium. Aurors grabbed for their wands, leveling them at the figure quickly, and although a few streaks and jets of light rocketed through the air, the majority of the Aurors froze as they identified the object in question, which landed in the centre of the Atrium with a dull thud and several cracks. Aurors instantly parted away from it, their faces expressing shock, disbelief and surprise as the dead body of their Lord, Voldemort, gazed at them with dull eyes in a crumpled heap, and their eyes swung back to the ruins of the silver gates, where Harry Potter, a woman in Death Eater garb and Ronald Weasley stood.
"Lord Voldemort is dead," Harry Potter declared in a loud and firm voice, his eyes hard. "Unless you hold loyalty towards a dead man, I suggest that you lower your wands. The war is over. We have won and you have lost!"
Nobody in the room, not even the Azkaban Guard, moved as they stared at the imposing figure gazing impassively at them behind silver-rimmed glasses. Power fluttered over his very form, his cloak billowing in an invisible wind and his eyes glimmered with magic. Then, at the back, one of the Aurors glanced at his wand and threw it to the ground. It landed on the wooden floorboards with a loud clutter, which rang through the Atrium, and as if that were the cue, dozens of wands were thrown to the ground, then hundreds as the Aurors of the British Ministry of Magic submitted and surrendered to the will and soldiers of Harry Potter. At the same time, a loud roaring cheer suddenly burst from the fortifications, wizards and witches clasped in brown robes clapping furiously. Scorching beams of light burst from several upraised wands as fiery golden and red phoenixes appeared on the roof, their green eyes glaring defiantly and triumphantly down at the Aurors. A wave of sparks flew through the air as a particularly large member of the Azkaban guard flicked his wand with a loud crow of triumph and happiness, the beginnings of tears of joy and happiness forming in his eyes. Some of the Azkaban Guard just lowered their wands as a look of undying relief flew through their faces and they collapsed to the ground, leaning back on the granite walls and letting their eyes close as tired smiles appear on their faces.
In amidst the cheering, applause and glittering sparks, Harry watched them all with soft eyes as he observed the men and women who had fought by his side and fought under his command celebrate. His eyes glittered with pride and affection as he allowed his eyes to drift over the hall, noting that while many Aurors had looks of anger, disbelief and resignation on their faces, others had looks of relief and even happiness, and his lips twitched as everything fell into place. Most of the Aurors here would not remain loyal to Voldemort's cause any longer. Voldemort's power over Britain was already beginning to break apart, even mere moments after his death. Another small smile curved his lips as he noticed Luna eying him happily, a two-headed bunny rabbit coloured in with the most unusual shading of green sitting on her shoulder, and he let out a small chuckle as Ron stepped forward from behind him.
"So, now what do we do?" He asked Harry softly. Harry turned around and eyed Ron with a look of satisfaction that faded away and was replaced with the familiar look of determination and resolve.
"Now, Ron, we move quickly," Harry said softly, his green eyes hardening. "There is still a lot of work to be done. Most of Voldemort's most loyal servants, including the majority of his Death Eaters, are at Hogwarts, preparing to spring a trap that we aren't going to walk in. There are still loyal Auror bastions stationed around England and Scotland and the Ministry needs to be weeded of those who will not cooperate with us. The International Confederation of Wizards has to be contacted, we need to declare an end to any hostilities between England and Australia, and we need to immediately regain control of the prisons that hold our supporters or political opponents of Voldemort."
Ron nodded thoughtfully as Harry swung his gaze to Linden, who eyed him with affection and dedication, her eyes softening under his gaze.
"With your help, Linden, I can accomplish much of this with ease," He said quietly, his green eyes glittering with fondness. "Are you willing to serve me once more?"
"Of course," Linden replied in a soft whisper as her face hardened, her eyes becoming like ice. "When have I ever been unwilling?"
Harry nodded, satisfied, and turned back to the cheering applause and sparks. He needed to get to work if he were to take advantage of this brief opportunity, but as another wave of glittering red and yellow sparks filled the air, this one sent by an enthusiastic and smiling Auror, he allowed his men and women to celebrate for just a little bit longer. Let them have their rest, for they had earned it. The entire Order of Phoenix had earned it with their hard work and unwavering loyalty and in the end; it had all been worth it. Despite the losses, despite the defeats, despite the times where hope seemed futile, the Order of Phoenix had triumphed. Lord Voldemort was dead, Harry Potter had emerged victorious and the Ministry was theirs for the taking, to be reformed into a fair and libertarian institution.
The phoenix lived on…