You can always wonder what it is like for a person to dream, but you will
never know.
Harry felt the teardrops leak from his eyes as he faced Voldemort, for what was likely to be the final time. He had little else to live for.
Ron had been found, dead, exactly one week ago, by his only sister. And Hermione, he didn't want to think about it. Hermione had been found right next to him, looking as if she was pulling him towards her and pushing him away at the same time. The same relationship for their entire time they had known each other. No more, no less
He stood proud and tall, to honor his parents. He had heard the story of their death over and over again. He had practically memorized the photo album, that his now dead godfather had given him.
Remus had been killed on the full moon, and buried like the wolf who's form he had occupied at the time. No one had been able to figure out exactly where the body was.
Virginia Weasley was found splayed out in the battlefield the day after she found her brother. There was no one else in her family that had survived, and whomever had killed her had taken time to arrange the body, making her look like a fallen angel. Harry had realized in the moment when he, himself had found her, that she was the one that had been destined for him for his entire life. But there was nothing that he could do about it.
Arthur and Molly Weasley were killed in the first attack against the ministry. Their bodies were still unreleased, even though they had been killed months ago.
The list of people he loved that were now gone, could have kept on going, but he forced his mind back to the present, back to the creature standing in front of him, back to Voldemort.
And then there was Fudge. Harry had had no love for the man, even after his death. Fudge had been discovered as an informant for Voldemort. He hadn't had the mark, but it was proven anyway that he was guilty. He was the last person to receive the kiss from the Dementor's before they went over to Voldemort's side.
Voldemort's red eyes stared at Harry, as both fingered their wands and circled each other. If Harry were to die in these last moments, it would be the end of the wizarding world. Yet if Harry won, it would not matter, as he had nothing left to live for.
He glared at the thing that had taken everything and everyone he loved from him, and then said the words that he never thought he would ever say in his life. Avada Kedavra. But of course he had said a lot of curses that he had never heard of before those final battles, and had done all of the unforgivables. He was allowed to.
The red eyes began to glaze over, but didn't blink. Slowly, Voldemort fell to the ground. Harry, feeling no remorse, reached over and snapped Voldemort's wand in half.
Then he took one last look around him, whispered a goodbye to the earth, then repeated those two words for the last time. Avada Kedavra. And the Boy Who Lived was gone; killed in a flash of green light by his own wand.
Harry felt the teardrops leak from his eyes as he faced Voldemort, for what was likely to be the final time. He had little else to live for.
Ron had been found, dead, exactly one week ago, by his only sister. And Hermione, he didn't want to think about it. Hermione had been found right next to him, looking as if she was pulling him towards her and pushing him away at the same time. The same relationship for their entire time they had known each other. No more, no less
He stood proud and tall, to honor his parents. He had heard the story of their death over and over again. He had practically memorized the photo album, that his now dead godfather had given him.
Remus had been killed on the full moon, and buried like the wolf who's form he had occupied at the time. No one had been able to figure out exactly where the body was.
Virginia Weasley was found splayed out in the battlefield the day after she found her brother. There was no one else in her family that had survived, and whomever had killed her had taken time to arrange the body, making her look like a fallen angel. Harry had realized in the moment when he, himself had found her, that she was the one that had been destined for him for his entire life. But there was nothing that he could do about it.
Arthur and Molly Weasley were killed in the first attack against the ministry. Their bodies were still unreleased, even though they had been killed months ago.
The list of people he loved that were now gone, could have kept on going, but he forced his mind back to the present, back to the creature standing in front of him, back to Voldemort.
And then there was Fudge. Harry had had no love for the man, even after his death. Fudge had been discovered as an informant for Voldemort. He hadn't had the mark, but it was proven anyway that he was guilty. He was the last person to receive the kiss from the Dementor's before they went over to Voldemort's side.
Voldemort's red eyes stared at Harry, as both fingered their wands and circled each other. If Harry were to die in these last moments, it would be the end of the wizarding world. Yet if Harry won, it would not matter, as he had nothing left to live for.
He glared at the thing that had taken everything and everyone he loved from him, and then said the words that he never thought he would ever say in his life. Avada Kedavra. But of course he had said a lot of curses that he had never heard of before those final battles, and had done all of the unforgivables. He was allowed to.
The red eyes began to glaze over, but didn't blink. Slowly, Voldemort fell to the ground. Harry, feeling no remorse, reached over and snapped Voldemort's wand in half.
Then he took one last look around him, whispered a goodbye to the earth, then repeated those two words for the last time. Avada Kedavra. And the Boy Who Lived was gone; killed in a flash of green light by his own wand.