Chapter 1
Harry could feel his wand against his chest, but he made no attempt to draw it. He knew that the snake was too well protected, knew that if he managed to point the wand at Nagini, fifty curses would hit him first. And still, Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and now Voldemort tilted his head a little to the side, considering the boy standing before him, and a singularly mirthless smile curled the lipless mouth.
"Harry Potter," he said very softly. His voice might have been part of the spitting fire. "The Boy Who Lived."
None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: Everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting.
Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny, and her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on his. He was going to join her, along with all his friends and parents. He was going to join everyone who loved him and died. Voldemort had raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Harry looked back into the red eyes, and wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear.
He saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was painful. His body twisted and turned without control. He felt like he was being sucked into something while spinning. But it wasn't apperation. He felt himself rise in the air and a moment later fall down in a thud as he finally fainted from the pain.