Author's Note: Hey my wonderful, spectacular readers and reviewers. Over 1000 reviews! AAAHHAHHHHHHHHHH! THANK YOU SO MUCH! You reviewers are really what has kept this fic going so I bow down to you all (in a good way, not in a Death Eater bowing at Voldie's feet way). Hope you all enjoy the chapter! On with the show!
The teachers were surrounded first and, taken by surprised, were easily captured in an invisible blockade that Voldemort had invented, leaving the professors hopeless without the counter curse. Spells could not be shot from inside out, only from the outside in, and the professors were immediately disarmed. Everyone screamed in horror at the sight of Voldemort, who had entered after his Death Eaters, and most scrambled to the doors. The students found themselves unable to escape from the Great Hall. With a flick of Voldemort's wand, the tables disappeared leaving nothing to hide behind. Those who tried to fight back had their wands taken from them. Eventually, the students were backed up against the walls of the Great Hall, like a stadium crowd.
Ron pulled Hermione behind himself so his body shielded hers.
"Ron, what are you doing?" she hissed.
"'Mione, they can easily find out that you're a Muggleborn so stay behind me," he whispered. He looked around to find that many had had the same idea. The Muggleborns and Half-bloods had been pushed to the back, being shielded by rows of Pure-bloods. Even some of the Slytherins were blocking some young and frightened Muggleborns.
The Death Eaters began circling, searching through the students. It seemed, however, that they did not find what they were looking for. Ron felt the blood leave his face as he realized who was being sought after.
"Where is Harry Potter?" Voldemort boomed angrily.
"Leave him be, Tom, he's just a boy," Dumbledore bellowed menacingly.
"I'll deal with you later old man," Voldemort hissed before casting a powerful silencing charm on the invisible cage containing the professors. "Now," he said turning back to the students. "Which of you know the whereabouts of Harry Potter?" he asked.
Silence and nervous glances filled the room.
"I said, I'd like to know the whereabouts of Harry Potter, NOW!"
More silence followed.
"I suggest somebody come forward before I begin killing students to get my answer. I am very impatient."
Ron looked anxiously at Hermione. They didn't want anyone to die but nothing short of a truth serum would get it out of them.
"Fine, if that's the way you want to play it." He nodded at one of the Death Eaters who turned and grabbed a second-year Hufflepuff girl and dragged her out crying to the Dark Lord. Her friends all cried her name and pleaded for her life.
The professors were pounding on the invisible barrier shouting words that couldn't be heard.
Voldemort lifted his wand. "Avada Kedavra."
Green light shot toward the girl and everyone screamed or gasped. The girl shut her eyes, squeezing out some final tears.
But the light never hit. Everyone peeked out from behind their hands. The girl cracked open an eye to find the green light frozen midair, right in front of her. Every eye in the room stared at it in wonder.
"What?" Voldemort bellowed furiously.
It then simply dropped to the ground, shattering like glass and then disappearing all together.
"Leave her alone. I'm here."
Everyone looked over to see Harry walking fearlessly into the room, wand in hand. Several of his friends shouted for him to run, but Harry ignored them all.
Voldemort's scowl turned into a malicious grin.
"Ah, Potter, I've been looking for you." He waved a hand nonchalantly toward the girl and a Death Eater shoved her back to her friends who all hugged her, bawling.
"Oh God, Ron," Hermione whispered. " I don't think he's going to be able to do this!"
"So we meet again. I assume you haven't forgotten our last meeting."
"You mean the one where you failed to kill me again?" he asked cheekily.
Voldemort's eyes flashed with anger.
"Pure luck. I assure you that this time, you will not be leaving this room alive and the wizarding world will have you to thank for strengthening my powers."
The teachers were banging against the invisible cage even more ferociously. Harry was pleased to see that Voldemort had taken the bait, but bent his face into a look of confusion.
"What I want to know is how you learned that sneaky little trick of getting into my head," Voldemort continued. "It took too much of my valuable time to figure out how to block that little connection. I couldn't do anything until I could make sure you weren't spying on my plans. It was quite annoying."
"That's my little secret. How can you be so sure that I haven't been spying on all your plans?" he asked, totally bluffing. He hadn't had any visions since the last attack, but he figured it couldn't hurt to cause the Dark Lord some doubt as to Harry's control of the situation. But Voldemort didn't look too concerned.
"I know you haven't been spying on my plans because I'm in here right now. It's taken months of discretely breaking down these barriers one by one, while making it so they appeared to still be there. Did your precious headmaster ever tell you what a brilliant student I was?" he asked imperiously.
"Are we getting a little cocky, Tom?" Harry asked insolently.
Whether it was being insulted by a fifteen-year-old or the use of his hated given name, Voldemort's face twisted into a look of fury. Harry mentally prepared himself to block any spells hurled at him, but sensed that Voldemort wasn't going to attack him yet. Instead of cursing Harry, Voldemort threw his hands up toward the ceiling and shouted an unfamiliar spell. Light shot out of his hands and formed itself into a dome surrounding only Harry, Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It was similar to the clear fortress holding the professors, but was designed to keep others out instead of in.
"Now we can get down to what I came here to do." Voldemort hissed. "Crucio!"
The spell came whizzing toward Harry, but he easily blocked it.
"You can't block Unforgivables!" he shouted furiously.
"I believe I just did," Harry said cheekily.
"So, you have some new tricks up your sleeve I see. Well, no matter then. I'm going to let my Death Eaters have a bit of fun before we get down to business." He clapped his hands once and suddenly wands from each Death Eater were trained on Harry. Voldemort paused before signaling the battle to begin.
"Don't kill him," he said before stepping back to watch the show.
The battle began between Harry and the Death Eaters. He tried to focus on what they were going to do, but there were too many of them. The most he had dueled against was four people, now there were at least fifty and even though they had less skill than Harry's professors, the number of them was disabling Harry's ability to sense what they'd do.
Curses were shot at him from all directions. The masked figures firing curses incessantly. He dodged and blocked and shielded them, shooting his own at every chance he got. He tried to remember everything he had learned in his lessons. He managed to get many Death Eaters to hit each other and faked many out, making them jump right into his spells. He was able to block spells with his left hand using wandless magic, while attacking with his wand in his right hand. He could stare intensely at a person and the next thing they knew, they were on their backs missing their wand.
After only a few minutes, he had half of the Death Eaters' wands. Just as many were left in body binds. Everyone was surprised. They knew Harry was good at dueling, but he was fighting over fifty Death Eaters. He had been hit by a few curses but had been able to fight the effects, recovering and catching the Death Eaters by surprise.
But as Snape had warned him of earlier, the Energy Potion had only given him superficial energy that was quickly fading. The fight was draining him of energy with each spell, and it was becoming obvious. His opponents soon discovered that Harry was having a tougher time blocking and dodging the Cruciatus Curse since it was an Unforgivable. The ones with wands circled around him, filling the gaps left by their fallen comrades. One of the Death Eaters gave a signal.
"Crucio!" they all shouted simultaneously. Harry was too drained to conjure up a strong enough shield. He couldn't block and dodge them all. Two hit him in the back. Pain engulfed his body as he fell to the ground, dropping his collections of wands. He was unable to fight against their curses any longer as he was engulfed by fiery pain. Then the agony increased as another Death Eater added his own "Crucio!" to the bunch. Then another did the same; and another; and another until Harry couldn't think of anything else. He didn't know where he was, what was happening, or who was casting those excruciating curses. He could only think about the torturous waves of pain coursing through his body. He wished he could die just to stop all feeling.
Suddenly, the curses ceased. He still felt incredibly sore and the painful remnants of the curses continued to throb in his very veins, but the realization of his situation came rushing back to his consciousness. He was lying on the ground. He tasted blood from biting his tongue. He saw half moon cuts on his palms where his fingernails had dug into his skin as a result of clenching his fists so hard. As he gasped for air, he realized that his throat was incredibly sore from screams he didn't remember.
He looked around him. Professor McGonagall was crying furiously while Dumbledore looked murderous. Harry looked over to see Ron and Hermione banging against the clear wall screaming, "Stop it!" and "Leave him alone," tears streaming down Hermione's face. Neville was shaking and covering his ears, presumable to block out Harry's previous screams. He was muttering "No no no no no no…." and shaking his head. Harry felt sympathetic toward his friend, knowing that Neville must have just been reminded of what happened to his parents.
Eloise was kicking the force field as hared as she could, screaming for Harry to run. Many students were trying to break down the barrier, working together to cast any spells they could recall at the dome, but nothing worked.
Harry looked around for his wand but realized that it was gone with the others. He shakily got to his feet, ignoring the jeering laughs from the Death Eaters. His legs felt wobbly. He coughed into his hand, spraying it with blood, which he wiped off on his robes.
"Well, I thought you were all powerful, Harry," Voldemort sneered, stepping forward. "I guess you are, in fact, just a little boy."
"A little boy that seems to have gotten the best of you quite a few times," he said hoarsely.
Voldemort glared at him. He nodded at two Death Eaters who roughly grabbed Harry's arms, holding him to the spot. Harry was feeling too weak to fight back or use his wandless magic.
"You won't get the best of me this time," Voldemort said, grinning evilly.
Harry struggled as best he could, but just wore himself out even more. "I already have. You're proving to everyone what a coward you really are, getting your Death Eaters to make sure I'm weak enough for you to handle," Harry spat. Voldemort's eyes flashed dangerously.
"I am not cowardly, Potter, I'm just not one to waste my time playing foolish games with an insolent brat like you."
Suddenly, the Death Eater on his right threw curses at the other Death Eater that was holding Harry, and Voldemort. He gripped Harry's arm tightly and began pulling him away.
"Professor?" Harry whispered. "What are you doing?" he asked as Snape began to throw more curses toward Death Eaters.
"I've changed my mind, Potter, this isn't right. I'm going to get you out of here," he said in a determined voice.
"No, professor, there's no chance for this to work. Just get out of here. They'll kill you!" Harry insisted frantically. He didn't want Snape to get killed. The man had helped him so much this year. "If I go now, he'll just kill students!"
"If you stay, he'll kill you!" Snape hissed, blocking them from a particularly nasty curse.
"I can't run away now when I could stop him!" he insisted, weakly pulling his arm, but Snape's grip was too strong and Harry's energy was depleted.
"It's not you're job to protect them!"
"Yes it is! It's been my job since I was one, whether I like it or not. You should know that by…."
Harry was interrupted as he was hit with another round of Cruciatus curses. He collapsed to the ground and focused on trying not to scream.
Unfortunately, in the split second that Harry's collapse distracted him, Snape felt his wand being ripped out of his hand by the disarming spell. Death Eaters were on him in a second, dragging him before their master. One of the Death Eaters ripped off Snape's mask and the student body gasped in seeing the face of their potions master. Voldemort frowned.
"Tsk tsk, Severus, I'm disappointed. I had questions about your loyalty, but I didn't think you'd be as stupid as to side with that bumbling old fool. Well, after I deal with my prior obligations," he said, indicating Harry who had been recaptured by Death Eaters. "I will teach you a lesson about the punishments for spies. We'll see just how sorry you are." He turned to the masked figures holding Snape. "Put him with the others," he instructed, waving a hand toward the professors. They dragged a struggling Snape up toward the staff and shoved him roughly inside. Snape immediately whipped around and kicked the barrier screaming profanities that fell only upon the ears of the other professors since the sound shields were still up.
"Now, back to you, Harry," He walked slowly toward the boy who wouldn't have been able to stand without the Death Eaters holding him up. He had coughed up a lot more blood, which was now covering the sleeve he had used to wipe it away.
With each step, Harry's scar burned, but he miraculously refrained from screaming. Finally, Voldemort was right in front of Harry, who could hardly see through the pain.
"So, this is the hero of the wizarding world, a weak little boy with too much arrogance for his own good. Pathetic," he sneered. "You know, I've done my fair share of research on you. You know what I've found, Harry?"
When it became clear that Harry wasn't going to respond, Voldemort continued. "I found that a hero is all that you've ever been. Your relatives despise you since they're filthy Muggles who don't understand your so-called importance. You're worthless to them. Your friends and classmates like you when you save the school, but they turn against you pretty quickly, now don't they?"
"No," he growled, realizing the truth in the accusation as he said it.
"Oh really, well my sources seem to be under the distinct impression that the school turned against you when they discovered your ability to speak Parseltongue. And did they not even wear badges with hateful messages about you on them last year? But maybe the phrase 'Potter Stinks' holds a different meaning to you."
Harry glanced around, his face reddening with embarrassment. Everyone had looks of shame on their faces. Many had tears dripping down their faces as their guilt overwhelmed them.
"No, they were just supporting the one who should've been the champion," he said firmly, though he knew it wasn't the entire truth.
"You may as well admit it, Harry. Those who you are trying to protect right now don't give a damn about you. You're nothing to them. Nothing except a famous scar," he said, tapping Harry's scar with his finger. It erupted in pain. Harry couldn't be certain that his head was not, in fact, ripping in two. His legs gave out but the two Death Eaters held him up.
Finally, Voldemort pulled his hand away triumphantly, leaving Harry gasping for air.
Then, Harry did something nobody expected; he spit right in Lord Voldemort's face. Everyone gasped and even Voldemort looked shocked. His eyes filled with loathing and he backhanded Harry across the face, slicing Harry's cheek with a ring he was wearing. To his dismay, however, Harry didn't make a sound and just turned his face calmly back to Voldemort.
"Let's just see how your fellow students care for you shall we? Lucius, it's time for your son's first chance to prove himself. All eyes snapped to Draco Malfoy, who looked utterly shocked. One of the masked figures stalked over and grabbed his arm, whispering a spell to allow them back through the barrier. The boy looked nothing short of petrified as his father pushed him down into a bow in front of the Dark Lord. Harry knew this should look funny, the arrogant Slytherin looking so vulnerable, but he couldn't seem to find the humor.
"Ah, Draco," Voldemort smirked. "Your father is one of my most loyal servants. He has given me every assurance that you will follow in his footsteps. I'm giving you your first challenge. This should be immensely pleasurable: causing pain to your sworn enemy. This is what your father trained you for. Stand to face him and cast the Cruciatus on him." Voldemort leaned closer to Malfoy, who shuddered. "Make him scream," he hissed with glee.
The blonde boy positively shook with fright as he walked over to face Harry, whose arms were still being held by the two Death Eaters. Harry met Malfoy's gray eyes, which were wide with fear. Malfoy looked back at him and looked indecisive. His father shouted for him to get on with it and he flinched.
Harry's rival in everything from Quidditch to hallway skirmishes raised a trembling wand at him. Harry tensed up, knowing the pain was coming soon. He felt like he should hate the boy right now, despise him really, but he couldn't. He felt sympathy for him. Malfoy was just fifteen and was being forced into doing something he didn't want to, all because his father had chosen a certain path in life.
Malfoy opened his mouth to say the spell. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the raven-haired Gryffindor, who was trembling in pain. He had expected to find loathing those eyes, but was surprised to find only pain, resignation, and the most shocking of all, compassion. He couldn't remember ever seeing compassion directed toward himself before.
Malfoy slowly lowered his wand.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" his father hissed. "Hurt him! You hate him!"
"I—I can't," he stammered, trying to fight back tears as the hate shown through in his father's voice and the Dark Lord looked at him murderously. "P-please," he pleaded with his father, "I c-can't."
"You CAN'T?" Mr. Malfoy roared. "If you can't do this, then how the hell do you think you're going to manage as a follower of the Dark Lord?"
The younger Malfoy took a deep breath. He shot a look at Harry and a look of certainty settled over his face. "I won't become a Death Eater. I can't do this kind of stuff! I won't," he said shakily but determinably. Voldemort looked livid.
"Lucius, I better not be hearing this," he growled.
Malfoy Senior ripped off his mask, his face red with fury. He glared at his son.
"Do it now!" he screamed. "You will become a Death Eater! YOU WILL CURSE HARRY POTTER!"
"I WON'T!" Malfoy Junior shouted back defiantly.
"Crucio!"
The students gasped, unable to believe that a father would cast the Cruciatus on his own son. They watched as their classmate writhed on the floor, screaming in agony. Harry was struggling against those restraining him, shouting at Malfoy Senior to stop.
The curse ceased leaving Malfoy on the floor panting, shaking from the remnants of pain. His father glared down at him in disgust.
"You are a failure," he sneered hatefully. "You've disgraced our entire family."
"No. Malfoy!" Harry yelled. The boy looked up at him sorrowfully. Harry looked intently into his eyes to make sure he understood the sincerity. "You're better than he'll ever be." The pain in Malfoy's eyes lessened slightly at the heartfelt statement from his former enemy and nodded slightly.
"What the hell is going on? First Severus and now this pathetic boy? Don't mind him for now, Lucius, we'll deal with your son later."
Mr. Malfoy sneered at the shaking boy on the floor. "He's no son of mine," he spat coldly. The younger Malfoy choked back a sob and scooted away from his father. Before he could reach the barrier, Voldemort barked a spell at him. Several coils of light sprung from his wand and twisted, forming a cage around Malfoy. The Slytherin cautiously touched the bars of light, but jumped back in pain, holding a burnt finger.
Voldemort and the other Death Eaters turned their attention back to Harry.
"Your time is over, boy. You're going to burn in hell just like your bigheaded father and your filthy Mudblood mother," Voldemort
Harry snapped. "Don't you dare talk about my parents you bloody murderer!" he yelled, struggling once again against those holding him.
"Really, Harry, how do you know it isn't true? Because people told you that your parents were kind and caring? People lie. Do you honestly think they'd tell you what disgraces they really were? How can you really be sure what they were like when you can't even remember them?"
Harry paused. Voldemort was right. How did he know what they were really like? Nobody would tell a boy that his dead parents were complete failures. Maybe Snape really was being honest all those times.
"That's because you murdered them," Harry said, glaring.
"Yes, well it's a good thing isn't it? Can you imagine what they'd say if they saw you right now? They'd be horribly disappointed in you as everyone else is. You're whole purpose in life was to defeat me and you couldn't even do it."
"We'll see about that," Harry snapped.
Voldemort laughed. "I'm afraid it's too late, Harry. You'd really have to have something big up your sleeve to protect you from what I'm about to do to you, and frankly, I don't think you do. And if you think that anybody will really care when you die, you're horribly mistaken. All you are is their little hero, and now you've lost. Now you are nothing. You're worthless."
Harry winced at the harsh words that reminded him of the Dursleys. He tried to tell himself that it wasn't true, but he found himself filled with doubt.
'No. Sirius cares. Ron and Hermione care. Ginny cares. Fred and George care. Neville and Eloise care,' he told himself, but he couldn't help feel incredibly alone, his confidence in that belief faltering drastically. After all, hadn't it been he who had always gotten them into danger? He had practically ruined their year after telling them about his cancer. He loved the Weasleys, Hermione, and Sirius with all his heart. They were the only family he had ever known. But they all had their own families or other preoccupations. He was filled with embarrassment at the thought that he had cared for him far more than they had for him.
But then he remembered the twins telling him that he could always talk to them and that they considered him a brother in all but blood. He remembered Hermione worriedly taking care of him, skipping school for him. Ginny exacting revenge on Cho for him and inviting only him to the movies with her class. Ron being there for him every time he needed someone, waking him up every morning despite the difficulty of the task, reading endless medical books just for him. How Ron had cried for Harry when Harry had never seen the redhead cry for anything before.
Most of all, he remembered Sirius telling him that he loved him. He inwardly smiled at the memory and firmly decided that Voldemort was wrong. There were people who cared for him, and no matter what happened, no one could take that away from him.
Voldemort took a few steps back and raised his wand. Cries and pleas came from all around, but Voldemort ignored them all.
Harry struggled against his captures.
"Harry!"
Harry looked over to find his friends calling his name desperately.
"Harry, you know he's lying! You know we've always cared," Hermione sobbed pleadingly. Harry nodded reassuringly. As he saw Voldemort open his mouth, Harry ceased struggling and shut his eyes, fully focusing his powers inward.
"Recnac Sunimoon. Recnac Sunimoon. Recnac Sunimoon," he muttered until he began to feel a burning sensation begin to grow from his chest. It was working.
"Anackarininna Daewarro!" Voldemort shouted, a blue light shooting from the end of his wand right into Harry's chest. The Death Eaters dropped Harry's arms and stepped away, but Harry remained upright as he felt the spell rush through him. As he had when he had performed the spell on Mr. Stenson, Harry clasped his hands over his chest where the light was entering, just to stop the immensely painful tingling sensation concentrated in that one spot, but it had no effect. Soon Harry's whole body was tingling.
Harry saw a brilliantly white light surround him. As the light got brighter, Harry felt weaker. His eyelids drifted closed. Finally, the bright light, at the end of the string of blue light, as if a fish on the end of a fishing line, was ripped from Harry's body.
Harry's world went dark as he collapsed to the ground, dead.