A/n- Hello, again. This may or may not be the final chapter of "Harry's Task". Perhaps an Epilogue, but that'll be it. Once again, thanks to all who reviewed. On with the story!
It was Barty Crouch Jr.
A shrewd smile came upon the man's face, reminiscent of the one he'd worn last summer, as he looked at Harry with empty eyes.
Harry struggled uselessly against his bonds, as he stared back at Crouch. "But-but-you had the kiss!"
Crouch continued to smile. "Nothing is ever final Potter. Not even death itself, as my master has proven to the world. My master has set the dementors free, did you know that Potter? Or has your fool of a minister not told you? It is possible to get your soul back, it is.
"My master will be hear soon. This time there will be no duel. My master has other ways of proving his superiority over you."
Harry glared at Crouch, and noticed something. He could only look at the eyes of Crouch, never in to them. They seemed like glass eyes, unseeing and fake.
A quote he had heard once came floating into his head. Eyes are the windows to the soul. Crouch's eyes had their shutters firmly closed.
"You're not real!" Harry blurted out. "You're soul isn't there! Voldemort lied, you're not real!"
The eternal smile didn't even flicker. "Of course I'm real Potter. Of course I am." Crouch suddenly looked up. "My master comes!"
A few seconds ticked by. Then, a Death Eater appeared in the corner. And another. And another. Soon, the room was filled with them, and they slowly encircled Harry.
The air filled with tension as the minuets passed, with no sign of Voldemort. The Death Eaters fidgeted. Some looked at Crouch, and a few of their own in wonder. Whispers of Azkaban drifted through the room.
Suddenly, the room turned black as night, and as cold as winter. A pillar of smoke rose from the ground, and then quickly evaporated to reveal Voldemort.
He looked even more terrifying than before. He no longer had the look of a body fresh from the grave, but rather as a peak-of-health man.
He turned his scarlet eyes towards Harry, and the scar in Harry's head erupted with a current of whit hot pain.
Voldemort turned away, to look at the Death Eaters. "Azkaban has been broken open! The dementors are among us now, as our allies. And our fellow followers have returned from Azkaban!
"I have called you hear today to witness the boy-who-lived's downfall." He turned towards Harry, and continued. "This time there will be no portkey, no Priori Incantinum to save you. You are all alone, Harry, all alone.
"I'd admit I was foolish to try to duel you, Harry. But never mind that. I have captured you again, and I will prove my greatness to you."
He reached his long fingers into his robes, and pulled out his wand.
"It's quite simple," he said, "I have discovered a spell, that was hidden deep is Salazar's book. He used it to defeat Godric, as I will use it to ruin Harry Potter.
"The concept is simple, as I said. This spell will convert Harry's and my magic into two orbs. Who's glows the brighter is the stronger wizard. That orb will return to it's wizard, as will the other. The wizard-" he flashed a ugly smile to the Death Eaters-"can do with it as he pleases."
He then started over to Harry, his wand out. He touched it to Harry's chest, and yelled "Unveil!"
A strange feeling came over Harry. It was as if something within him was zooming towards Voldemort's wand. And something else was there, too. Something was trying will all it's might to prevent the magic from leaving.
At last it was done. Harry felt queer, and empty inside, as he watched a golden orb floating lightly in the air, next to a brighter, silver orb.
A smile appeared on Voldemort's face. "It is done! And now-" He stopped, looking at the orbs.
The gold one suddenly began to glow brighter. The light grew and grew, until it was as bright as the mid-day sun.
The Death Eaters shielded their eyes as the orb floated back to Harry, the silver orb following. Harry didn't mind the brightness, though. It seemed beautiful to him, a perfect, shining star in the darkness of the room.
It then entered his body again, rushing towards every part of his body, as if it was glad to be back, and wanted to tell everyone.
Voldemort was kneeling on the floor. "It can't be!" He whispered. "It can't be!"
He then turned to Harry. "I'll do anything! Anything!"
Harry thought, not sure what course he should take. The fate of the world had rested onto him, and waited patiently. "Tell me," he said slowly. "Why you tried to kill me."
Voldemort looked up at him, looking more like Tom Riddle then himself. "All right. Anything for my powers.
"You know I was an orphan, and lived in a muggle orphanage. I had no one to love me, or care for me. All I had was a cruel master, who locked children up in the attic when they were bad.
"It was in one of those long hours in the attic when the owl from Hogwarts came, and I left their, hoping never to return.
"As the years passed in Hogwarts, I grew cynical, and was almost friendless. The students loathed me, the Gryffindors worst of all.
"I swore then, that I would destroy them. And your family was his heirs.
"So one by one, I killed them all. Except the Evans. They were Godric's true, rather then spiritual heirs. And, they were of course, muggle. But I was unwise not to kill them when I could.
"For Lily Evans was a suitable heir for Godric's magic, which had been roaming the earth for centuries.
"And you were her son, and James Potter's son. His physical and spiritual heir, together. I didn't want to kill them. I knew bad would come of it.
"But you were there, symbol of Gryffindor, and the mud-bloods. I could kill you. And that's what you wanted to hear."
Voldemort looked up, looking through the ceiling out into the heavens. "And perhaps that's what I wanted to hear too." He collapsed.
The Death Eaters rushed over. One leaned over to feel Voldemort's pulse. "He's dead!" he cried, "Dead!"
The Death Eaters all turned toward Harry, wands out, faces menacing. They slowly advanced on him.
The room the exploded- literally.
After the dust cleared, Harry saw two coughing figure atop the rubble- Ron and Hermione. Under the rubble, the Death Eaters lay, unmoving.
Hermione gave a cry, and rushed over. She began to untie his bonds, and Ron began to explain what had happened at the castle.
"We were so worried!" Hermione said, and Ron nodded. "You could've been dead, or sick, or hurt!"
"Well, I'm not," said Harry. "And I'll tell you everything once we get back to the castle. I want to think it over."
The ropes came of, and Harry put his arms around his two friends. "Thanks for coming," he whispered.
He then looked up, at the open sky. "I'm never alone," he said, in an odd voice. "Not as long as you two are on this earth. Never alone."
He turned back to Ron and Hermione. "Let's go."
And the three walked, hand in hand, toward the setting sun.